#also really liked the casting for snow too

[a-fatal-word]

I saw the Theatre Du Châtelet production of Les Miserables, and here's a rundown wyth my thoughts:

In the Prologue, the first set of prisoners are on a boat, then a second group is brought in to help move it. I loved this direction, as we see the physical feats they are forced to do. Valjean is brought on separately to these groups. Guards also beat the men, conveying the aggression of this environment which impacts Valjean’s character.

Part of the set is a ramp up stage left, which gets used a lot. During the Runaway Cart scene, we actually see the cart go down the hill and fall on Fauchelevent and the actor really milks it, it's brilliant. The set has these two huge curved pieces, which are used to create multiple settings, plus box sets which helps separate different locations.

Claire Perot is a perfect Fantine, we understand her immediately. She is watched by all the men in the factory, which she's aware of but hasn't grown hardened as a protection. She's so vulnerable and clearly uncomfortable with the attention. I really enjoyed the 'J'avais Reve' ('I Dreamed a Dream') lyrics, and Perot's delivery of the line about Cosette being close to dying was PERFECTLY delivered. She stopped to take the moment, and it was the best I've ever seen it done. My favourite Fantine, maybe even including the film adaptations I've seen.

The pimp comes on with Bamatabois and has the lines with the sex worker that in the English version says 'only joking, deary knows her place'. When Javert arrests Fantine, the other sex workers start towards her but stop, clearly on her side but unable to stand up to Javert. This asserts the dynamic between these men, who always have more power in the situation, and the powerless women.

Champmathieu and two guards walk in from of Valjean during 'Le Proces' ('Who Am I'), so he sees whose life his decision will impact. It's a shame the actors look nothing alike, I feel like they could've given the actor portraying Champmathieu a beard 😂

I preferred the 'Une Poupee Dans la Vitrine' lyrics to 'Castle on a Cloud' lyrics, they're so much more specific to her experience as she dreams of playing with the doll Catherine. love that she sings about Catherine. I wish that the Catherine that Valjean gives her was bigger, though, it more resembles the size of a doll you would buy today instead of the large doll of the novel. Her broom is literally twice her size though, it's a perfect staying to reflect the famous artwork of Cosette sweeping.

The Sergeant of Waterloo Inn is a box set which covers half the width of the stage so you can see the snow outside behind this set piece, which really makes it seem that the inn is bursting with people. This really highlights how far the Thenardiers fall. We see Cosette and Valjean meet in the space away from the set, which is cold and isolated.

These Thenardiers feel genuinely dangerous; they're funny but there's less playing up to the audience. They dress similarly to the rest of the cast, but there's always something out of place. For example, in Maitre Thenardier (Master of the House), Thenardier's outfit is identical to an ensemble member's, but then his hair is unusually styled compared to the rest of the casts'. During the wedding, everyone wears black and white (white dresses and black suits), whilst the Thenardiers arrive in black and white striped outfits. It's like they try to fit in, but they're always off. I also enjoyed that the Patron Minette are in Maitre Thenardier, backing up Thenardier as he over charges someone (his wife has a go at him in a nice touch of ensemble work). It's like they're mates who then went into crime together. The 'Colette' line also remains.

During the confrontation, which happens whilst the nuns are present, Javert whacks out a giant gun which he points at the nuns, after that the nuns throw a bucket at him. When I say I DIED.

This Grantaire isn't the Grantaire we know, he's way too optimistic and put together. When he first started singing, I thought he might be Prouvaire or Courfeyrac and they'd given one of those characters those lines! It made me think that having Courfeyrac make fun of Marius would be so much fun, they'd get to have a bit more of a relationship there, and Courfeyrac could keep his snarkiness from the novel. But I still enjoyed his performance. This Grantaire still makes fun of Marius in jest, but he is as passionate as Enjolras and can easily jump into action mode. Their dynamic slightly resembles Achilles and Patroclus' in Madeline Miller's novel, in that Enjolras and Achilles are focused and charismatic, whereas this Grantaire, like Patroclus, jumps in to help the wounded. His protection of Gavroche is there, and Gavroche sings his final lines to Grantaire, before falling into his arms dead (Gavroche throws the bag of ammunition over before stumbling back to their side of the barricade with his hand clutching his stomach, resembling Eponine's demise).

The costumes for everyone are stunning. Fantine's deshevelled look is gorgeous and Javert has an incredible black leather coat. Enjolras wears a gorgeous slightly orange toned red coat, then a red striped waistcoat at the barricade, whilst Grantaire is in a green suit, with a top hat in the early Musain scenes.

In 'Bonjour Paris' ('Look Down - Paris') we see a group of middle class men walking to the front of the stage, surrounded by the poor they appear disgusted by, whom we are encouraged to judge.

Minor characters portrayed by the ensemble are given chances to shine, and this production really feels like it is presenting a society, as the novel does. A father and daughter appear in Paris, and this father then joins the revolution. He kisses his wife goodbye as she leaves the barricade, and it's heartbreaking when we see his corpse when they are defeated. We also see a member of the ensemble listen in to Javert's confession to Valjean when he has suspicions that he's an ex-convict. This moment especially evokes the small town attitude of Montreuil-sur-Mer in the novel.

Stanley Kassa's Enjolras is one of the best I've ever seen. He's commanding, serious, and clearly empathetic; having told Courfeyrac to keep watch whilst Valjean sings 'Comme un Homme' ('Bring Him Home'), he also keeps watch, and a couple of times looks back to watch over his sleeping comrades. You can really see that he has a lot going on internally, and is reflecting on the previous day and what is to come. Before sending the fathers and women home, he does this sigh to himself, and lets us in on the inner torment and regret that the people didn't join them. Kassa also dies leaning back off the barricade with his arms out, and he keeps them there until the barricade is removed, which is impressive given the time he has to keep this position for.

In 'Dans ma Vie' ('In my Life'), there are bars to the garden stage left, then bars projected on a screen in front of the set, so Cosette actually feels boxed in and isolated from the outside world in her garden.

Cosette telling Valjean about the 'four men scheming' (replacing 'three men I saw beyond the wall' makes more sense. She and Marius actually see the end of the Eponine, Thenardier and Patron Minette scene, so she tells Valjean as she has reason to worry.

They make the decision to have the barricade rise outside the Musain rather than the Corinthe, probably to simplify things. This also creates an emotional link, as they dream of creating a new world and it's next to that space that they try to achieve that new world.

This production's Prouvaire has a beautiful openness as a performer, he carries a little book on the barricade which feels very apt.

After the defeat, two national guardsmen, plus Javert, survey the barricade, which is covered in the dead, making them face up to what they have done. We also have the national guard giving the orders at the back of stage, visible through the barricade.

'Le Suicide de Javert' ('Javert's Suicide') is heart stopping; he is on top of one of the large set pieces and towards of the song is raised higher. His death is achieved by falling back 90 degrees and the screen in front shows a projection of him falling in slow motion into the Seine. This production takes place 5 minutes from the Seine, which really hits you in this moment.

'Seul Devant ces Tables Vides' ('Empty Chairs at Empty Tables') is done with projections of shadows on the Musain set, which is a wooden piece stage right. Of course we see Grantaire drinking, recognisable as the shadow with the top hat.

'Tourne Tourne' ('Turning') is performed as the moment the families have to identify the dead, such a unique staging choice.

When things get awkward at the wedding, the master of ceremonies asks the 'Maestra' to play a specific song. When things get awkward again when the Thenardiers are eating all the food, Thenardier tries the same thing and asks the 'Maestro' for a song (there was a joke were he said something that wasn't a song, but I can't remember what). The Musical Director is then revealed upstage when she corrects him that's she's a 'Maestra', which got a big clap.

Eponine doesn't duet with Fantine in the Finale until later than usual, so we get a beautiful scene between Fantine and Valjean where she puts his hand on the book before he gives it to Cosette.

Once Valjean dies, he gets to greet everyone in death, included Myriel, who he hugs, and Javert, who he shakes hands with. And Enjolras, who feels very central to this production. He's used a lot in the trailer and Stanley Kassa has the most amazing charisma, you really root for him.

Overall, I loved this production. A lot of the lyrics are tell the novel's story more explicitly and are still poetic at times. I especially loved Fantine's lyrics, and it's so refreshing to see a different take on the material visually. I really hope this production gets a longer life, and I'm so glad we have an album with this cast. They all have golden voices, especially Oceane Demontis as Eponine. I also have to shout out Juliette Artigala for her portrayal of Cosette, I thought she was so endearing.

[bunnyb34r]

Okay I'm gonna put it under a cut but here's what I thought ab the movie

First of all, that was the most faithful to the book adaptation I've seen.

Like from the get go him noticing the tile missing from the bathroom, I was like oh!! They're adding that in!!

Every time I saw something I thought they'd cut I was SO excited! Like idk why but I thought they'd cut the part where Reaper went crazy from rabies (even though they never show that thats why he did what he did :/ ) and he had that little graveyard after Dill died

ESPECIALLY the flag part!

Almost everything was how I pictured it!!! That never happens!!! :D only thing different was the casting. The choices were very good, but that was the only major aspect that didn't line up with the version I thought

Little sad that they didn't show Clemessia turning part snake bc that was a very prominent point in the book imo bc it showed how even from early in the games lifetime, they were experimenting with making mutts. I thought that was a clever detail in the book, so sad it wasn't in there (probably cut for time understandably)

They also cut Grandma'am slipping into dementia which I get, it didn't sway the plot one way or the other really. It was more so in the book imo, a way to get you to sympathize with Snow. But since she didn't have much of a presence on screen, it was understandable that they cut that.

Like the book, it had a catching first part, a strong middle, and a eh third part. But that's just me. It was still very faithful, I just didn't care for part 3 as much.

Really liked how they showed it segmented like that with each part being labeled like the book. That was neat.

And I really liked Lucky Flickerman in the movie more than the book. He was a very good comic relief, audibly laughed at his parts. Like the what if it was candy bit. And I liked how they just had him casually doing the forecast bc it really showed how the games meant nothing to the Capitol, they had no stakes to lose other than their bet falling through.

Oh and didn't the girl who killed Marcus talk to him before going up there? I can't decide if her actions in the book are more merciful, BECAUSE she talked to him, or if the movie was more merciful bc she gently reached out and touched his head, and DIDN'T speak to him. Either way not how I pictured that scene, I thought he was on like a gallows type structure, but I understand the choice to have it be more impromptu on the Capitol's part. Like fuck just tie him to that rubble it's good enough.

I liked the video phone, that was neat. Like the tvs were more 50s style but the technology was advanced enough to have video phones.

Hunter Schaefer was a great choice for Tigris too.

I pictured Mayflower to be more... mousy I think. Like a typical snotty rich girl look. But I guess for 12 it fit.

Oh and in the book it seemed like he knew once he found the guns that he was gonna kill Lucy Gray, but in the movie it looked more like he wasn't sure until the snake bit him. Like he didn't plan on killing her, he was just looking for her.

Anyway I fucking loved it and I kinda wanna see it again in theaters sgdgdgdg I mean ill be okay waiting for the DVD but it was so so good. I wanna reread the book and then go back to the theater sgdgdgdgdgdg

There was only 5 of us there and we all sat in the back row which was funny. I was right smack dab in the middle bc thats where I chose on the ticket map, and the first group of 2 sat on the end on my right like eh here's good, we'll give them space. And then the second group sat on the end on my left which was funny to me.

Very glad I pushed myself to go and that I got to continue/finish My streak of having seen every THG movie in theaters (didn't think id make it honestly)

I had so much fun that I think I'm gonna try to go to the movies more often! It was nice being just me there, going in the morning helped my paranoia. Didn't "double feature" like I used to in high school lol but I figured I'm in my 20s now so I'm probably too old to sneak into another movie sgdgdgdgd we used to do that all the time in high school which was funny bc we saw Spiderman 2 in standard and then snuck in to see it in 3D (fished out glasses out of the recycling bin and used hand sanitizer to clean em) and when we saw Catching Fire we got to see it in IMAX by chance of someone holding the door open and thinking we were going there and well who am I to say no ;)

I think of the books this is my third favorite (catching fire, the hunger games, this one, mockingjay) and of the movies this is my fav (followed by cf, thg, mj part 2 and mj part 1)

[mashmouths]

so i started this show and it just gets worse and worseeeee not only did it lift the romance subplot directly from twilight (and not well) but they also are trying to play the forbidden love angle hard in the fantasy racism vein except it's a "cross-species" relationship between the two whitest people i've ever seen in my life and there are three people of color in the whole (first season of the) show who aren't villains and it seems that every other episode (and sometimes ebery episode and sometimes twice an episode!) there is a man physically or magically subjugating a woman and i keep waiting for the big reveal at the end to be stolen from fucking rainbow rowell

[the-witch-of-woods-beyond]

my favourite headcanon for glass sorenson is that she came down with farm station and watched them murder luke right in front of her eyes (or kidnap him or something cause i love tragic lovers but she deserves to be happy) and so she’s one of the first people to join pike’s militia and turn vengeful, and her best friend wells (he lives too cause this is my canon now) is trying to get through to her but she won’t hear it cause all she wants is justice and to get her oldest friend clarke griffin out of polis and away from harm (they’re friends too fight me on this i dare you)

(also sorry about the tags i didn’t know i had that rant in me 😭😭)

[elegyofthemoon]

super not relevant anymore anyways but if we ever get a pandora hearts remake im wondering if theyll change the vas now that theres like further context to work w for the characters so like trying to find voices that would be a perfect match for later scenes that the original anime showed

this is absolutely about leo btw

[gailynovelry]

Okay, I was going to put this into tags, but I got too in-depth so into the main body of the post it goes.

This flowchart is solid advice for beginner writers who want references for where it is most appropriate to put an epithet in narration. I will say, though, once you get good enough to break some rules, sometimes it's artistically interesting to use epithets against the advice of the flowchart.

Specifically, if a character does know another's name and still uses an epithet in the narration sometimes (emphasis on “sometimes”), then that can tell you something about how the epitheted character is seen by the PoV character.

For one example, I have my character Meparik. Here are some rules for what epithets other characters use for him, both in dialogue and in narration;

Characters will sometimes refer to him as “the boy” or “the child” in contexts where it makes sense to emphasize his youth.

His world is matriarchal, so “the boy” also comes out in instances where his gender becomes relevant.

Human characters will sometimes refer to him (and other characters like Gildhe) as “the fey,” because there's a little bit of othering that goes on between these two groups.

Meparik is almost never “the Herald” to Navaeli, because she personally finds Heraldry to be depersoning. Gildhe and Crislie also rarely (if ever?) use this epithet because they're familiar enough to see past his Heraldry most of the time.

Atevia, however, does buy into the authority of Heraldry, and frequently thinks of him as “the Herald.”

This sort of logic also applies to say the way that Navaeli gets referred to as “the waif” by certain friends (who see her as vulnerable) and “the Herald” by characters who don't know her well and impose her role over her personhood.

In summary, I personally think that epithets work best when they emphasize jobs, character relationships, responsibilities, and roles rather than appearances. For one, it's less unwieldy. It's easier to read off “the woodsman” than “the blue-eyed man,” isn't it? And for another, it provides so much more opportunity to show how characters are perceived.

So, yeah! Additionally ways to use epithets Good.

ALT

So I was thinking about epithets yesterday and how when they’re used well they really add to the work and when they’re used poorly it feels like the author has thrown a cinderblock in front of you while you’re moving at a brisk walk, and then I got floostered (flu vaxx and covid booster) and managed to edit this ugly but hopefully helpful flowchart together through my flooster fever.

The question I always come back to is, “How would I, as the viewpoint character, think about this other character?” I think about my wife by her name or her relationship to me. I don’t think of her as “the blue-haired woman,” or “the taller woman.”

This obviously doesn’t cover every single permutation of epithet use out there in the would, but if I can help one person avoid writing, “Scarlett walked into the kitchen, hungry and annoyed about it. The redheaded woman found she had no snacks and grumbled,” it’ll be worth it.

(This is not a callout post for anyone in particular. It’s just intended as general writing advice, because I had to figure out a lot of this shit for myself when I first started telling stories!)

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 2

pairing: snowboard instructor!Jungkook x ex-gf!reader (feat. platonic OT6) genre: rom-com, Exes 2 Lovers, slow-burn, angst rating: 18+, MDNI warnings: strong language, slow burn, angst, fluff, tension, bad communication skills, jealousy, alcohol, smoking, heartbreak, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 17.3k

a/n: 19 days later and here's part 2 at last! hope you like it still and I can't wait to see your reactions lol DON’T HATE ME! LOVE YOU ALL 💕 ENJOY

a/n 2: This work is purely fictional. All characters and events are entirely imaginary and do not reflect reality. No translations are allowed without permission. Thank you for understanding! 💕

01 • masterlist • 03

Day 2

There’s something about the way you crash after a day that’s drained you not just physically but emotionally too. After your bath and after you grabbed your luggage when you were sure Jungkook wouldn’t be in his room anymore, and with your stomach still full from the Korean BBQ at Tae’s, you passed out immediately. Yoongi’s snoring didn’t bother you in the slightest—if anything, the vibrations seemed to massage your sore body through the mattress.

You feel even more lost when you wake up just after 5:30 in the morning, fully rested but with muscles still stiff. You’re not sure if Tae’s smoothie did anything or if you’d feel completely dead now without it. It’s not that you want to go back to sleep either, knowing you’ll just wake up even more tired if you try, experience showing that extra hours do more harm than good. 

Not wanting to listen to Yoongi’s ongoing snoring any longer, you carefully slip out of bed without waking him and reach for the book you brought with you. But just as you’re about to head out of the suite, you stop, eyeing Yoongi’s coat. 

Should you?

You quit smoking months ago, only started when you broke things off with Jungkook, but just thinking about everything that was said yesterday—and what’s still to come—makes you struggle. You’ll probably hate yourself for it afterwards, but still, you go back to his coat and rummage for his cigarettes and lighter. 

Realising you only brought one pair of boots, which are currently at Hope’s, and there’s no way you’re stepping out into the snow in slippers or your snowboard boots, you grab Yoongi’s spare designer boots and your snowboard jacket as well. 

It’s impressive, really, that you manage to carry everything out of the room without dropping anything, and that Yoongi stays sound asleep despite the obvious rustling of your coat as you move.

You’re thankful Namjoon kept his word about keeping the fireplace lit, not just because its warmth meets you in the corridor but also for the soft glow it casts along the way to the main area.

Pausing for a second, you can hear Yoongi still snoring through the door, along with louder, muffled snores further down the corridor, which must be Namjoon’s. And, who would’ve thought, you hear some very light snoring coming from Jungkook’s room too.

It feels like you’re walking past caves in some forgotten time, surrounded by Neanderthals who snore more to fend off predators than from sinus problems. It’s funny in a way, you reckon. That’s just how biology works, even if you and every other woman in this world are the ones who suffer through the night because of it.

As you reach the main area, of course, you can’t manage all the things you’re holding, and your book falls to the floor, the sound louder than it should be. You think it didn’t wake anyone, but you’re not sure—Jungkook might be awake, he’s always been a light sleeper, though Namjoon’s snoring is too loud now to tell.

Not bothering to pick it up, knowing you’ll drop something else if you try, you kick the book towards the couches, hoping none of the great authors are cursing you for it. The heat of the fireplace, even though it’s only simmering, pulls you to sink back into the cushions once you’ve set your things down.

The hostel feels so much cosier than by daytime, long shadows casting a warm, festive glow like Christmas morning. You almost wish you’d spent the holiday here instead of alone at home.

Just yesterday, you longed for Jungkook to be by your side, to experience this place and this town with you. But now, even though he is here, it doesn’t feel as fulfilling as you thought it would.

Obviously, he’s been here before, and even when he’s spending time with you, it’s under circumstances you wish were different. It destroys you how things are, how you’re treating each other, how much hatred he clearly has for you now, just at the sight of you.

You understand his bitterness though, understand that he probably wishes he’d never seen you again. But what can you do? It’s not like you booked this hostel on purpose, as if you orchestrated the whole thing just to run into him.

No, it’s all just a coincidence. A brutal one at that. You didn’t have time to prepare yourself, didn’t have time to think about how you’d approach him after all this time, or what you’d say.

You reckon he feels the same—blindsided, overwhelmed, hurt. And he has every reason to be. Still, it hurts so deeply, so excruciatingly, that you just want to leave and never look back. It feels like there’s no saving your relationship with Jungkook, not even the hope of being friends.

Or maybe this trip will be the closure you need. Maybe it’ll be the final heartbreak, the one that’s been dragging on for far too long, but now will come to a head and let you move on, even though deep down you don’t want to. You’re sure Jungkook was the one for you—a love once in a lifetime, the one who got away.

Tossing the book from one hand to the other, your eyes can’t help but linger on the pack of cigarettes lying on the table in front of you. It’s dumb, smoking—you know that, always have. But God, you’re broken. You’re so, so sad, it’s suffocating. And you know it won’t help.

You know smoking, like any other addiction, is just a result of loneliness. That doesn’t make it any easier to resist.

You set the book down, slip into Yoongi’s boots again, and pull on your coat, ignoring the voice in your head telling you not to backslide, not to undo months of progress. But still, you ignore that voice as much as you ignore Namjoon’s snoring, and grab the pack and lighter and stand to head outside once you’re fully clothed. 

You’d forgotten about the chime when you open the front door, pausing for a moment as if it’s trying to stop you, but you keep moving, letting the door shut behind you as the early morning greets you. 

The streets are empty, the air biting cold. But the fairy lights are still on, their glow reflecting silently off the snow and ornaments, but you can’t bring yourself to enjoy it.

Your breath fogs with every exhale as you slowly open the cigarette pack, your hands turning rosy in the cold, warmth steaming off them like dumplings.

You take one out, slip the pack into your coat pocket, and toy with the cigarette between your fingers. 

Should you?

You know you shouldn’t.

You.

Know.

But no one’s here to stop you. Who would even care? So you put it between your dry lips and light it, guarding the flame with your hand as if to stop it from dying the way your heart did.

