#and he was clearly emotional after both songs

[gardenwalrus]

horrendous camerawork by me but i zoomed in on my video of paul after now and then if any of you’d like a better view of an octogenarian getting emotional

[runariya]

Crash Course in Love • 3

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, tension, bad communication skills, heartbreak, hangover, doubts, emotional rollercoaster, fight against nature, being stranded, crying, verbal fighting and screaming, explicit sexual content, bit of dry humping, fingering, scissoring, unprotected sex, breast play, hickeys, scratch marks, love bites, lmk if I forgot smth word count: 15.3k

a/n: i'm absolutely knackered now, completely worn out. BUT it was sooooo worth it lol hope y'all enjoy it to the fullest bc next update probably won't be until the new year...sooooo...have funnnn!

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 • 02 • masterlist • 04

Day 4

“Fuck.”

You think you’ve woken up in hell—it must be—because, oh god, you feel like death. Your eyes are crusted shut, and you can’t feel your legs. But as you rub the sleep out of your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows, you realise it’s just Namjoon lying across them, snoring away.

You try to take in the room, piecing together the hazy puzzle of last night. The party, the song, you running off only to drown yourself with Yoongi and Namjoon in alcohol, throwing your own little after-party. You remember crying, remember singing your heart out to sad love songs blaring through Dionysus. What a fucking mess you’ve become…

But after all that chaos, there’s only blackness. And seeing Yoongi and Namjoon still here with you in the suite, all of you fully dressed and reeking of alcohol, tells you enough. And as you groan, not just from the bottomless pit of stupidity, but from the pounding in your head, you let yourself collapse back onto your pillow.

You fight back another wave of tears, wishing the last 24 hours could just be erased, wishing you were back at home. You fumble blindly for your phone, finding it on the nightstand nearby.

2:56 p.m.

Just brilliant. Though, at least you’re spared from spending the whole day on the slopes. Not that you’d be able to walk straight with how you’re feeling, but a win’s a win.

You need to get up, though, so you start stirring both men awake. Yoongi’s not blocking you, but if you’re up, he has to be as well. Much to your surprise, both of them wake without protest, getting themselves into a sitting position on the bed, looking like zombies straight out of The Walking Dead. You reckon you look about the same.

“Sorry,” Namjoon mumbles as you begin massaging some blood back into your legs, which feel like they’re fighting for dear life.

“S’alright,” you croak out, unable to manage much more.

“Painkillers.” Yoongi just sits there, staring at his blanket, the rise and fall of his chest the only proof he’s still alive, though barely.

You and Namjoon both nod, but no one actually moves until, eventually, Namjoon rises—slowly, hands leaving the mattress only at the last second before he somehow straightens up and makes his way to the door, though it’s anything but a straight line.

You’re the second to get up, staggering into the bathroom to wash off everything clinging to you. You’re not sure if it’s just dried sweat or a bit of alcohol still on your skin, though you have a vague memory of Tae pouring something over your back. Either way, you’re in desperate need of a full shower to feel human again.

The only upside to this hangover is that your mind has finally shut up. Every bit of energy is focused on basic bodily functions, like breathing without throwing up and blinking your bloodshot eyes now and then. You’re not even fazed when Yoongi stumbles in, taking a piss that seems to go on forever; he clearly couldn’t give a fuck, and neither can you.

When you’ve finished rinsing your hair and are wrapped in a towel that’s too soft to absorb any actual moisture, you quietly switch places with Yoongi, both of you unintentionally making a point not to make eye contact.

You’re not entirely sure why you’re still here—not just in this town but on this entire trip. There’s no real drive left in you to give Jungkook closure, no fight in you at all, and definitely no desire to ever see him again.

So, you decide to get the hell out of here. Not right this second, no, your blood alcohol is likely still sky-high and will take a nosedive soon, taking you down with it, but tomorrow, you’re leaving. It’s the healthiest thing you could do, because frankly, you lost Jungkook years ago, and that realisation sobers you up more than anything else could. 

It doesn’t stir the same emotions it once did as you pull Jungkook’s old hoodie out of your luggage—or maybe you’re just too tired to care—as you tug the oversized black fabric over your head, the only comfortable thing you’d brought on this trip. Some leggings on, with your phone stuffed into the front pocket of the hoodie, you make your way to the main area, letting your eyes roam to maybe spot your missing phone case.

Jungkook’s already lounging in a single armchair, poking absently at the fire with an iron stick, his gaze tracking you as you move around the room. But you ignore him. It’s not like you’re being petty this time, and he can probably tell from your posture that you’re just not in the mood to interact at all.

You’re especially glad he doesn’t mention your—or rather, his—hoodie, and when you give up the search, realising the case isn’t lying around here either, you shuffle over to the sofa, collapsing onto it and immediately pulling out your phone. Scrolling through YouTube, you pull the hoodie’s hood down a bit further to block out Jungkook entirely, settling on a spa video promising a very satisfying blackhead extraction.

If your life’s this miserable, you’re at least going to give yourself this kind of satisfaction, even if it’s short-lived. And anyway, there are millions of similar videos waiting for you and your lonely ass. 

Namjoon emerges midway through your video, nudging your legs to make space for him. You shift, but only to let your legs settle in his lap as soon as he sits down.

“Here,” he offers, handing you two painkillers, which you take like they’re sweets, chewing them up so they might kick in faster. He pulls a disgusted face, but it quickly fades—probably can’t be bothered to waste any energy as well. 

“Jimin brought food,” Jungkook breaks the silence, still poking at the fire. “Should I get you some?”

You’re not sure if he’s talking to you or Namjoon, but you answer anyway. “I’m good, thanks.”

Maybe he expected a different answer, as his stick pauses for a moment, but you couldn’t care less. The chance to talk things out has passed, along with your will. It’s on him now. You’ve seen and heard enough.

“Why did you leave the party so early?” he tries again.

“It was because of me, I just—”

You cut Namjoon off; he really doesn’t need to do this for you. “Stop lying, I wanted to leave, and Namjoon and Yoongi didn’t want me to be alone.”

“Why?”

You pause your video, turning to meet Jungkook’s eyes. He’s bouncing his leg and chewing on his lip ring again, but it’s not your problem if he’s anxious or whatever. “None of your business.”

Namjoon gives your knee a slight squeeze, and while Jungkook turns his attention back to the flames like you’re the one who’s hurt him, he can go fuck himself. You’re not dealing with him right now. Not when he’s got Hara pregnant and sings love songs for her. 

Yoongi enters at that moment, settling into the armchair beside Jungkook and just managing to catch the two painkillers Namjoon tosses his way.

Silence returns, and you restart your video, losing yourself in the meditative extractions.

“Can I get a haaaawyeah?!” Tae bursts into the hostel, bringing Hope and Hara with him. Three of the four present groan in agony at the sudden noise, and you’re one of them. Still, you shift to sit up, making room for them to join.

You’re not sure why Hara chooses to sit next to you, quietly handing over a takeaway box of food with that warm, familiar smile of hers—you know it’s got to be from Jin’s. 

“I’m not hungry,” you mumble, the bite you had a few minutes ago already feeling like it never had been there to begin with.

“Please, eat something. Your body needs it.”

She’s right, but you can’t bring yourself to even lift the lid, staring blankly at it as if it’ll somehow reveal yet another surprise you’re not ready for. You know it’s not Hara’s fault you’re feeling like this, or that Jungkook chose her, but right now, all you can feel is bitterness, and her kindness only multiplies it.

Almost unconsciously, you glance up and find Jungkook’s eyes fixed on you, his leg still bouncing lightly, clearly tuned out from the lively conversation between the other guys.

You’ve kept this empty space in your heart reserved for him for so long, never realising he’d never fill it again. You just don’t have the energy for this anymore, the will to keep playing his game where he pulls you back into his world only to remind you you’re no longer really part of it. Not properly.

You wonder if Jungkook even realises what he’s doing, if he has any clue about how his actions come across. Or maybe he’s just as stuck as you, caught up in his patterns and too blind to see beyond them. The care and worry in his eyes when he looks at you, when he notices you making poor choices for your health—maybe, you reason, it’s just because he doesn’t know how to be any other way and nothing more. 

But that’s the thing about Jungkook: he genuinely cares. And that’s why he’s going to be the best dad on this earth—just not to your children.

“I’m really not hungry.” You think you see Jungkook’s jaw tick just a bit, but he again chooses to say nothing, his gaze, though, never wavering from you.

“I didn’t mean to, but damn, that woman was something else,” Tae bursts, sprawled on the floor in front of you, accidentally nudging your knee as he laughs with the others.

“Who?” you ask, trying to tune into the conversation just to get away from the other. 

“That woman who was sitting by the bar all night. Tae pulled her,” Hope bursts out laughing, especially at your disgusted, shocked face.

“Was she any good?” Namjoon inquires, like it’s the most normal thing to ask about a one-night stand.

“What can I say? She taught me things I didn’t even know existed.”

Yep, that info’s enough to make you gag for real, and judging by Yoongi and Jungkook’s expressions, they’re feeling the same.

“Want some?” you offer Yoongi the box, hoping to steer the conversation away from…whatever this is. But he just shakes his head, clearly not ready to risk upsetting his stomach as well. 

He’s pale as it is, and you can see the colour drain from his already bloodshot eyes at the sight of food. Poor man. 

“Jungkook, you hungry?” Hara offers softly, and you can’t help but glance at him again. 

His bouncing leg stills the instant she speaks to him. And even though it’s true—Jungkook can eat like a bottomless pit, never saying no to food—you don’t really want to interact with him right now. But, some things haven’t changed at all it seems, like you not being able to say no when it comes to him. 

Jungkook looks at you with those big, hopeful eyes, as if to say just eat it yourself—he’d never, like all those years ago, take food from you when it’s clear you’re barely eating yourself. But you just can’t, and with that, you get up, lean over the small coffee table separating you both, and offer him the box with both hands, a small, shaky smile on your face.

Jungkook stands up too, reaching for the food between you. You think he’ll just take it, but his hands cover yours, brushing over them until they settle on the container, and then, finally, he takes it. It catches you off guard, not just because he touched you first and not the box, but because it was absolutely deliberate.

Why he did it, you don’t know, but all you can think about is getting away fast before all your bottled-up emotions explode in your face.

“Can…uh…can someone drive me to the nearest petrol station?” you ask, standing there rooted to the spot, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as everyone looks up at you.

Jungkook’s half a mind to put the box back on the table and get up again, but Hope springs up from his spot beside Taehyung, fishing his keys from his pocket. “I’ve got you.”

“Thanks, I’ll just get ready.” You cast him a quick, grateful look and head to your room, eyes down.

Hope just saved you there, because if Jungkook had offered to drive, you don’t know what you’d have done. Sure, you want him to be happy—you’re not some heartless person who wishes bad things on people, especially those who are…were…close to you.

 But what about your happiness? Don’t you deserve to find peace too? To protect yourself? So yes, you’ll take every bit of help you can get, even if it’s just a lift to the petrol station.

You didn’t mean to startle so violently when you turned to close the suite door, but honestly, you hadn’t even heard Hara following you, moving soundlessly like a ghost.

“C…can I help you?” You’re gripping the door until your knuckles turn white under your sweater paws, the door not even fully open anymore.

“Can I come in?”

It’s like something out of a nightmare, knowing you can’t turn her away just because Hara’s never done anything to hurt you. You have to remind yourself again and again that she’s not the villain here, chanting it silently in your head, trying to drown out the hurt that won’t go away whenever you look at her.

So, you nod, opening the door a bit wider, then turn around to let her in and busy yourself with “looking” for your phone case, just so you don’t have to face her.

“Are you okay?”

Her words break through the sound of the bedding as you give it a shake, hoping your case might fall out, but of course it doesn’t. Just like the right answer isn’t coming to you now, not to her question.

Maybe you’re okay, as okay as you can be. Maybe you’re not. Either way, you’re definitely not making her your therapist—not when she’s involved in all this stupid mess. 

“Yeah, sure. Are you?”

“Yeah, the sickness finally went away. I just hope I start to show soon—it’s getting weird at this point.”

You move around the room, checking every corner, stopping only when you spot an edge of your phone case outside on the porch, half-buried in the snow beside the jacuzzi.

“How far along are you?”

“Seventeenth week…we’ll find out the gender soon.” There’s a subtle cheer in her voice that makes your heart soften for a moment.

It must be incredible to be expecting, especially to finally know the baby’s gender and go a bit mad with shopping. You’re sure you’d be the same, and Hara likely will be, too.

You glance her way, offering a small, warm smile before opening the door to the porch. “Got a feeling what it’ll be?”

Hara comes closer to the door as you step outside, staying in the warmth while leaning against the frame. “Yes? No? Maybe?” She laughs. “Some days I swear it’s a boy, and then others I’m convinced it’s a girl. Tomorrow’s the appointment, so…I hope mini-me reveals its gender and isn’t shy.”

You giggle, fishing the icy case out of the snow and brushing off the clinging flakes. As you come back inside, Hara moves aside, settling herself on the edge of the bed while you grab a discarded shirt of Yoongi’s to dry the case off.

“Hey…uh…I don’t quite know how to start this, but…I know you’re not doing alright.”

The glance you throw her way is wary rather than hostile, but still, you don’t want a pep talk from her.

“Please, just talk to each other.”

Biting your lip, you really don’t want to say anything. Yes, you probably should talk to Jungkook, but then again, maybe you shouldn’t. He’s had countless chances to say something, to open up if he had any thoughts at all—and he’s used none of them. Not even when you broke up with him. He stayed silent, like he is now.

Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk, not really, and you’re done waiting and being the one to start things.

“There’s nothing left to talk about. But I appreciate your concern.”

Hara just nods, staring down at the floor, rubbing her hands together between her knees while you pull on your coat and tuck your phone safely into its case.

“It’s a nice case. Did you paint it yourself?”

You glance at your phone, rubbing your thumb over the faded paint that was once so bright. You couldn’t bring yourself to get rid of it after the breakup, even though it reminds you of everything good about your time with Jungkook. Maybe there’s some masochistic streak in you that wants to punish yourself for everything you did and didn’t do. Maybe it’s time to let go of all the memories that keep pulling you back to a time that’s long gone.

“No.” You sigh, tucking it away in your coat pocket with your purse and heading to the door. You pause with your hand on the handle, checking to see if Hara’s following, which she is. She’s right behind you again, and this time, you just let out a startled scream internally, hoping you don’t flinch too visibly.

Opening the door, you let her pass first, just to keep her in your sight this time, but as soon as you’re near the entrance to the main area, she stops, raising a hand. You give her a puzzled look, but she only points to one of her ears, so you lean in, trying to make out what’s being said.

First, you catch the voices of Taehyung and Namjoon, Taehyung’s voice too loud and distinct not to notice. But when you listen a bit harder, you pick up Hope and Jungkook having a different conversation, probably a little further from the others.

“I know! I know you’re a good driver. Just…”

“Just? C’mon, what’s going on with you, C?”

“Just… take care of her, okay?”

“Why wouldn’t I? You’re acting like I’m some boy who’s just got his licence and can’t be trusted—”

The rustling of your coat drowns out the rest of their conversation as you step into the room, deciding not to eavesdrop any longer. You glance around briefly, and of course, Jungkook’s eyes find yours again, but you quickly turn towards Yoongi, resting your hands on his shoulders from behind where he’s still slouched on the one-seater. He wraps his hand around your wrist, his thumb gently brushing over your pulse.

“Why was my case out in the snow?” you murmur into his ear, which earns a lazy laugh from him. He peeks over his shoulder at you, his voice still raspy from his hangover as he murmurs back.