The first drag is equal parts disgusting and relieving, and soon, your thoughts start to fade. Your chest feels lighter, despite the toxins filling it. Maybe breaking up with Jungkook was the first step towards your own downfall. Maybe it was always meant to be.

The front door opens behind you when you’re halfway through your cigarette, but you don’t turn around. There are only three options for who might join you—Yoongi, up for his first smoke of the day; Namjoon, woken by the chime and curious to see what’s going on; or Jungkook. Though you wouldn’t know why it’d be the latter.

“Smoking kills.”

“So does snowboarding,” you reply through the puff of smoke escaping your lips.

“Fair.”

Silence. You can’t bring yourself to look at Jungkook, now standing beside you, both of you staring at some distant ornament, avoiding each other’s gaze.

“What are you doing out here this early?” he asks, as if it’s not obvious.

“Thought I’d get some fresh air.”

There’s no humour in your tone, just defeat, and those few words seem to sap the last bit of energy you have. You feel like you’ve had the same effect on Jungkook—his voice is as dry as yours.

“Funny.”

You know you can’t undo all the damage between you and Jungkook, but still, you want to at least be civil.

“I’m sorry you have to be our instructor. I didn’t know.”

“Sounds like you wouldn’t have booked it if you’d known.”

You shrug. “Probably.”

“Is seeing me again really that unbearable?”

It is.

Of course it is. But only because you can’t bear seeing him having moved on. So you shrug again.

“I see.”

You take the last drag of your cigarette, drop it into the snow, and stomp it out before immediately reaching for another.

“It’s really bad for you.”

“Why do you care, Jungkook?”

“Because you—”

“Please, just let me be, Jungkook.”

It’s desperate, your plea, resigned. And when you finally lock eyes with him, it almost hurts as much as on the day you broke up with him. He looks like he’s stepped straight out of a dream, the smoke from your cigarette swirling up into the sky between you. He’s so beautiful, especially in the morning when he’s just rolled out of bed. But his hurt eyes—hurt that you caused—are something you can’t handle.

“I never did you wrong.”

His words hit like a slap, and you reckon you deserve it, deserve even more, so you let him continue, knowing he’s far from done.

“Why did you leave me?”

You can’t meet his eyes now. Not just because tears burn in the corners of both yours and his, but because you can’t bring yourself to tell him the truth—that you were never worthy of him. That you were never the one for him, not when he’s found someone like Hara, who fits him so much better. So you shrug again, trying to swallow the lump in your throat as your shaky hands lift the cigarette to your lips for another long drag, hoping he’ll think it’s just the cold affecting you, not the emotions welling up inside.

“God, ___.” You see Jungkook look up at the dark sky, rubbing his hands violently against his face and eyes in your peripheral vision. You’re not sure if it’s out of anger, frustration, or pain, and you’re not sure you want to know.

“I’m sorry,” you force out, losing the fight against your tears as they silently roll down your cheeks. Quickly, you turn around, trying to make it back inside before Jungkook notices your breakdown. 

“For leaving me, or for being with me in the first place?”

“Both.”

You don’t stop, can’t stop even if you tried. Bolting straight into the hostel, you leave your book where you placed it earlier, your only aim to escape, to get to your suite as fast as possible. Away from all you’ve done and can’t take back. 

It’s not like it’s really possible for you to get away from Jungkook, not when he’s still not only very much physically present but still consumes every thought and every space in your heart. It breaks you to see his pain, breaks you even more because you don’t know how to fix it. You’ve created a mess, of the whole situation and of your and his heart, that’s impossible to mend now.

Even if you could, the hurt has left wounds and open scars, which won’t ever heal, especially on Jungkook’s soul, and you reckon he’ll never want you back to begin with.

The door to the suite slams shut behind you, waking up Yoongi, who just turns to look at your broken self, tears still running down in waves.

“Talked to Jungkook?”

“Yes,” you sob.

“Next time, try at daytime, it’s not as emo.”

Well, thank you very much. As if that would have changed a thing. But you don’t bicker this time, knowing that somewhere in Yoongi’s words lies the truth, even if you’re not able to accept it in this moment.

Kicking off his boots and yeeting them across the room where he placed them before you took them, and letting your coat fall off your shoulders, you don’t pay attention to Yoongi’s scolding, disappearing into the bathroom to take a cleansing shower, or rather, to let all the emotions and tears out without being bothered and without being a bother to Yoongi.

It doesn’t take long before the hot water mixes with your tears and for you recognise that you need to somehow get your head straight, or get it checked, because it’s only the second day. A lot more is to come, and you’ll be regretting it if you just wave the white flag and leave. If there’s nothing else you can do, nothing that can help you heal and move on, you want to at least help Jungkook to do so.

You owe it to him, and frankly, that was the main point of why you broke up in the first place. You’ll need to forget your own hurt for the time being, answer all his questions without breaking down again, and you’ll start with that as soon as you’re out of the shower.

“Hurry up! I need to take a piss!”

You’re glad you had half a mind to lock the door, but still, the banging of Yoongi’s fist disturbs you so much, you won’t be able to neither cry nor think in peace.

“Ten more minutes!”

“I’ll piss on your pillow! Open the fucking door!”

Ew. Sighing, you rinse the rest of your shampoo out, hurrying to at least wrap a towel around yourself before unlocking the door. You’re not able to push the handle down because Yoongi bolts inside, ripping his pants down and immediately starting to empty his bladder.

“Ew, gross!”

“Next time, your pillow, ___,” Yoongi sighs, but you’ve already fled the scene. As relatives, you’re close, yes, but not that close.

Nonetheless, you’re thankful for this distraction, even if it just helped you not be dragged further into the blue.

Hearing Yoongi close and lock the bathroom door and turning on the shower does the rest as you now stand fully dressed, with dripping wet hair, in the middle of the suite.

You know there’s no way he’ll open that door back up again, even if you’d knock as violently as he did just now. He simply doesn’t give a fuck. So you see no other option but to get some breakfast with wet hair, knowing there’s not much time left before you’re back on the slopes, or rather the beginner’s hill.

The corridor is empty again, though you hear some chatter from Namjoon and Jungkook down the way. Taking a very deep breath, you try to school your face into happiness, or at least neutrality.

You find both with Jimin in the dining area, the latter unpacking his bread and some pastries onto the table.

“Good morning,” you try to sound as cheerful as possible, but as you lock eyes with Jungkook, you know he notices the red rim around your eyes.

“Hey! Look what I’ve got for you.” Jimin practically explodes with happiness as he gets a see-through box of macarons out of his paper bag.

“No way! Jimin, that wasn’t necessary! Thank you!” You can’t help the genuine smile that spreads across your face, hands eagerly grabbing for them as you unbox them against your stomach, too occupied to even sit down.

“But I wanted to. I’ve never seen someone so obsessed with these.” Jimin laughs his beautiful laugh at your already stuffed smile, as Namjoon just smirks, and Jungkook, well…Jungkook just seems odd.

“Here, at least sit down.” Namjoon offers you the chair beside him, and to be honest, you’d much rather sit somewhere else than face Jungkook, but there’s nothing you can do.

You don’t thank Namjoon this time when he pushes the chair for you to sit down, too embarrassed by your chewing. You shouldn’t have put two macarons in your mouth at once.

“Coffee?”

“Yes, please.”

Jungkook stays silent throughout it all, just watching you, especially watching Namjoon carefully, while you avoid eye contact. Jimin, on the other hand, can’t keep his eyes from flickering between you and Jungkook with a broad smile, as if he senses something’s wrong. He takes the last empty chair at the small table and sits between you and Jungkook.

“Black, so you’re not overdosed.” Namjoon places your coffee in front of you as his eyes also flick to Jungkook, and you’re not sure what’s happening right now.

“Hold up, hold up, I’ve got my favourite with me. Just for you, ___. You liked it the first time, right?” Jimin pulls out a cup of iced Americano from his bag, this time in a fitting container, but you can’t seem to understand why he’d bring you this when, despite you loving it, it hurts you just as much and he knows it. 

“You know,” Jimin continues with a glint in his eyes that not only makes you uneasy, but clearly Jungkook as well, the latter looking two seconds away from punching Jimin square in the face. “It’s called ‘Only Love’. Right, C? You created it.”

Ah, that makes a lot of sense now. What doesn’t make sense is you choking on the macaron. You should have put two and two together, to be honest, should have seen the connection the moment Jungkook appeared in front of you with everyone in this forsaken town being friends with him, but frankly, you didn’t.

You haven’t been thinking clearly for years, and you reckon it has something to do with Yoongi, who, even though he’s the only constant in your life now, is equal parts disturbing and unable to help you balance your emotions. Not that it’s his job, but being a bit less insufferable would be nice and a welcome change.

Jimin’s still holding the cup towards you, for longer than would feel just friendly, but now you see all the evil clearly. You don’t really know what to do, especially when you look at Jungkook and see him more pissed than you’ve ever seen before. Should you even take it?

“I… I think I’ll stick to black. Not that I really overdose on sugar or anything.” You stammer, wanting the earth to swallow you up rather than this shit morning continuing into a day full of hatred towards you.

Jungkook just scoffs at that, and you’re sure you hear him mutter “of fucking course, perfect timing” just as Yoongi enters the dining room.

“Morning,” Yoongi mumbles, and right as he’s about to sit at another table, Jimin places the Americano in front of you and gets up.

“No, please, sit down. I was just about to leave.”

Jungkook attempts to call Jimin out on his bullshit, but shuts his mouth in an instant when Yoongi claps Jimin on the back and sits down between you both. Turning to Namjoon, he’s still very much smirking as if he’s figured out the whole situation with you and Jungkook, especially when both his legs nudge yours and his, as if daring you both to say something.

“Bye!” Jimin sings as he’s out of the room before anyone can even breathe.

“You forgot your phone in our room.” Yoongi grumbles, stealing some macarons from you as if they were M&M’s, and preparing his plate. “A coffee please.”

“Black?” Namjoon’s grin spreads across his whole face as he gets up to fetch Yoongi’s order, because, dear lord, it wasn’t a kindly meant request.

“You got it.”

As if the morning hadn’t already strangled your emotions enough, your blood’s now boiling because Yoongi couldn’t just bring your stupid phone with him as if that would have been the greatest task in the world. But somehow, seeing Jungkook’s mood crash even more, you’re glad to have a moment to escape the scene, hoping that when you return, it won’t be with police tape around the place.

You don’t have the faintest idea what’s up with him. It’s not like he’s just mad at you—although you know he definitely is. Hell, you’d be mad at yourself if you were him. But something else must’ve happened, something that’s got him this wound up, not only at the sight of you and Yoongi, but his friends too.

It’s no surprise to find your phone where Yoongi said it would be, and seeing it now, face down, you’re beyond thankful he didn’t just hand it to you in front of everyone.

You just want to grab it quickly and shove it into the tight pocket of your leggings, thinking it’s lying on the info sheet from Namjoon, when Yoongi’s handwriting catches your attention. Black ink, neatly written down for all time:

‘Future’s gonna be okay.’

It soothes and breaks your heart all at once, especially when you spot a teeny tiny black heart too. Yoongi might argue it’s just a splatter from the pen, but you know better. Being close to your cousin is a rollercoaster in every imaginable way, but it’s worth it. Because he cares. Because he’ll understand, even if he doesn’t always show it the way you need.

Taking a very, very deep, steadying breath, you leave the note where it is, knowing you’ll definitely need it when you come back tonight, after what will surely be a wonderful day with Jungkook. You just hope you survive it.

Snowboarding doesn’t even scare you as much as Jungkook does. But you steel yourself not to panic, not to freak out about how clueless you are. Time will tell. Future’s gonna be okay.

And with that thought, you head back to the others, wanting something more substantial in your stomach than sugary sweets.

“Odd?”

“Yeah, odd,” Jungkook growls, and you stop short before entering the room again.

“I think I’m treating her just right for who she is to me,” Yoongi laughs, and you can hear the mischief in his voice, full of shit and in full wind-up mode.

There’s no way you’re really letting this turn into a crime scene, so you march into the room, eyes boring into the back of Yoongi’s head, knowing he’ll feel it.

Thankfully, no one says anything, but the looks speak volumes. Jungkook’s glaring daggers at you, Namjoon’s got that worried, torn look like a parent watching their toddler near the stairs, and Yoongi’s just…amused.

Frankly, your appetite’s vanished, and you don’t want to risk sitting down and getting dragged into whatever mess you’re missing today.

“When do we leave?” You ask Jungkook directly, using a tired, fed-up tone you haven’t dared yet.

It seems to do the trick, sobering everyone up as they take their last bites and gulps of coffee, getting ready to move.

Namjoon, ever the sweetheart, hands you the americano, and this time, you’re grateful for it. Screw the memories—you need caffeine to get through this day. A shot of something stronger in it might’ve been better, but alas.

“Thanks, Joon.”

That, of course, earns you a dirty look from Jungkook and an amused one from Yoongi.

“I’ll just grab my stuff real quick.”

“Yeah, we’re waiting in our slippers,” Yoongi says drily, overtaking Jungkook by the door, who looks at you like he can’t believe this is happening.

You ignore them both, turning to Namjoon to escape the drama, but only stumble into another one instead.

“So he’s your ex.”

You groan, shoulders slumping along with your coffee, exasperated as you realise Namjoon’s got you alone.

“Kinda obvious.”

“It is. Some other things are obvious too.”

You give him a long stare, the kind of stare you’ve perfected from hours of silent contests with Jungkook, but Namjoon, who’s obviously used to this too, isn’t fazed the slightest.

“Spill.”

“You’re both adults. Talk.”

Yeah, like it’s that simple. Sit down, have a rational, level-headed chat with Jungkook? Not likely.

“Thanks for breakfast. I’m out.”

You throw a peace sign over your shoulder, knowing you’re not getting anything more out of him, whether he’s right or wrong.

Being civil with Jungkook would be step one before you could even dream of a productive conversation. But based on how this breakfast is going, hell, the whole stay up until now, it’s clear that ‘civil’ is something you’ll never be when it comes to Jungkook. 

“Here.” Yoongi’s brought you your boots and gear, and the reason is instantly clear when Jungkook reappears, glaring at Yoongi like he’s about to snap.

“Could you both please be civil? I’d like to enjoy this holiday,” you snap, so utterly fed up, wishing you could put them both in time-out.

“Sorry,” Yoongi and Jungkook mumble in unison, but the looks they exchange right after make the apology feel pointless.

Even though you’re still struggling way more than you should with these snowboard boots—which surely came straight out of hell just to make your life that little bit more difficult—you still don’t let anyone help you. Not Jungkook, who stopped moving towards you after you shot him an evil glare, and not Yoongi, who suffered the same fate.

Eventually, you manage, somehow. And when you’re ready to go, the three of you grab your snowboards, which are leaning against the wall near the fireplace. It’s not easy to carry yours on your own, especially when the sharp edge cuts into your gloved palm and your other hand is occupied with your Americano. The bindings are digging into your forearm with their stupid weight distribution, but there’s no way you’re going to drag it any other way. Not when you’re not willing to sacrifice your caffeine—that’s just not happening in any lifetime of yours.

Yoongi, for once, is chivalrous enough to open the door for you, but you can’t really appreciate it like you would under normal circumstances. Your nerves are running thin—so thin you’re half-tempted to just smash the chime to dust with your snowboard to shut it up yourself. But you’re not strong enough, and with your luck, Jungkook—who’s walking right behind you—would probably end up on the receiving end of your terrible aim.

No one says a word during the entire walk to the hill, which, now that you think about it, feels worse than all the snide remarks. It’s not like fighting—or going straight for each other’s throats—is the best solution, but this simmering tension isn’t much better either. And you reckon it’s only a matter of time before someone goes off like a bloody nuclear bomb.

Though the real question is, who?

You’d love nothing more than to get inside Jungkook’s head, to take a peek at whatever thoughts are running through his pretty head and figure out why he’s been acting like this—irrational around others, but all sentimental when it’s just the two of you. It’s starting to seriously grate on your nerves.

Seeing that he wants to talk about everything that went down between you both is something you never thought would happen. But his approach? Not ideal. There’s no way you’re having a deep conversation with him before the day has even properly started, and definitely not in the middle of the street. And you’d much rather not have this conversation with others around too, thank you very much.

But the thing is, you’re still not sure if you want to be alone with him. What if your resolve to be all mature and talk like adults crumbles the second he looks at you with those sad eyes again? What if he’s just looking for answers so he can have the closure you know you’ll never get?

The thought feels selfish in every possible way. It disgusts you too, but you’re only human, not some robot who can function without feeling, without knowing what love or losing it is.

You let out a loud sigh, no longer able to bear the weight of the world—or the burning gaze of Jungkook boring into your back. 

“S’up?” Yoongi nudges you causing you to sway, the heavy drag of your boots not helping either. 

“Just enjoying the fresh air.” You bullshit, stepping right up the snow at the base of the beginners hill. 

“The only thing getting fresh air are my middle ears. Fucking feel the inflammation building.”

You’re sure Jungkook hadn’t intended to snort at Yoongi’s remark, but even he can’t seem to resist the humour in the nonsense that sometimes escapes Yoongi’s mouth.

“Some air gonna knock you out?” you tease, trying to nudge Yoongi back, though you fail miserably.

Thankfully, Jungkook’s quick enough to steady you with a free hand before you face-plant into the snow, which is far from the fluffy stuff it was yesterday—now hard as stone.

“You know you’re old when air’s hurting you, ___. You’ll understand when you’re my age.”

You hope that‘ll not be true. 

“Alright,” Jungkook claps once, and you and Yoongi fall into line in front of him after setting your boards and coffee aside. “Yesterday we covered most of the snowboarding theory. Three important things. What are they?”

Silence.

“Awareness, balance, control.”

It’s clear Jungkook’s waiting for something, and after a few agonising moments of just staring at each other, it clicks. He wants you to repeat what he said.

“Awareness,” you start, but Yoongi either hasn’t caught on or really doesn’t care, but you give him a nudge, and eventually, the two of you echo back Jungkook’s words.

“Awareness, balance, control.”

“Right, now, while we’re at it—let’s talk a bit more theory. After awareness, balance, and control, it’s all about anticipation. You can’t just react to things at the last minute, yeah? You’ve got to anticipate the changes. Know what’s coming. Whether it’s an obstacle in your path, a turn, or… someone doing something you didn’t expect.”

“For fuck’s sake, Jungkook! Man up and say it to my face if you’ve got something to say!”

“I didn’t say anything!”

“Fuck you did! And you—shut your fucking mouth!” You jab your gloved finger at Yoongi, who stops laughing immediately.

You’re not sure what’s gotten into Jungkook to act so irrational again, but whatever it is, you’ve had enough. Either he stays professional during the lesson, or you’re out. This kind of treatment—whatever you did to him or not—isn’t something you’ll tolerate. Not from him, not from anyone.

Jungkook seems to realise his mistake, or maybe he just doesn’t have the guts to confront you directly about what’s been bothering him. You reckon after all these years, he still hasn’t learned how to communicate properly. Then again, you’re not exactly great at that either.

“How about you stick to teaching during the course and stay in your lane? How about I can at least enjoy this for a few hours?”

Jungkook just nods, not the least approving, and if it weren’t for Yoongi placing a hand on your heaving shoulder and sucking his teeth, you might’ve lunged at Jungkook and strangled him right then and there.

“Right, well, before we get onto the boards, we need to warm up. Can’t have you both pulling muscles before you even touch the snow properly.”

“Please, no running,” Yoongi mutters under his breath.

“No, no running. First up, let’s stretch. Loosen up those muscles. Very important. Otherwise, you might… strain yourself. And trust me, some people,” he side-eyes you, “have a habit of rushing into things without getting properly prepared or listening to what the other person has to say.”

You grit your teeth. Oh, you’re so ready to kill him. If looks could kill, both you and Jungkook would be dead by now. “What the fuck is your problem?” you seethe dangerously low. 

“So, what are we doing first? Jumping jacks? Star jumps?” Yoongi asks sarcastically, more to defuse the situation than out of any real interest in actually participating in this course.

“No, mate. We’re not at boot camp. Just a simple warm-up to start. Arms, legs, get the blood flowing.” Jungkook begins rolling his shoulders and doing some arm circles. “Follow me. Arms out, nice and wide. Slow circles. Loosen up your shoulders. You need a good range of movement, especially when you’re… navigating tricky situations.”

You and Yoongi do your best to follow along, despite the thick jackets. Opting to be the bigger person here, you do your best to ignore Jungkook’s pointed glances and the occasional gust of cold air grazing your stomach whenever you raise your arms too high.

“Good. Now, bend forward, touch your toes—well, try to. Don’t force it. Some people are naturally more flexible than others, but hey, no rush.”

Throughout the whole stretching exercises, you keep your mouth shut, knowing that playing into his madness wouldn’t do either of you any good. You just can’t process it all at this point. And how could you?

Since the moment you stepped foot into this stupid little town, you haven’t had a minute to think. Especially not after Jungkook entered your life again. You’re jealous of all the people out there who can adapt to every moment, who aren’t as utterly pathetic at handling things as you are.

It must be genetics, because, dear lord, you’ve never been good at handling tricky situations, but the ones involving your ex are on another level. You can tell yourself to be cool and collected as much as you want, but at the end of the day, Jungkook will always trigger you.

And if it’s not with his passive-aggressive remarks, it’s with his broken sadness.

“Perfect. Let’s move on then. Before we get into the snowboards, I’ll just have to adjust your bindings real quick, and then we’ll start. For that, I’ll need to see which foot of yours is the dominant one.”

Jungkook walks silently behind you both, looking down at the snow with a slight frown on his lips while you follow his movements with your eyes.

“I’ll start with you, Yoongi. Relax your stance, I’ll push you from behind. Don’t think too much, just catch yourself, yeah?”

Jungkook’s now standing directly behind Yoongi, and as he raises his hand and places it on Yoongi’s back, right between his shoulder blades, your gut twists, fearing Jungkook might push him too hard, letting his anger out because he can’t restrain himself.

But to your relief, Jungkook pushes Yoongi ever so lightly, causing the older man to take a step forward, landing on his right foot.

“Right foot back, your stance is regular.” Jungkook just nods to himself, moving on to stand behind you now. “Your turn, ___. Again, just relax, don’t overthink it. I’ll push you now.”

How can you stay relaxed when Jungkook’s now directly behind you, when you not only feel the weight of his hand on your back but imagine you can feel the warmth of it too? It nearly leaves you gasping, not used to Jungkook touching you anymore.

“Relax,” Jungkook mutters ever so softly, causing your shoulders to drop as you take a deep breath, willing yourself to block him out as best you can.

The push is gentle, and while you take a step forward out of reflex, it’s the same reflex that misses his hand on your back.

“Left is your dominant foot, so goofy’s your stance.”

“Goofy?!”

It sounds offensive. Does it sound offensive? Because both Yoongi and Jungkook look at you, puzzled by your outburst.

Wasn’t that another jab?

“Yeah, it’s called goofy,” Jungkook says, Yoongi nodding as if to tell you to calm down.

“Oh. Okay.”

Jungkook pulls a tiny toolbox from the inner pocket of his jacket while you follow Yoongi, who’s picking up his board. He takes Yoongi’s snowboard first, placing it on his bent knee and unscrewing the first binding.

“Forefoot 18 degrees, back foot 7 degrees,” Yoongi mutters, not the least bit mocking. 

You’re not sure why Yoongi has a preference, but Jungkook doesn’t seem to question it, just nodding and adjusting Yoongi’s bindings to his liking.

When it’s your turn, Jungkook still doesn’t say anything as he takes the board from your hands, and while the adjustments look just the same as Yoongi’s to you, it’s clear both men see the difference as Yoongi interjects, “Fix the left one a bit more outwards, it’ll give her more control.”

Jungkook looks up at that, not angered, not ready to snap, as his eyes flit briefly to you before he eventually just nods and does as Yoongi suggested. Maybe not playing into Jungkook’s remarks earlier was the right course of action, seeing that even though it’s still awkward between you three, it’s more civil than it was before.

Jungkook stuffs his toolbox back into his pocket and turns to grab his own snowboard. As he straps his right foot into the binding, he calls out, “Fasten your front foot onto the board. We’re practising gliding.”

Yoongi does as instructed without a hitch, but you’re struggling a bit. The straps keep getting in the way, making it impossible to secure your foot properly.

Without a word, Jungkook hops over, dragging his board behind him, and quickly fastens the bindings for you.

“Thanks,” you mutter, but he doesn’t meet your eyes, just nods before heading back in front of you both.

“So, it’s simple. Push yourself forward with your free foot, step on the board, and glide for as long as you can. It’ll help you get a feel for the board. And remember—where you look is where you go. Look down, you’ll fall. Look forward, and you’ll be fine as long as your balance is decent.”

Jungkook demonstrates the glide with ease, while Yoongi follows suit right after, looking like he’s done this before, making it seem like a breeze. 

Alright, how hard can it be?

Turns out, pretty damn hard. As soon as you try, your arms flail like mad, desperately trying to regain balance. You stumble forward, managing to catch yourself at the last second, but not before the board lifts off the ground and slams right into your calf.

“Ouch!”

It hurts like hell, and you’re certain a bruise is already forming.

“Take it slow, no rush,” Jungkook says, not even glancing back.

You try a few more times, and while it feels like you’re going to lose a leg by the end of the day, you’re slowly getting the hang of it.

Yoongi’s already finished, standing beside Jungkook and watching you like some proud parent their child who’s learning to swim. You don’t mind though—better that than getting frustrated watching him nail everything effortlessly.

“That’s great, let’s move up the hill and practise side slipping. It’s like a lazy way to snowboard, but it’s useful.”

Dragging yourself up the hill feels like a workout in itself with your board still clasped onto your foot, your calf still throbbing from earlier.

“First things first,” Jungkook’s bending down to his board, “strap your other foot in as well. You want to be on your heel edge or your toe edge. We’ll start with heels, ‘cause if you start on your toes and mess up, you’ll just end up pissed off.”

Once again, Jungkook demonstrates the technique, and once again, Yoongi seems to pick it up straight away. Meanwhile, you’re down on your ass every other minute, frustration building but refusing to quit just yet. Jungkook lets you keep at it until you’ve finally got the hang of it, while Yoongi again just stands there with him, chatting the day away, apparently needing no extra practice.

“Why doesn’t he have to practise?” you yell down the hill.

“Because he doesn’t need to.”

You’re fuming, but deep down you know Jungkook’s right. Still, Yoongi’s supposed to be doing this with you, not just standing there like a supervisor. The anger helps though, because as you slide down the hill again, it’s smooth and controlled—and you feel damn proud of yourself.

“Alright, next exercise. We’re going to slide down on your toe edge now. Flip over so you’re facing up the hill, with your toes digging into the snow.”

You’re already panting from the climb back up the hill, but there’s no rest in sight. Jungkook leaves his board behind as you drag yourself up again, determined to finish this.

“Now,” Jungkook says, “bend your knees, lean forward slightly—like you’re bowing to a king. Lift your heels off the snow, so you’re balanced on your toes. And don’t panic if it feels weird at first. Yoongi, can you please demonstrate?”

“Sure,” Yoongi says, nailing the move effortlessly.

You can’t figure out why Yoongi’s suddenly Jungkook’s little helper, or why Jungkook’s board is still down the hill, but you focus on trying to imitate Yoongi’s technique. You get into position, dig your toes in, but the next second, you slip, barely catching yourself before faceplanting into the snow.

Jungkook’s by your side in seconds, pulling you up by the arms. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” you pant, swallowing the panic that’s rising in your chest. But your grip on his arms gives away just how terrified you are.

“Come on, I’ll help you.”

Jungkook’s hands slide down your arms until he’s holding your hands securely, but just as quickly, he lets go. You immediately lose your balance, nearly falling backwards as your whole life flashes before your eyes.

“Shit!” His hands grab you at the last second, keeping you from toppling over.

“Don’t just let go like that!”

“Why are your gloves this wet?”

You don’t have time to defend yourself against Jungkook’s scolding as he abruptly forces his leg between yours, angling his heel between the snow and your board to keep you in place and balance. 

The proximity to Jungkook has an instant effect on you. Your brain shuts down, and though your blood is rushing through your veins at an overwhelming speed, it somehow calms you down just the same.

Being this close to him, not only seeing him but feeling all of his body pressed against yours, mixed with his intoxicating scent, makes you never want to let go of him again.

“Hold onto me,” he murmurs softly, the closeness making it unnecessary to speak any louder than a breath.

You can’t help yourself, staring at his face, even though he’s avoiding eye contact as he removes your gloves, letting them fall silently behind him. You reckon he hasn’t changed much—just a few piercings and some faint lines caused by age now marking his otherwise mesmerising face. But still, he’s the same.

The same lashes framing his big eyes, the same kissable lips now a bit cracked from the cold, the same glowing skin with that faint scar on his cheek.

It throws you back in time but also makes you ache for all the time spent apart. It’s impossible to feel resentment for the harsh things he’s said, impossible to feel anything but the deep love you still have for him. It’s impossible to look away, even though he isn’t meeting your gaze, busy tugging off his gloves with his teeth.

When his hand reaches for yours, wrapping them in the warmth of his own gloves, you feel like you might break right then and there. You’ve been a fool for pushing him away, for ending things in the first place, when he’s always been this good to you—even now, after all these years.

When Jungkook finally finishes and his eyes meet yours for the first time, you don’t dare breathe, even if you physically could. It’s like the heartbreak never happened, healed by the closeness of two hearts that know they can only beat as one.

You see it in his eyes, like you always could back then, that he feels it too—or at least something close to what you feel.

“I never meant to hurt you,” you manage to say, your voice breaking ever so faintly, with a slight sheen of tears coating your eyes.

“I know,” Jungkook smiles ever so softly, as if he’s always known, as if he understands. But still, he steps back, leaving you cold and longing again, only holding your hands just firmly enough to help you keep your balance. “Try again, toes in the snow, knees bent.”

You swallow the hurt down, knowing you’ve got no right to feel this way, and with Jungkook’s help, you slide down the hill. You succeed, but as soon as you reach the base, Jungkook steps back completely, walking over to Yoongi while instructing, “Try again now on your own.”

And you do. Multiple times until you master it as best you can, all while you know you’re being watched by the two most important men in your life.

Lunch is spent in a tiny fast-food restaurant nearby, just because you’re so hungry you can’t wait ages for a proper meal. Jungkook excuses himself to take a phone call, and you notice a picture of Hara on his screen, though you weren’t fast enough to see whose name was at the top, or if it’s his lock screen or Hara’s contact picture.

“Why are you so good at snowboarding?” you try to sound angry, though your mouth is stuffed, hoping Yoongi can still make sense of the words.

“I’ve been snowboarding before.”

“You what?” You swallow the bite forcefully, needing space to articulate the insults he deserves. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why am I paying for a crash course for you?”

“I didn’t thi—”

“Why the fuck have I paid for and rented your gear?!”

Yoongi goes silent, eating his meal like he’s bored, giving you time to yell at him some more before he speaks. But you don’t, just widen your eyes and shake your head to emphasise how livid you are.

“I didn’t think you’d want to come alone.”

“That’s such a shit excuse, Yoongs. You should have at least paid for yourself. Fucking parasite.”

“Yo, show some respect. You said you’d pay for everything. It’s not like I forced you.”

“Forced me?! You wouldn’t have come otherwise!”

“I can still hang in our suite and leave you alone with Mr. Leaf-in-the-wind.”

“That’s rude.”

“It’s true, and you know it.”

He’s kinda right. But you can see where Jungkook’s coming from, somehow understand why he’s acting the way he does.

You sigh at that, leaning back with another mouthful of food, knowing you should really work on your manners. “You’re not leaving me alone with him. No way.”

“If you say so.”

You startle slightly when Jungkook slides into the seat beside you, hoping he didn’t catch any of what was said while he was gone. And even though you’re dying to know who was calling, you’d rather strip bare in the middle of the restaurant than ask, not wanting to look like some jealous, controlling ex-girlfriend.

“Hara called,” you fucking knew it. “Said Namjoon’s arranged dinner at Jin’s.”

You and Yoongi just hum, though you reckon you’re the only one finding it rude. But who can blame you? You are jealous, you are a fucking control freak, and Jungkook looking the way he does definitely doesn’t help.

You hadn’t noticed before, thanks to his oversized clothes, just how buff he’s become. But seeing him now, his upper body hugged by thermal gear so tight it might as well be see-through, makes you even pettier than you already were at the mention of Hara. And how could you not be?

Clearly, he’s been working out more since you split. Maybe you were holding him back from getting in shape too. It’s funny—you always thought Jungkook peaked while he was with you, but that couldn’t be further from the truth.

You force the rest of your meal down in silence, occasionally glancing up at Jungkook and Yoongi, who are doing the same. It’s not like you want this silence to linger, but you don’t know what to say, and neither do they.

It’s slightly bothering you that both men were comfortable enough to chat the whole morning away while you were busy trying not to face-plant into the snow, and now can’t seem to say a single word with you around. Maybe you were the problem all along. 

Ugh, you hate having those thoughts again, especially since you’ve made such progress with your self-esteem recently, and now it’s crashing back down, spiralling like something you can’t escape.

When everyone’s finally finished, you pack up your things and step back outside into the cold, hoping the rest of the day goes by as civilly as the last few hours have been. 

Hours later, you’re spent. So utterly spent you’re sure you won’t make it to Jin’s without falling asleep midway through. Like Snow White, you want to lie down and sleep, and for no one to kiss you awake. Though, if you think about it, Jungkook would make a formidable prince.

Stop. You can’t think like this, you won’t allow such homewrecker thoughts. Not when things went well after lunch and there’s hope you can talk shit out.

After finally managing to learn how to take turns on that snowboard straight out of hell, and now being able to proudly say you can get down the beginners’ hill without breaking a single bone, you feel more accomplished than you ever have. Still, you hate snowboarding, and still won’t be doing it again once the two weeks are up.

“Why aren’t we eating at the hostel?”

You didn’t mean to say it out loud, not with Namjoon walking right beside you, and it might come off as though you’re calling him out for saying he’d be your chef during the trip, but hasn’t cooked a single thing for you yet. Namjoon’s blush only deepens your regret, though he takes it in stride.

“Well…uhm…I just thought that—”

“He can’t cook to save his life.” Jungkook interrupts Namjoon’s clear attempt to save face, and you’d never expected to see such a smug look on Jungkook’s face while throwing his friend under the bus.

“Oh, that’s cute. Plenty of women like to cook for their man.” You nudge Namjoon, hoping it’ll ease the tension just a little.

“Ah, I don’t know about that.”

“Did you watch the game?” Jungkook asks, louder than necessary, slowing his pace so he falls in beside Namjoon, forcing you to step aside to avoid colliding with his stupid back. 

The glare he sends your way matches your own, and you’re sure you can read in his eyes that he wants you to back off from his friend. You barely register what Namjoon and Yoongi are talking about, something vivid about an epic basketball game, too caught up in a silent conversation with Jungkook about what his problem is—and yours. But it’s like you’re out of sync, all questions missed, and answers elusive throughout the whole short walk to Jin’s. 

You hadn’t expected Jin’s to be such a lavish restaurant. Despite having the same rustic feel as the rest of the town, there’s a touch of poshness that makes it more enchanting than any other place you’ve been.

Jungkook wastes no time after stepping inside behind you, passing you to get to the bar where Hara and Hope are perched. Sadly, or maybe thankfully, you don’t see how he greets them, as a man steps into your view, broad shoulders blocking everything else.

“Welcome! I’m Jin! You must be ___.”

Jin practically squeezes you to death with his hug, your sore muscles protesting at how tight he holds you. You can’t hold back your laugh, not only because his greeting is the warmest you’ve ever received, but because you know the moment he lets go of you, he’ll do the same to Yoongi.

“Thanks for having us, Jin,” you squeak, tapping his back in hopes it’ll make him release you.

“Oh please, I’m so thrilled to finally meet you both.” Jin beams down at you before turning to throw himself at Yoongi, just as you predicted. “Yoongi, hi!”

“Please let go of me.” But Jin doesn’t listen, and you think he squeezes your grumpy cousin even tighter than before until he finally lets him go too.

“I’ve prepared a whole course for you three. I know Jungkook can be a bit demanding with his food, so I’ll make sure you’re well fed.”

Jin guides you to a table near the bar, and like the little control freak you are, you opt for the chair that gives you a view of the whole restaurant, including the bar. You don’t have a great view of Jungkook and Hara, though, as Namjoon is standing perfectly in front of them, but you think you see Hara leaning against Jungkook.

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth, twisting the knife of jealousy oh-so-slowly in your gut. You’re not sure how Jungkook could have found someone new so quickly, especially after telling you over and over again that you were the love of his life. Maybe it was just heartbreak that drove him to find solace in someone else. Maybe it’s just a hungry heart wanting to be fed with a fraction of love.

But you don’t want to assume that Hara’s love for him can’t compete with yours. Even though a part of you is certain that what you felt—and still feel—for him is beyond anything humanly possible. And even if her love for him is pure, yours will always outshine hers. Or maybe that’s just the green-eyed monster talking, infecting your thoughts.

But so be it. There’s nothing left to lose after you lost Jungkook, after you lost yourself, not just during your relationship with him, but in so much more.

Jin takes your drink order, and while at first you thought a Diet Coke would be nice after today, you opt for a whole bottle of wine. Not to share. Oh no, it’s entirely for yourself, because if you’re going to spend the evening witnessing Jungkook with his new flame, you’re definitely not doing it sober.

“You look jealous.”

“You don’t say.”

“Talk to him.”

“About what, Yoongs?” you snap as quietly as possible, fingers digging into the tablecloth to stop yourself from losing it. “How he’s fucking that model? Or how easy it was for him to move on?”

“That would be a start.”

“You’re ridiculous. Now shut up, they’re coming over.”

It’s not like you want to stare, but seeing Jungkook so at ease with Hara makes your stomach turn. And why Yoongi had to sit opposite you, leaving no other option but for Hara and Jungkook to sit on either side of you, is something you’ll never forgive him for.

“Hey!” Hara greets you both so warmly that you regret bashing her in your thoughts. Even if she’s Jungkook’s girlfriend, she’s always been nice to you.

“Hey, how have you been?”

Jin takes this moment to bring over a tray full of drinks. Yoongi has a beer, Hara a glass of water like Jungkook—yuck—and he sets the whole bottle of wine with a fitting glass in front of you. You should feel embarrassed, but you really don’t.

“You want some too?” you ask Hara out of politeness, knowing Jungkook never drinks during the week, as you pour yourself a generous first glass of your survival drink, wanting nothing more than to down it all before dinner starts.

“Oh no, thank you! I’m pregnant.”

The bottle’s still in your hand, but the glass is already at your lips with a hearty sip in your mouth, which you promptly snort back into the glass. You’re not sure if the tears springing to your eyes are just from the wine burning your sinuses and uncontrollably coughs or from your heart crumbling into dust at this revelation.

Jungkook—bless the tiny space you still occupy in his heart—is at your side in seconds, helping you recover from the near-death experience, but his touch feels scolding now.

Scolding in a way that makes you think back to all the times he said he wanted to be a dad, to all the times he fucked you raw and let his kink give you the best orgasms of your life. And eventually, you have to force yourself not to picture it—how he found all of that with Hara.

“Congratulations!” you manage to force out after everyone’s back in their seats and a bit of quiet has settled.

“Thank you! We’re all so happy, right?” Hara caresses her stomach, beaming at Jungkook, who looks just as thrilled as she does.

“Yeah! It’s going to have a wonderful mother.”

“Duh.” She laughs, sipping her water while you drown your glass, smiling and nodding as if you couldn’t agree more.

You don’t recall much of the conversations during dinner, don’t remember the sweet lies you told to hide how broken you are. But when Jungkook and Hara disappear into the kitchen after the meal, you grab Yoongi from his chair and drag him towards the door.

“Bye! Thanks for dinner!” you call to Namjoon and Hope, who look confused, but you’re too tipsy to care. Too tipsy to make out what Jin says to you as he rushes out of the kitchen, while you stumble outside.

“What was that?” Yoongi pulls his arm out of your grasp, hating it when you’re like this.

But you can’t hold it together anymore, alcohol always making you sad, emotional, and sentimental. Maybe it was the last straw—time to let Jungkook go, though him being so wound up this morning still nags at your mind.

“I’ve changed my mind.” You start walking towards the hostel, hearing Yoongi following, the snow crunching under your feet. “You’re free to do whatever you want.”

“You sure?”

“Yes.”

Yes, you are. You need to end this limbo once and for all.

“I need answers, and I won’t get any if I’m not alone with Jungkook.”

Day 3

Maybe opting to spend the day alone with Jungkook wasn’t the best idea you’ve had. Not that it isn’t necessary to finally get the answers that have been piling up, but you’re not sure how to ask him without it turning into an interrogation.

Facing Jungkook first thing this morning would’ve been too much too, especially since you’ve barely had time to process the pregnancy bomb Hara dropped on you. So, sneaking out of the hostel it is.

You regret not stopping by Hope’s to grab your winter boots, but with no other option, you head out in full snowboarding gear, aiming to grab breakfast at Jimin’s.

What you didn’t expect was to spot Hara in the pastry shop as you stand outside, staring longingly at the treats like a starving kid. You can’t face her right now, so you quickly turn and decide to head anywhere else but here or the hostel, hoping there’s another bakery somewhere in town.

But of course, in your bulky snowboarding gear, you’re not exactly inconspicuous, looking more like an oversized ball of dark fabric against the snow. Naturally, Jimin spots you straight away, waving you in like you originally planned.

And of course, Hara notices too, her soft eyes and glowing smile radiating warmth as she waves at you.

Forcing a smile, you head to the entrance and with one deep breath, step into the lion’s den, thinking breakfast spent with Jungkook would have been the better option. 

“Morning, ___!”

“Hey Hara. Jimin.”

You’re still a bit pissed at Jimin for being a little shit yesterday, stirring the pot between you and Jungkook for no reason. But seeing him now, friendly and without the evil glint in his eyes, tempers your anger just a bit.

“The usual?”

“I didn’t know I had one,” you laugh, now standing beside Hara, who’s practically pressed up against the glass display of sweets. It’s kind of cute, and you reckon the pregnancy hormones are hitting her hard, especially this early in the morning.

“I’d die for a coffee,” she mumbles, fogging up the glass and quickly wiping it clear again to not spoil her view.

Jimin’s back is to both of you, already busy with the coffee machine. “I could make you a decaf.”

“No, I read somewhere that decaf isn’t really decaf. And while nursing, caffeine stays in the baby’s system for up to three days. I don’t even want to think about how long it stays in their system when they’re still in the womb.”

“Oh, that’s wild. I didn’t know that.” You’re genuinely shocked by the news, and a little concerned for any women who don’t know either.

“Yeah.” Hara sighs, fogging the glass up again and immediately wiping it clean.

Why Jimin’s not serving Hara first and is making your coffee instead is beyond you, but you don’t say anything. Maybe she can’t decide what to eat just yet, or there’s something she’s avoiding. Either way, you don’t want to end up as the town’s biggest grouch.

“Aren’t you warm?” Hara asks, glancing at you, though her gaze keeps drifting back to the sweets.

“Yeah.” You stammer a little, awkwardly taking off your coat, walking back to the door to hang it up on the rack, which has been bodged together again. You realise quickly that Namjoon or Jimin clearly aren’t cut out for DIY which is definitely a pass.

“Something to eat?”

“Yes,” you and Hara answer in unison, though hers is more of a relieved sigh, making you giggle as you make your way to the table you sat at some days ago.

“What’ll it be then?”