“You thought you could yeet it away and be done with it.”

Your cheeks go warm again; drunk-you is really ridiculous in every possible way. You’re just grateful it was only Namjoon and Yoongi who saw your breakdown, and no one else.

“Right.”

“Stay safe, yeah?”

He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze, and when your eyes meet again, even though his are still glassy from last night’s antics, there’s that quiet care in them only real family can have. 

“I will. Thanks for being there for me, Yoongs.” You press a quick kiss to his head and give him a brief squeeze around his shoulders, only for him to dramatically fake his own demise.

Straightening up, you meet Hope’s eyes, give him a quick nod, and head towards the door. Jungkook moves with the two of you, holding the door open without taking his eyes off you. His gaze is so intense that you can’t keep eye contact, mumbling a quiet, hurried “thanks” and “bye” as you follow Hope to his car.

You wouldn’t have thought Hope would drive a brand-new car, especially a vibrant red one. You wonder if an equipment rental shop really makes that much of a profit or if everyone in this town is just batshit rich. At least you’ll be safe—much safer than you’d be with Tony.

“So, how long’s the drive?” you ask, taking in the car’s interior while buckling up in the passenger seat. You notice the soft leather under your bum and the chrome trim around the touchscreen on the console.

“Maybe twenty or thirty minutes, depends on whether the roads are clear or still covered in snow.”

You hum in acknowledgment, tucking your hands under your thighs—not only because they’re still cold from the short walk outside, but also to avoid the urge to touch anything and risk breaking something you’d never be able to replace.

The car’s rolling down the steep hill you came from a few days ago in no time, and Hope’s both hands are steady on the wheel, which helps you relax in your seat. He’s definitely a good driver, like Yoongi, Jungkook, or your dad—the kind you can actually relax around without fearing for your life.

“So…would you be a kind soul and tell me what you’re all talking about in that group chat, especially about me?”

Of course you had to ask—why wouldn’t you, now that you’re alone with someone who’s clearly in on the whole scheme?

“Sure, why wouldn’t I?”

“Dunno…maybe because of Namjoon.”

“Oh, I’m not scared of him.” Hope laughs heartily, but his eyes don’t stray from the dark, snow-covered road ahead.

“Sooo…?”

“So, you should just talk to C. That’s what we’re all talking about.”

“Wow, wouldn’t have thought of that.”

“So why’re you asking if that’s not the answer you wanted?”

You fall silent.

“Listen. You and C are both hurting. And the only way forward is for you both to learn how to communicate properly, aka talk to each other.”

“There’s really nothing left to talk about.”

“Why’s that?”

“He’s clearly moved on, no?”

Like, duh.

“Has he now?”

Duh?…

“Yeah, with Hara…and the baby on its way.”

Were you wrong all this time? It can’t be.

“Oh, boy…”

“Don’t ‘oh boy’ me.”

“Why do you think he’s with Hara?”

You’re trying not to show how hard it is to think clearly in your state, but the time it takes you to respond says it all. “It’s obvious.”

“Is it? Because it sounds like you’re seeing things how you want to, not how they actually are.”

“Rude.”

“It’s true.”

“You’re really forward for someone I barely know.”

“We’re not strangers, __.” Hope side-eyes you pointedly, making you scoot a tiny bit deeper into your seat.

“Basically, we are.”

“No, we’re not friends yet, but we’re not strangers either.”

So what does this mean for you and Jungkook? He’s not exactly a friend anymore, but he’s not a stranger either. Or…maybe he is. God, your brain feels like it’s about to explode any minute now.

“People change, Hope. Jungkook’s changed.”

Hope lets a short silence settle between you, his fingers tapping softly against the leather wheel as if he’s thinking about what to say next. Only now do you realise there’s no sound from the engine, and you clock that he’s driving an electric car—even though he lives in the mountains, in the cold.

“Have you?”

You’re half-tempted to just say yes, but is that really true? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ve matured a bit, but not enough to feel like a different person. What you do know for sure is that any growth you might have had stopped the moment you left Jungkook. You’ve been so caught up in trying to heal and be someone you’re not that you haven’t really evolved into the person you could have been.

Anything really—maybe a better person, but somehow still the same you. So, what have you become in the last few years? Are you the same? Or not quite?

“Not sure.”

Hope just nods, not as if he’s simply acknowledging what you said, but as if he already knew your answer. It’s uncanny how much talking to him reminds you of Yoongi, both of them having that same no-bullshit approach.

“Listen, I’m not here to play mediator,” yep, definitely like Yoongi, “nor are the others. You need to talk to him, get things sorted before it’s too late.”

“What if it’s already too late?”

“I don’t think so.”

“You’re so positive.” You whine pathetically. 

“And you’re a chronic pessimist.” He mimics you. 

“I’m just cautious.” You pull your hands from under your thighs and throw them in the air, more to get your point across than anything.

“No, you’re scared of what might never happen.”

Ouch. But he’s not…not right.

“I’m not. I’m doing snowboarding now, aren’t I?”

“So why are we heading to the nearest petrol station if you’re meant to be snowboarding all week?”

You shut your mouth and slide your hands back under your thighs, as if that might help you disappear. Maybe you weren’t as subtle as you thought, and not only Hope but everyone else—including Jungkook—has seen right through you. Is that why Hara wanted to talk to you earlier? Urging you to finally talk to Jungkook?

“Gotcha,” Hope giggles slightly, though when he sees your sad pout, he reaches over to give your knee a quick squeeze before returning his hand to the wheel.

“Alright, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings.” Okay, maybe not exactly like Yoongi. “But from what I’ve seen and heard, you liked snowboarding. And I’d say you probably enjoyed everything else you’ve done before, too.” He glances over at you. “Correct me if I’m wrong.”

You just give a noncommittal shrug.

“You need to trust yourself and your capabilities a bit more. Start having faith in the positive outcomes, not just the negative ones, yeah? You’ll never be able to live without fear if you overthink everything…especially things with Jungkook.”

Your pout deepens, a light sheen of tears coating your lashes, which you tell yourself are just from the hangover crashing down on you now, not from facing the uncomfortable truth of your very persona. 

“I know it’s hard, ___. But sometimes thinking the worst makes it real, even though the outcome could’ve been different if you’d just had a bit more faith.”

“Are you talking about snowboarding or Jungkook?”

“Both.” He giggles again, and you can’t help but join in, sniffing your nose a little.

When just then another small town and the petrol station come into view, you straighten up in your seat, realising you’d been slouching more and more throughout the drive.

Even though you’re not looking forward to stepping outside into the cold, you’re glad for a bit of a cooldown, just to ease your exhaustion.

Hope parks his car right next to the petrol pump, and as soon as he turns it off, you both get out and head to the boot where two big empty canisters are waiting.

“Here, I’ll go to the one right behind this one.” He offers you one of the canisters, and while you take it, you’re still confused.

“I only need one, though.”

He’s already unscrewed his, pumping petrol as he leans to the side to look at you.

“Yeah, this one’s for me.”

You’re still confused, but you start filling your canister anyway.

“Isn’t your car electric?”

“Yeah, but I need emergency petrol for the generator in case there’s an outage and the baby’s coming.”

You freeze. Is Hope…? Oh god, you were so wrong all this time. Relief floods through you, so intense that tears spring to your eyes. Jungkook’s not the baby daddy.

“You’re Hara’s baby daddy?” you squeak.

“Gosh, no!”

And now you think you might throw up, the tears shifting back to the heartbreak of yesterday.

“Areum, my wife, she’s seven months pregnant. You missed her yesterday with your epic escape.”

“Oh. Uh, congratulations.”

But you only hear a snort from behind the pump.

Not wanting to fill the canister completely, you settle on half, afraid you might not have enough left in your bank account. You’re not exactly broke, but you’re worried your employer hasn’t transferred your pay on time. Again.

“I’m off to pay,” you mumble as you pass Hope and head into the small, warm station, where a young teenager plagued with acne stands behind the counter, his eyes barely lifting from his phone throughout your whole exchange.

“Your card’s declined, miss.”

The remaining colour drains from your face at his words. This really can’t be happening.

“Could you…could you try again, please?”

The teenager just rolls his eyes, and if you weren’t so mortified, you’d probably give him some shit for being so rude. But again, the familiar sound of your card being declined fills the little station, and when he hands your card back, you just mumble, “Just a second, please,” before stepping to the far corner by the cooling systems and getting your phone out.

And sure enough, your banking app shows you’re completely drained. Fuck. So there’s only one option left, then.

“Pick up, pick up, pick up.”

“Yo,” Yoongi grumbles, and you’re pretty sure you can hear Jungkook’s panicked voice in the background, asking what’s happened.

“I need your help,” you whisper, glancing over at the teenager to check if he can hear, but he’s already engrossed in his phone again.

“What do you need?”

“I’m short on cash. I can’t pay—”

“Why?”

Yoongi’s tone isn’t accusatory in the slightest, just genuinely surprised. Hope comes into the station now too, cocking a brow at you, which you try to ease with a shaky smile.

“My employer’s late with my pay. Again. And the trip and, uh…it all just…”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi says, flat, almost monotone, but you know he feels awful now, realising you’re actually struggling, not just joking around. It’s not his fault though; you never talk about money, and maybe he’s apologising not just because he let you pay for everything, but because you haven’t had these conversations before.

“S’alright. Can you just transfer some money quickly so I can—”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

You hear him sigh—one that says, Don’t make this a thing now. Hope’s already paid for his, waiting by the door with his hands in his pockets, scanning some nearby magazines.

Knowing not to waste any more time, you hang up, open your banking app again, and refresh it every few seconds until there it is: a transfer of ten fucking thousand dollars from Yoongi, with the note, Should’ve told me sooner.

You make a mental note to give him a piece of your mind regarding the sum later as you pay for the petrol, and dash out of the station, dragging Hope with you to escape the embarrassment as soon as possible. 

“Slow down, will you?”

You let go of his arm once you’re by his car, rubbing your hands over your face in frustration as you mumble, “Sorry. God, I’m such a mess.”

“Come on, we’ll talk in the car. I just wanna get home.”

And you do, silently, closing your eyes as the car winds through the woods back the way you came.

You know Hope doesn’t want to pressure you, but you want to talk about it, just because bottling it up any longer would fry your brain.

“My employer still hasn’t transferred my pay,” you mumble. “I had to call Yoongi to borrow money.”

Hope lets out a long breath through his nose, shaking his head slowly as he listens.

“Again, as in this isn’t the first time?”

“Yeah, as in he owes me several thousand dollars by now.”

“Thousands?”

You tap your knuckle against the window, doing a quick mental tally of how much has piled up since you started working for this guy. “About fifty. Maybe a bit more.”

“No. Fucking. Way.” Hope glances over at you with each word, then back to the road. “___, that’s insane. Fifty thousand?! Why haven’t you sued him? Or quit?”

“I…” Yeah, good question. “I actually don’t know.”

It’s not like it’s a brilliant job worth hanging on to, but working from home has its perks, and finding another role in your field? That’s practically impossible without connections, which you definitely don’t have, seeing as you work from home and have done for years.

“You’re an accountant, yeah?”

“How do you know?” you ask, stopping your gentle tapping against the window to look over at his profile. 

“Oh, who d’you think told me?” He gives you a side-eye, looking slightly annoyed, and you just nod. “Areum’s an accountant too. She works for PwC, all remote. They’re looking for someone to cover her on maternity leave, and she gets to pick who fills in for her, soooo…”

“Sooo…?”

“Woman, I’m not spelling it out for you. You’re not that thick.”

Ouch. “Hey! Stop being so rude to me.”

“Then stop acting daft when you’re not.”

God, you want to strangle him. No wonder he gets along so well with Yoongi. You thought he was just this little ray of sunshine with that stupid bright laugh, but he’s feisty as hell.

“I’ll think about it,” you mumble, knowing decisions like this aren’t made right now, especially as the painkillers wear off and your mind’s about to shut down along with your eyelids.

Eventually, sleep takes over, and if you’re honest, you don’t bother fighting it.

“___, wake up.” Hope’s voice and the gentle push of his hand against your shoulder rouse you not long after. And even though sleeping, even just a bit, should have done you some good, you feel worse after a fifteen-minute nap.

Reluctantly, you straighten in your seat, trying to wake up properly, and smack your lips to get the awful taste off your tongue, but it’s no use. You’ll need to brush your teeth as soon as you’re in the suite—there’s no way around it.

“Thanks for driving me,” you rasp, glancing out of the windscreen to see Jungkook hopping from one foot to the other in the cold, his breath rising in small clouds in front of him. “What’s he doing outside?”

“He’s waiting for you.”

“Oh.”

It’s a mystery why Jungkook would do that, seeing as you’re clearly not on good terms. You’ve been trading jabs and whatnot with every interaction, so the fact that he’s not fed up by now is really baffling.

“I’m heading straight home if that’s okay.”

“Oh. Sure, yes, of course, sorry.” You unbuckle your seatbelt, knowing you shouldn’t overstay your welcome, especially as Hope is snickering again. “Thanks again and goodnight.”

“Goodnight. And…talk to him.”

Well, you don’t really have a choice now. Especially when, after closing the passenger door, you walk to the boot to get your half-empty canister, only to find Jungkook already beside you.

“Here, let me help.”

He doesn’t meet your eyes this time, which feels strange after he spent all afternoon staring at you.

“I’ve got this.”

You heft the canister out of the boot and start walking straight to Tony to fill him up, letting the canister rest by your legs, you wave Hope off as he drives away, then clear the side of Tony of snow.

“What are you doing?” Jungkook stands beside you, arms crossed, chest puffed out. He looks intimidating—hotly so—but you’re still pissed and very much not in the mood for a chat.

“What does it look like?”

He just shrugs with a smirk, and as you finish clearing the snow, you realise you’ve done the wrong side of Tony. 

How embarrassing.

“Don’t say anything.”

And he doesn’t, aside from a quiet snicker as he follows you to the other side, where you finally start clearing the right bit of snow. This time, you find the cap and pull out your car keys to open it.

Ignoring your wishes, Jungkook picks up the canister and starts pouring the petrol into the car, biting his lip piercings again.

“Talk,” you snap, wanting to get this over with—whatever it is that’s bothering him so much he’s biting his lip bloody.

Jungkook glances briefly at you, and while you’ve seen that sad expression on him countless times, it still stings.

“Why did you leave?”

You sigh, glance towards the hostel, and look back at him. “When? When I broke up with you? On the slope yesterday? From the party? Or to the petrol station?”

Alright, it sounded cooler in your head, but you’re now realising you might have a bit of a tendency to run off. Oops.

“All of them, I guess.” He muses, shutting the cap and screwing the canister lid back on as he turns to you fully.

“Jungkook, that’s a conversation I’m not having with you right now.”

“And when would be the best time for it?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe not outside, not in the middle of the night, not when I’m batshit hungover, and especially not when you’ve built a new life for yourself.”

That last bit wasn’t really what you wanted to say, but it slipped out anyway, the perfect proof that it’s indeed not the best time. 

“That’s not fair.”

“It’s not fair for you to treat me like this, Jungkook. I’m not doing this anymore.”

You turn while watching him run a hand through his hair, then stomp through the deep snow towards the hostel to stop yourself freezing out here.

“Stop running away!”

“I’m not running away. I’m going to bed. You should too.”

Jungkook catches the door at the last second and steps into Dionysus right behind you.

“You are running away.”

You turn to face him sharply, causing him to nearly bulldoze into you, but he catches himself in time, stepping back a bit with his hands on his hips, still clutching the canister in his reddened hand.

“Why did you need petrol for Tony, who’s been out of it for days? Why now?”

You purse your lips, mirroring his stance instinctively, staring each other down. You’re stubborn, but so is he, and you’re not backing down. He wants to start a fight? See who breaks first? See if you’re really running away from him? Well, you’ll prove him wrong.

“Safety. Caution. Responsibility. Take your pick.”

There’s a familiar glint in his eyes—the one that says he knows you’re bullshitting him. God, you’ve missed this. Missed him.

“So, not fleeing the scene, hm?”

“Not fleeing the scene.”

And you’re not. Change of plans: you’re staying. You’ll stay, and you’ll whoop his ass by becoming the best snowboarder on the planet.

Jungkook just nods, and you nod back.

Usually, this would be the moment he’d tackle you and fuck the truth out of you in no time. And though you can vividly picture it, you need to keep your distance. So before the tension builds too much, before Jungkook becomes too much, you stop nodding and let your arms drop to your sides.

“Goodnight, Jungkook.”

He mirrors your stance, and though his eyes dim with that usual sadness, you refuse to see it as longing. Because why would he?

“Goodnight, ___.”

You nod, and while you can’t quite tear yourself away from his gaze, you eventually turn and head up to your suite, finding Yoongi already silently and fast asleep, you can’t help but to leave a tiny gap in the door, just enough to watch as Jungkook disappears into his own room.

Day 5

You feel good.

No, scratch that—you feel absolutely pumped, energised, and oh-so-ready for the day. There’s a wild fire blazing through your veins, just waiting to be unleashed, and you’re absolutely down for it.

Sitting alone in the dining room after that little talk with Yoongi about the sum he transferred to your bank account, only to be met with an eye roll in response, you’re busy preparing the most protein-packed breakfast Namjoon’s buffet has on offer. You’ll definitely need it—not just because your body’s craving nutrients, but because your brain needs to be at its best so you can finally beat Jungkook at his own game.

No, not with his petty remarks and actions, but by getting your answers with carefully placed, strategically even, questions so he doesn’t even realise you’re grilling him. You’re brilliant, so of course you can pull this off. The sulky victim era of ___ is over—here comes the new, improved you.

Though, if you’re honest, you know there’s a pretty decent chance that Jungkook might catch on to your plan. He’s always been good at that, always been just as brilliant as you. But his competitive side usually has you beat by the end of the day. But not today. Today, you’re determined to win.

Especially when the man himself strolls in, looking sinfully good. His hair’s damp, falling messily over his forehead and eyes, while his thin white shirt hangs loosely off his shoulders, clinging slightly to his skin where he didn’t dry off properly.

“Morning, Kook,” you chirp, practically singing it, intentionally calling him by the nickname you lovingly gave him all those years ago.

Jungkook slows his steps, one eyebrow raised and lips pursed. The confusion’s painted all across his face exactly as you’d hoped. Excellent.

“Morning.” He stops at your table, glancing at the empty chairs next to you and opposite you, and when he takes the one right beside you, you’re doing a little celebratory dance on the inside.

“Did you sleep well, Kook?” He eyes you as he gets his plate ready, and while he answers, you take a small bite of your food, your overly cheerful grin firmly in place.

“Uh, yeah, did you?”

“Of course! Snuggly kept me company all night.”

The confusion in Jungkook’s eyes deepens, and you’d give anything to know what’s running through his head right now. You keep your face just as innocent and cheerful as possible, though it’s getting harder by the second.

“So, what’ve you been up to these past five months?” If your math’s right, Hara’s now a little over four months along. So, if Jungkook was around back then, you’ve got your answer.

“Five months?” He raises an eyebrow again, biting into the sandwich he’s just thrown together. There’s far more ham than bread—probably more to keep his hands clean than for actual taste.

“Yeah, where’ve you all been, then?”

“Uh,” Jungkook chews, blinking at you. You can practically see the gears turning in his head as he tries to figure you out. “I’ve been to Bangkok, Hawaii, and, uh… before that, I was here for a few months.”

No. Fucking. Way. So all those mixed signals, not only from Jungkook but all his friends too, weren’t so mixed after all.

“This town’s pretty small. Is there anything exciting to do off-season?”

“Well, Hara had a huge birthday celebration. So there was that.”

“Hara’s birthday’s in August?”

“Yeah, why?”

So he gave her a baby for her birthday. How pathetic it makes you feel, realising you’ve been too busy being still his to fall for someone new all this time. But you don’t let the heartbreak show this time. You swallow it down because shutting down won’t help you now.

“Just asking.”

Jungkook just nods again, still contemplating your words, trying to read your motives like he always does, though you’re as blank as can be beneath your smile. It’s not that you’ve lost your determination to get through snowboarding—no, you’re way too competitive and stubborn to back down now. Still, you kind of wish you were as drunk as you’d been two days ago.

The upside of being fully sober again is that you feel fantastic. Physically, anyway. The downside is that your brain won’t shut up.

You vividly remember the night you ended things, the exhaustion, the desperation in your every word as you tried to explain yourself to him. It wasn’t that you didn’t love him; you did and you still do, maybe even more than you should. But back then, you’d grown tired of always feeling like you weren’t enough, of feeling like you were someone he didn’t really need.

You’d always been the one to soothe your doubts on your own, to make excuses for him and his choices, to tell yourself it was just a phase, that he’d eventually grow out of it—that he’d grow out of it for you. Not that he’d never do anything risky again, but just enough for him to see that some things are too dangerous to try.

Losing him was completely your fault, you know that, and even though he’s going to be a dad—even if it’s not your child—you’d crawl back to him in a heartbeat if there were any chance. Not that you’d ever be a homewrecker; that’s something you’d never do, and you’ll respect any relationship on earth as it is. But if he’s only going to be a father, if he’s only co-parenting with Hara and they’re not together, you’d try to make it work somehow.

Or maybe you’re just delusional, thinking you’d be okay with him having a kid that’s not yours. Because deep down, the thought of him being with someone else after you—even if you weren’t together anymore—makes you want to throw up. Not just because picturing it is one of your worst nightmares, but because all the love declarations he made, and will probably make again in that scenario, would be empty in their truest form. At least in your eyes. 

There’s nothing you can do about it; it’s not like you’re some grandma who thinks virginity before marriage is a must. But if he was with you and says he’d want to be with you again, there’s no chance if he had someone else in between.

Jungkook sniffs beside you, and you’re not exactly proud that, since learning he’s staying here at the hostel too, you’ve kept spare napkins nearby, just like the good old days, and you’re not proud as you hand him one with a small smile, still chewing, knowing his rhinitis is worst in the morning.

“Thanks,” he’s smiling, though there’s still that look of doubt in his eyes, as if he’s still trying to work out what you’re up to. “So, how about you?”

You’ve half a mind to exaggerate again, but you know you’ll need to save your energy today, especially since you’re spending the whole day with Jungkook. So you stick to the truth. “Nothing really. Mostly work, and a few activities I’ve tried.”

“It’s weird.”

“What is?”

“You doing all that stuff.”

Jungkook doesn’t look as accusatory as he did the first day; this time, he actually looks…sad.

“Didn’t you want me that way?” You keep your tone light, friendly even, but deep down, that old pettiness rises to the surface.

“No.” The word slips from his lips without a moment’s hesitation, his sad eyes fixed on yours, and suddenly, you can’t breathe. It just doesn’t make sense.

“I…why?”

He slowly swallows his last bite and reaches for his coffee, just to toy with the rim of the mug. Then he lifts his gaze to meet yours, boring into your irises as if to tell you more than he’s actually saying. “That’s not you.”

You just stare at him, trying to understand why he’d want you to change all those years ago, only to now tell you, indirectly, he doesn’t like the person he’d pushed you to become. No words form in your brain, again too overwhelmed by it all, so you just nod, because quite honestly, he’s right. It’s not who you are, even if some of the less riskier activities, like snowboarding, turned out to be more fun than you’d expected.

Jungkook doesn’t seem to handle the silence well as you quietly finish your meal, as his leg starts bouncing under the table again, occasionally brushing against yours. You’re sure he doesn’t even notice it, but you do and while you think about shifting your leg slightly away, that faint touch of his somehow soothes the intense longing you have for him.

How many times you’ve thought about calling him, only to remind yourself he was the one who let you go without a word, is beyond counting now. Trying to count would be like trying to reach infinity without breaking down as the despair catches up to you and you simply can’t do either. 

You need, with all your might, to pull your mind out of this endless void and focus on the good. You’re able to have a normal conversation with Jungkook. He’s fine. You’re fine. And if you can make it through these next two weeks, you tell yourself that you’ll be fine too, even if it’s without him. Because that countdown in your head has shifted—from thinking you’ve got time to work things out, to savouring these last moments with him as much as possible, hoping to make memories you can hold onto as fondly as the ones you made all those years ago.

“So, today’s blue slope day?”

Jungkook nods with a smirk, eyes still on his cup, clearly lost in thought. “Yeah. You ready?”

“Sure. I was born ready.”

The snort that escapes him mirrors your own, letting the sadness fade into that playful light in his eyes you’ve always adored when he finally looks back up to you. 

“Then let’s head out, shall we?”

“Yes, sir!” You salute playfully, downing the rest of your or rather his iced Americano—sneakily poured into a regular mug—in one go and standing as soon as Jungkook does.

It doesn’t take long for you both to get fully geared up and leave the hostel, Jungkook closing the usual distance between you by walking much closer than he has on any of the previous days, though you welcome it this time. 

“Give me your board.” Jungkook stretches out his free hand towards you when you’re just a few feet away from Dionysos.

“I can handle it.”

“I know you can. But you don’t have to.”

Wondering whether you’re about to be stubborn again, you decide to let him help you. It’s a nice gesture, and knowing his strength—which has clearly grown over the last few years—it’s no bother for him to carry your snowboard too. So you hand it to him, mumbling a small, grateful “thanks” and fall into step with him, the rustling of your gear and the dull thud of your boots the only sounds breaking the otherwise silent streets.

“It’s such a lovely day.” You marvel at the first rays of sunlight shining down, making the snow-covered streets steam ever so slightly, looking straight out of a fantasy.

The town’s not fully awake yet; a few people are setting up their displays outside, greeting you both with warm smiles and friendly faces. It’s easy being here, so welcoming when you ignore the chaos that’s crashed down on you since you arrived.

You’d like to imagine living here, spending the rest of your life in this place with Jungkook, befriending his friends too, all in some alternate universe. You daydream about a winter wedding, teaching your kids how to build a snowman, and everything else.

It would be nice, it would be perfect. Because in that universe, you’d still be with Jungkook, and you’d be not only happy but fulfilled.

“It is, the slopes should be perfect too.”

A small group of kindergarteners crosses your path just before the slopes, and as your gaze drifts from them to the shop windows behind, you catch the reflection of you and Jungkook side by side. He’s looking at the kids, full of adoration, with that same endearing smile you fell in love with all those years ago.

His hair’s just as shiny and healthy, his eyes sparkling in that familiar way. You’ve always known how much Jungkook wants a family—he always has, just as you always did. It’s one of the reasons you connected so quickly. His values and hopes for the future aligned so perfectly with yours that falling for him and picturing a life together was almost inevitable.

You knew back then that having different hobbies wasn’t the most important thing in a relationship, that differences in those areas wouldn’t decide its downfall. But somehow, you both let those differences take centre stage.

It wasn’t just poor communication that damaged things; you lost sight of what truly mattered, letting the good become tainted with doubt, trust begin to crack, and your hearts bleed in ways they never should have.

Standing there now, side by side, you realise that everything that happened, the way you both handled things, was so unnecessarily foolish. You wish you’d made different choices. You look perfect together, like one of those couples you see and just know they’re meant to be, like they’re soulmates, like they’re fated.

Jungkook’s eyes lift up, catching yours in the window, and his smile grows just a bit wider. There’s still that adoration there—or is it just nostalgia? Or maybe it’s the inner peace he feels, knowing he’ll soon have a child of his own? You’re not sure, and you’re afraid to let yourself think too deeply about it. Because, honestly, if it’s anything but adoration, you’d spiral so much, so irrevocably, that you might just break all over again.

Switching your board to his other hand, where he’s already holding his own, he lifts his now free arm and wraps it over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. Your head doesn’t even reach his eyes, and your shoulder aligns perfectly with his arm, like you’re a puzzle piece fitting into him. You can’t help the broad smile that breaks over your face when he says, “I’m glad you’re here.”

You turn away from the window, tilting your head up to look into his beautiful brown eyes, taking in this small, pure moment that you’ll lock away in the deepest parts of your heart and cherish for the rest of your life. “Me too.”

Simple moments like these with Jungkook have always been so beautiful. It’s always been like this, just the two of you in a bubble where nothing else matters. The ache in your heart should ease in moments like this, but instead, it grows, the longing building until it’s nearly unbearable.

How perfect it would feel to kiss him now, how your heart and soul would sing if he kissed you back. The realisation—the overwhelming certainty—that he truly was the one for you hits you like an avalanche, burying you so deeply you’ll never find a way out.

Still, you turn your face away, and he lets you go.

“Let’s get it.” Jungkook cheers, and you echo his words, because you don’t know what else to say, walking side by side to the lift. Thankfully, this time without any annoying interruptions from his fangirls.

The first ride up in the ski gondola is equal parts terrifying and beautiful. The trees below look like miniature toys, and the mountain peaks seem too stunning to be real, like a picture painted by an artist. The gondola is empty except for the two of you, Jungkook sitting across from you, both of you gazing outside. But every now and then, you can’t help glancing at his reflection.

Jungkook talks the entire way up, going over everything you should know about snowboarding by now. His calm voice, his solid presence right in front of you, and his patient review of the basics settle the last of your nerves, along with Hope’s words, still ringing loudly in your mind.

Fear is faith in the negative.

And you don’t want to live like that again—not now, and not when it’s just snowboarding. You trust your own abilities, and you trust Jungkook to keep you safe, like he always has. Well, aside from that one camping incident—but you’ll turn a blind eye to that for now. You have to, because one lapse in his judgement all those years ago shouldn’t undo everything else he’s proven to you.

The morning is spent making descent after descent, each one becoming easier and more fun, especially with Jungkook staying close. You manage to fall less and less, and when you do, he’s always right there, reaching out to help you back on your feet.

And while you’re laughing and joking like old times, it feels as if no time has passed at all.

Just before lunch, you both find yourselves back at the gondola, though this time it’s a different one.

“There’s this restaurant way up there.” Jungkook points into the distance, and you squint, trying to follow his finger, but the sun is too bright to make out exactly where he’s pointing. “The food’s amazing, and we’ll be able to take a way longer run down. It’ll build your stamina and get you ready for the harder slopes tomorrow.”

“Sounds good.” You smile at him, excited not only for the food but also for the chance to push yourself a bit more.

When you step into the gondola with a few others, it’s so packed that you have to squeeze in beside Jungkook, pressing against his side. With his broad shoulders and your thick coat, there’s not much room and after a few minutes, Jungkook shifts and lifts his arm, draping it over your shoulder to give you both a bit more space.

You frown. Even though it’s more comfortable this way, you don’t like it at all. If he’s with Hara, this is crossing boundaries left and right. You know that if you were still together and he did this with another woman, it’d be a dealbreaker.

The gesture sours your mood instantly, letting your thoughts spiral in a way that has you dangerously close to snapping at him. But you hold back. You won’t start a scene now, not here; you’ll wait until you’re at the restaurant and talk things through.

When you reach the top and leave the gondola, heading toward the small restaurant by the lift, Jungkook keeps his hand resting lightly on your back.

It’s ironic, really. You left because you wanted him to find happiness, to be with someone who wouldn’t bring conflict, someone he wouldn’t feel the need to change. And here he is, supposedly happy, yet acting like you’re still his, clinging to old habits like they’re the only things he has left with you. 