“How about a bit of everything as an apology?” you tease, unable to let his mischief slide like you probably should.

“Touche.”

“What did he do again?” Hara’s now sitting beside you, both of you watching Jimin as he diligently piles treats onto a massive plate. A brief flicker of guilt runs through you as you think about the way you’ve been eating lately, except for that one perfect meal at Jin’s. But you’re only here for a few days, so you might as well make the most of it. There’s no way you’re saying no to all this food, especially when Jimin owes you more than that.

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Mhm, sure,” you smirk, crossing your arms as you exchange glances with Hara, who’s clearly curious and ready for some gossip, even if it’s at your expense.

She looks stunning in the soft morning light filtering through the window, her thick black hair falling in loose waves like she’s fresh from a blowout. Maybe it’s just good genes, because her skin is flawless—no makeup, no blemishes, no dark circles.

Maybe, in another life, she could’ve been a friend. But there’s no way you could ever be close to someone who’s got the man you love.

“Oh, come on, it wasn’t that bad.”

“What did he do?” Hara’s leaning forward now, elbows on the table, hands framing her perfect face as she eagerly looks between you and Jimin, clearly hooked on your tea. 

“He’s been a little shit, stirring trouble.”

“I just brought you your favourite,” Jimin grins innocently, making his way to the table. But you can clearly see the mischievous glint in his eyes again, and before you know it, he’s setting down the dreaded americano in front of you. Hara’s already grabbed a macaron, barely waiting for the plate to touch the table.

“What’s so bad—” Hara starts,  talking through a mouthful of food in a way only you could relate to, but Jimin cuts her off. 

“She’s his ex.”

Hara’s reaction is immediate—she starts choking on her pastry, and you flash back to last night when you nearly drowned yourself with wine. You’re unsure what to do, hesitating with your hands hovering over her, worried about whether patting a pregnant woman on the back is safe as your panic rises. Luckily, Jimin sprints behind the counter, grabs a bottle of water, and leaps back over to hand it to her.

Thankfully, Hara recovers quickly, and your heart slows down as you see she’s alright.

“Why didn’t anyone tell me?!”

That’s…not the reaction you were expecting.

“If you’d just checked the group chat, you’d know.”

“Wait, you have a group chat where you talk about me?!”

“Not important.” Hara waves you off with a hand, though the growing smile on her face makes the gesture anything but rude. She pulls out her phone and starts scrolling through missed messages, clearly catching up on something you’re not privy to.

You try to sneak a glance at her screen, but she leans away, blocking your view. Instead, you watch her face as she scrolls—at first, there are little giggles, but soon her expression sours into a full-on pout.

What the hell are they texting about you? Isn’t that illegal or something?

“Why?” she whines, looking at Jimin while your confusion just deepens.

“Dunno. Ask Namjoon.” 

“Namjoon?” The name slips out before you can stop yourself. It doesn’t make any sense for him to be involved in this.

Hara lets out an exasperated sigh, sinking into her seat like she already knows the answer Namjoon would give but is too drained to accept it. “Ugh, no way.”

You clear your throat, hoping to redirect the conversation, though the frustration is building. “Namjoon?”

“Yeah, Namjoon. Now eat before it gets cold.”

“Your pastries are cold,” you shoot back, but Jimin just waves it off.

“See? Now eat.” And with that, he disappears through the door leading to the back, leaving you stewing. You hate him for this—stirring up chaos and then vanishing as if he didn’t cause it in the first place. 

Hara, meanwhile, seems lost in her thoughts, again eating, one hand’s wrapped around a croissant, the other clutches a muffin. How she manages to look like she’s stepped straight out of a commercial is beyond you, and somehow it fits that Jungkook would be with someone like her.

You hesitate, not daring to nudge her. You’ve never spent much time around pregnant women—how fragile are they, really? Better safe than sorry.

“Namjoon?” you ask again, more gently this time.

Her eyes flick up to yours, as if she momentarily forgot where she was. There’s no defensiveness in her gaze, only a soft apology. She places the muffin down and reaches out to touch your arm after wiping it clean on her sweater, her hand gentle and comforting like a mother consoling a child. She’s really going to make a great mum.

“I’m sorry, love. I can’t tell you.”

Surprisingly, it doesn’t make you angry. You should be furious, with how cryptic everyone’s being, and especially with how inconsistent Jungkook’s been treating you lately. But you can see the sincerity in Hara’s face. She really is sorry, and somehow, that makes it harder to be mad. She’s just…lovable in all the ways you’re sure you never could be.

So you just nod, defeated, and finally start eating your breakfast as well. Thinking about all the conversations you could have with Hara right now makes deciding which one you’d actually want to have not that easy. 

Asking about her pregnancy could be a start, maybe how far along she is since she’s not showing yet. It would be a question asked just for the sake of it, to get to know her a bit better. Because quite frankly, even if you checked Jungkook’s or her social media to confirm if he was in town and might be the father of Hara’s child, it wouldn’t really help. The evidence wouldn’t be enough, seeing as he’d apparently be in Hawaii now if you took socials as proof.

Asking her how her relationship with Jungkook is? Not an option. Why would you willingly want to hear anything about their intimacy? Definite no.

Her childhood? Pass.

Her job? Don’t care.

Whether she has pets? Hmm, that would be nice to know. You love animals, regardless of their owner, so that’s where you settle.

This time though, you swallow the bite of food before speaking to Hara, who’s managed to eat half of the huge plate sitting before you both while you were lost in thought. Just as you part your lips, inhaling enough air to ask your first personal question, she freezes mid-bite with a half-eaten cinnamon roll in hand, her eyes wide.

“Oh no…” she breathes, mortified, cradling her stomach as she drops the roll and bolts towards the nearby toilet, gagging.

To your dismay, she doesn’t close the door behind her, and you can hear her throwing up everything she’s eaten so far, which sets off your own stomach. You start gagging too, barely able to stand, hating this reaction you’ve had since childhood whenever someone’s vomiting or even gagging near you.

You need to leave. Now. So you call out a quick “sorry” and “bye” with your hand over your mouth, grab your coat while passing the sad excuse of a fixed coat rack and rush outside. You’re not even fazed by the freezing cold, just relieved to be as far away from the sound of vomiting as possible.

Seeing no other option than to go back to the hostel and get your snowboard, you try to calm yourself as much as you can. It’s finally time to face Jungkook alone, how you’ll manage, you don’t know—but you’ll figure it out as you go.

When you enter the hostel, Jungkook’s already standing in full gear in the main area, turning his head from the hallway leading to the rooms when the chime signals your arrival. He looks confused for a moment, but as you approach your snowboard, you try not to let his presence faze you.

Though you fail miserably when your voice embarrassingly cracks. “Good morning.”

Jungkook still has the same effect on you. Anytime your eyes catch even a glimpse of him, whether in person or just a pixelated picture on the internet, he takes your breath away and makes you flustered all over again. It’s not like it’s something new—he’s had that effect on you ever since the first time you saw him, when he was tapping on your car window, asking if you needed help as you were clearly having a breakdown because you couldn’t, for the life of you, park in the narrow side street.

“Morning. Where’s your other half?” Jungkook’s voice turns slightly bitter, but as you look at him, you can tell he’s more irritated with himself than anything.

“He’s not coming.”

Jungkook raises an eyebrow in question, walking towards the door to leave for the hill.

“He doesn’t need it. It’s just us. Or should we cancel the lesson altogether?” You grin at him as you walk beside each other, playful but secretly hoping for a way out that won’t involve you breaking a bone today.

“No, ‘s fine.” You think you catch a small smile tugging at Jungkook’s lips, but he quickly pulls his scarf up over his mouth, hiding it.

“Did you sleep well?”

You mull over his question, wondering if whining about being awake most of the night because of Yoongi’s snoring, which could probably warrant a sleep clinic appointment, and your own relentless overthinking about Hara’s pregnancy and Jungkook’s involvement, warranting an appointment with a psychologist, would be a good idea. But you decide against it. Not just because you don’t want to confront him yet, but because voicing a lie to explain why a whole bottle of wine didn’t lull you to sleep doesn’t cross your mind quickly enough.

“Perfectly. And you?”

“Yeah, though the beds are a bit too soft. You like them though, right?”

Nostalgia hits you like a snow storm—the fact that Jungkook still remembers such trivial details about you.

“Yeah, I even brought my snuggly,” you giggle, knowing he’ll definitely remember that as well. 

What you didn’t consider is that the exact pillow you’ve been cradling every night since you got it was a gift from Jungkook himself. When his eyes snap to you, wide with recognition, searching your face to make sure he heard you right, you realise you’ve said too much.

He doesn’t ask any follow-up questions. In fact, he doesn’t say anything, and you’re too caught up in your head to even attempt small talk. How could you, with Jungkook? The two of you have never been like this, never awkward. You were always at ease, immediately friends, then more, and eventually…nothing at all.

It’s only when you reach the dreaded hill, with Jungkook stepping in front of you like the instructor he is—and how you should be seeing him right now—, that you try to bottle up everything, telling yourself you’ll bring it up later, maybe over lunch. It’s already late morning, so it won’t be too long until you get the answers you’re desperate for.

“So, today we’ll be snowboarding for real,” he starts, but it’s so much softer than when Yoongi was with you. There’s a gentleness in his tone now, something quieter, like he’s trying to ease you into it rather than push. “But before we lift up and go down the slopes, I want you to get a feel for gliding with a bit of speed.”

Yeah, no. He’s not easing, he’s definitely pushing you. You don’t like where this is going.

“First with a rope, then we’ll use the hill a few times, and hopefully before lunch we’ll make our first descent down the blue slope.”

“Blue?”

“It’s the easiest one. I’ll explain it in detail once we’re up there.” He points with his thumb over his shoulder.

Following the direction, you notice multiple skiers and snowboarders already dashing down the slopes. You’re pretty sure you hear someone scream right before they fall, snow exploding around them like flour hitting the ground. You gulp dryly, but you nod all the same.

When Jungkook pulls a cut-off lift cord from his jacket, you’re equal parts terrified and impressed by how much he carries around without you noticing.

“Clip yourself in, please,” he instructs as he unwraps the cord, walking towards you with both ends in hand.

Of course, you do as he says, but you can’t help glancing warily at the cord, still unsure of exactly what he’s got planned.

Shifting awkwardly on your snowboard, trying not to fall while Jungkook messes with the lift cord, you try to ignore the racing of your heart as Jungkook’s gloved hands tug gently around your body to secure it. But all your attempts to focus on anything other than how natural it feels for him to be helping you again, are futile at their best. 

„You ready?“ He’s got this grin on his face, one you recognise too well—the kind that usually means he’s about to do something reckless or ridiculous. It’s the same grin he had that time he convinced you to build a fort out of every cushion in his apartment, just because and why not.

“Not even a little bit,” you admit, but still, you’ve never been able to say no to that grin. Snowboarding is definitely not something you ever thought you’d be doing, yet, here you are, letting your ex teach you. It’s awkward as it sounds, except…it’s not.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you. I’m gonna start pulling now. Just relax, yeah?” he grins, his voice carrying that casual, teasing tone that makes your heart ache just a little bit too much. Swallowing hard, you adjust your stance, trying to keep your balance as he gets into position.

“Relax? You’re literally going to run while pulling me. How am I supposed to relax?” you shoot back, giving him a look. Your knees feel wobbly just thinking about it, and you’re not even moving yet.

He chuckles, his eyes crinkling ever so lovingly at the edges. “Trust me, you’ll be fine. Just focus on staying straight and let me do the hard part.”

You shake your head, but deep down, you do trust him. You always have, even when you probably shouldn’t. Like that time he tried to teach you how to ride a bike after you told him you hadn’t been on one since you were a kid. He’d run alongside you, holding the seat, laughing the whole time while you screamed about how you were going to crash. And yeah, you did crash. But he was right there to catch you before you hit the ground.

“Okay, here we go!” Jungkook calls out suddenly, interrupting your thoughts. He grabs the lift cord a bit tighter, gives it a little tug, and then he’s off—actually sprinting through the snow, pulling you behind him like some kind of sled dog.

The board jerks beneath you as you’re dragged forward, and for a split second, you think you’re about to eat snow. But you don’t. Somehow, you manage to keep your balance, your legs flexing to stay upright as you glide over the snow. You can’t help it—you let out a yelp of surprise, half-laughing, half-shrieking, as Jungkook keeps running ahead of you, turning to look over his shoulder with a huge grin on his face, sparkling eyes, and a nose red from the cold.

“See? You’re doing it!” he shouts, his voice breathless but excited, clearly proud of you just for managing not to fall.

“Don’t distract me!” you yell back, laughing now despite yourself. The rush of the cold air against your face and the ridiculousness of the situation sends a burst of adrenaline through you, and for a moment, you actually feel like you’re snowboarding. Well, sort of. „I’m going to crash!“

„Nah, I’d never let you crash!“

You look up at that and he still looks annoyingly good, like he’s stepped out of a high-end winter sports ad. You wonder if he’s thinking about the past too—about the warmth you’d felt on those lazy Sunday mornings when you’d wake up next to him, the two of you tangled in blankets, sharing groggy laughter and sleepy conversation before starting the day.

Why did it have to end? That thought keeps creeping up, even though you tell yourself not to think about it. You weren’t right for each other, or maybe you were, but just not at the right time maybe. But there are still these little moments that get you. Moments like now, when he’s right in front of you, close enough but still far away.

Jungkook slows down a little, but his grip on the cord stays secure, guiding you as you slide behind him. It’s strangely easy, being pulled along like this. You’re not focused on your feet or the board or the fear of falling—you’re just…moving because of Jungkook. Making you remember all those rare times you’d dance around the kitchen with him guiding you in his sturdy arms, not caring if you looked ridiculous or if you were stepping on each other’s socked feet. Back when everything was uncomplicated, and just being with him made you happy.

“You’re not even trying to steer!” Jungkook calls out, teasing, his breath visible in the cold air. He looks over his shoulder again, his hair bouncing slightly as he jogs, and there’s something playful and secure in his eyes—something that makes you remember why you fell for him in the first place.

“I’m trying! Let me life!” you protest, though your voice is shaky from laughing too hard. It’s ridiculous, this whole thing, but you’re actually having fun.

“Alright, I’m gonna let go now,” Jungkook warns, slowing down even more. “Get ready to stop.”

You brace yourself, bending your knees just a bit more, trying to remember everything he told you over the last two days about controlling the board. But before you can do much more than panic slightly, he releases the cord, and you glide forward, the board still carrying you for a few more feet before coming to a slow, wobbly stop right in front of him, your snowboard between his legs.

You stand there for a moment, catching your breath, and when you turn your head up to look from Jungkook’s chest to his face, there’s nothing less than a satisfied smile on his lips.

“See? Told you it’d be fun,” he smiles, like this whole thing was a walk in the park for you. Honestly, it probably would be for him. He’s always been annoyingly good at making things look easy.

“Fun? I almost fell like ten times!” you exaggerate, but you’re still smiling. You can’t help it. It’s hard not to smile when you’re around him, even now, years later. 

Slightly out of breath, he gives you that boyish grin that makes you swoon even more. “But you didn’t. And you were laughing, which means you were having fun.”

You want to argue with him, to say that just because you were laughing doesn’t mean you weren’t terrified, but the truth is, you did have fun. More fun than you’ve had in a while, actually.

“Okay, fine. Maybe it wasn’t that bad,” you admit, brushing some snow off your gloves. “But I still don’t know what I’m doing.”

“That’s the point. You don’t have to know what you’re doing. You just have to let yourself try.”

You stare at him for a second, trying to decide if he’s talking about snowboarding or —again—something else entirely. It’s funny how easily he slips back into your life like this when you’re alone and forget about the world, making you laugh, making you feel like things aren’t as complicated as they really are. It reminds you of all those little moments you had together—when you’d stay up late, talking about nothing in particular, just enjoying the sound of each other’s voice or binge-watching shows that neither of you were really that into but refused to stop watching because you both needed to see how ridiculous the plot would get. Or, even, those lazy afternoons spent cooking together, fumbling through recipes neither of you knew how to make, laughing at each other when you messed up.

Those days were safe, easy. And even though it’s over, you miss that ease sometimes—the way he’d make you laugh without trying, the way he’d look at you during the quiet moments when he didn’t think you were paying attention.

Jungkook steps back and bends down to pick up the cord again, glancing up at you with that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes. “Wanna go again?”

You sigh dramatically, though you’re already nodding. “I guess I don’t have much of a choice, do I?”

He laughs, and the sound of it is oh so wonderfully warm. “Nope. You’re stuck with me.”

As he starts pulling the cord again, you feel that rush of excitement building in your chest, the same way it used to whenever he’d suggest something spontaneous or ridiculously dangerous. It’s easy to forget everything else when you’re with him—how things ended, how you’re supposed to be moving on. But for now, in this exact moment, with him pulling you along like old times, you let yourself enjoy it. 

Because quite frankly, as soon as you have the talk with him, you’re sure there won’t be any of these shared moments anymore. Ignoring the ticking countdown inside your head is everything you’re willing to do for now, you’re not quite ready to let go of the ease that obviously can still exist between you, fragile as it may be. 

Some time later, after you’ve been gliding—no, really snowboarding—down the hill a few times, you’re sitting on top of it with Jungkook beside you. Both of you are clipping yourselves in, facing the lift where you’re about to head up for your first proper descent.

“People are already off to lunch, so the lift’s going to be pretty empty. Try to stop right behind me, I’ve got the ticket for you.”

“Okay.” you hesitate, but maybe it’s the perfect time to clear some of your questions. “Uh, before we start, could you tell me what you’ve all been saying about me in the group chat?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like, what you’ve been talking about me. About us.”

Jungkook looks completely confused, muttering, “We don’t talk about you there,” but he pulls his phone from his pocket regardless, unlocking it and heading straight to the group chat. “What the fuck?!”

“What is it?”

You try to peer at his phone, but the sun’s too bright for you to make anything out.

“They’ve removed me from the chat.”

Frowning at his phone, Jungkook quickly types out a flurry of messages to all his friends, each one filled with the same curse words and passive-aggressive tone. But when you see him typing to Hara, it’s just a politely phrased question, before he puts his phone away and turns to you with apologetic eyes.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what’s going on with—”

“Jungkook!”

You turn towards the chirpy voice calling out, spotting two snowboarders decked out in pink, gliding effortlessly towards you. Their gear isn’t baggy, snugly fitting and showing off their slender physiques.

“Who’s that?” you mutter to yourself, still transfixed by how effortlessly they come to a stop in front of you. You think you hear Jungkook mumble something like no clue.

Both girls remove their scarves and protective goggles, revealing not only perfect features but also flawless makeup—more suited for a night out than a day on the slopes.

“Hey,” Jungkook greets them, confusion evident in his tone.

“It’s so dope to see you again! Right, Minji? Best instructor in the world.”

Both giggle, and you notice Jungkook shifting uncomfortably. Did he sleep with them? They look so young, he wouldn’t have…right?

“Oh, thanks. Minji and…uh…”

“Sora!” She winks at him, still ignoring your presence. “It’s been, what? Two years? We’ve grown up now, right?”

“The Cho cousins! Of course! Wow, you really have grown up!” Jungkook smiles now, no longer bothered by the obvious flirting, though your mood sours the longer the girls stare at him.

“You remember,” Minji breathes, looking at him like a lovesick puppy.

“You want to grab lunch with us? Catch up a bit?”

“We were just about to—” you start, but Sora interrupts you with a pout.

“Pretty please?”

“Are your parents with you?” Jungkook asks.

“No, just us.”

Jungkook turns to look at you, and you school your expression into neutrality.

“We could have lunch now and then—”

“Yeah, the lesson’s over for today,” you say flatly, unclipping your feet from your board and getting up immediately. “See you later.”

You’re not proud of how you’ve handled it, but you’re done. You’ve wasted the whole morning without getting any answers, and now there’s another issue you wouldn’t have wanted.

“Wait!” Jungkook calls after you, but you’re already at the base, not looking back as you head straight to the hostel, hoping Yoongi had the sense and decency to finally grab your stuff from Hope’s.

Hearing Jungkook trying to catch up with you gives you that extra boost, despite your muscles aching, pushing you to increase your pace. It’s pretty embarrassing how you’re practically fleeing from him, but you’re pissed, and you’re petty, and he knows it too. Jungkook definitely still knows how to handle you when you’re like this, but right now, you just can’t.

Luckily, he doesn’t speed up, and you make it to the hostel first, stumbling inside. Everyone, literally everyone, is scattered around the main area as if they’re plotting something you’re not in on. They all fall silent the moment you burst through the door, with a few empty takeout boxes on the table and Jimin holding a clipboard and pen.

“Uh, hello?” you ask carefully.

That seems to break their trance as everyone starts blinking and moving again. Yoongi gets up with a takeout box in hand and walks over to you.

“Want some takeout?” He’s being too nice, and the way his eyes shift over his shoulder to Namjoon and Hope does anything but ease your nerves.

“What’s going on here?”

No one answers. Jin even starts whistling while cleaning his nails, which earns him a swift kick to the shin from Hara, who’s sitting between him and Tae.

“Just getting things ready for tonight,” Namjoon finally says, though you can see in his eyes that he’s straight-up bullshitting you.

You don’t have time to push for answers as Jungkook bursts through the door too, looking just as confused. “What’s going on?”

“Preparations,” everyone except you says in unison, making them seem even more suspicious than they already are.

“Why are you back so soon?” Hara tries to distract, smiling as she glances between you and Jungkook.

That’s your cue to leave though. You’re not dealing with this today. “Thanks for the takeout, I’m off for a shower. Bye~.”

And with that, you grab the takeout box from Yoongi, swap it with your snowboard, and stomp off in your snow-covered boots towards your suite. Locking yourself inside, you decide to spend the day on some much-needed self-care before you have to face the party tonight.

Because finally having the time to think—or rather, not to think—and just get back to your inner zen, maybe even start acting a bit more rationally, is exactly what you need. You’re just relieved that everyone, even Yoongi, has left you alone throughout the whole afternoon, only briefly interrupting you so he could get ready for the evening as well.