Maybe that’s the saddest part of all. He’s got everything he once told you he wanted, yet he’s still holding onto pieces of the past, unable to let them go. And maybe he’ll never fully move on, just like you haven’t, even if he thinks he has. But that’s not something you can fix. You tried—more than once—to help him keep his distance, to let go of whatever still kept him wounded. Even if it wasn’t the perfect approach, pretending to be with Yoongi, you thought it might help him move on. But he has to handle that himself now; you’re done being the one to guide him there.

You deserve peace, too. You deserve to be able to look back on your time together without feeling unresolved tension. If that means keeping your distance, letting him live his life with Hara without stepping in, then so be it. You’re done making excuses for him, done justifying his behaviour to yourself. He’s made his choices, back then and now too, and now it’s time for you to make yours.

You take a deep breath, letting it all settle within you as you step into the restaurant. The hurt, the sadness, the longing—sure, it’s all still there, and maybe it always will be. But now, it’s just that: memories. Moments you once cherished, now filed away in a part of your heart that no longer needs to cling so tightly. Or at least, that’s what you hope.

As you sit down across from him, letting go bit by bit, you realise that maybe this is what closure should feel like. Hurtful, and not freeing at all. 

“You’re kinda touchy.” 

Jungkook looks up from his menu, running the tip of his tongue over his lip piercing. “I always am.”

Your lips press into a firm line, shoulders tensing even more. Jungkook’s eyes dart over you, and he realises too late that your mood has shifted. As he catches on, his nervous habits start to surface in an instant. He fumbles with his menu, his leg bouncing so hard that the tablecloth shifts slightly with each movement.

“Doesn’t it feel wrong to you?” You ask, your tone so accusatory it even startles you.

Jungkook gulps, actually gulps, and you feel the urge to laugh or maybe storm off altogether.

“No?” He sounds uncertain, though there’s a strange conviction in his voice, even with his nerves. “Does it bother you?”

“Yes.”

You stare each other down, Jungkook nodding but tilting his head slightly, eyebrows drawn. “Is it because of Yoongi?”

Should you come clean and tell him you’re not dating Yoongi, that he’s just your cousin? But you can’t see the point. It wouldn’t change anything now, you’re sure of that. Though you’re not sure if the snort and shake of your head is more because of how absurd it all is, or if it’s meant to answer his question. Either way, it fits. And as Jungkook exhales sharply through his nose, his jaw clenching in a steady rhythm, you don’t say anything more.

The tension between you feels like it’s growing and the silence between you both is almost suffocating you. You try to distract yourself by looking at the scenery outside the window, but it’s no use.

“I never wanted to do all those things,” you mumble, as if you can somehow lift a bit of the weight off your chest. “But I felt so…so unworthy…so empty. I needed to do it, even if I hated most of it.”

The waiter sets down your plates and drinks, wishing you a pleasant meal. Still, you don’t look up at Jungkook, maybe out of embarrassment, maybe because you just can’t. Instead, you stare at your food, forcing yourself to eat, even if it’s only a little.

“You shouldn’t have.” His voice is gentle, and you feel his gaze burning onto your face, though you try to ignore it. “Not for someone else, at least.”

Is he talking about himself? Or does he think you did it all for Yoongi? Either way, he’s right, though those words would have made more difference if he’d said them years ago.

“Maybe you’re right.”

It’s unusual to see Jungkook eating so slowly, and it’s not like you to keep so quiet, either. It’s not that you can’t handle silence, but sharing a meal like this without any connection feels so pointless.

“Was it easy?” Jungkook eventually asks, and your eyes involuntarily snap up to him.

“What was?”

“Moving on so fast…”

Sometimes, looking at Jungkook like you do now, you marvel at how much he’s matured. His features have lost that softness, his smooth skin now showing faint lines from laughter and time you weren’t there to share.

You’d always imagined growing old with him, and even though it hasn’t been that long, your heart aches for all the time lost.

The faint, bluish shadows under his eyes, something he didn’t even have during his finals, make him look not just tired, but drained off life. You can only hope it’s not because of you.

“I never did, so I can’t say.”

You both go back to eating, letting silence settle again as you try to process it all. Maybe you need a whiteboard, or even a list, something to help you make sense of it all, thinking you’ll definitely do that later, once you’re back at the hostel tonight. 

More than half your plate is still full, but you can’t seem to eat any more. As you set your cutlery down and tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear, you notice Jungkook’s already finished his meal.

“You should eat more.”

“I’m full. I’ll just take it to go.”

And after Jungkook sighs and nods, you do just that, quickly insisting you’ll pay for your own meal, refusing to let him cover it for you.

Finally back outside, the sky has shifted, like your mood, from sunny and clear to dark, with low-hanging, heavy clouds.

“That’s odd,” Jungkook mutters, fishing his phone out and typing quickly. “Forecast didn’t mention a downpour.”

“What should we do?” Your nerves flare, body tingling and palms starting to sweat as that familiar panic creeps in, the kind that takes over any time things veer off-plan.

Jungkook’s eyes dart over his screen, only adding to your unease.

“Shit,” he curses under his breath and puts his phone away. “So, uh, there’s a thunder cell that’s come up out of nowhere, and there’s a warning for a severe snowstorm. But it’s all good. We still have time.”

Just then, the first big snowflakes start falling from the clouds, and the wind picks up. As you look up at the sky, your voice trembles, “Jungkook?”

“Alright, okay, maybe we don’t have as much time as I thought. We’re going to head down this way quickly, but safely.” He points toward a fork in the path where you can see a sign with a blue dot in one direction and a black one in the other—the black meaning it’s the most difficult and dangerous run there is.

“Okay.” You don’t sound entirely convinced, partly because, while you believe in your skills, you know that in these weather conditions, even the best skills won’t count for much.

“Strap on your board. We need to go.”

And you follow his instructions because, at this point, there’s no other option. The wind has picked up dramatically by the time you straighten up again, and you have to strain every muscle to stay upright against its force.

You’re terrified, and Jungkook’s focused, hurried pace isn’t doing much to settle your nerves.

“You’re leading, so I can keep my eyes on you.” 

You nod, shifting your weight forward to start descending, but keeping control of the board proves not just difficult, but almost impossible. Your vision blurs with the flurry of snowflakes, even through your goggles, you can barely make out the slope or see the fork ahead.

“To the right!” you hear Jungkook shout from behind, his voice frantic to its core. But as you pick up speed, the wind shoves you beyond the limit of what you can handle, pushing you towards the left, dangerously close to the black run.

“To the right, ___!”

You try, you really do, but you can’t seem to manage it. Like a leaf in a gale, you’re pulled in the direction you don’t want to go, helpless to stop it. Lungs burning with each short breath, you think you scream the moment you realise it’s too late, skidding down the steep, black slope.

You try to brake, just like Jungkook taught you, but your knees are weak, your muscles not trained enough to regain control.

Jungkook rushes up beside you, and even though you’re in full survival mode, his presence brings you a tiny sliver of reassurance, even if it’s just for a while. 

“You’re doing good, keep going!”

And you do, tears streaming down under your scarf. The storm keeps pushing you off course, pulling you again and again in directions you don’t want to go. But Jungkook’s right there, sticking close beside you, trying to block out some of the wind’s blasts and guiding you as best as he can.

It feels like an eternity—fighting against nature, fighting to stay upright, fighting the fear building stronger and stronger in your chest. Somehow, even though you left the marked slope ages ago, heading somewhere unknown and unsure if it’ll lead you to safety, you spot a small, abandoned-looking hut in the distance.

“Try to stop!” Jungkook yells, his voice barely reaching you through the howling wind.

“Now?”

“Now!”

You manage to stop, though clumsily, falling hard onto your bum, every muscle aching so painfully you’re barely able to move. Jungkook ditches his board in seconds, crawling over to help you with yours as the frozen clips stubbornly resist coming loose.

“You good?” He glances briefly at your face, breath visible in short puffs matching yours, his lips chapped and slightly split.

You nod, though you’re still trembling, trying to steady yourself as adrenaline surges through you without much mercy. 

Jungkook gets up with your board in hand, offering his free hand to you in a heartbeat and pulling you up effortlessly. After he picks up his own board, jointing yours, he clasps your hand with his free one and bolts towards the hut, dragging you along with him. 

Thankfully, or rather miraculously, the hut’s indeed abandoned and open. And while Jungkook pushes you inside first, letting the boards clatter onto the wooden floor as he leans against the door, both of you are panting and gasping for air, needing this break more than anything. 

The hut’s not really windproof, small gaps in the wooden walls still letting the cold wind whistle inside.

“Seriously? What the hell were you thinking?!” He rips his helmet off and throws it to the boards on the ground.

You try to straighten yourself, though the ache’s nearly too much. “I… I tried. I… it…”

“You just never listen, do you? I told you to turn right back there, but of course, you went your own way. Always have, always will.”

The storm outside’s picked up even more now, and the cold has seeped into your bones, though you still fold your arms, doing your best to keep your voice steady despite the burn in your lungs. “Oh, please, Jungkook. Don’t act like I’m the only one who doesn’t listen. You’ve got selective hearing when it suits you.”

He lets out a frustrated sigh, running a gloved hand through his sweat-dampened hair. “Selective hearing? I spent years trying to tell you things, but you were always too stubborn to actually listen.”

“Right, yeah, I’m the stubborn one,” you snap right back. “You still can’t even talk to me unless it’s about some bullshit like snowboarding.”

“Oh, as if you’re any better.”

“I am! You didn’t even say one word before I left!” you explode, ripping off your helmet too, followed by your gloves, yeeting them across the hut.

“Oh, fuck off, ___! I wanted to, but clearly, you couldn’t wait to fuck Yoongi as soon as you got rid off me!”

“Yoongi’s my cousin, Jungkook. Family. But I wouldn’t expect you to know that, since you barely know anything about my life anymore.”

Jungkook’s face falls at that, and you can clearly see how his whole world view crumbles in his eyes, leaving nothing behind but a hollow sadness you’ve never seen before. Though you’re sad too, you’re hollow too, and so you continue, “Don’t pin this on me when I never moved on, when you were the one fucking Hara and giving her a baby.”

His unfocused eyes snap to you, lips still parted as he breathes, “I never slept with her. She’s Jin’s wife.”

You feel like you’re falling, falling so hard and fast you can’t stop. The tears that coat your eyes are nothing compared to the agonising realisation ripping you open. All those years, even all this hurt you’ve been experiencing these last few days, were unfounded.

If you weren’t this close to Jungkook, you’d think his red nose was just from the cold, but the silver lining his eyes carry shows just how broken you both are, what you did to yourselves without even realising it in the first place. 

“You moved on,” you press out, fighting the sob that threatens to spill.

“I haven’t.”

How foolish all the assumptions were, how foolish of him to assume just as much. How utterly foolish that you both lost the ability to talk to each other long before your relationship ended.

But maybe it had to come to this for you to learn what it’s like to be separated, to learn how to communicate… but have you really? You reckon you haven’t, not given how things went down. Maybe it’s too late, just as Hope warned you, though a small, fragile part in you clings to the delusion that things might still turn out right.

“Let’s… let’s call for help.” You turn, unable to keep looking at Jungkook, and you’re sure he needs time to process the bomb that’s just dropped.

“Yeah,” he’s taking out his phone again, though the breath he lets out is nothing short of concerning. “My phone’s dead. How about yours?”

By now you’ve sat down on the small, bare bed, as standing any longer would have had you fainting by this point. While you rummage through your inner coat pocket to pull out your old beaten-up phone, Jungkook stomps over with his snow-covered boots and sits down beside you, leaving enough space between you that it feels like miles.

Lighting up the screen, you see your phone’s battery miraculously still well over 90%, but there’s absolutely no signal. “Nope, no signal. We’re stranded.”

Just as you’re about to put your phone back, Jungkook stops you with his voice. “You still got the case?”

You pause, looking over at him, only to meet hopeful eyes you can’t quite place.

“Uh, yeah. You clearly got rid of yours though.”

You hate sounding so bitter, but it is what it is. Years of feeling the way you did can’t be undone with one revelation.

“I lost it… my phone, too, when I was in the Caribbean shortly after we…”

You hum and nod because what else is there to do?

“Why did you keep it?”

Your eyes stray from your phone, where you’re running your thumb over one of Jungkook’s doodles on the case like it always does, to him, though he’s not looking at you this time, just fiddling with his gloves in his lap.

“I can’t get rid of memories. You should know that.”

“Even if they’re bad?” He turns his head to you, though his eyes are fixed on your phone. The way he’s slouching is so unlike him, and it hurts to see what you’ve done to him.

“They aren’t bad.”

Jungkook nods a few times, as if he’s trying to cement your words in his mind, rewriting everything he thought was real but never was.

Eventually, Jungkook stands up and walks over to a small closet, pulling open the doors to see what’s inside.

“No way.” He breathes out a laugh, and you crane your neck to look past his broad shoulders, though it’s no use.

When he turns, arms full of vacuum bags stuffed with blankets and pillows, you feel like you might scream in delight. Especially when Jungkook rips them open beside you and a waft of freshly washed fabric hits you.

“That’s like hitting the jackpot.” You look up at him, your grin as wide as his as he just laughs. “Can you light the fireplace too?”

Jungkook furrows his brows as he looks around the hut, likely because he hadn’t spotted it until now. But as soon as he clocks it, along with the stack of dried wood beside it, he’s off in a flash, inspecting the chimney and everything else.

Meanwhile, you gather all the bedding and spread it out on the bed, purposefully ignoring the fact that there’s only this one bed in the hut and not even a couch. It shouldn’t be a big deal—you’ve done more than sleep in the same bed as Jungkook before, and you’re both clearly single, so there’s nothing your conscience can protest about.

Still, time has passed, and you’ve clearly drifted apart more than you would’ve liked. It’s an unusual situation you’re in, an emergency really, and you’ll have to adjust to it without reading too much into it.

“Got a lighter on you?”

You pull it out of your pocket, leaving Yoongi’s cigarettes in your pocket that you nicked this morning alongside before leaving, and toss the lighter his way which he catches effortlessly with one hand, lighting up the kindling he’s set, framed by a few larger sticks of wood.

Jungkook watches the fire intently, and soon enough the hut’s heating up, allowing you to take off your coat. Not wanting to keep your boots on any longer—by now, they’ve cut off all circulation in your feet—you pull them off as well, then crawl onto the bed, settling against the headboard under the layers of blankets.

You’re absolutely knackered at this point, and as you check the time on your phone, you realise it’s already past dinnertime.

“You can join me, you know?” you smile as Jungkook turns around, muttering an “okay” and starting to peel off his gear too, though you don’t miss the flush creeping up to his ears.

How endearing he can still be.

The bed’s clearly not meant for two—especially not when Jungkook’s become this buff. He’d probably struggle to fit on his own, let alone with someone else. And though you’re fairly petite next to him, you’re both squished together, personal space nonexistent. Still, it’s better than freezing to death outside.

“I’m so tired,” you yawn.

“I’m so hungry.”

The pout on Jungkook’s face makes you giggle; it’s just so him. Without thinking, you lean over him to fetch the food from your coat. Only when you settle back beside him do you notice how stiff he’s gone.

You don’t comment on it, just hand him the leftovers, which he reluctantly takes, though this time he doesn’t engulf your hands like he did yesterday. Not that you’d admit it, but you’re a bit sad he didn’t do it again.

“You hungry too? It’s your food.”

“I’m good, Jungkook, please just eat.”

You’re starting to read him again, just a bit less hazy than it was the last few days. So before he can start arguing with you, those sad boba eyes pleading for you to eat when you’re genuinely not hungry, you lay your hand over his arm, giving it a light squeeze. “I’m not hungry, promise.”

With that, Jungkook starts to eat and you lean back, slumping more into the blankets as he eats in silence, your eyes growing heavy with each passing minute. 

“You can sleep if you want.” Jungkook gently pulls the blanket higher over your shoulder as you lie down fully, your head nearly resting against his hip.

“I’m still cold,” you mumble sleepily, though there’s no chance you’ll really fall asleep while you’re still shivering like this. The storm’s really taken it out of you.

Jungkook shifts, and when you open your eyes, you realise he’s finished eating and is lying down facing you. “Turn around.”

Lying beside him like this, faces just inches apart, is something you never thought would happen again. And while it’s hard to look away from him—the slope of his nose, the Cupid’s bow of his lips making them almost too inviting—you fight against the blankets draped over you both and turn around. Jungkook slips an arm around your waist without much care, pulling you fully against him until there’s no space left between you.

Heart racing like a hummingbird’s wings, you try to relax into his hold, but the thin layer of fabric separating you makes it feel as though you’re bare. You’d seen the contours of his body when he stripped off his gear, the black thermal shirt and pants clinging to his muscles like a second skin, leaving nothing to the imagination. But feeling his solid body against yours like this, after so long, leaves your head spinning in circles you can’t seem to stop.

You haven’t noticed how your hips press back against his crotch, haven’t noticed the way your body instinctively moves against his until Jungkook’s breath hits your ear.

“Sorry,” you breathe, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to stop. His large hand, which had been resting on the mattress beside you, slides up along your stomach, stopping just before cupping your breast from below, and you know you’ve stepped through a door that should’ve been left closed.

Heat rises within you, making you shiver with something far more pleasant than the cold. You need more of him, more of his touch, and your hand slips from beneath the blankets, reaching back to tangle in the hair at the back of his head, willing yourself to just feel and nothing more. 

His quick breaths ghost across the part of your neck that’s bare, just enough to spark more want not only in your heart but your cunt too. You tug gently at his hair, urging him down, igniting a fire you know won’t be put out easily.

Before his hand fully cups your breast, he pulls you even tighter against him, hot lips kissing and sucking at your skin as you press yourself back, trying to ease the ache between your legs against his growing cock.

The low moans slipping from Jungkook’s throat are music to your ears, and the realisation that he likely sang that song not for Hara, but for you, sends another wave of arousal out of your cunt.

“Jungkook…” you rasp, basking in his touch, but as soon as his name leaves your lips, he pulls back.

Thinking you’ve done something wrong, you turn your head, only to see him tugging off the last of his clothes. Relieved and more turned on than you’ve ever been, you strip off your own gear, leaving the blanket draped over you. It’s been years, your body’s changed, and while you know it shouldn’t matter, you still hope he doesn’t notice.

In a blink, he’s back, resuming where he left off, though now it’s his warm, smooth skin against yours. The ridges of his abdomen press along your back, and the feel of his cock—hard and oh so hot—against the cheeks of your ass is pure bliss.

You turn your head, trying to catch his gaze, maybe even hoping for a kiss, but when you catch sight of the familiar chain around his neck, it stops you in your tracks.

Jungkook pauses too, his eyes questioning, but as soon as he realises what you’re looking at, he gives you a lazy smirk, his hand cupping your face to turn you towards him and with it your whole body. 

You expect him to kiss you now, hungrily like he always did, but instead, he brushes his lips along your cheek, your neck, shifting to settle between your legs while the cool metal of the chain’s grazing your tits with every shift of his body.

“I don’t have a condom. I could…eat you out.”

His thigh pressing against you doesn’t lessen the ache, but you remember the one scare you had together, that time you thought you might be pregnant not long after you’d started dating. It wasn’t that you wouldn’t have wanted it, but you’d both been so young. Even now, the thought makes your heart skip, but not as violently as it used to. You’d be ready and willing to take the risk, though, would he? 

“I’m clean, on the pill.”

Jungkook lets out a low groan against your neck as you press your thigh gently against his cock, needing to give something back.

“I haven’t been with anyone since you. So clean.”

Is he serious? The thought hits you hard, and though you know he never lied to you before, you still can’t help but pull back, needing to see his face.

“You haven’t?”

“No.” His voice is barely a whisper, and the same love you remember shines in his eyes, making you tear up.

“Me too.”

“Fuck.” He returns to your neck, his fingers tracing your lines until they find your weeping cunt, slipping between your lips to spread your juices in gentle, familiar strokes as he preps you, every touch an echo of the love that maybe never faded.

The first stretch of his middle finger inside you is nothing short of insane, drawing you higher with a single stroke than any toy has managed in years. The way your cunt clenches around him seems to drive Jungkook on even more as he pumps with precise motions, soon adding his ring finger, bringing you dangerously close to euphoria.

Jungkook’s free hand roams from your neck to your tits, back and forth, squeezing, mapping you out like he forgot how you felt like, though finally resting on your jaw as he nestles his head between your shoulder and neck, leaving soft love bites in his wake.

It’s when he picks up the pace, the base of his palm hitting your clit relentlessly with each thrust, that you come undone, your orgasm flooding over his hand as he continues, determined to not stop just yet. 

A muffled whine of your name slips from his lips, softer than you’ve ever heard, and while you long to hear him call your pet name like he used to, it only amplifies the fullness in your heart for him.

Jungkook keeps his fingers inside you, now scissoring them to stretch you further as you cling to his back, not caring if you leave angry marks. 

“Think you can take it?”

“Yes,” you mewl, not caring if you couldn’t. You’ll take him, you need him, need to feel as if none of those years apart ever happened.

Once again, you think he might finally kiss you, but instead, he leans in and presses a soft kiss to your damp forehead. You momentarily frown, but it’s forgotten the second his cock aligns with your still sobbing cunt, dragging up and down to coat his entire length and even his tight balls.

The sight of Jungkook when he finally pushes in is nothing short of mesmerising. He’s so perfectly sculpted, every muscle cord defined, and with his piercings and tattoo sleeve, he looks like a fantasy you never dared dreaming of. 

You’ve always had a weak spot for tattoos, but seeing them inked across Jungkook’s skin? That’s your ultimate downfall. A glorious downfall, as the burn of his thick length pushing deep inside you sends you reeling, until he’s so far in that you can’t tell where he starts and you end.

“Oh my god,” you choke out, overwhelmed by everything Jungkook is—and everything he’s become.

He’s unusually silent, though you barely notice, not when he begins to rock his hips, leisurely sliding his massive cock in and out, low grunts and moans escaping him as his gaze locks onto yours and not dares to stray. 

Jungkook leans back, increasing the intensity of his thrusts, sweat forming in small beads along the ridges of his chest and abs, dripping down despite the cold. His nipples are hard, and your mouth waters with the urge to suck on them. But seeing his own mouth slightly parted, breaths quickening in time with the rhythm of his hips, you’re sure he’s thinking the same, drawn to your own nipples, standing proud on the jiggling flesh of your chest. 

And while you wish you were the flicker of firelight dancing across his skin, you’re not far behind, as his hands find their way from your hips to your tits, caressing them like he always did, giving you everything and far more. You need something to ground yourself, a way to keep from shattering under the emotions running wild in your mind, intensified with every thrust Jungkook drives into your core. So, you grip his wrists, not to stop him, but to urge him on—to make him pinch harder.

Maybe you need the bite of it, maybe you want him to not just take away the ache, but be the reason you remember this night years from now.

“Jungkook, I’m so close, oh my god.”

The grunt that escapes him reverberates through you, nearly pushing you over the edge on its own, but he slows, setting a gentler pace as he shifts so his mouth can worship you from your breasts to your neck, leaving a trail of hickeys across your delicate skin.

You know the two of you will be marked by the end of the night, and right now, that’s all you want. You want to leave yourself etched into his skin, to reclaim your place not only in his heart but in every part of him.

In this moment, it’s like you’re finally whole—not just because Jungkook fills you completely, but because he completes you. He always has, and while you’ve both been damned by what happened before, it feels like redemption might be close.

“You’re…” Jungkook murmurs against your skin, his warm breath searing into you, though you need him to finish his sentence, need to hear it.

But as you cradle his head in your hands and he lifts his gaze to meet yours, his eyes are hooded, yet glistening, and your throat tightens at the sight too.

Face to face, you share the same breath, as if you share one heart, your small hands gripping his face as if you never want to let go, his hands cradling your small head with the tenderness that once meant everything. It’s as though you feel what he’s trying to say—but somehow, you don’t.

There’s still a wall between you, still something unsaid screaming in the silence that just can’t seem to go away, and you’re sure he feels it too. He feels it as your orgasm builds, feels it in the desperation of his own thrusts, in the matching, agonising, wordless ache in both your eyes, feels it when you both shatter together in a burst of all colours and stars in existence. 

And then, all that’s left is pain.

He hasn’t kissed you, and you didn’t kiss him either.

And as he pulls his now-softening length from your still-pulsing cunt and reaches for a tissue from his trousers off the floor to help you clean up, he silently gets dressed. 

Dresses as if he’s ashamed, dressed as if he regrets it, dressed as if you’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to him.

So you do the same, slipping into your clothes before lying back down, shifting as close to the wall as possible, facing away from him to give him some peace where none is found. 

The tears falling silently onto the pillow should only be from the shivering that’s returned, a byproduct of the cold that momentarily disappeared but is now back as if you were never meant to feel warm again.

Finally, exhaustion sweeps over you. Physically. Mentally. And everything in between. 

And as Jungkook lies down too, once more pulling you close and wrapping you in the warmth you crave more than you can bear to admit, your eyes fall shut almost effortlessly.

Maybe sleeping it all away will make it better, forgotten as a dream that never was.

Forgotten, like everything good that once was but now isn’t anymore.

Forgotten, like the tear you feel slide down the back of your neck, disappearing into the fabric of your shirt where all your sins and failures lie buried.

01 • 02 • masterlist • 04

a/n 3: lmk what you think in any way you like! 👀 If you liked what you read, pls consider buying me a ☕️ Ko-fi.com/runariya 💕

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[madewithangst]

SVT + subtle acts of love

This is HIGHLY inspired by Jana's prompt

PAIRING: seventeen (ot13) x gn!reader FORMAT: drabble/headcanon WARNINGS: none?

🍒Seungcheol

Guiding you with a gentle hand on the small of your back. He's definitely the type to protect you at all costs—no question about it. He’ll make it clear to everyone that you’re HIS, but still respects you deeply. While Scoups often gets portrayed as the possessive, alpha type, the truth is, he’s more of a big softie with still a touch of gentlemanly charm.

😇Jeonghan

Fixing your clothes or hair. Knowing Jeonghan, who always has the prettiest hairstyle, he also pays close attention to how you look. Not in an overbearing or toxic way, but because he understands the little things—like how it feels when your blouse is unbuttoned, your bangs are out of place, or your makeup gets smudged. In a way, he becomes your personal "appearance police," always looking out for you.

🦌Joshua

Randomly giving you flowers. This man is a living uwu. We all know how pricey flower bouquets can be. With your hectic school/work schedule, receiving a bouquet always makes your heart swoon—but it's not just the flowers; it's the thought behind them. Joshua always makes sure to think of you, and with his means, why not spoil you with the most beautiful flowers he can buy?

😺Jun

Giving you food without asking. Remember that Teen Vogue interview where they played truth or dare with snacks on the table? Yep, this is totally inspired by that moment—Junhui was too busy mukbang-ing. But honestly, he gives off this vibe wherein whatever he snacks, you snack too. Especially after his trips to China—goodness, the amount of food he brought back just to share his favorite treats with you!

🐯Hoshi

Grabbing your hand and swinging it back and forth. As an introvert myself, physical touch is something I'm deeply into. Hoshi may look loud af on TV and in stadiums, but when the spotlight and cameras are off, that's when his introverted side kicks in. He recharges with cuddles and every bit of physical touch he can get from you. He loves doing the gesture of swinging your hands back and forth when you're out in public—it's his way of channelling his energy and finding comfort in your presence.

🐈‍⬛Wonwoo

Pulling out the chair for you. Another man that is a living uwu. With the world we're living in now, it's rare to find a gentleman like Wonwoo. It’s a small but meaningful gesture that shows he values your comfort and wants to make you feel special (bonus: he knows the gesture makes you swoon).

🍚Woozi

Writing you a love letter and hiding it for you to find. With a mind that never rests, and being in love with you only fuels his creativity. The boys joke that his song lyrics are getting too personal and too cheesy, so some of them get rejected. Clearly, the inspiration is you. So to channel his overflowing emotions, he turns to writing love letters, a practice you adore.

⚔️Dokyeom

Humming a song to calm you down. It started when you were having nightmares while he was away on tour. Luckily, it was daytime where he was, so he was there to comfort you with a phone call. He sang you to sleep that night, and since then, he’s never stopped singing for you especially when you need him most.

🐶Mingyu

Making your lunch to take to work/school with you. This man was born in this world to cook for you. That's it. He's the team leader in the kitchen department, but who can blame him? The guy can cook! He knows you need an extra minute of sleep, so he adjusts your alarm and takes care of the smallest tasks on your to-do list, like checking off "make lunch" for both of you.

🐸The8

Paying complete attention to you. Doesn't matter if he's in the middle of reading, painting, or even eating (especially eating), Minghao will turn his entire body toward you, giving you his full attention. He’s a man who believes in the importance of deep connection. So talking is very essential in your relationship. Whether you're ranting about work, sharing thoughts on the latest anime, or asking for fashion advice, he's always all ears.

🍊Seungkwan

Remembering something you told him. He has this remarkable ability to remember, which is probably a skill required when you're a big pop star. Even the smallest details of what you've shared with him are carefully stored in the file cabinet of his mind. He'll bring up something at the most unexpected moments, showing you how deeply he listens and values every word you say. It’s a quiet yet powerful reminder that you matter to him in ways you might not even realize.

🐼Vernon

Waiting at the door to come greet you when you get home. We all know Vernon and his naps, right? The boys know him all too well. That's why they couldn't believe it when you told them he's always there to greet you at the door when you arrive home (unless he's not home). He likes to nap on the couch when you're not home, so if he's napping, he'll wake up at the rattle of the key in the door. Eating? He'll run towards the door. Showering? Obviously impossible, but you'll still hear his loud voice from a distance. Baaaabe~

🦦Dino

Giving you a massage. Lee Chan is built to make others smile, and he pours that energy into every gesture. You were the one who started giving him massages because you noticed how his Hyungs always playfully tackle him, leaving him a bit worn out. Now, giving you massages has become his way of showing care, and he does it with a gentle touch, always focused on your comfort. It’s his quiet way of returning the favor, making sure you feel relaxed and appreciated, just as he always does for you.

a fun fact nobody asked, these three boys in the pictures are my holy trinity Thank you for the wonderful prompt @creativepromptsforwriting ✨

[haveihitanerve]

Dick Grayson is Bruce Wayne’s ward and Robin is Batmans son, there is no argument from either party. They get no say. Its just how it is. JL members have also dubbed him as Batmans feral gremlin demon thing and Batman the Devil himself who crafted Robin using his own soul. Robin cackled madly after hearing that. Batman laughed and the JL is extremely concerned and afraid now. Nightwing is Batman’s son and partner and he is Bruce Wayne’s most common rescuer, even though his main territory is in Blud. 

Jason Todd is Bruce Wayne's son and Robin is Batmans son, and both very much adore this title and treasure it. Red Hood is not Batman’s son, but he is Bruce Wayne’s. 