You’re not sure why you opted for the clothes you’re currently wearing, feeling ridiculously overdressed for this town, but at the same time underdressed for the weather. Still, you won’t let every other woman around you push you into their shadows, knowing there’s a spotlight for you too, even though you barely take it.

If Jungkook’s the visual type, which you know for a fact he is, then you’ll damn well show him what he’s missing. Not just to give him a mental middle finger, but also for you to feel at least a bit more adequate.

Maybe there’ll be someone at the party who’ll appreciate your appearance, someone who isn’t familiar with your past or your sorry attempt at being something you’re simply not. Maybe tonight’s all about getting answers and a change, closing the book written by Jungkook.

Grabbing your small purse, you stuff your phone into it, pulling on your boots, which don’t quite match your outfit, but leaving with heels would be a death sentence with the snow-covered streets. It’ll have to do, especially when you’re hoping that Jin’s place is dimly lit, so no one notices your footwear anyway.

When you enter the main area, Yoongi, Namjoon, and Jungkook are already waiting for you, the latter two stunned silent as they take you in. It makes you blush, though you hope your makeup stays true to its claims and doesn’t let the pink show through.

Jungkook’s decked out in all black again, his fitted jeans straining against those massive thighs you’ve always had a weakness for. You think you spot a silver chain peeking out from his collar—it looks familiar, but you’re not entirely sure. You reckon it might be a new one; time has definitely passed, and it would be odd if he were still wearing jewellery gifted by his petty ex who dumped him.

“Finally,” Yoongi breathes, standing up from the couch with a clap to his knees.

Jungkook throws him an evil eye, though you chalk it up to his general hostility towards him rather than any real annoyance at the semi-rude comment about how long you took to get ready.

“You look beautiful,” Namjoon smiles, that dimpled smile of his, walking beside you as you head out to the party.

“Thanks, Namjoon, I like your hair.” You compliment him back, noticing the effort he’s put in as well, his hair now gelled back, showing off his forehead.

You’re glad Jungkook doesn’t butt in again, though the silent simmering isn’t much better. It’s kind of childish how he’s acting—not that you’re any better—but still, it grates on your nerves. At this point, though, you’re not even sure talking to him would help, considering how loaded everything is between you two, you reckon there might not be a way back to normalcy. Not that you know what normal would look like with Jungkook. 

When you finally reach Jin’s, you’re pleasantly surprised by how it’s transformed—not just because the whole town’s there, but because the decorations are on point. Multiple mistletoe hang from the ceiling, with glittery ornaments reflecting the fairy lights, making the whole place feel more like a Christmas nightclub than the posh restaurant it was just yesterday.

You spot Hope, Hara, and Tae right away, deep in conversation in front of a makeshift stage, where several microphones and instruments are set up. Jungkook and Namjoon are swarmed within seconds by women swooning over them like starved cougars which annoys you just a bit more than usual. 

It’s too much for you again—you can’t stand to watch—so you grab Yoongi’s hand and drag him to the bar, needing to drown a shot glass, even if it ends up filled with your tears by the end of the night.

“Hey!” Jin greets you from behind the bar, shaking up a drink for an older lady perched on a barstool, who looks like a cross between a crazy rich Asian and a fashion icon. You’re sure to see Jimin’s hair flopping at the other end of the bar, probably helping out in serving drinks tonight. 

“Yo, Jin, what’s up?” Yoongi daps him up, and you sit down, swirling slightly while deciding what you’ll drink tonight.

“What can I get you?”

“A beer for me and…”

“A shot of vodka and a glass of wine, please.”

“Going hard tonight?” Jin laughs, but he prepares your drinks without much judgement.

“It’s a party, isn’t it?”

“Of course. Enjoy yourselves,” he winks, setting down the drinks before heading off to serve another customer.

“You planning on getting smashed?” Yoongi asks, right before taking his first sip.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Just talk to him.”

You give him a silent glare, throwing your head back as the vodka disappears before you know it. When you get home, you’ll definitely need to cut back on the alcohol—it’s gotten out of hand, and you know it.

“Maybe you don’t want answers.“

„Maybe.“ 

„You coming over?” Yoongi nods towards the group of friends, Jungkook standing with them next to Hara but with his eyes locked on you, watching intensely as you turn.

You can’t look away, not when he’s hypnotising you the way only he can, making you feel exposed to the core, even from across the room.

“No, I’ll come over in a bit.”

“Suit yourself.”

And with that, Yoongi’s gone, pushing through the crowd while you turn back to the bar, watching Jin and Jimin work, taking gulps of wine one after the other, just as soon as you set the glass down.

You can’t help but take occasional peeks over your shoulder at the others, always laughing and having a good time. But every time, Jungkook’s eyes are already locked on you, refusing to look away even when you catch him staring. His confidence is bold, and he’s never been shy about it—or anything, really—which only stirs the fire inside you, the one only he could ever ignite.

After your second glass of wine, your mind wanders to fantasies that can only come true in your dreams. What if he’s not with Hara? If he’s not the baby daddy? Would there still be a chance for you? Would you be enough?

What if you are? What if everything goes back to how it once was? Would you be happy? Of course you would, how could you not. Even the toughest days spent with Jungkook aren’t as hard as being without him. You’d take fighting with him over being apart from him any day.

But the fact that you’ve been sitting here for what feels like hours, and no one has even attempted to make a move on you, destroys your pride even more. Maybe you’re just not desirable enough, and Jungkook, being the peak of human perfection, would see it that way too.

When he joins you at the bar after some time, you don’t even need to look to know it’s Jungkook standing beside you, leaning on the counter—his unique fragrance mixed with his scent gives him away instantly.

“A whiskey, please,” he calls over the music to the barman, Jimin and Jin by now replaced by two unfamiliar faces.

“Didn’t know you drink during the week.”

Jungkook’s jaw ticks ever so slightly, his head hanging low as his fringe hides his eyes.

“Can’t I enjoy myself too?”

“Go ahead, enjoy yourself as much as you like.” You can’t help the bitter tone in your voice, hoping he didn’t catch it, but Jungkook noticed.

When he’s handed his drink, he turns to you, and you can’t help but take him in. It’s instinct at this point, letting your eyes shamelessly stray over his build and features, though he’s just the same.

“You look like you’re doing just fine without me.” Ouch.

“Maybe you do too.” You try to safe face.

There’s silence now as Jungkook takes a sip of his whiskey, his darkened eyes flickering over your face as if trying to make sense of you.

But eventually, he just shakes his head. “Having to learn how to live without you is a lesson I never wanted to learn.”

He’s gone as quickly as he appeared, and you’re left alone again. You can’t spend the whole evening like a fucking loner at the bar, so you order another glass, and once it’s handed to you, you get up and head towards the others.

Just like the rest of the night, they’re loudly chatting and laughing away, now joined by Jin, who’s massaging Hara’s shoulders, and Jimin, who’s clearly annoying the hell out of Yoongi.

“___!” Tae shouts over the heads of the others, bulldozing towards you as you stand beside Jungkook, throwing himself over your shoulders.

The hug mends your broken heart just a little, and you regret not coming over sooner, realising you were once again stuck in your head, missing out on the easy fun that was waiting for you.

“Tae, hi!” You feel a bit of wetness on your back, probably from the drink Tae’s holding, but you don’t let it bother you, knowing it’ll dry in no time with the heat surrounding you.

“You left so quickly this morning,” Hara pouts, and guilt washes over you instantly.

“Yeah, sorry, I’ve got a sensitive stomach and…well, you know…”

“Oh, I’m sorry!”

“No, it’s fine! Nothing you could’ve done,” you laugh, trying to brush off the awkwardness.

The chatter picks up again, and you’re relieved no one mentions you keeping your distance until now. Everyone seems pretty laid back, happy to let people take space if they need it. Well, everyone except Jungkook, who’s stepped a little away from you and closer to Hara.

It stings a bit—well, a lot—but you try to keep the tight-lipped smile intact, tuning into the conversations around you over the music.

“You ready?” Jin grins over Hara’s head at Jungkook, who shifts uncomfortably.

“Do I have to?”

“Course you do! It’s tradition at this point,” Hope laughs, and even though you have no idea what they’re talking about, his bright laughter makes you giggle too.

Jungkook still looks unsure, but when Hara nudges him, leaning away from Jin to whisper something in his ear while squeezing his bicep, he nods and hands his drink to Jimin, prompting cheers from everyone but you and Yoongi.

“What the fuck?” Yoongi mouths at you, and you just shrug, just as clueless.

“Here goes nothing,” Jungkook mutters, and as he and Jin make their way to the stage—Tae giving them both a hard slap on the ass—your own nerves start to flare up.

Hara stands right beside you, pulling you into a side hug. “I’m so proud of him.”

You don’t bother asking why; your question will be answered any minute now.

“Hello everyone! Thanks for coming tonight! And like every year, let’s kick off the real party with our babystarcandy!” Jin shouts into the mic, tossing paper hearts into the air as Jungkook grabs a guitar from the side, slinging the strap over his shoulder and stepping up to the mic Jin just left.

The room erupts into the loudest cheers you’ve ever heard, with Hara screeching the loudest. Jungkook glances at her bashfully with a small smirk.

“Hey, everyone.”

More deafening cheers follow, and you swear you see a black bra flying through the air towards the stage, though you’re not sure—your alcohol-hazed vision could be playing tricks on you at this point. 

“What do you want to hear first?” Jungkook’s smooth voice reverberates through the room, and you realise he’s made for the stage. You’ve never seen him like this before.

The crowd shouts random song titles you’ve never heard before, but the loudest—and from Hara—is a request for a song called ‘Guillotine,’ one you’ve too never heard of. Jungkook locks eyes with her again and simply nods with cheeks dusted pink and a small smile.

“Alright, this one’s for someone special.”

As the first chords flow from his guitar, his tattooed fingers gliding effortlessly over the strings, eyes closed as if he’s pouring his soul into the song, the entire room falls silent.

“Sleep on me, feel the rhythm in my chest, just breathe.”

You gulp, not just because his voice is beautiful beyond words, but because when you glance at Hara, you see her with glassy eyes, softly mouthing the lyrics. You feel yourself starting to break. The words rain down on you, pulling you under, making it hard to breathe without gasping.

“I will stay, so the lantern in your heart won’t fade.”

This can’t be happening. It really can’t. Jungkook’s found the true love of his life, and it’s not you. You were never meant to be—just a prototype, an example for the perfect candidate, but only a candidate. 

It’s her.

Tears well up in your eyes, though for entirely different reasons than Hara, who’s now curled into Jin’s side, still singing along, cheering for Jungkook, who keeps glancing in her direction with that same soft smirk.

“I know that you love me, love me, even if I lose my head.”

And as the whole room joins in, singing, clapping, and cheering, you silently crash. Splintering into a thousand pieces, never to be put back together. Your wine glass slips from your hand and shatters on the floor, but the sound is drowned out by Jungkook’s guitar. Still, Yoongi and Namjoon notice. They see you gasping for air, breaking, spiralling, and finally turning to flee from the hell that you’re forced to see.

You push through the crowd, head down, trying to block out the sound of Jungkook’s voice, but it’s everywhere, even as you burst outside and run towards the hostel. It’s still there, screaming in your head, with no way to drown it out.

01 • masterlist • 03

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[velarisdusk]

Unveiled Pleasures

Day 4: Virgin | Rhysand x Reader word count: 4.3k author’s note: this was not a kink i thought i had but during planning, the thought of rhys getting a dark look in his eyes, losing himself and going feral when he finds out…… yum :) ✦ . Kinktober Masterlist . ✦

A blizzard rages outside, snow swirling in the darkness. It’s been relentless; for two days, its winds clawed at windows and howled through the night. Snow accumulates in thick drifts outside, burying Velaris in a frosty silence. Inside the townhouse, the warmth of the fireplace provides a cozy, safe haven.

You and Rhysand are curled up together on the couch, wrapped in a heavy blanket. The house is quiet; Amren is back at her apartment, Cassian is in Illyria (Gods help him, you can’t imagine the storm there), Azriel’s away on reconnaissance, and Mor winnowed to the cabin last night, claiming she needed some “alone time.” But you had a feeling she just wanted to leave the two of you here, together. 

You’ve known each other for centuries, since you were all young and reckless, before the world became complicated. Over the years, you’ve become more than friends — you’ve become constant in each other’s lives, someone to rely on through war, heartbreak, and everything in between. For a while, there was something between you — something unspoken but undeniably there. The way his hands lingered when he touched you, or how you’d catch him looking at you a little too long.

But whatever it was, it never grew beyond that. Time passed, and eventually, it seemed like he’d moved on. You told yourself you had, too. You never let it become a big deal, never let it interfere with the easy friendship you shared. It was just… there, hovering in the background, a feeling you’d long since learned to live with. And now was no different, chatting and playing card games on the couch, sharing a blanket by the fireplace. You would’ve thought it cliche if not for the fact that you’d been in this exact scenario more times than you could count — and nothing had happened.

Nothing will happen. 

“Place feels off,” you muse absently, shuffling the two cards in your hand as you consider your next move.

Rhysand chuckled softly, running a hand through his hair. “Off how? Too quiet without Cass?”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Well, yeah, that… but also just calmer.” You glance up at him, noticing the way the firelight casts soft shadows across his face. “We’re usually out doing something or surrounded by other people. Just not used to this much quiet, I guess.”

He nods thoughtfully, drawing a card from the deck and placing it face up next to the 10 of clubs. Ace of hearts. “That’s true,” he agrees, glancing at the cards on the blanket. “But it’s a nice change of pace, don’t you think? A well-deserved one.”

You eye your own cards — 10 of spades and ace of clubs — two pair. You toss two peppermints into the makeshift betting pool. “Raise. It’s definitely safer,” you say with a shrug.

Rhys matches your bet, tossing in two more mints. “Safer? From what? Drunk fae trying to chat you up? Or Cassian making an ass of himself with every female in sight?” His brow quirks up as a grin spreads across his face. 

You burst out laughing, the image of Cassian’s failed attempts at flirtation all too vivid. “Both, actually,” you manage between fits of laughter, shaking your head. “That last time at Rita’s… that was something.”

Leaning back against the couch, he shakes his head with a mischievous grin. “Do you remember that awful line Cass used on that poor girl? Something about his sword and–”

You burst out laughing, nearly doubling over. “Oh gods, don’t remind me. He really thought he was being clever.”

Rhys chuckles, rubbing his jaw. “He always thinks he’s clever. Like this—” He suddenly leans toward you, his voice dropping into a ridiculous impression of Cassian’s deep tone. “You ever heard the phrase, ‘bigger the sword, bigger the—'”

You both dissolve into laughter before he can finish, your sides aching from how ridiculous it sounds.

He grins, gaze still playful as he mimics Cassian again, this time reaching out and gently cupping your cheek, his thumb brushing the corner of your mouth. “But then he’d get all serious,” Rhys murmurs, his voice dropping lower, soft and teasing now. “He’d do this… look into her eyes and say, ‘I could spend hours just watching the way you blush, imagining what else I could do to make you look like that.’”

The sudden shift in his tone and the warmth of his hand against your cheek make your breath catch. You freeze, the playful atmosphere suddenly charged. He holds your gaze, the firelight flickering in his violet eyes, and for a moment, it’s hard to remember this is supposed to be a joke. 

You laugh, but it’s quieter now, more nervous. “Cassian really said that?” you ask, but it’s hardly louder than a whisper. 

Rhys doesn’t drop his hand, his thumb absentmindedly brushing your skin as he looks at you. “Well,” he says softly, his smile softer now, uncertain. “Maybe not like that… but, I guess… something like it.” You feel your face grow warm, a quiet tension slipping between you. His eyes search yours, and something unspoken passes between you both — something neither of you can ignore anymore. 

His voice is quieter when he speaks again, as though he’s only just noticing the change himself. “You okay?”

The question feels loaded like there’s more behind it than just casual concern. You nod, but your voice is stuck in your throat. You can’t tear your gaze away from his. He’s still so close. Rhys leans in slightly, his thumb moving to brush along your jawline now, the motion slower, more deliberate than before. His eyes flicker over your features, lingering on your lips for just a second too long. 

You swallow, heart pounding. “Just… surprised.”

“Surprised?” His brow lifts slightly, but his tone is softer, more serious now. “By what?”

By the way his touch sends a ripple of heat through you, by how your heart races under the intensity of his gaze. You don’t say that though. Instead, you let out a shaky laugh, trying to play it off. “That you’re taking this Cass impression so seriously.”

Rhys huffs a quiet laugh, but it doesn’t reach his eyes. His fingers pause for a second, lingering on your neck. He doesn’t move away. “I’m not, really… just… You’re looking at me differently,” he says softly, almost like he’s noticing it for the first time. The room feels suddenly smaller, the crackling fire and storm outside fading into the background. 

You hold his gaze, your heart pounding. There’s a question in his eyes, and you can’t help but feel the pull between you growing stronger. You’re both so close now, the warmth of his skin against yours more pronounced. 

Without breaking eye contact, Rhys’ hand gently slides down to rest at the back of your neck, his touch sending a shiver down your spine. His gaze drops to your lips, and for a moment, time seems to stretch.

He leans in slowly, giving you the chance to pull away. His lips brush against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s a slow exploration, a testing of the waters. When you don’t move away, his kiss deepens, his lips melding with yours as the warmth between you ignites into something more intense. 

As the kiss between you and Rhysand grows more heated, the heat becomes almost unbearable. Clothes are shed in a frenzy of passion, and you find yourself in your undergarments, sinking to your knees on the plush carpet before him. The firelight flickers across the room, casting a warm glow that dances over both of you. You start to reach for the waistband of his boxer briefs, but suddenly, uncertainty creeps in. Your hands falter, and you pull back just enough to look up at him, a mixture of nervousness and determination in your eyes.

“I’m not really sure what to do,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly. “It’s my first time.”

Rhysand’s eyes widen, his expression shifting from surprise to an intense, almost reverent focus. He takes a moment to process your confession, clearly stunned.

He speaks softly, his voice a mix of awe and disbelief. “After all these centuries, you’re still–”

He pauses, searching for the right words. “You’re still a virgin?” His gaze sharpens, the intensity of his stare turning into something more primal. 

When your only response is a nod, a slow, hungry smile spreads across his lips. “Gods, that’s incredible,” he breathes, his voice low and tinged with a dark thrill. Leaning in, his breath warms your ear. “You have no idea how much that turns me on. The thought of being the first one to touch you like this…” His hand slides over your head, fingers threading through your hair with a possessive caress. “The first to make you feel things you’ve never…” He inhales deeply, his nose brushing against your neck, “–felt before…”

Rhysand pulls back slightly, his hand gently gripping your chin, and he tilts your face up to meet his eyes. “You have no idea how much I’m going to enjoy this… Guiding you through it, showing you everything…” His eyes flash with a mix of hunger and satisfaction. He traces his thumb over your lips, his touch charged. 

“Not everything; I’ve read romance novels,” you clarify, shifting your weight back onto your calves.

Rhysand’s lips twitch and he lets out the barest breath of a scoff, shaking his head as if in awe. His eyes flicker with a dark amusement as his hand trails from your jaw to the nape of your neck, fingers toying with your hair. “Romance novels,” he repeats, his tone light, but the glint in his eyes betrays something darker. His thumb brushes your cheek, and his lips curve into a slow, teasing smile. “Well, then… you’re practically an expert, aren’t you?”

You feel the weight of his gaze as you fumble for a response, a nervous laugh bubbling up. “Well, I mean–”

Rhysand cuts you off, his voice edged with raw desire. “I’m going to show you everything you need to know.” His grip on your hair tightens just slightly, his eyes locked onto yours with a possessive intensity. “Just focus on me and let me take control,” he murmurs, his voice low. “If you need anything, you speak up, alright?” The intensity in his gaze makes you feel like you’re melting.

You nod, feeling a mix of apprehension and excitement, and his gaze doesn’t waver. His fingers trail lightly over your collarbone and down to the swell of your chest, his touch a teasing whisper against your skin. With a deep breath, you lean forward, your hands cautiously pulling down his underwear, and Rhysand’s breath hitches slightly as you expose him. “That’s it,” he murmurs, his hand resting lightly on your head, guiding you as you lower yourself, taking him into your mouth.

The room is filled with the soft sounds of your movements and his encouraging murmurs. As you cautiously take him into your mouth, you focus on finding a rhythm, the unfamiliar texture and warmth making your pulse race. Your hands rest lightly on his thighs, feeling the tension in his muscles as you move. Each gentle stroke is executed with trepidation and eagerness, guided by Rhysand’s soft, approving sounds.

Rhysand’s hands gently cradle your head, his grip firm but tender. “Damn,” he groans, his tone laced with surprise. “You’re a natural.” His praise sends a shiver through you, mingling with the heat of your desire. Though he guides you slightly, his touch remains light and encouraging. His voice drops to a low murmur, filled with adoration. “That’s it, just like that,” he urges, his breath hitching as you experiment with different motions. His nails gently graze your scalp, and he lets out a soft, appreciative groan when you press a flat tongue to the underside of his cock. “You feel so good, baby. Just keep going, you’re making me lose my mind.”

Every word from him makes you more determined to continue, your movements growing more confident as his reactions heighten your arousal. “You can take me deeper, I know you can,” he murmurs, his voice low and urgent. “You’re doing so well, you got it,” and his hips start bucking into your mouth. Your own breathing becomes shallow as your throat constricts around him, the new sensation is overwhelming yet intoxicating.

With a low groan of approval, Rhysand suddenly shifts, his hands coming to rest of your shoulders. “Hold on a moment,” he says, helping you up from the floor, and guiding you back onto the couch with him, a dark hungry glint in his eyes. 

A hand reaches under you, deftly unclipping your bra with a single, smooth motion. He moves the other to the waistband of your underwear, and he slides both off of you tantalizingly slowly. He discards them with a casual flick, leaving you completely bare and vulnerable under his intense, appreciative gaze. 