Tim Drake is Bruce Wayne’s emotional support child and child. Not son, his child. Robin is Batmans loyal partner and Batman is his father figure and mentor. Red Robin is Batman’s son. Drake has been disowned from the family and does not exist. 

Stephanie Brown is not Bruce Wayne’s child. She steals his food and his money and his children on occasion but she does not really belong to him. Try telling him that though and you've got another thing coming. Robin is Batman’s greatest  annoyance and she wears that as a fucking badge of honor. Batgirl is actually Batman's nemesis but not in like a Joker kind of way, more in a 'she steals things from his utility belt just before he tries to pull it out or drops encouraging notes on his patrol and also hacks his comms to play the same song over and over again' kind of way. Batman has been heard screaming her name like a curse on many occassions. Spoiler is Batman’s even greater annoyance and on occasion she allows herself to be his daughter. Batman does not get to decide these terms. 

Barbara Gordon is not Bruce Wayne’s daughter. He is her weird uncle who she also considers her mother and her step father who she also sees as her protector on the rare occasion she actually needs it but for the most part hes just the divorced father who shows up at her house sometimes asking for visiting rights. (sometimes she says yes) Batgirl is Batman’s loyal partner and confident and technically his daughter in law but she doesn't like that descriptor, but he is her mentor. Oracle is Batman’s stalker and ass kicker if he doesn't take care of himself. 

Cassandra Cain is Bruce Wayne's daughter through thick and thin and neither of them really get a say. Batgirl is Batman’s daughter and no one dares argue it. Orphan too. And Black Bat.

Damian Wayne is Bruce Wayne’s undisputed son, and Robin is Batman’s undisputed son as well (though heir is another matter.)

Duke Thomas is Bruce Wayne’s legally guarded(bruce is his legal guardian). The Signal doesn't associate with the Batman at all, but some consider him Batman’s mentee, and many would even argue Batman is very serious in his mentor/father figure role, seen on many occasions forcing a granola bar or hug onto the younger

All in all, every single child, adopted or not, it is very clear to every outsider, that they forced themselves into Bruce Wayne and Batman’s life and routine and while both males are vastly different, they clearly share the utter confusion about being parents, and whether they even are or not, because they don't get a say.

[froggiewrites]

Mating Call

Pairing: Siren!Doflamingo x Reader

NSFW

Summary: The song is beautiful. The man singing it is even more so. So you do not fight the call to climb the rocks and fall into his arms. You do not fight his warm embrace, his touch, his sweet cooing. This is where you’re meant to be, after all. Who are you to fight against the melody calling you home? Warnings: AFAB!Reader (no pronouns or gendered language used), Smut, Dubcon, Mind Control, Oral Sex (Reader receiving), Biting, Marking, Vaginal Sex Word Count: 2.7k Halloween Special 2024

The melody was the most beautiful thing you’d ever heard.

It was so soft at first you couldn’t understand why your heart had begun to sing, why your chest began to fill with warmth. You just knew you were at peace here, on this beach, sinking into the sand as the sun washed over you. It was only after you closed your eyes that you could finally hear the song clearly. There were no words, just the delicate warble of somebody else’s soul meeting yours. The harmony of it all compels you to move, to pull yourself out of the sand and start marching toward your destiny.

The voice shifts as you move, between pitches, genders, and emotions, before finally landing on a single one. A man’s voice, the mostly lovely baritone you’ve ever heard, calls to you. Not by name, but in spirit. Fate’s strings pull you forward, leaving footprints in the sand until you can feel the salty water of the sea up to your ankles. Your eyes open as the song grows louder, closer and closer, and you know that the man singing it will be ready to receive you.

Your hands find holds in the rocky wall in front of you, and you scale it with a precision you never knew you had. It’s as though someone else is moving your limbs for you, someone who knows the path like the back of their hand. You don’t slip once, not even when you reach sections wet from the sea, or those slick with something warm and red that you don’t pay any mind to. You’re almost there, and he’s ready and waiting for you.

The song reaches its peak right as your head peeks over the top of the ridge, and you can see him in his full glory: there is an angel waiting for you. His mouth is open wide, his eyes closed in concentration as he sings to you. He’s massive, nearly twice your height, covered in beautiful pink and white feathers that glisten in the light. They catch the sun, the rays dancing between them and almost making him sparkle. His torso disappears into a solid mass of feathers, which grow into legs far more similar to a bird’s than that of a human. Behind him are a massive pair of wings, the span of them large enough to blot out the sun if he so chose. As your feet finally rest at the top, he opens his eyes, which seem to pierce straight through you to your very core. At the same time, you see an image in your mind, so strong it nearly feels real: you, wrapped tightly in those feathers, shielded away from the world as he grants you all of the pleasure you could ever want. You can practically already feel him inside of you, feel his tongue inside of your mouth.

The song quiets as he finally speaks to you. “It could be a reality, little bird.” The moment he stops speaking, he immediately starts humming again, reaching his arms out to you invitingly. He gestures for you to approach, and once again your feet move before your mind does. Your hands reach for him, as though they were always meant to do so, and in an instant you’re surrounded by strong arms as his wings surround you both, blocking out the light and cradling you in their warmth. He smiles at you, the song fading, and you could swear his teeth were just a bit sharper than they were before. “Oh, you’re even lovelier up close.”

“Thank you,” you murmur shyly, suddenly aware of how very close the two of you are. He laughs with delight at the blush on your cheeks, holding you tighter and pressing your chests together.

“Oh, are you shy now? That won’t do.” He hums softly as he leans down and brushes his nose against your neck before nipping you, making you jump and inadvertently push yourself closer to him. Your arms move around his neck like they have a mind of their own. He nearly purrs when you do, so pleased with your acceptance. “There we go. That’s more like it, sweet thing.” He slides his fingers down your back, and you shiver as you realize they’re tipped with razor sharp claws, ones that could shred you in an instant if he wanted them to. You tense for just a moment, before he hums softly again, cooing in such a sweet tone that you can’t help but melt beneath his touch. Images of your union fill your mind again, of tender kisses and passionate embraces, of being laid down against these rocks and being taken again and again and again. He wouldn’t hurt you. He wants you. He needs you.

His head finally leaves your neck, and you get to see his eyes up close. They seem to pull back all of your layers, lay you bare beneath them. They call you forward, and before you realize it, your lips are against his. He makes a quiet noise of surprise, before you’re pulled up closer, your legs wrapping around his torso and his hands resting on your ass. The kiss begins as something almost tender, affectionate, before quickly gaining a heat that shoots straight to your core. His tongue meets yours, and he shifts to allow himself to hold you in only one arm, freeing the other to explore your body as it pleases. He reaches for your chest, letting out a soft noise of pleasure at the feeling of your softness beneath his fingers. He tries to brush against your nipples, before letting out a soft huff at the fabric in the way.

You’re so lost in it all, head fuzzy and warm, the sound of ripping threads doesn’t even startle you. Your bra and shirt are entirely shredded in an instant, falling off of you and drifting to the ground. When you shiver from the cold, his wings press in closer, trapping the heat from both of your bodies together, keeping you warm as his fingers knead at your breasts. His lips break away from yours so he can finally see them fully exposed, and he grins, all teeth. “Lovely little thing,” he murmurs, leaning down and taking one of your nipples into his mouth. 

He sucks gently, and you can occasionally feel just a hint of his teeth, slightly too large in his mouth to keep fully away. Every part of him is so terribly sharp, made for ripping and tearing carrion, for breaking bones, for killing small and tender things like you. But he holds back those edges, ever present but never quite threatening. Even as he lavishes your chest with attention, turning rougher, leaving marks that will certainly last, you remain entirely relaxed in his arms, ready to accept anything he’ll give you.

“You’re doing so wonderfully.” He smiles against your skin. “Really, I might have to keep you.” He lets out another quiet trill, and you easily fall back, your weight only supported by his wings. With both his hands free, he easily frees you of your pants and panties, leaving you fully bare. His tongue traces along your torso, down to where you’re dripping and waiting for him. Instead of giving you what you so desperately crave, his attention moves to your thighs, the plush untouched skin just begging to be bitten and marked.

You whine when his teeth make contact. “Please.”

He chuckles. “Please, what?” You moan as his tongue swipes up your thigh, closer to your cunt, but still torturously far. “I’ll get there, little bird. Just be patient.” Despite his scolding words, he seems thrilled at your pleas, preening at every little sob and cry, clearly proud of reducing you to such a state. It is only after you’re near tears that he finally gives in, and he spreads your lips with his fingers, admiring how wet you are.

“Needy little thing.” He gives you a long swipe of his tongue, and you can’t help but throw your head back as you moan. “Delicious. So perfect.”

 He clearly savors your taste, eyes briefly falling closed as he allows it to sink in. You let out a needy little sound despite yourself, and you can see the edge of his lip twitch slightly before he opens his eyes, staring into yours, and diving right in. His tongue laps at you, gathering your juices for him to enjoy. As your pleasure builds, overwhelming you, you desperately try to find something to ground yourself. You settle for his shoulders, the soft downy feathers there tickling your palms as you squeeze, holding onto him for dear life. After he hits a particularly sensitive spot, your nails dig into him and he groans. You let go, afraid you’ve hurt him, and he pulls back to bark at you, “No, no, no. Put them back.”

You place your hands on his shoulders again, gently, and he lets out a frustrated huff. “No. Harder. Leave your marks.” At his instruction, you dig your nails in harder than ever before, and you can feel his skin break beneath your fingertips. He moans. “Yes, perfect. And so obedient. I really will have to keep you.”

He goes back to lapping against you with a revived fervor, something new rising inside of him. You continue to dig into his skin, hard enough to bruise, and he lets out a soft groan as the pressure increases. It drives him wild, sends his tongue deeper than before, causes his claws to press into your hips, not breaking the skin but teasing the idea.

“Delicious. Worth missing a few meals for.” He pulls back to show his face is covered in your slick. He licks his lips, gathering more of it on his fingers just to pop them in his mouth. He hums, pleased with your taste, giving you a grin that’s all teeth. “You really were made for me, little bird. I wonder how you’ll enjoy being mine.”

You shiver at the idea. Of being wanted, needed, cherished. “I’m going to love it,” you mutter.

His smile grows wider. “Of course you will, sweet thing. I’m glad you realize that." He moves up, crashing his lips into yours, your own taste filling your mouth. “My pretty little mate, here waiting for me whenever I want you. What a wonderful thing.”

Your mind fills with images of you curled up in a nest, naked and waiting as he approaches. Your arms are always outstretched, welcoming him home, not minding the blood spattered on his beautiful feathers. You accept what he gives you, no matter what it is. A gift, his touch, his cock, you accept it all, pleased to receive anything from him. You spread your legs before he even asks, knowing what he wants, and you allow him to take you. The pleasure is beyond you imagination, every single time, every nerve in your body alight with every touch. The vision, combined with his current ministrations, brings tears to your eyes, as you nearly drown in your pleasure, both current and future.

He licks a tear off of your cheek, groaning as his aching cock ruts into your thigh. “Oh, you perfect little thing. So willing. So wanting. So ready to be had. Do you want me, sweet thing?”

“Yes!”

“Excellent. Then you’ll have me, again and again. Let’s make the first time count.” He slowly sinks into you, moaning in your ear of the feeling of your wetness around him. You wrap your arms around him, nails digging into his shoulder blades, arms tucked directly under the wings that curl around you both. The softness is contrasted by the sharpness of his claws against your hips, and the stiffness inside of you. His hips twitch as he struggles to hold himself back, but you don’t worry for a moment. He wouldn’t be rougher than you could handle, you know. His melodic moans sound in your ears, relaxing your muscles and mind.

He gives you a moment to adjust to his size, to the feeling of fullness, before he begins a harsh pace, hips slapping against yours, feathers brushing against you with every thrust. He places open mouthed kisses against your neck, gentle bites against your neck that grow harsher as he begins to lose himself. You don’t know if the warmth dripping down your front is your blood or his saliva. You don’t know if you care.

His thrusts grow quicker and quicker, sloppier and sloppier, furiously pounding into you. His breaths are ragged, frantic, as he chases his high. Your chests rub together, your nipples rubbing against both skin and feathers, the sensation overwhelming. You cry out as you come undone around him, clenching around his length, your body desperately trying to pull pleasure out of him with its own. He spills into you with a groan, warmth filling you as he wraps his arms around your waist, trapping you against him.

“Don’t waste a single drop, little bird.”

He waits for a few minutes, keeping you against him, cooing sweet nothings, before he finally decides he is done. He walks across the rocks, claws softly clicking against stone, before speaking again.

“You did wonderfully.”

You lay back, chest heaving, and he lets you go for the first time since you stepped foot onto the rocks. Your back is against something soft, which you think may be his nest. You feel his hands brush against you as he checks you over, ensuring not of his bites were too deep. He lets out a soft coo when he finds everything to his satisfaction. “Excellent, little bird.” You can hear him fussing with something before you feel something in your mouth, fishy and wet. You gag, and he pulls it out with a displeased hum. “Not right, hm? I’ll find something else.”

You hear his footsteps leave, off to find something else to feed you, and you shift onto your side. Your entire body is sore, and you can feel the cum leaking out onto your thighs, sticky and warm. When you stretch your legs, you feel your foot hit something, and the soft clatter of something hitting the ground. The sound is strange, unfamiliar, and when you open your eyes, you see it.

Bones.

You seem to have kicked the femur of some large animal. It knocked into a pile of smaller bones, some tiny and square and some longer and thinner. Something about them is sickeningly familiar. You try to push down the nausea, ignore the thought that if you peeled back your skin you would find something nearly identical beneath it. For a moment in your mind, you see your lover’s teeth and claws sinking into your skin for you, ripping you apart so very easily, coming to him far more naturally than tenderness ever could. Bile rises in your throat, and all of your muscles tense, ready to scream, to run, to throw yourself off of this cliff and into the waters below because you might survive and even if you didn’t it would surely be a kinder fate than this poor thing had.

“Darling?” Your head shoots up to see him again, hands filled with berries, nuts, and other various plants he seems to have gathered for you. His eyes drift to your feet, and you see understanding in them. “Ah. I see. I should have tidied up earlier.”

As he approaches, you prepare to launch yourself past him, to get as far as you can, but his smile is so gentle as he quietly begins to hum. The song grows louder, and you feel your muscles relax as he steps closer. His hand rests on your cheek, claws held carefully away. He lifts a berry to your mouth, and you open it with ease, allowing him to place it on your tongue. It’s sweet.

He tenderly brushes his hand over your head, continuing his song, pulling you into his chest. You curl into him easily. He hand feeds you every morsel he gathered, smiling all the while. “Everything’s alright, little bird. Nothing to fear. I plan on keeping you around for a very long time.”

Tag List: @pandora-writes-one-piece @shy-writer-999 @saturogojosgirl

[forzalando]

what makes the sunset?

3k celebration blurb for @katsu28! you can find my celebration post here if you'd like to celebrate with me :) title inspired by the song what makes the sunset? - frank sinatra. if you’d like, give it a listen! that’s the vibe of lando x reader in this💛 word count: 845 summary: sappy sunset with lando. obvious they both love each other but no established relationship (i love idiots in love).

The time was nearing 8:00pm – you’d already cooked and cleaned up dinner, thrown a load of laundry in the washer, changed into comfy PJs, and vacuumed your entire living space.

The tick of your tv remote was beginning to drive you mad. Each time you scrolled to the next tv show or movie in your recommended, the sound grew louder and louder. After ten minutes of searching, you reached for your phone and went to the last text thread in your messages.

what should I watch? I literally can’t find anything that looks interesting and it’s driving me insane

The reply bubbles appeared on your screen almost immediately, but your (hopefully) saving grace decided to call instead of respond via text.

“What are you in the mood for?” Lando asked, his mouth clearly full of his dinner.

“Did you call me so that you wouldn’t have to take a break from eating to text me back?”

“Maybe, but I’m the one asking the questions here. What are you in the mood for?”

“Hmm,” you paused, “something beautiful, passionate, emotionally stirring. I want to feel something.”

“And you came to me for suggestions?” Lando’s laugh rang through the speaker, the sound filling you with warmth.

“Well, excuse me, Mr. ‘I’m a Scorpio and let me tell you all about it’! Aren’t you supposed to be passionate and emotional?”

“Alright, give me a minute to think!”

The silence was brief, not even 30 seconds had passed before Lando began speaking again.

“Be ready in 15 minutes, I’ve got the perfect idea.”

Before you had a chance to ask what he meant, the line went dead. You huffed out a breath and made your way to your room to change out of your pajamas – which, quite honestly, soured your mood a bit.

Exactly 15 minutes after your call ended, Lando Norris was furiously knocking at your door.

“Come on, come on, hurry up!!!” You could hear him yelling from outside your apartment – thank goodness it was early enough that your neighbors wouldn’t complain about a nighttime disturbance.

Swinging your door open, you came face to face with Lando, his arm raised to knock incessantly once again.

“You are insufferable,” you huffed. Those were the only words you could get out before Lando was practically dragging you towards the elevators.

“Where are we even going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he sang. You couldn’t help but laugh at his giddiness, following him blindly down to his car sitting outside your building, still running and somehow not stolen.

You tried to guess – ice cream, a friend’s place, a movie theater. With each guess, Lando shook his head and teased that he wasn’t going to tell you. Soon, Lando had parked his car in a familiar lot, one you’d driven to many times before when the weather was nice and he was miraculously home.  

The sand was white and inviting – it squished underneath your toes as you stepped onto the beach, soft and still slightly warm from the sun beating down on it all day. You began to sit down when you heard Lando shouting behind you.

“NO sandy bottoms in my car, I brought a beach blanket you heathen!”

Sure enough, you turned around and there he was with the beach blanket you’d bought for him last summer. It had papayas on it, you simply couldn’t pass up the opportunity.

“So what are we doing here, Lan?”

He gestured towards the view in front of you. “You said you wanted to watch something beautiful and emotionally stirring.”

You looked at him quizzically, his hint completely lost on you. He rolled his eyes teasingly, scooting closer to you and bringing his arm up to look at his watch.

“The sun should start setting in about…five minutes? If I timed this correctly.”

“You brought me to the beach to watch the sunset?” A soft smile graced your lips, and it was your turn to scoot closer to Lando, only a few centimeters separating your legs.

“It just kind of popped into my head, but I should have asked you. I didn’t totally think this through, I’m sorry – ”

“Lando,” you interrupted him. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”

He smiled at you and breathed a sigh of relief as he looked out towards the water, his shoulders visibly relaxing. It was silent for a few moments until he tensed again, turning to face you with wide eyes.

“Are you cold? The temperature is going to drop like twenty degrees, I have an extra hoodie in my car, let me go grab it.”

As he started to get up, you gently grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, finally closing the tiny gap of space between you.

“I’m fine, Lando,” you insisted, leaning your head on his shoulder and linking your arms. “You’re everything I need.”

He relaxed again and lowered his head slowly to meet yours, intertwining your fingers at the same time. As the two of you sat in silence, unspoken words and feelings swirled around in your minds.

Emotionally stirring was an understatement.

[delusional-day-dreamer]

First. Love. Part¹ - p.b

playlist. next part.

‣ paige bueckers x oc (reader?, tbh i'm not sure how it works!)

‣ wc: 1790

‣‣ synopsis: people say in life, you have your FIRST love and your first LOVE, but what if paige was both?

‣‣‣ a/n: y'all i'm SO SORRY for my inactivity, summer classes and morning practices are awful. i promise i will try to release more fics on a more regular basis. For the sake of the FICTIONAL story, pazzi simply does not exist, they are best friends but denied the rumors during azzi's freshmen year and she has a boyfriend. Songs that are underlined are linked to tiktok covers just because I love them!

Us Weekly : Tuesday June 13th, 2023

Just this friday, upcoming singer-songwriter Jenna Smyths performs her own song, Means Something and an instrumental cover of Holy Ground by Taylor Swift at BBC Live Lounge to introduce her soon to be released debut album, Eternal Us (not my most creative moment I know 😔). The young singer has just graduated from UCLA after completing her three-year Bachelor's Degree with a double major, her focus being Business Economics with a minor in Film, Television, and Digital Media.

This Friday was Jenna's first televised performance, and her constantly sold out small-venue concerts have been applauded all over social media and by celebrities for her vocal maturity, depth and intricacy within her song lyrics, and her ability to convey raw emotion through her performances. However, this song cover was announced by the singer-songwriter to be particularly special to her, as she mentions that this song "brings back specific memories".

The twenty-one year old kept her composure throughout both songs, yet fans on various media platforms have pointed out Jenna's seemingly tear filled eyes during Holy Ground. The artist addresses the emotions she felt during the song during her first appearance on the Jimmy Fallon Show after performing her first released single, Promise, which is prominently featured as it’s one of her most popular singles.

The Tonight Show: Monday June 12th, 2023 "Please welcome to The Tonight Show, Jenna Smyths," Jimmy introduced you as you walked onto the set of the show, the live audience cheering loudly as you took your seat on the couch.

"Thank you so much Jimmy, it's such an honor to be here, sitting on this sacred couch," you joked, bringing some of your recently curled hair over your shoulder in hopes of disguising any traces of anxiety the crowd or camera may pick up. Thankfully, it worked as you heard the stir of laughter on set, allowing you to relax further into the couch, it actually was quite comfortable.

"It's incredible that we have you sitting here, I mean almost two years ago you blew up on TikTok for your incredible song covers, and then you started playing live in a bunch of LA venues, then you started releasing your own music, and now you're a UCLA Alumni sitting here," as he summed up your rise to fame, the audience began another round of applause.

"Oh my gosh I know right," you giggled, overjoyed that the audience was showing so much support towards you and that your first big interview was going so well. "I swear it was like two weeks ago I was singing on TikTok and then freaking out about my notifications and somehow I just teleported here," you laughed off the slight tinge you felt in your heart.

College had gone by far too quickly, and you were constantly consumed with stress regarding your future. Up until a few weeks ago, you had no idea what you were going to do with your life. What if your album flopped? What if you never made it big? How would you move on and get a regular job from there?

"Yes yes, I remember seeing some of your earliest covers on tiktok. In fact," a smirk appeared on his face, he clearly had something hiding up his sleeve. "We just so happen to have a little video edited together of your old covers, for old times' sake just to show how far you've come," he laughed at the nervous expression on your face and the crowd's enthusiasm.

"Oh god, some of those are from questionable times," you mumbled, raising your right hand to slightly cover your mouth as the video played.

Clips of you singing in your old college apartment bedroom appeared, switching in between guitar covers and piano while singing Katy Perry's Teenage Dream, We Can't Be Friends by Ariana Grande (yes pretend it was out at the time), Bags by Clairo, to the Man Who Can't Be Moved, and a few others. You watched your younger self, heartbroken and healing, singing songs to post on the internet just for your friends to watch, and yet somehow your voice had reached millions of people.

"Well you can see it here clear as day folks, Jenna has clearly always had a knack for those gut-wrenching songs, the ones that make you wonder if you're depressed or the artist is just incredibly good at what they do," you knew he was introducing your live performance with this, sneakily rubbing your sweaty palms over your jeans. You weren't nearly as scared as your BBC performance, but the combination of fear and adrenaline before any performance was overwhelming compared to logic at times.

"So what do you guys say, because I think we need to hear it live to determine which one it truly is," the small crowd erupted at Jimmy's rhetoric, eager to watch your performance.

"Well when you ask so nicely how could I ever refuse Jimmy?" You grinned, standing up to make your way over to the performance area with the live band.

With your guitar in your hands, you let the unique sense of calmness and security wash over you as you adjusted the mic in front of you. Music had always been one of the biggest parts in your life, and even know it never failed you. Not in your best moments, and not even in your worse.

"This is Promise from my new album, Eternal Us, out June 30th"

***Post-performance part of the interview***

"Jenna, you know I have to ask you this, because so far the songs on your album, your covers, and even your performance at the BBC Live Lounge were all fairly depressing songs," Jimmy insists. The two of you had been joking and answering the interview questions with a sense of ease after the performance aspect of the show. The audience was eating up the playful energy the two of you seemed to have, despite the twenty-seven year age gap.

"Please, ask away Jimmy," you quipped, enjoying your time on the show. The steady laughter from the live audience had long soothed any remaining nerves. Growing up, you always felt as if you were born to perform, and this type of live interview was right up your alley.

"And I swear I'm being serious with this, but does the emotion in your music affect you the same it affects your listeners? Because after your cover of Holy Ground aired, you blew up on social media even more then you were before. But one of the things your fans noticed was that it looked like you were gonna cry?" Jimmy inquired, you could hear small murmurs from the audience section at his question, no doubt intrigued to hear your answer.

"You know Jimmy," you began, "Honestly it was just a heat of the moment kinda thing. Like obviously I changed the song in a different key and sang it that way intentionally you know? Taylor is known for her ability to write the most gut-wrenching lyrics and then syncing them up to a catchy beat in a pop song and boom, it's a hit," you explained to both him and the crowd.

"But when I was offered the opportunity to go on BBC Live Lounge and I was trying to decide what song to cover, the lyrics of the song just really stuck out to me in a personal way and I wanted to convey to my listeners the emotions I felt reading and experiencing the lyrics, not listening to it as an upbeat pop song. But don't get me wrong, it's an incredible song just the way it is!" You ended your ramble enthusiastically, trying your best to not delve into the deeper emotions laced within your statement.

"Of course, I mean it was your first televised performance and to a Taylor Swift song no less, but this song has a very meaning to it, unlike some of Taylor's other doctorate-level essay worthy songs you could spend hours analyzing," Jimmy jokes, lightening the mood as always before asking the hard hitting question you had been dreading the entire interview.

"Why did you choose to sing a song about reminiscing of a past relationship, an ex lover if you will. I mean, a good majority of your songs follow the heartbroken post-breakup theme, but the media isn't aware of any relationships you may or may not have had during your time at UCLA, was there someone before?" He questions.

"You're right, I didn't have any actual relationships while at UCLA. My only serious relationship was during my last two years of high school, and a lot of my songs I'm releasing now were written during that time or even earlier, I've just polished them a lot. And of course, my earliest covers are from my freshman year of college, so the wound was still pretty fresh you know?" You skimmed over the topic, keeping the discussion as light-hearted as possible.

"Oh my god, all of that was from one person?" Jimmy jokes, unaware of how hard his statement hits home for you.

"Yeah I mean, I guess your first love will just do that to you, you know?" You joked back. You refused, refused, to let Paige Bueckers affect you in this way on national television. It had been three years for god's sake, you needed to get a grip of yourself.

"Well, they must have been one heck of a first love to be such a long-lasting muse for you," Jimmy pried, and you could tell he was waiting for you to give more details about your relationship.

"Nah nah, cut the cameras, I think we're out of time for tonight right," you nervously laughed, jokingly leaning over to gesture in an over the top manner to the camera crew to stop filming, which roused hefty laughter around set at your antics.

"Don't worry Jenna, we'll leave that topic for next time yeah?" Jimmy chuckled at your immediate refusal, using his perfected charm to continue the interview without any bumps or awkward conversations.

Before you knew it, the interview had been long over and you were laying in your hotel's bedroom. In your opinion, the NYC suite was luxurious and was far too large for just one person to reside. But fortunately for you, you were used to the sense of loneliness you felt in the empty room. To think that you were only a few hours away from Paige, your first love, your first everything, and yet you had never felt more separated from a person you used to love with your whole being.

Thank you for reading all the way through! Part 2 of So High School will be out soon I promise, this series just happened to randomly inspire me and I want to finish it asap before I lose motivation or hit writer's block!

[fear-is-truth]

can I please request some headcannons as to what you think the Evans would be like when they’re drunk? thank you!!! :)))

⋆𐙚 ₊ the evans… drunk .ᐟ

ft. tate langdon ‧ kit walker ‧ frat!kyle spencer ‧ jimmy darling ‧ james patrick march ‧ cult leader! kai anderson ‧ austin sommers ‧ peter maximoff ‧ colin zabel ‧ warren lipka

⟢ 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐃𝐎𝐍.

tate would become a fucking menace. he’d pull pranks on the other ghosts, or just plain insult them. he finds endless amusement in being a little shit, glancing over at you to see if you’re laughing too.

he’d be glued to you, practically following you room-to-room like a newly adopted puppy, even if you’re just going to the bathroom. “where’re you going?” he’d stand right outside the door, waiting for you to come back, greeting you with a lazy, lovesick grin like he hasn’t seen you in hours.

drunk tate would mutter a lot—sometimes to himself, sometimes to you. it’d be of random thoughts, little complaints, or dreamy, barely coherent things like, “can’t believe you’re real…” his words would come out slurred and soft, but he’d have this intense focus on you, clearly wrapped up in his own head.

venting. a lot of venting.

⟢ 𝐊𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐋𝐊𝐄𝐑.

would do his best to keep himself together, reminding you both to “take it easy,” but he’d totally stumble over his own plans. kit would try holding his drink steady, only to spill half of it, laughing it off with an, “ah, whoops!” as if it was the funniest thing ever.

his sense of humor would skyrocket, and he’d be doubled over laughing at the simplest things. someone makes a lame pun? he’s cracking up. you give him a look? pure comedy gold.

his slurred boston accent would get thicker, making everything he says sound even more sexier.

would also get extra honest and sappy, letting his emotions spill out in the most genuine way. he’d look at you with teary eyes and tell you how much he appreciates you, going on about how grateful he is to have found you.

⟢ pre death .ᐟ 𝐊𝐘𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄𝐑.

kyle wouldn’t get blackout drunk, he’d getting just tipsy enough to be completely adorable. his cheeks would be flushed a rosy pink, and he’d have that big, goofy grin on his face.

would start singing along to whatever song is playing.

even with a few drinks in him, kyle’s the one guy who would still keep an eye out for anyone who needs help. if he saw a random girl looking unsteady, he’d guide her to a safe spot, and if she had to throw up in the bathroom, he’d stay with them, holding her hair. then he’d call her friends to get her.

if any one of his frat brothers try and mess with you he’d literally fistfight them.

⟢ 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐌𝐘 𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆.

drunk jimmy would be all over you, getting incredibly touchy, pulling you into his lap whenever he gets his hands on you. he’d slur sweet, filthy things out loud — it’s embarrassing as hell but kinda hot.

would keep drinking even after you told him to stop. “nah, babe,’m fine—jus’ one more i swear.” of course, this would end with him either passing out or vomiting.

if anyone so much as looked at you the wrong way, drunk jimmy would be ready to kick some serious ass. “what’re you starin’ at, huh? you think you can just look at her like that?!” you’d have to hold him back before he got into full florida man mode.

⟢ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐂𝐊 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐂𝐇.

i think james would have crazy good alcohol tolerance.

he would be uncharacteristically handsy. insisting you to sit on his lap, arm winding possessively around your waist. he’d hold you close, running his fingers up and down your arm or resting his hand at the small of your back.