“Go on, let’s get you a bit more comfortable,” he says, adjusting you with deliberate care so you’re sprawled out comfortably across the couch. His gaze smolders with hunger as he moves between your legs, his breath fanning over your inner thigh. 

The anticipation is almost unbearable as he begins to tease, his tongue a tantalizing caress that makes you gasp and shiver. The sounds of his enjoyment mingling with yours create a symphony of shared desire, each touch sending waves of sensation through your body. 

Just as his tongue delves deeper, the sensation blurs your senses, making the room seem to spin and float. The combination of his skilled tongue and the disorienting rush of winnowing overwhelms you with a euphoric intensity. When your vision clears, you find yourself in Rhysand’s bedroom, his tongue still lavishing attention on you. He takes his time to savor every part of you. His movements are masterful, each flick and stroke of his tongue tailored to make you writhe in pleasure. He alternates between gentle, teasing laps, and more focused, firm strokes, finding the rhythm that has you gripping the sheets. 

His hands are relentless, roaming your body, occasionally tracing the curves of your thighs or the sensitive skin of your hips. He clasps your hands tightly, anchoring you as his deep, guttural moans vibrate through you, heightening every sensation and leaving you squirming with need. 

Amidst the physical pleasure, Rhysand begins to invade your mind with a barrage of filthy, electrifying thoughts. His voice, though unspoken, reverberates in your mind like a seductive whisper. “It’s going to feel so good when I fuck you,” he promises. “Picture how good it’s going to feel when I’m buried deep inside you, how you’ll be trembling under me.” The mental imagery is a pleasant surprise — he shows you vivid scenes of him thrusting into you with relentless vigor, making you gasp and shiver. “It’ll feel so much better than your fingers, darling.”

“Can you see it? Feel it?” he sends into your mind, his thoughts a sultry whisper caressing your consciousness. “Feel me pushing into you, filling you completely. Every thrust, every stroke… I want you to feel every inch of me, how your body will mold perfectly around my cock.” The intensity of his words only drove your arousal to a fever pitch, leaving you moaning and writhing with an urgent need. 

His thoughts also weave images of you coming undone, of him making you see the stars with his touch. “I’m going to make you come so hard, you won’t know what to do with yourself. I’ll have you screaming my name, begging for more.” The raw, possessive desire only drives you closer to the edge, each thought and image adding to the pleasure building rapidly within you. “You’re my sweet little virgin now,” his voice growls in your mind. “But not for long. By the time I’m finished with you, you’ll be begging for my cock every chance you get. You’ll be a little whore for me won’t you? Needing to be filled again and again.”

When your climax finally crashes over you, it’s intense and all-consuming, leaving you gasping and trembling. Rhysand’s mental presence remains, a constant, darkly, satisfying presence as you ride out your orgasm. 

After you’ve come down from your high, Rhysand pulls back slightly, his gaze dark and hungry. He leans over you, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks softly. “See how easy that was? You’re going to be amazing, just like that. “

He shifts, positioning himself between your legs, his cock slick and hot against your folds. As he aligns himself, his voice is thick with desire “Feel how hard I am for you? Feel how much I want you? I’m going to fuck you so good, make you feel things you never imagined. You ready for me, sweetheart?” He looks up from where the tip of his cock lines up with your entrance, eyes locking onto yours with a burning intensity.

You meet his gaze, your voice trembling slightly but filled with determination. “I… I want you, Rhysand. I need you.” Your breath hitches as you look up at him, the vulnerability in your eyes matched by a fierce desire. “Please, don’t hold back.”

Rhysand’s smile turns predatory, his eyes alight with satisfaction. He maintains eye contact as he pushes inside, inch by inch, savoring every second of your tight, untried body struggling to accommodate him. “Does it hurt?” his voice drips with mockery and satisfaction when you squeeze your eyes shut. “Does it hurt having this pussy stretched out for the first time?” He watches your reactions intently, delighting in them as your expressions shift from nervous anticipation to surprised pleasure, your brows furrowing with the intensity of it all. 

He cradles the back of your head, tilting it down toward where your bodies are joined. “Look at that,” he breathes, his tone full of wonder. “Look at how you wrap around me. So… fucking tight — it’s like you’re sucking me in.”

The mewl you let out would be embarrassing if not for the overwhelming pleasure and mind-numbing stretch of his cock inside you. “Rhysand, please,” you whisper, your breath coming in shallow gasps as you try to steady yourself.

“Please, what? What do you want me to do, darling?” his voice is a lazy drawl, as though he has all the time in the world to tease you, to make you beg for more. His hips are still, the need to move evident in the tense muscles beneath your hands, but he holds back, watching you writhe beneath him.

“Please, Rhys, just move,” you whine, your body yearning for more, the slow stretch making you desperate. “Just want you… Want you to move.”

“Move?” He raises a brow at you, feigning confusion. “Move where? Move off of you?” He starts to pull out, slowly, torturously, and for a moment, the sensation feels good — until the realization hits that he’ll leave you empty. Without thinking, you wrap your legs around him, arms clinging to his neck to keep him in place.  

He chuckles darkly, a low, amused sound. “You’ll have to be more specific, I need to hear what you want, or…” He pulls out further, the head of his cock barely inside you now.

“Fuck me,” you gasp, your voice trembling with need. “Rhys, fuck me, please.”

The glint in his eyes is dangerous, primal. He leans down, brushing his lips against your ear, his breath hot against your skin. “That’s what I wanted to hear.”

He thrusts back into you, slow but deep, filling you completely. “You feel that?” he murmurs against your neck. “You’ve never had anyone touch you like this before, have you? I’m the first… and I’ll be the only one to make you feel this way. Your fingers don’t even reach this deep, huh? You can’t even pleasure yourself the way that I will.” His words are gentle, but the power behind them is undeniable. “So pure, so untouched. You’re mine now. I’m going to make sure no one else gets to fuck you like this.”

The way he speaks, the deliberate pace of his thrusts as he starts to push in and out of you, has you melting beneath him, pleasure and helpless surrender pooling in your belly. Every inch of him fills you perfectly.

“You’ve no idea what you do to me,” he whispers, his thrusts growing harder, deeper. “Look at how you take me, so well. So fucking tight and sweet, like you were made for this,” he growls, his breath puffing against your skin as he thrusts again, deeper this time. “You feel that, darling? That’s me, stretching you open, shaping this pretty pussy so it’ll only ever fit me.”

A gasp tears from your lips, your body overtaken by the sensation of him inside you, deeper than anything you could have imagined. Your nails dig into his shoulders, your legs trembling as you try to keep up with the rhythm he’s setting. “Rhys,” you whimper, your voice soft and breathless. “It’s so… so much.”

He leans down to capture your lips in a heated kiss, a dance of tongues and lips, exchanging breath ang longing. When he pulls back, his voice is a low rumble. “It’s going to be more, sweetheart. So much more. You can take it though, I know you can.”

You shudder at his words, the physical and mental onslaught of pleasure overwhelming. “Rhys, I–” you gasp, struggling to speak as your mind spins. “I’ve never– fuck! I didn’t know it could feel this good.”

“Of course you didn’t,” he purrs, his pace quickening slightly, making you moan with every deep stroke. “You’ve never been fucked before. You didn’t know what you were missing, did you?”

Your breath catches, your hands fisting in the sheets as his words sink in. The sensation of being filled, stretched, and dominated by him is getting to be too much. “Rhys, please,” you whisper, “please, don’t stop.”

His lips curve into a wicked smile. “I’m not stopping. Not until I’ve ruined you for anyone else.” He thrusts into you harder now, making your body jolt with each sound of skin against skin. “No one else is ever going to fuck you like this. You’ll always want me. You’ll always need me.”

The pleasure building inside you is almost too much, the sensation of his cock slamming in and out of your tight heat. “It feels so good!” you cry out, your pretty noises spurring his desire. “I– I can’t… believe how good it–”

“You like that, don’t you?” he growls, his voice dripping with satisfaction. “You like the way I stretch you out. The way your body squeezes me like it’s never going to let go.” He moves faster, his thrusts becoming rougher, more demanding. “Tell me, sweetheart. Tell me how much you love it.”

Your head is spinning, your body trembling as the pleasure builds. “I love it,” you gasp, your voice high and breathless. “I love the way you feel inside me, Rhysand.”

His eyes harden, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “That’s right. You love being fucked by me, don’t you? You love the way I make you feel, the way I take your virgin cunt.” His hand slides down your body, gripping your hip to keep his unrelenting pace. “And I’m going to keep fucking you until you’re screaming my name, until you can’t think of anything else but how good my cock feels inside you. So innocent… But not anymore, darling, you’re going to want this every single time you see me.”

Your muscles shake as you respond wantonly. “I want more, I want you to fuck me harder.” Rhysand groans, flipping you over without pulling you off his cock. His hands grip your hips as he pulls you closer, his cock slamming into you with renewed force.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he growls, his voice rough with lust. “You don’t even know what you’re asking for. But I’ll give it to you, if that’s what you want?” He glances at you for confirmation, though he already knows what he’ll see.You’ll look back at him with a blissful nod, your eyes heavy and barely open. You cry out as his pace turns punishing, far beyond what you’d imagined during those restless nights spent desperately rubbing your clit to thoughts of him. You can barely catch your breath as he fucks you for all you’re worth. 

“That’s it,” he groans, his voice thick with desire as he pulls you up, holding you flush against his chest. His hands wander over you, the swell of your breasts, the soft skin of your neck. “You’re going to come for me again, aren’t you? I can feel it. You’re so close. You’re going to come all over my cock, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak, your voice lost to pleasure. “Rhys, please,” you gasp, your hands gripping the sheets as you feel yourself hurtling toward the edge. “I’m so so close.”

He teases your ear lobe between his teeth as he whispers, “Come for me, go on. Show me how good it feels to have your virgin cunt fucked for the first time.”

“Feels so good, feels so–”

With a final thrust, you fall apart, your body convulsing as your orgasm rips through you. Rhysand’s name is a broken moan on your lips as the pleasure floods through you. Rhysand watches you as he continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his pace never slowing. “That’s it,” he coaxes you through it. “That’s my girl. You’re mine now, sweetheart. Only mine.”

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Taglist <3

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@mellowmusings @gracielacie @d3ad-ins1de @loviseamms @inkedinshadows

@natasha153 @deathdoordoctor @spacebananabud @secretsicanthideanymore @edance2000

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@elenapri0502 @randomgurl2326 @scarsandallaz @julesvanslutta @90angiex

[unfriedough]

Hey sorry if your request aren’t open but I had a thought about Zuko x water tribe/bender reader!Like three years after the war he wants to propose to reader and So he ask Katara and Sokka about marriage traditions within the tribe and he carves a betrothal necklace for her?? And the readers reaction!! Thank you

An: HEY. Sorry this took like, so long I think you requested last summer, however I’ve kinda lost most of my determination to write and this account became more of a chore than what I had initially wanted. Either way, maybe somehow I’ll be able to be more consistent soon but I also don’t wanna make myself hate writing so :(

Thank you for requesting, I really do appreciate it, hope you enjoy :)

Zuko’s nose twitched as the cold nipped away at his extremities, huddled up in a few too many jackets. There’s a striking difference between cold and cold and right now he wished he was on fire.

Your gloved hand was intertwined with his as you lead him off of the fire nation ship and onto the white snow of the southern water tribe. This trip was planned as a way to visit Sokka and Katara, but Zuko had another plan in mind.

Finally, after three years of struggling to settle down, the fire people finally relaxed and he was able to make more time. In that time, he realized he’d wanted to marry you more than anything. So here he was, in a nation far too cold for someone like him, with a goal in mind.

He had exactly 5 days (and a half if you’re counting from now) to get ready a betrothal necklace. Why a necklace? Well, Zuko had watched you for days on end in the castle library, a book bigger than your head on the table being analysed by your eyes. You’d smile brightly when you locked eyes, and call him over. He’d sit next to you, shoulder to shoulder, attempting to read with you. The books were always about old water tribe traditions, tales, legends, history, everything of the sort. You’d wanted to stay connected to your culture and upbringing - it made you who you were today.

And so that brings you to today, here, the water tribe.

“Katara!” You squealed, running forward and pulling her into a hug. You two squeezed each other tightly, excited noises being expressed.

Zuko and Sokka nodded to each other, trying to be kinda nonchalant but Sokka couldn’t hold it much longer, he sprinted at Zuko and tackled him to the ground into an oh-so-warm hug. You laughed at the site, Katara too. Zuko felt a twinge of pink on his cheek, from the cold or embarrassment he couldn’t really tell, but he still wrapped his shaking arm around his buddy. After a few more ‘I missed you!’s and giggles, Zuko and Sokka got back up. Katara grabbed your hand and pulled you deeper into the village, you laughed the entire way, giddy from being back home here with your family. You threw a glance backwards at the fire lord, there was something very slightly off about the way he was smiling, you brushed it off as just the cold getting to him.

It was most definitely the cold getting to him.

Sokka led him to the ice on the outskirts of the village and brought some chairs along. They were gonna go fishing while they talked. As they both sat, another shiver ran up the poor fire bender’s back.

“How do you guys survive the cold?” He groaned.

Sokka chuckled, handing him a rod, pushing the bucket of bait closer to him, “You get used to it… I could ask you the same thing about the heat,”

“I’m a fire bender it’s in my blood,”

“Yeah well you learn a thing or two when your lovely sister starts learning how to bend and suddenly you’re always wet,” he cast the line, leaning back, putting one leg over the other.

“I guess,” he laughed.

They sat in a suffocating silence for a minute, Zuko just awkwardly holding the pole and Sokka staring into the sky.

“Are we going to address the camelephant in the room?”

Zuko looked to him from his peripheral, “I’m kinda nervous I guess, I don’t know what to do,”

Sokka sat up a little straighter, getting up to help Zuko with his fishing issues. He stood behind him and helped his arm into the correct place, slowly to be sure he understood.

“Just like fishing, you have to be precise and confident to get what you want, and if you cast your line just right, you’ll catch the fish,” he winked once the bob hit the water, stepping back to admire his own work.

“Not sure that’s the best metaphor,”

“Say you love it, he's been working on it ever since you wrote to him,” Katara rolled her eyes, holding your hand as you both struggled to not slip on the ice.

“KATARA.”

Zuko couldn't help but laugh, then he was met with the puzzled look on your face.

“I thought this was a surprise trip, when’d you write to them,” you tilted your head, eyes narrowed suspiciously.

“…needed to make sure they were free,”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah…”

“That totally checks out,” you rolled your eyes, getting a serious case of FOMO.

Sokka coughed to try to clear the awkwardness, “So fishing…”

“What’re you trying to catch anyways?”

“Does it matter, it’s about the process YN get with the times,”

“Since when did you fish for fun?”

“Since now.”

“I thought you hated fishing,” you were all standing up by this point, including Sokka and Zuko.

“Only because Miss Katara always splashed me,”

“And I won’t hesitate to do it again!” She bent a small stream into his face, giggling when he stumbled back.

“Oh it’s on Katara,” he paused, “As soon as I get snow,” he waddled away to get to the snow on shore.

You laughed when the waterbender used more ice to cause him to slip.

“I’ll go help him up,” you laughed, moving towards him as he laid helplessly on the ice, not even bothering to get up anymore.

Zuko watched your figure, missing the way Katara turned to look at him.

“I think you should do it here,”

“What?”

“The proposal,”

“That’s not enough time, it’s barely enough for me to learn how to carve the necklace,”

“Lucky for you, Sokka’s pretty efficient with plans, he’s been plotting since you told him,”

The fire bender smiled, shoving his hands into the pocket of his jacket. “Okay, maybe, but how can I get started when she’s with us all the time?”

“Don’t worry, I’ll handle her,” she smirked.

-

“Are you sure this is safe?” You shivered, standing in your bathing suit on top of a huge rock, below it freezing water.

“No!” Katara, “But let’s do it anyways,”

“I don’t know, what if I freeze?”

“Good thing we have a fire bender with us,” she pointed to Zuko, who was in the distance learning about what tools to carve and what stones to use, he’d settled on one that reminded him of your eyes, and the band matching the deep royal blue usually used. He wanted to alter the pattern as a way of commemorating both elements. Currently, he and Sokka were doodling designs on the snow with sticks.

“Look at those dorks, I wonder what they’re doing,”

“You know Sokka, they’re probably drawing,” she laughed nervously.

“Hmm, that kind of looks like a-“ you were cut off as she pushed you off of the rock. You shrieked as you first dropped, then as you got more air time you changed into a more streamlined position with your head downwards. Instant regret when you hit the water though.

You resurfaced, drenched and in pain from the cold. Your fingers felt like they were gonna fall off any second now. Before you got to dwell on it, Katara joined you, also screaming in fun-agony.

“WHY’D YOU PUSH ME?” You splashed her.

“You were talking for too long…” she giggled, going under and pulling you down.

You inhaled a large amount of air before going under, making sure to keep her under with you as well. After a few seconds of freezing cold, you resurfaced, feeling pain in all your joints from the water.

“Why did I ever think this was a good idea?”

“I’m honestly not sure,” she shrugged, waterbending herself back up to the ledge so she could jump again, “But it sure is fun,”

Sokka and Zuko heard a splash in the distance.

“I think Katara is torturing your wife,”

“What?” he mumbled, looking at where you were very clearly lecturing her about something, “What’re they doing?”

“Ice bath, Katara tricked me into doing it once… I never fully recovered,”

Zuko chuckled, using his stick to doodle another design. Which he then stared at for a while.

“This is it.”

“Oh?” Sokka glanced at it, “It’s perfect.”

The men stared at each other proudly, as if they’ve just completed a super hard mission.

Immediately, Sokka took him inside a tent, quickly teaching him methods of carving with different tools. A few more splashes could be heard and you and Katara had fun.

“I wonder what he’s doing to Zuko,”

“Boy stuff,”

You furrowed your brows, “what does that even mean?”

After a lot of time (and a few cuts) Zuko finally had a necklace ready. Sure, it needed to be refined, but his hands were tired and shaky. Sokka patted him on the back, watching the fire bender weave the blue band into the loops.

What they failed to notice was you approaching, now covered in a warm coat.

“What’re y'all up to?” You breathed out, still cold but beginning to gain your senses.

Zuko panicked, hiding it under his leg. You looked at him weird.

By this time, Katara had joined the group, and behind her the sun fell into a pink and purple type hue. Zuko didn’t miss the way your breaths were so laboured, and he took it upon himself to lead you back to where Sokka said you two were staying. You changed into some clothes while he surveyed the room, moving around nervously.

“You’ve been acting weird all day,” you pulled a sweater over the thermal shirt, reaching over to grab an undercoat.

He walked up to you, fingers working shakily to button up the buttons. “Just cold,”

“No, the cold doesn’t make you avoid me.”

“I’m not avoiding you,”

“Really? It feels like Katara and Sokka are trying to keep us apart.” He grabbed another, heavier coat and draped it over your shoulder, you inserted your arms in the holes.

“I didn’t notice,”

“You’re lying,” you stepped back, putting your boots back on and tucking your pants into them.

He frowned, reaching out to you, but you stepped back.

“It’s weird, the letter thing as well- why didn’t you tell me you sent it to them? I thought it was last minute?”

“It was!”

“You’re lying again,” you frowned, folding your arms.

“I promise it’ll all make sense soon,”

“How soon? What’re you hiding?”

“I-“

“Actually. Don’t tell me. I don’t wanna know.” You huffed, storming out of the room, leaving a different kind of cold lingering.

Zuko sat down on the large bed, dropping his head into his hands. He sighed deeply, reaching over multiple layers of clothing to his pocket to pull out the carved stone. Truly, it was mediocre at best. And after this misunderstanding, the sinking feeling of impending rejection poisoned his thoughts. He couldn’t help but trace his finger over the patterns, wondering what could’ve been- he was half sure he was single now.

“I forgot-“ you gasped as you walked back in the room, catching a glimpse of the rock in his hand.

“Yn!” He quickly shoved it behind him.

“Zuko… what was that?”

“What was what?” He said, looking so suspicious it was stupid.

You took a few steps closer, inching towards him slowly, “In your hand,”

“My hand’s empty…”

“Liar…” you dragged on, standing right infront of him now.

“Zuko,”

“Yn,”

You tried pulling at his arms, but he wasn’t budging.

“Cut it out! What’s behind you?”

“Nothing!”

You sighed, walking away in defeat, just as he let his guard down, you pounced, having to grab it and rolling onto the bed. He barely had time to process it when your face immediately changed.

You sat up, moving on your knees towards him on the bed, patting his bicep, “Zuko light,”

The fire lord frowned, embarrassed that he was about to get rejected, although that’s no foreign feeling. A small, dancing red flame illuminated the carved necklace.

“It’s…” you covered your mouth with one hand, tears welling in your eyes.

“Tacky- I know, I just thought- you don’t have to do a-“

“Beautiful…” he glanced sideways at you, “Zuko…”

“This isn’t at all how I wanted this to go…” he sighed, dropping his head.

“No… probably not,” you sniffled, “but it was perfect,” you laughed, he chuckled as well.

He got up, lighting an oil lamp for better lighting. Zuko circled the bed and stood next to you, still nervous and fidgety.

“Yn,” he breathed out, shakily.

You nodded, glossy eyes meeting his.

“The years you’ve spent by my side, against me, with me- those have been the best years of my life. When I’m with you, I feel like I’m truly myself. I’ve never,” he swallowed harshly, “I’ve never felt more at home,” he paused again, looking up at the ceiling, “then when I’m with you.”

You let out a small noise of excitement, bouncing your legs.

“I’ve made so- so many mistakes in my life, every single day of it, but I think… I think letting you go would be my biggest mistake, Yn-“

“YES!!” You pounced on him, hugging him so tight as your heartbeats both skyrocketed.

You giggled as he looped the necklace around your neck, it was simple, and dainty, but most of all it was so Zuko. The more someone could stare at the imperfections in the craftsmanship, the more they’d love it. A man carved it with love and intention.

You held each other for a while, just swaying in the dimly lit room. You leaned back, cupping his face in your hands.

“Is this why we're here? You wanted to carve the necklace?”

“Yeah, pretty much, you ruined my plans though,”

“I did, didn't I?” You giggled.

“I had a lot planned for us, with the help of Sokka of course,”

“Ohh now that makes sense,”

“What makes sense,”

“Literally everything, you were being so weird,”

“I’m not great at keeping secrets,”

“Good, never keep one again,” you kissed his cheek.

“I suppose we should tell Katara and Sokka,”

“Yeah, I suppose we should.”

And so, hand in hand, you walked out to the bonfire, where the siblings sat.

Sokka was so mad his plan foiled.

[ghostfacd]

WIRED AUTOCOMPLETE. | TOM BLYTH

PAIRING. tom blyth x fem!actress!reader

SUMMARY. in which you and tom make a special appearance on wired’s autocomplete interview

installment of this au | recommend reading for more context

“Hi — we’re Y/N Avocot and Tom Blyth — and this is the Wired Autocomplete Interview!”

You’re both handed a white board, bigger than your face, and there’s a list of questions with some of the words covered.

“Do you want to go first?” Tom asks, giving you a small smile.

“Yes! I’m pretty excited actually,” you begin to peel off the first question. “Okay, first question: what was Y/N Avocot’s first role?”

You think for a moment, “well in terms of roles in general, my first acting role was very small and I believe it was for this ice cream commercial as a kid. I’m not sure if it’s still up but my mom had signed me up for it and they thought I was a really cute kid so they casted me.”

Tom laughs, “really?” He then retrieves his board from the crew. “Okay my turn. Why does Coriolanus Snow turn evil?”

That question makes you slightly giggle, because it’s so broad that it’s nearly impossible for Tom to narrow down exactly what it is that made Coriolanus suddenly switch. “I believe you should be asking Suzanne Collins, shout-out to her for making the entire trilogy and prequel. But honestly? I think he was always power hungry, and even though Tigris tried her very best to bring out the humanity in him, it was just never enough. Especially after Sejanus’s death, I think Coriolanus realized there was no going back.”

“Oh wow,” you say, very impressed with how he decided to answer it. “That was a terrific answer Tom.”

“Thank you m’lady.” You giggle at his antics, rolling your eyes jokingly.

“What role does Y/N Avocot play in The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes?” You clear your throat, imitating one of your character’s iconic resting bitch face.

“I play Balleona Laurent, duh.” You joke. “Anyway, yes, I play Balleona, also known as Leona. She’s originally from the Capitol just like Coriolanus. They met at the academy and she automatically knew she had to have him. She comes from the Laurent family, which is a very very wealthy, well off, intimidating family that Coriolanus knows he just has to get into, which is why they start dating. I don’t wanna spoil too much of Leona and Corio in the movie, soooo you guys should definitely check it out!”

“Alright,” Tom adjusts himself in his seat, ripping off the paper for the next question. “Does Tom Blyth have a girlfriend?”

He pretends to think, which makes you bite your lip, suppressing a laugh. “Hmm, very complex question.”

“Oh give the people what they want!” You tease, “yes he does. He’s inlove with Jennifer Lawrence.”

“I am not inlove with Jennifer Lawrence!” He exclaims quickly, “although I greatly admire her work. My girlfriend is Y/N Avocot over here, sadly.”

“Sadly?!” You fake offense, “cut the cameras. I’m gonna beat Tom up.”

You peel away at your next question, the interview already being loads of fun for the both of you. “Is Y/N Avocot a good singer?”

Your head falls forward, and Tom’s automatic instinct is to catch you, not realizing you’re only joking. “Oh God, I hope so!” You say, laughing as you pick your head up. “I’m no Mariah Carey but I like to think I’m a pretty okay singer.”

“More than okay,” Tom chimes in, which makes you laugh.

“Aw, thanks Tom.”

Tom reaches to peel another question off. “Is Tom Blyth American?” This question makes you almost spit out the water you were currently taking a sip out of. “Well, a lot of people get shocked when I say I’m from the UK. I mean, is my American accent that good?”

“Guess so,” you shrug. “Okay next. Is Y/N Avocot in The Summer I Turned Pretty?”

You clasp your hands together excitedly, giving the camera a wide smile. “Yes! I play Maekella Fisher, also known as Ella Fisher, Steven Conklin’s love interest and sister to Conrad and Jeremiah. The first season airs out soon so please stay tune for that! I’m so excited to be apart of this amazing show with such amazing people.”

“I always come to watch her on set,” Tom says, “they’re all such funny and charismatic people. I swear I’ve became friends with everyone on Y/N’s cast.”

“Okay, my last question,” Tom peels off the paper, grinning. “Will Tom Blyth star in another movie soon?”

He smirks, eyes playfully looking into the camera. “Who knows? But I do know that something exciting will be coming out soon so prepare yourselves!”

“Way to tease the crowd Blyth,” you say, rolling your eyes. “Anyway! My last question, this was quick. What is Y/N Avocot’s skincare routine? Oh, I’ve been waiting for this one.”

You sit on the edge of your seat, and Tom finds it endearing that you’re so excited about something as small as this.

“First, I rinse my face with cold water and I dip my face in a bowl of ice and water for 3 minutes. Afterwards, I put on my dewy toner from Innisfree, it’s so smooth and nice. Sometimes I’m too lazy for this step but I also put on sunscreen, it’s important so I always remind myself to not forget— but I love to use Supergoop Unseen’s Sunscreen. I use drunk elephant’s bronze drops if I wanna go for a sunkissed look that day, but I usually don’t. And then I just shake my Tower facial spray and spray it all over my face. Usually, I touch up my eyebrows and do my eyeliner but that’s really about it!”

“It’s true,” Tom adds. “She asked me if I could go buy her the tower spray yesterday because she was almost out.”

“No need to expose me like that,” you say, clinging your arms onto his. “Well thank you guys for watching!”

“Thank you!” Tom and you wave at the camera, smiling brightly.

[hunn1e-bunn1e]

hey could I possibly get a scenario of reader who is not Gojo’s s/o yet. Taking a nap in his presence. They don’t plan it. They were talking with him for a bit. They just felt tired suddenly and fell asleep on the couch in the teacher’s lounge room next to Gojo in the middle of their conversation. He’s the only one in the room?

Gojo Satoru - Falling Asleep on His Shoulder Mid-Conversation

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

. . .Hey @nesting-dreams, It's your turn today. Sorry that I took so long, college and work have been taking up most of my time so I have to squeeze these in here and there. Sorry that it's really short, for some reason I had a lot of trouble with this one. This takes place a few months before the events of Jujutsu Kaisen. Also, this is written in the third person, so I hope you don't mind it too much. The lyrics quoted in this one are from the song “Put You Head On My Shoulder” by Paul Anka. —Benny🐰

Warnings ➔  Reader is Gn, Reader is a 1st Grade Sorcerer, Reader Teaches the 3rd Year Students 

Word Count: 534 words

                                                                                                   

❝𝕻𝖚𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕺𝖓 𝕸𝖞 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝕸𝖊 𝕴𝖓 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖘, 𝕭𝖆𝖇𝖞~ 𝕾𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊 𝕸𝖊 𝕺𝖍-𝕾𝖔-𝕿𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝕸𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖔~ ❞

. . .

♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾

“You've got to give that poor kid a break; he's got his own missions already, you know?”  

[Name] chuckles in exasperation from their place beside the strongest sorcerer, arms loosely crossed over their chest.

“Wha– Oh c'mon, it builds character. It's not like Megumi won't get harder missions when he goes up a grade. Plus, it's a bonding thing too; he's getting to know more about me by experiencing what I do for work!”

The snow-white-haired man smoothly excuses himself, glancing at the person beside him.

[Name] rolled their eyes and attempted to playfully shove Gojo aside, only to have their hand stop just an inch from the man's clothed shoulder. They huffed, giving the man an annoyed expression as he chuckled at their futile action and rested his arm behind them on the sofa's backrest.

“You and that damn infinity– quit smiling like that, you weirdo.”  

The first-grade sorcerer jokingly complained, rubbing their now sore wrist with their free hand as they lazily laid their head on the infinity that shielded Satoru’s shoulder.

Blindfolded blue eyes glance down at the top of [Name]’s head; his long arm moving from its place on the sofa's backrest to draping around their shoulder where slender fingers annoyingly pinched at their cheeks.

“Ya tired? Stay up all night doing boring paperwork again~? That's why I just make Ijichi do mine.~”  

The white-haired man blabbered as his hand continued to busy itself with poking at the other's face.

The shorter only hums quietly at first, swatting at his bothersome and intrusive appendage, before quietly muttering:

“...You always bully that poor man… you make me feel bad for ‘em.”  

Gojo lets out a quiet but amused chuckle, beginning to play with and tug at the ends of a few thin locks of [Name]’s hair. The first-grade sorcerer grunts in annoyance and swats at his hands again, shrugging their shoulders up to their ears to hide them from their fellow teacher’s nimble hands. The blindfolded man then ‘‘relents’’ and only rests his hand on their shoulder.

“I don't understand why you feel bad for that guy; he works for those damn geezers.”  

He complains, tossing his head back childishly and digging in his ear with his pinky while tracing the lines in the textured ceiling with his gaze.

A few moments of silence –with the addition of soft rhythmic breathing– pass after his words before he lifts his head and casts his gaze to the left. The sight of a close-eyed [Name] greets him; their body and expression fully relaxed, allowing him to tell that they had fallen asleep easily. After a few seconds of admiring their sleeping face, Satoru deactivates his infinity, allowing the first-grade sorcerer's soft and warm cheek to rest on the fabric of his uniform jacket. 

A soft sigh escapes his nostrils as his hand resumes playing with their messy locks of hair.

“You know you could ask Yaga to switch classes with you if those third years are giving you this much trouble… Man, you're even more hard-headed than Suguru was…”  

The white-haired man mutters quietly, his own eyes closing as he rests his head on top of his friend's.

♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾•♡•♾

. . .

❝𝕻𝖚𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕳𝖊𝖆𝖉 𝕺𝖓 𝕸𝖞 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖚𝖑𝖉𝖊𝖗, 𝕳𝖔𝖑𝖉 𝕸𝖊 𝕴𝖓 𝖄𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝕬𝖗𝖒𝖘, 𝕭𝖆𝖇𝖞~ 𝕾𝖖𝖚𝖊𝖊𝖟𝖊 𝕸𝖊 𝕺𝖍-𝕾𝖔-𝕿𝖎𝖌𝖍𝖙, 𝕾𝖍𝖔𝖜 𝕸𝖊 𝕿𝖍𝖆𝖙 𝖄𝖔𝖚 𝕷𝖔𝖛𝖊 𝕸𝖊 𝕿𝖔𝖔~ ❞

🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•°•.🐇.•

Reblogs are appreciated ~ 𔓘

Wanna see similar content? Check out my Masterlist!

[80rosequartz08]

Vivziepop Can't Write POC

TW/CW: Racism, S/A mention

Surprisingly Vivziepop's work actually has more POC characters than I first realized. And all of them are...less then splendid.

Valkyrie

Valkyrie...poor, poor Valkyrie...

Forever cursed to sit in the back, shut up, and only stand up and contribute when her white savior girlfriend either royally screws things up or needs moral support.

I've spoken about my strong feelings on Valkyrie many times before in previous posts so I'll only really give one new shred of criticism I've realized: Making your main POC female cast member a former genocidal murderer who spent supposed years killing her girlfriend's kind is...a choice.

Emily and Sera

My biggest issue with Emily and Sera (especially Emily) is that you can hardly even tell that they're meant to be Black. Their skin is a weird dark grayish brown, their features are stock and bland (both of them lacking proper noses), and their hair is some puzzling mix of straight and poofy.

And the writing of them both is also unimpressive. Emily is a carbon-copy, stock "Bubbly young girl" archetype who never really does much other than sing and move around. She acts more like a piece on a chessboard than a character, simply moving and doing what the scene needs her to do. Sera on the other hand, is a personality-less stick figure who just kind of does things because...the plot requires it. Also, great move Vivzie! Making one of the main villains a Black woman who endorses genocide and has to act like a babysitter/manager to the loud, obnoxious, hate-spewing white guy. How progressive!

Velvette (Kind of?)

I...actually have no real words to say about Velvette. Which sounded like a positive until I realized the reason I had nothing to say about her is because she does nothing. Like, ever.

She just kind of stands around being annoying and ignoring her fellow Vee's whining fits and sex crimes. Jeez, uh...that argument between her and Carmilla was stupid, I guess?

Velvette: She sure is one of the characters of all time!

Valentino

Not even worth mentioning, you already know he's terrible.

Alastor/Husk

Oh dear god, Alastor...

Words fail me at how much of an insane fail both of these characters are. One is a offensive caricature of Voodou that would make Dr. Facilier roll in his grave, who's also somehow whiter than snow despite being half Creloe. And the other is a constantly complaining douche and a hopeless alcoholic, who has a whole song devoted to calling a sex worker a loser for being abused/not having a proper coping mechanism. Oh, AND he's enslaved by the other "Black" guy! HOW PROGRESSIVE 😀

Oh and Carmilla is there too, but I've been awake for too long and also have nothing to say about her :/

[casualhedonists]

so scarlet, it was maroon (18+)

pairing: coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: nsfw (18+), praise kink, oral sex, fingering (fem receiving), overstimulation, secrecy (kinda), multiple orgasms, bruising, biting, pre-tbosas, academy!coryo, he's also more dominant in this! yay dom coryo, this is a little rough but super consensually so

main masterlist // coryo masterlist

a/n: what's the point in getting laid if you can't use it as smut writing inspo? serious question

Your body gets littered with bruises every time you wake up next to Coriolanus. It doesn't matter if he means to leave them; it just sort of happens.

He fingers you open right there in his room, you grip his wrist as he smiles against your mouth like he’s not doing anything lewd, like Tigris and his Grandma’am weren’t right downstairs, cooking dinner. Your other hand twisting into his hair and pulling hard. His hands are a lot bigger than yours, they can reach places you usually can’t. You figured that out fast; almost as fast as he did.

He fucks his fingers into you like he doesn’t care if people hear. It feels dangerous, like you’re teetering on the edge of a building, brushing the sky and about to tumble down. You’re almost embarrassed by how easily he’s reading you like a fucking book, fingers pressed between the pages, carving notes into the margins. Your own hand presses against your mouth because you know his won’t, and you’re holding onto your last shred of dignity as tightly as you’re grabbing his hair. You don’t know where you wish he would look; between your spread legs or at the look on your face as you come undone. You’re glad it’s the former as your face contorts and he fucks you harder, any more and you might shatter.

You whimper, broken moans muffled into his neck. You hear the smile in his voice as he speaks.

“Oh, you’re fun.”

You melt. Try to whisper something back, some half-assed attempt at a rebuttal that you forget as soon as it leaves your lips.

You stare up the ceiling, ears ringing, a thin cast of sweat covering you over. You barely notice how he moves between your legs, shoulders shifting to push your thighs apart even more. You moan just at the sight of it, both of your hands now in his hair like they were drawn by some magnetic pull. He doesn’t waste time, doesn’t let your high die down. You guide his head where you want it but he doesn’t really need the direction, so as he speeds up you use the pull on his locks to buck up towards his mouth. He doesn’t let this last; pins you down again until you’re squirming on his tongue.

When he slides his fingers back into your cunt you forget being quiet, a cry slips out that only makes him move faster, like he’s desperate to hear more, to know exactly what he’s doing to you. He stops every so often, teeth nipping at your inner thighs, making you jerk with the pressure.

He holds you down as you cum against his tongue, lips pulling into a smirk as his thumb presses into your clit making you jolt.

You hear Tigris call up that dinner is ready, and fuck, it’s like he timed it to leave you flushed and fucked out while you tried to get through dinner with his cousin and grandmother.

The next day when you shower, you notice a bruise blooming on your arm, and much to your surprise, a second on your thigh, dark and bite-shaped. You drag him into a bathroom stall between classes and lift your skirt.

“This is your fault.” You say pointedly. His eyes darken at the sight of it, tracing it with his thumb. your breath hitches.

“Not here.” you hiss. “Fuck, I'm still sore.”

“Can you come over tomorrow night?” he asks absentmindedly. You frown.

“Is that okay?”

“Grandma’am loved you. Tigris, too, obviously. They’re glad that I found a good Capitol girl to take home.”

His breath tickles your ear.

“Of course, they don’t know just how good you were.”

“Coryo…”

“See you then, beautiful.”

He leaves you in the stall, catching your breath, and you know one thing for sure.

You’re so fucked.

a/n: i went to get the milk. i'm sorta back now? hope you lovely people are thriving, and that you enjoyed. life is still hellishly busy but i'm gonna try and be more active i MISS U ALL

tags: @xjinnix @bvngsblog @upsidedownjill

(to be added to my coryo taglist you can drop a comment here)

[ha-rinrin]

dont even know how to name this because of how short it is, im sorry if i disappeared. ​​i've been busy trying to fixing the past fics (wich are long as hell) and also making the new one. Jinx x f!reader word count:468 just a cute cheesy moment between you and jinx ^^

masterlist

The hum of machinery echoes through Jinx’s hideout, a space filled with scattered tools, colorful graffiti, and half-finished inventions. You’re lying on an old couch, watching Jinx as she fiddles with some wires at her workbench. Her blue braids sway as she moves, the vibrant colors of the neon lights casting playful shadows across the room.

"You're staring," Jinx says without turning around, her voice teasing.

You smirk. "I can't help it. You’re distracting."

Jinx throws a glance over her shoulder, her eyes flashing with that familiar mischievous spark. "I’m always distracting."

You chuckle, but before you can respond, she whips around, tossing something small in your direction. Instinctively, you catch it— just for it to be one of her glitter bombs, you trow it in the air before it can explode, keeping yourself tidy while the glitter fell down like snow .

“Really, Jinx?” you laugh, admiring the show her bomb just made.

She crosses the room with a grin and sits down on your lap. "Hey, I’m trying to keep things exciting. Don’t want you getting bored of me."

You put your hands on her waist, pulling her close. "Like I could ever get bored of you."

Jinx leans her head against your shoulder, burying her head in the crook of your neck, her fingers absentmindedly tracing shapes on your arm. The loud, chaotic energy that usually surrounds her feels distant now, replaced by a quiet calm as the two of you settle into the moment. Despite the wild nature she’s known for, it’s in moments like these—when it’s just the two of you—that she lets her guard down.

“I don’t get it,” she mumbles after a while, her voice softer than usual.

“Don’t get what?”

“How you’re always so… calm around me. I’m a walking disaster.”

You tilt her chin up gently, meeting her eyes. "Because I know the real you, Jinx. The one who’s more than just explosions and chaos. You’re brilliant, creative… and yeah, a little crazy. But I love every bit of it."

A flicker of vulnerability flashes in her eyes, but it quickly fades as she smirks, pushing her lips into a mock pout. “Love, huh? Now you’ve gone and made it all sappy.”

You roll your eyes with a grin, leaning in to press a soft kiss to her lips. The teasing moment gives way to something deeper, a warmth settling between you as her hands find their way to your neck, pulling you closer. It’s messy, electric—just like her—and yet there’s an unmistakable tenderness in the way her lips move against yours.

When you finally pull back, Jinx’s smirk returns, her playful tone breaking the intimacy but not the connection. “Fine, fine. I guess I love you too. Just don’t tell anyone, okay? Gotta keep up my dangerous reputation.”

[pomefioredove]

OH MY SEVEN! PLEASE I NEED A PART 2 OF MC GETTING BOUGHT BY NBC (or maybe they get bought by rsa? By like Chenya or Neige?)

part two of the NBC ending is here! very intrigued by the idea of an RSA ending, especially since our knowledge is limited. I also kin snow white so maybe I have a little soft spot for neige.

bonus: I had to stop writing this to save another animal that got inside. second time this week.

parts 1 | 2 | 3 | kalim | 'bad' ending

summary: yuu transfers to RSA type of post: short fic characters: neige, chenya additional info: yuu is gender neutral, pretty platonic

This entire ordeal had been nothing if not shady.

From the purpose, to the "donations", to the absence of the prefect themselves...

...And now, the grand announcement- that of which Crowley had been hyping up for days- was cancelled.

"I don't get it," Epel murmurs, walking on a sideways footpath back to the hall of mirrors. "You really think he just took all the money and ran?"

Vil huffs, the disappointment heavy in his voice. "Well, it certainly seems that way. No one's seen him all day,"

Despite the sour mood over the trio of Pomefiore students, the day is bright and sunny. Birds sang, the sun shone, even the wind carried a suspiciously merry tune with it.

"We should not give up hope so soon. Anything could happen," Rook ponders. "Who knows? The day is not over yet."

"I'm starting to wish it was," Vil says. "It's far too jovial for such an underwhelming afternoon. And the whole purpose of this walk was to clear our minds... hmph."

Epel squints ahead, taking in the way beams of sunlight seem to shine through the foliage, casting rays of gold over the usually darker campus.

"Y'know, I betcha- I-I mean, I think you might be onto something. It is unusually cheery today, isn't it?"

Vil huffs. "Wonderful. Nature itself mocks me,"

"Non, it's not the climate which has changed... it's more of a presence. Monsieur Pommette is correct," Rook says. "Something has shifted here."

Vil rolls his eyes, not exactly in the mood to be playing word games with Rook again. He shoots a glare to Epel, warning the boy not to encourage him, and a silence falls over the three.

Though... he still cannot deny that something feels aloof. Something that isn't sitting right with him...

He sighs. "Perhaps we should check on the prefect. Just in case,"

And so the three stop in their tracks and awkwardly, though hurriedly, walk to Ramshackle.

Nothing is quite amiss about the building itself, though, still, there's something hazy and dreamlike about it. A warm, golden glow that turns the rough and brittle exterior into a quaint and charming home, full of light.

"I don't like this," Epel murmurs. Vil does not respond, but he understands. He's having similar thoughts.

Just as they're about to enter, someone tall and dark steps outside.

"Crowley!" all three snap, in varying tones of voice.

The man goes stiff and, for a moment, looks as if he's about to make a run for it- though he thankfully holds his ground. "Ah- good afternoon, dear pupils. Having a... studiful day?"

"That's not a word," Vil crosses his arms and glares. "Why are you here?"

"I was... well... just discussing some things... with... the prefect..."

He sounds utterly nervous.

Vil's eyes narrow. "What are you hiding?"

Before he can answer, the door behind him opens again, and you peer outside, giving Crowley a chance to escape. "Guys?"

"Trickster! We are relieved to see you in good health!"

"Hm? Why wouldn't I be?"

Epel shakes his head. "W-well, you just haven't been around much, and we saw Crowley- hey, where'd he go?"

Vil grumbles something indistinct, massaging his temples. "That man..." he sighs. "But back to business. Are you well? What's happened?"

You look away. "Well-"

Thankfully, before you have to explain it yourself, the door opens wider, leaving the Pomefiore trio face-to-face with the one person they least expected to see.

Neige beams. "Oh, my... hello, Vil! I didn't think I'd run into you here!"

The housewarden's eyes immediately narrow, and it takes him a moment to respond. "Yes, well, as you know, I go to school here. Would anyone care to explain this?"

A voice from behind the trio echoes. "Oh, I volunteer!"

Epel squeaks and jumps (much to his embarrassment) and the other two whirl around to an ever-smiling face they can't quite recall...

"See, we're on the moving squad," Che'nya giggles, slinking back to the front door of Ramshackle. "You wanna know why? I'm sure you're just dying with curiosity, aren't you?"

"I can put the pieces together myself, thank you," Vil murmurs. "But I do have a few questions."

Che'nya opens his mouth wide again-

"-Not for you," he turns to you. "How? And why, exactly?"

You shrug, looking to Neige for help.

Which he gladly provides, of course. "Well... it was more of a school decision. We heard what was happening, and held a vote," he says, speaking tentatively while under Vil's astute gaze. "We've heard lots about how much your prefect has helped here, and how unfortunate their circumstances are, and... well..."

"A person like that just doesn't go to NRC," Che'nya snickers.

Vil glares for a moment longer, and then sighs. "Well... this is certainly a turn of bad luck for the lot of us,"

"But I can visit!" you insist.

Neige and Che'nya both nod in agreement, though the latter's placid smile makes his approval seem less genuine.

"Well," Vil says, turning to the boys beside him. "Don't you two have anything to say?"

Epel clears his throat, trying his best to sound light and formal. "I think it's... it's... I'll miss you," he sulks.

"A magnifique opportunity! Think how much you will learn, how many new people you will meet- oh, you must allow me to visit often! I could not bear to let you make all these beautiful discoveries on your own!" Rook says, dabbing the corner of his eyes with a handkerchief.

"Why am I not surprised?" Vil sighs. "Well... I suppose I have a duty to inform the others. And, perhaps..."

He pauses, his watchful gaze fixed on you.

"...We might hold a vote of our own."

[howcouldmuffin]

Childhood Friend

You’ve always been secretly in love with Jace, but you’ve also been having a secret relationship with his younger brother.

PAIRING : Modern!Jacaerys Velaryon x Fem!Reader x Modern!Lucerys Velaryon

WARNING : NSFW, Modern AU, Friends With Benefits, Polyamory, Mentions about the use of alcohol and drugs, Sex Content, Threesome

AN : When I came up with this plot, I felt like I was crazy, but I really enjoy the messy relationships. I hope you like it. Love.

please be kind to me English is not my first language.

You were sitting in the middle of the party, surrounded by loud music and people dancing as if it were the end of the world. Amidst the revelry, you were the only one who looked out of place, feeling bored and disconnected. Your eyes were fixed on a sight that troubled you deeply.

Jacaerys Velaryon, the boy-next-door you had secretly admired since childhood, was kissing the beautiful Sara Snow. Their compatibility was striking, and it made you feel even more frustrated. Deciding you’d had enough of the party, you stood up to leave, only for Lucerys, his younger brother, to catch your arm.

“Don’t go yet, pretty.” he said. “Let’s head back together. I’ll just grab something. Wait here, okay?” Before you could respond or protest, he dashed off to get what he needed.

You and Luke had the first Friends With Benefits relationship when the New Year's party at his house about a year ago. You went to college for the first year and he was in the last year of high school. It happened very quickly and you were both drunk. You had never been so drunk that you lost time like that before, and it only happened once. But you didn’t regret that he was the one who took your virginity. You and he remain good friends, both in bed and now.

“Want to catch a movie in my room tonight?” he asked, as you slumped in the car that his mom had gifted him for college.

“No thanks, I’m tired.”

“Are you really that thrown off seeing him with that girl? Need something to unwind?” He said with a teasing grin. “Consider this your escape.”

“Fine, fine. I can’t be bothered to argue.” you replied, too tired to protest.

Yes, he knew you had a thing for his older brother, yet here you were, tangled up with him instead. What a mess you were, but it was just a fling. You never expected to end up with his brother—your long-time crush. If it were ever meant to be, it would have happened by now.

When you arrived at his place, right next door, you found the house was quiet, everyone asleep but for a few dim lights casting a soft glow in the hallways. His home was a mansion compared to yours, thanks to his large family, but they always treated you warmly.

As soon as you were in his room, he pounced on you with a kiss. It was fiery and intense, and you struggled to match his rapid pace. He trailed kisses down your neck, but you had to stop him, pushing him gently away with your small hands.

“Luke, let’s just watch a movie.” you insisted. He pulled back, his face showing a hint of disappointment, those irresistible puppy-dog eyes of his giving you a pleading look. “If not, I’m heading home.”

“Alright, just a movie then.” he relented, grabbing the remote. You wandered over to grab one of his shirts, changing into it before returning to him.

“Did you know that when a girl wears a guy’s shirt, it means she’s wearing her boyfriend’s shirt.” he said with a smirk as he flopped onto the bed.

“That’s nonsense.” you shot back. “I wear my dad’s shirts all the time and it doesn’t mean anything.” You lay down next to him, grabbing the remote and flipping through channels to find something to watch together.

“You’re such a goofball.” he said, ruffling your hair affectionately and wrapping an arm around you. Both of you were aware that your relationship had evolved beyond mere friends, but neither of you were ready to put a label on it.

You woke up to find that Luke wasn’t beside you. He must be in the shower. Reaching for your phone on the nightstand, you remembered you had afternoon classes, so there was no rush. You headed to the bathroom to freshen up and found him in the shower.

“I’m heading downstairs.” you called out to him. As you walked out of the room, you ran into Jace, who looked surprised to see you coming from Luke’s room. You just smiled at him and went downstairs.

“Did you spend the night with Luke?” Jace asked, following you down the stairs. “We have a guest room, you know. You didn’t need to stay with him.”

“I just went to watch a movie in his room.” you said.

“We’re not kids anymore. It’s not appropriate,” Jace replied.

“Can you stop acting like my dad?” you retorted, bumping into the housekeeper.

“Good morning, Rhaenyra!” you greeted her with a hug. “Sorry I didn’t let you know I’d be staying over.”

“It’s alright, dear.” she replied, kissing your cheek. “Did you sleep well?”

“I slept great, thank you. I should head back home now.”

“Won’t you stay for breakfast?”

“I can’t. I have classes.”

She smiled warmly at you, just like a second mother. She’s always so kind and generous, always giving you gifts on your birthday. It’s endearing.

“You know, Jace.” she said, looking at her son, “it would be wonderful to have her as another daughter.”

“She already is like a daughter to you.” Jace said.

“Is she heading home already?” Lucerys asked, coming down the stairs.

“Just left.” Jace answered.

“I was going to bring she her earrings.” Lucerys said. “I’ll save them for next time.”

“You all seem a bit off, or maybe I’m just imagining things.” Rhaenyra mused.

“Are you going to the football match today?” Amelia asked as you walked towards the cafeteria.

“Sure, it’s Luke’s first match of the season.” you replied with a shrug. “Aren’t you going?”

“I have to. It’s a chance to cheer on my future boyfriend.” she said with a playful grin.

“Oh really? Who’s the lucky guy this time?” you inquired, raising an eyebrow. “Last time it was Ethan or Finn, right?”

“Ugh, forget Finn. My future boyfriend is Jasper.”

“Jasper? Who’s that?”

“The handsome guy in Professor Michael’s class.” she explained.

“Oh, the one you’ve been gushing about. But you know how the football club guys are.”

“Including your beloved Lucerys?” Amelia teased.

“Let’s not get into that.” you said, pausing. “The last time I mentioned something like this was with Jacaerys.”

“Poor little bird.” Amelia laughed.

“Hello there!” Baela and Rheana, Luke and Jace’s cousins, greeted as they joined you. You often had meals and outings with them.

“We’ve got special seats for the match today if you’re interested—” Rhaena started, but was interrupted by your friend.

“Interested!” Amelia chimed in unison.

“Amelia, you go ahead. I’ll hang out with Rhaenyra. That way, you can fangirl over the guys without any restraint.” you suggested.

“Future daughter-in-law duties, huh?” Amelia joked, exchanging meaningful glances with the twins.

“I’m not, and please don’t say that.” you whispered, recalling the time in your freshman year when you were followed and discovered it was someone who had a crush on Jace. It had made you hesitant to go home alone.

“But let’s grab something to eat before the lines get too long.” you interjected to ease the awkward moment. You couldn’t help but smile at how well you’d played them.

You’re at Jace's birthday party with lots of people around. Right now, you’re sitting next to Luke, who is chatting with his friends while you’re boredly scrolling through social media on your phone. You see Jace walking over and sitting next to you. You notice that Luke’s arm around your shoulder has tightened.

“What did you get me this year?” Jace asks.

“I’m not telling.” you reply. “You’ll have to open it yourself.”

“Can I ask for something extra?”

“Huh? Ask for what?”

“Come with me.” he whispers in your ear and extends his hand for you to take. You glance at Luke, who is still talking with his friends, and decide to follow Jace. You take his hand and slowly get up, but Luke’s arm moves with you.

“Where are you going?” He sees you and Jace. “Don’t let her do anything weird, okay?” He reluctantly lets you go.

You follow Jace to the part of the house he wants to show you. His house is huge, and you know it well. As you pass by many people admiring the man in front of you, you feel how much he seems like a king, and you’re not sure what you are. He’s leading you to the third floor of the house, a place no one else is allowed to go during the party.

You find that he’s taking you to his bedroom, which is close to Lucerys’s room. You wonder what he wants to show you. He opens the door to his room. The décor is different from Luke’s but still part of the same house. You sit down on the long chair at the foot of his bed while he does something.

You slowly explore his room. You haven’t been here often compared to Luke’s room and notice family photos on a side table. You see pictures from when they were children, and you’re in them too. You still hold onto your favorite doll, which you keep in your room. You feel Jace behind you, and you wonder if he’s going to show you something.

“Remember when we were kids?” he hugs you from behind. You’re surprised but don’t push him away. “Don’t worry about anything yet.” He kisses the back of your neck.

“Jace” you try to keep your voice steady. “What are you asking for?” His lips are all over the back of your neck, and the gentle bites that show possession make your body tingle.

“I want you.” You turn to face him. He kisses you without waiting for an answer. You slowly use your hands to push him away.

“Are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

And it happens. You think it’s really good; it’s different from when you did it with Luke. Both are good, but this one feels different. You look at the mirror in his room. He left kiss marks on your neck even though you told him not to.

“I need to find a way to cover this up before going back down.” you tell him as he’s putting on his shirt. “Do you have concealer?”

“You know, darling, you don’t have to cover it up.” he kisses your cheek. “Everyone will know you’re mine.”

“We haven’t talked about this, Jace, and I don’t want to be the center of attention.” He looks a bit disappointed but goes to get something from the drawer to cover it up for you. He keeps staring at you while you handle what he did.

“I promise I won’t do it again.” he says. “I’ll do it somewhere else.”

“I think you should go down first. I’ll come down after.” you say, patting your neck. “I don’t want any trouble.”

“Trouble? With whom?”

“With your girls.” you reply. “They’re pretty scary, you know.”

“What can they do? I only have you.”

“No thanks.” you walk toward the door. “Just come down later.” You close the door behind you and head back to the party downstairs.

When you get downstairs, you notice that the crowd has thinned out and the music isn’t as annoying. You look for your friends but can’t find anyone. A hand grabs your arm, making you turn around.

“Luke.” you’re startled. “Have you seen Amelia or Baela?”

“Where have you been?” He doesn’t answer and asks you urgently. “I’ve been looking for you all night.”

“She was with me.” Jacaerys, who comes down after you, answers and wraps his arm around your waist.

“We were talking in the room.” you tell Luke. “I want to go home now.”

“Let me walk you.” Luke says. You step out of Jace’s embrace and head to the door. He rushes to walk beside you.

When you get to the front of your house, you’re about to say goodbye to him, but he leans in to kiss you. These brothers sure know how to catch you off guard. You kiss him back for a moment before pulling away.

“Are you sleeping with Jace?” he asks. “I’m not mad.”

“Hmm.” you reply. “It was just some fun.”

“Do you like me at all?” he asks. “Am I better than him?”

“Of course, you’re always a lovely little brother, and as for who’s better, I think it’s about the same.”

“Do you love me?” He asks again.

“I’m not sure, maybe.” you say. “We’ve already agreed on the nature of our relationship.”

“I’m okay with Jace being part of us too.”

“What are you talking about?” you laugh. “Just go to bed. Sweet dreams.” You lean in to kiss his cheek and close the door behind you.

It feels strange. You no longer dislike Jace, but he feels distant from you to the point where you no longer want to be his girlfriend. Luke will always be a good little brother to you, but your relationship with him isn’t just sibling-like either. What should you do with this relationship?

You’re currently in a car with two siblings, heading towards their family’s vacation home. You tried every possible way to avoid traveling with them, but luck wasn’t on your side. Your mom insisted firmly that she wouldn’t let you come if you didn’t ride with them. Did they slip your mom some money, perhaps?

You sit alone in the back seat, staring out the side window, trying to ignore the occasional glances from Jace and Luke. Since that party, you haven’t really talked to them seriously, having avoided conversations on purpose.

The vacation home is a place you never thought could actually exist. Nestled in a forest with a lake right in front, it’s a picture-perfect setting. You can’t help but wonder if they were born with a silver spoon in their mouth.

Upon arrival, you all help unload the car. Their luggage is minimal since it’s their family home. Luke comes over to help you with your bag, which you really didn’t need help with since you only had a rolling suitcase and a backpack. Jace goes to open the house door and shows you to the guest room on the second floor.

“My room is on the third floor.” Jace says. “Call us if you need anything.” You nod in acknowledgment before they leave. The tension starts to ease up a bit, they’re probably feeling as awkward as you are. You start organizing your things in the room, pull out a bikini, and change into it, covering up with a T-shirt and shorts.

You decide to go sit in the living room and read, enjoying the view of the lake. When you get downstairs, you find Luke already there, reading a book as well. You choose to sit next to him and try to act as normal as possible.

“The twins said they’ll leave tomorrow.” Jace says as he comes down. “The car had a bit of trouble, and the Green family is stuck in an urgent meeting. They can fly out the day after tomorrow.”

“Did you know?” Luke whispers. “It’s just us here in the house right now.” This makes your face turn red. You quickly use the book to cover your face.

“Want to go for a swim?” Jace asks, pulling the book away from your face before you can respond. He lifts you up and carries you outside, with Luke following closely behind.

Jace sets you down on the wooden deck and takes off his shirt. Luke does the same. You feel extremely shy, even though you’ve all seen each other before; it makes your heart race. You slowly take off your T-shirt and shorts, getting ready to jump in the lake after them.

It feels like going back to childhood again. The three of you used to play together like this all the time. You don’t want to lose such a good relationship, but you might realize too late how important it is. Only now do you understand that it’s almost too late to change things.

You and the two siblings decided to watch a movie together in the living room. You sit down in the middle between them, with Luke on your right and Jace on your left. After some time adjusting the remote to find a movie, you finally settle into the wide sofa.

After a while, you start to notice that their hands are not still. One hand slips under your shirt and begins to slide along your skin, slowly squeezing your chest. Meanwhile, the other hand moves up your thigh, continuing until it reaches your panty. You try to pull their hand away, but it’s ineffective. Their octopus-like hands continue to flow across your body.

“Stop.” you say with an unsteady voice. “We can’t do this.” Your voice trembles and starts to waver.

“Can’t we?” Jace asks.

“Please.” Luke adds. Their puppy-dog eyes make it hard for you to refuse, and their mischievous gaze melts your resolve.

“Alright.” you reply. “But let’s do it upstairs.”

The door to the room closed. The three of you were like magnets drawn together. Luke's lips pressed against yours urgently. You felt their hands, like octopuses, roaming all over your body, both squeezing and biting, leaving red marks.

"Don't leave marks." you said, your voice breaking. As your lips parted, the younger and older ones took their place. Their gazes made you feel as though you were completely naked, even though you hadn't removed a single piece of clothing.

The three slowly moved to the bed, Jacaerys slowly caught you lying down without leaving his lips apart, you saw that Luke was bullish on topless, just like Jace, he slowly held your legs apart, not in a hurry.

"Our angels." Jace said, and slowly took off the shirt and pants that covered you. "All of me" Lucerys is not less. When holding your legs in the shape of an M, smeared the kiss from the lap to your thigh. Use the bite to cause a rose colour around the thigh. Your prohibition is not effective.

Luke's fingers chase cleft, use their fingers to play with your swollen clit, your back is not on the bed, moaning out of your mouth but Jace's hand holds your waist to close to the bed as before, his tongue licks all over his body, bites the waist, chest, upper arms, neck, everywhere in the upper part of your body.

"God— Jace" You sing when his tongue circles your hard nipples. The line of feeling there makes you very sensitive. The younger brother is displeased that you are moaning about your brother. He gradually accelerates the rhythm that drags with your clit faster and faster. Your hands can’t stay still, and you find that Luke’s curly hair makes you feel good.

“Lucerys—” your voice is hoarse, now you are wet and want a lot, Jace leaves your body as a lip again, your other hand is on his face, supporting you in degrees to exchange sweetness for each other

The force in the palm of your hand on the Luke's head increases, a muffled moan from your mouth. When Lucerys starts to use his fingers into your body, you are soaked and needs fulfilment. He doesn't stop at one finger. When your body is conditioned, he gradually increases one finger at a time.

Jace detachs from you and gently takes off his shorts, you can see his hard core, it's big enough to keep you from forgetting its size in a few days, he jerks it up a few times before feeding it to you like a delicious sausage.

“Open your mouth for me, love.” You start by kissing it of his head and start using a small tongue to lick around the tip. His moan makes you feel good. Soon he starts stuffing it into your mouth and you take it as if it's your favorite popsicle.

The hand of the man on top grasped your face and gently rubbed your cheek, lying down, “You are my Goddess.” you feel like you are floating in the sky.

The fingers transformed into Luke's cock came in one go, making you scream incoherently in the mouth. “What a noble cunt.” He moaned. Lucerys held your waist tightly. His hips slammed in with a fierce and unmerciless rhythm.

Jacearys too, the two hips that hit your body are fast and violent, but there's no denying that you'll like it, like it because they're the ones who do, treat as if you're just theirs, no one can take you out of them.

"I'm close, love" Luke said. Use one of his hands to touch your clit. "At the same time." Jace added. The atmosphere in the room is hot, even though the air conditioner is in the degree that makes it possible to cover the clothes. The sweat on your body is popping along the body. The sound of flesh hitting flesh t is loud throughout the room.

The rhythm of the three of you who didn't have any posture to drop or shaft down at all, turned out to be faster with unlimited acceleration. Finally, your finished moan came out. Luke holds your waist tightly, pushing his hips as close to you as possible. While Jace pulled out his core and released it in your abdomen.

Your voice is hoarse after liberation, the body is a little twitching, “Such a good girl.” compliments from Jace, your consciousness is barely left, they turn your body upside down, alternating the place of Luke and Jace, brother's big hands squeeze your hips until it leaves a red mark.

You almost lost your balance when Jace took his finger into your cunt that still had Luke's cum. “Don't let it flow out, love.” He inserted his cock again into one round. “This cunt that never really betrayed me.” He used his finger that relied on your little cunt to clean you and you agreed to do it.

"Good girl." Luke said. "A good girl must not refuse the request, right?" The person in front of you pulls his cock that is no different from his brother up and down. "Suck it." You use your small mouth to gradually dominate the bigness of the man in front of you. It almost can't make you suck. His hand will gradually up your hair. "The most fuckable person"

Your brain has nothing to think about, all white, the sound of flesh and the lewd sound that you are not ashamed of. The tingling below that Jacearys gives almost makes you forget to focus on what is in your mouth. The big palms of Jace and Luke are stamped on your butt as if they are the owner.

“I can't imagine who it will be if it's not you here.” Jacearys bent down to say to you. “Because it's only you.” he continued. “This cunt so tight and that suits my cock the most." The hips that hit in at a speed that is not different from his brother. It hit your g-spot, repeating, making you almost crazy.

“I'm close.” Jace said, and Luke's hand reached to grab your clit, it made you almost scream out with the thrill they received, and you finished squeezing Jace and Luke's cum coming out of your mouth.

You lay on your back on the large bed, with Jace and Luke snuggled close beside you. It was a moment of respite before you'd need to clean up again.

"We've been thinking." Jace said, his voice soft but earnest, "that maybe we should be in a relationship—polyamory."

You glanced at him, then at Luke. “What will my mother and your mothers think?”

"They'll be thrilled." Luke responded with a grin.

“Think about everything we've done over the past two weeks without any of you.”

“You two are incredibly devious.”

“So, do you love us?” they asked in unison, their voices filled with hopeful anticipation.

You smiled and replied, “Yes, I do.”