“you’re such a vision, my dear,” in that slurred, (fake) brahms accent.

james, in his drunken fascination, would suddenly become enchanted by the smallest, strangest details in the room. he’d point out the ornate carvings on the furniture or the imperfections in a painting, waxing poetic about how they contribute to the room’s “soul.” “just look at that crack in the wood,” he’d remark, “is it not beautifully flawed, just like us?” (he’s a dangerous tainted & flawed man ykwim)

handing you his cigar, he’d watch you intently, clearly enamored with the idea of you lighting it for him. he’d guide your hand, fingers lingering over yours, taking pleasure in the ritual. “steady now, darling,” he’d drawl, a pleased smirk on his face as he watches the flame catch.

would become even more extravagant with his compliments. he’d shower you with praise, admiring everything from the way you smile to the way you hold yourself. “my dearest, you bring such grace to this place,” he’d say, gazing at you with genuine adoration. “i am, as ever, your humble servant.”

⟢ cult leader .ᐟ 𝐊𝐀𝐈 𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐎𝐍.

kai would do his absolute best to act stone-cold sober, even after chugging straight vodka or something hardcore. he’d stand up straighter, make eye contact, and talk in his usual serious tone, almost daring you to suggest he might be tipsy. if he starts slurring? he’d blame it on something like tiredness to keep his ego intact.

thousand yard stare.

would get worked up over small things, flipping into-rants about whatever’s on his mind, each one more dramatic than the previous. topics vary on politics, the state of society, or how he’s totally not drunk.

when tipsy, kai would be a touch more lenient. allowing you to sit on his lap, play with his hair, maybe even cracking a slight smile at your jokes.

⟢ 𝐀𝐔𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐒.

austin would absolutely start singing instead of speaking after getting a bit smashed. belting out tunes or turning every sentence into a musical number, “who’s ready for a refiiiillll~?”

every drink would require a toast, and they’d progressively get more absurd and inappropriate. “to art, sex, and whatever the fuck this cocktail is supposed to be!”

would be shamelessly flirty with everyone, but his attention would always come back to you.

⟢ 𝐏𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐗𝐈𝐌𝐎𝐅𝐅.

his hyper ass would be bouncing off the fucking wall.

would steal people’s drinks mid-sip or rearranging furniture in the room for no reason.

“bet i can chug this entire keg and still run a lap around the earth. wanna see?”

⟢ 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐈𝐍 𝐙𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐋.

colin’s drunk vocabulary would be filled with “erm” and “errr,” with every other sentence stumbling out in a mess of slurred words. “errr… what i—what i meant was… wait, i had it. it was, uh… gone now, but it was good, i promise.

if anyone tried to bother you or made a lewd comment, colin would get hella territorial in his tipsy state. “hey, buddy, why don’cha back off the milady, alright? she’s—she’s with me.”

would insist on carrying your coat, guarding your drink, or even offering to dance with you.

all in all, a total sweetheart.

⟢ 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍 𝐋𝐈𝐏𝐊𝐀.

warren would be that guy at the party, jumping off rooftops into pools or climbing on furniture while shouting, “heyyy watch this!” he’d have no fear and thrive on being the centre of attention.

if body shots were happening, you could bet warren would be in the thick of it, grinning ear to ear.

would totally dominate beer pong.

his version of dancing would involve spinning you around wildly or grinding against you to whatever beat was playing.

sex in the bathroom or smoking dope. or both.

 fear-is-truth 2024 — all rights reserved. do not modify, repost, translate, or plagiarise my content.

[straylightdream]

dress - They got no idea about me and you

𝐟𝐞𝐚𝐭: lee jihoon x f.reader

↳ Say my name and everything just stops. I don't want you like a best friend. Only bought this dress so you could take it off.

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: friends to lovers, secret lovers, non idol au

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: so much angst, emotional jihoon, jealous jihoon, drinking, see smut warnings below

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.7k

𝐚𝐧: inspired by the Taylor swift song of the same name. You can also fill out this form helping me pick songs for the other boys here. The rest or the boys stories will be in my svt m.list.

if you would like to be tagged please fill out this form.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: unprotected sex(mc is on birth control), creampie, breeding kink, body worship, jealous jihoon, oral (both rec), dirty talk

In a crowded bar on the east side wasnt how you planned on spending your Saturday night. Your original plan to stay at Jihoon house went out the window when his roommate Jeonghan brought a girl home unexpectedly. You were going to move your movie night to your place but Seungkwan had other plans. The moment Jihoon showed up Seungkwan forced you to go to the bar with him. Your roommate had this wild idea to try and hook up with Mingyu. Jihoon was pissed when he heard about Seungkwan’s idea. This all stems from the fact none of your friends know about what you and Jihoon do behind closed doors. From the outside people just think Jihoon is your best friend. They don’t know that you crossed the line six months ago. Things all changed one night when you got drunk on wine together and had sex on his living room couch.

Leaning against the wall, he pretended to pay attention to the game of pool that Soonyoung and Seungkwan are playing. His real focus is on you while you stand at the bar drinking your favorite fruity cocktail while Mingyu is clearly flirting with you.

Jihoon is pretty sure he’s loved you since he met you. He thinks back to the first time you met back in college. According to you he found you at your lowest point in your life. Everything in your life was falling apart, you had been cut off from your parents and the boy you gave up everything for was cheating on you. Jihoon found you crying your eyes out at the library. He made it his mission to make sure you were never that sad again. He barely knew you for a week when you crashed at his apartment for two weeks while he helped you find a roommate. He’s the reason you now live with Seungkwan. That was six years ago. Since then things between the two of you have been very different. Now Jihoon can barely keep it hidden how in love with you he is. He wasn’t sure if you felt the same way so he made the decision to take whatever you wanted to give him. He started this friends with benefits because he thought that was all you wanted.

“Jihoon,” Seungkwan yells. He must have been zoning out for a while if Seungkwan noticed. “Can you stop glaring at Mingyu?”

Jihoon rolls his eyes trying to act like he wasn’t staring. “I just zoned out, I wasn't even paying attention to him.”

“I don’t know what this is but I’m going to go order a drink for me and my girl. She’ll be here soon.”

Seungkwan leaned against the pool table. “Ji, when was the last time you got laid? You seem like extra tension right now.” Seungkwan didn’t need to know that he had sex with you last night after you finished your shift at work.

“Boo knock it off,” he rolls his eyes.

“Do you think Mingyu and (YN) will make a good pair?” Seungkwan asked completely oblivious to Jihoon's jealousy.

Jihoon takes a deep breath trying to not snap at his friend. He also doesn’t want to give away what had been going on between you and him.

Before Jihoon can say anything else Soonyoung’s girlfriend walks into the bar with Vernon in tow with her. He’s happy her arrival will distract Seungkwan so he’ll leave him alone.

Walking outside Jihoon takes a moment to get some fresh air. The chilled air feels nice against his warm skin. Leaning against the brick wall he tries to push away all the little negative thoughts that seem to be swimming around his head. He’s wondering if maybe he should stop his arrangement with you. Maybe you could be with Mingyu or someone else.

“You disappeared on me,” you say walking outside. His eyes travel your body admiring the black dress he’s never seen you wear before.

“Sorry,” he sighs. “Shouldn’t you be with Mingyu?”

“No.”

Closing his eyes he leans his back against the brick wall. “You and him would make a good couple.”

“What the fuck?” You have no clue why he’s saying this. You’ve never mentioned anything about having any interest in anyone other than Jihoon. “I don’t want anyone other than you.”

“Maybe someone else would be better for you than me,” he sighs.

Wrapping your arms around your stomach you feel like you want to cry. You aren’t sure why Jihoon is acting like he doesn’t want you anymore. “I don’t want anyone else.”

“Why me?” He looks at you with pain behind his eyes.

“Do you want a goddamn list of all the reasons I only want you?” You say trying not to get upset.

He steps towards you. He feels like an asshole for how this conversation is going. “Why does everything between us just feel like a secret?” You don’t say anything, you just silently stare at him. “I feel like all I ever do is pine for you and wait patiently for my moments alone with you. I feel like my hands are constantly shaking from holding back from being able to touch you.” You still haven’t said anything, you're just silently staring at him as tears start to fall. “Please say something, I’m begging if you say anything.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“Fucking anything. I feel like I’m going crazy right now.” He steps away from you.

“I don’t want you just to be my best friend.” You practically yell. He turns back towards you. Without even thinking he backs your body up against the brick wall. He cages you in with his arms. “Jihoon I don’t know what the fuck is going on. But I have never said or done anything that would make you think I could possibly want anyone other than you.”

“Why is it all a secret?” He pleads, he can’t hide how upset he is any longer.

“Because I was fucking scared,” you cry. “I don’t know how to properly love someone anymore. And I was fucking terrified that if everyone knew what was going on, if we broke up or I messed up everyone would blame me.”

His hand rests on your cheek and you flinch not expecting him to touch you. “I would never hurt you,” he whispers.

“I know,” he’s never hurt you and never would. You just weren’t prepared to be touched. “I don’t have a family anymore. You and the boys are my family. I’m scared that I’m going to lose the family I have chosen.”

“Please let me love you. I don’t want any more secrets. I can’t keep doing this whole secret lovers thing.” You don’t say anything, you just lean forward, crashing your lips into his. You tangle your fingers in his long hair pulling him closer to you.

“Maybe we should leave,” he says with his lips ghosting yours.

“I think we should,” you pull away from him.

Taking your hand in yours he leads you back into the bar. “Say a quick goodbye to Mingyu. I'm taking you home.” He lets go of your hand long enough for you to say a quick goodbye before he takes your hand in his and leads you towards the door. Jihoon glaced at the bar to see Seungkwan smiling. He gives Jihoon a knowing nod before he takes you away.

The drive back to your place is filled with silence. Jihoon grips the steering wheel focusing on driving. You are not sure what caused him to get so upset but you know you’re to blame.

Walking into your two bedroom apartment you share with Seungkwan, Jihoon shuts and locks the door. Taking off your shoes you stand in front of him in the black sparkly dress you had bought just for him.

“I’ve never seen you wear that before,” he finally speaks up since you’ve been alone.

“I bought it just for you. I was hoping you would take it off of me,” you push your fingers through your hair. When you agreed to go out with everyone to the bar you made an effort to look cute for Jihoon. You were hoping you would go to the bar for a little while and then return back to your apartment to ravish each other. You even wore a new lingerie set just for him.

“What’s happening here?” He asked, taking his shoes off.

“Jihoon I don’t know. We were fine when we left my apartment and suddenly things feel like they’re falling apart.”

He steps towards you. His hand gently rests on your cheek. “I don’t want things to fall apart, I just want you.”

Closing your eyes you whisper, “you already have me.”

“I want all of you. I don’t want any more secrets.” Leaning forward he rested his nose against yours.

“I’ll be whatever you want me to be.”

“Okay, that means I’m not going to hide what we have anymore,” your lips touch for the first time since this all started tonight. Instant relief washes over you, knowing that things are going to be okay.

Taking his hand in yours you lead him off to your room. Shutting the door he walks up behind you. “Am I still allowed to be the one who takes off your dress?”

“Yes.”

Pushing your hair out of the way he slides the zipper down on your sparkly black dress. He pushed down the thin straps. Gently he leaves a trail of kisses down your spine. There is a pool black sparkly fabric at your feet. Delicate hands run down your sides. Closing your eyes you take in his touch. His fingers toy with the thin straps of your bra.

“I’m you’re to fully undress,” you say.

Unclasping your bra he reaches in front of you massaging your breast. His hands gently tweak your nipples earning a moan from you. “I love you,” whispers before pressing his lips to your shoulder.

You have always questioned why Jihoon chose to love you. You had always been quite guarded and rarely even told your parents you loved them before everything fell apart. But before you even started all this with Jihoon, when you were just friends he would always say he loved you when he would say goodbye.

“You’ve always loved me,” you whispered.

“I have always loved you, but now I’m hopelessly in love with you.” Your body feels warm at the idea of him being so in love with you.

Walking around you, he stands in front of you. He holds your face in both hands. Before he leans in to kiss you.

Pulling back he drops down to his knees and slides your thong down your thighs. Nudging your leg slightly apart. He presses a kiss to your mound. Glancing up at you through his lashes. You learned very early on once you and Jihoon started sleeping together he was very skilled with his tongue. This man easily knew how to make you fall apart with just tongue. His hands hold your thighs.

Fingers tangled in his hair as eats you out like a man starved. He fucks you with his tongue while his nose nudges your sensitive clit over and over again.

“Ji-“ you moan. He doesn’t say anything, he just glances up at you again. “Fuck-“ you whine desperately on the brink of falling apart. His hand grips your ass pulling you closer to him. One more brush of his nose against your clit sends you over the edge. Your eyes roll back in your head as a white hot wave washes over you.

Sitting back he smiles up at you. Wiping your release off his mouth with the back of his hand. Stepping back you sit on the edge of your bed trying to slowly come down from your high.

“I need you naked,” you sigh.

Standing up he does exactly what you asked him to. He pulls off his sweater and slowly unbuckles his belt. He stops as he starts to unbutton his jeans. “Are you enjoying the show?”

You stay silent and just bite your lips staring at him. He pushes his jeans down his strong thighs. You’ll never get over the sight of him naked. His beautiful skin on display and his taunt abs he’s gotten from his hour he’s spent at the gym with Soonyoung. His cock is just as beautiful as the rest of him.

“What do you want to do now?” He asked, walking towards you.

“I want to make you feel good like you just made me good.”

“I’m yours to do anything you want.”

Sitting on your hunches slowly you lick up his length. Slowly you pump the base while licking his flushed head. “You’re gonna be the death of me,” he moans. You were never a fan of giving head before you started seeing Jihoon. There was something about going down on him that turned you on. You couldn’t get enough of it now. There are some nights you’ll both just go down on each other and skip having sex.

One hand plays with his balls as you take him in your mouth. Your tongue dragging against the vein that runs underneath.

His hand pull your hair away from your face in a makeshift ponytail.

“Fuck-“ he moans. You glance up at him through your lashes. He looks like he’s on the brink of falling apart. “Baby you have to stop or I’m gonna cum in your mouth,” he gently pulls you off him. “I need to finish inside you.”

He takes your hand helping you up. Crawling onto the bed you lay in the middle spreading your legs. He hovers over you. He pushes into you, earning a gasp.

“You were made for me,” he moans, thrusting slowly.

“You feel so fucking good.”

Hooking your leg over his back, your heel rests just above his butt holding him closer to you. One hand talons into his shoulder while the other tangles in his hair. His nose is resting against yours. His lips are slightly parted as he slowly thrust into you.

“I love you,” you say the three words you often don’t say. If anyone is deserving of those words it’s the boy who has done nothing but made you know what it’s like to be loved.

“Say it again,” he moans.

“I love you Jihoon.” He picks up his pace moaning your name. Pushing on his chest he slows down and pulls his face away from you. “On your back please. I want to ride you.”

With little effort he flips you both over so he’s below you. Resting on your knees you ride him at a quicker speed. Reaching up he takes plays with your breast. Not missing an opportunity to tweak your nipples.

“I’m gonna-“ you whine.

“Are you going to come?” Desperately you nod unable to form words. “Come for me baby.”

Your hands rest on his chest as you pick up your speed. His finger finds your clit. He plays with it helping you fall apart.

“Can I come inside you?” He asks, approaching his own high.

“I need you to fill me up,” you whine.

“I’m gonna fill you up until it’s leaking out of you,” you love when he talks to you like this when he is desperate to come.

His final few thrust are sloppy before he paints your walls white. He shoots rope after rope, he doesn’t think he’s ever came this hard in his life.

You stop moving just enjoying the feeling of him still inside you. He sits up holding you close as he kisses you.

“I love you (YN).”

“I love you too.”

“I need to clean you up. I’m scared we’re gonna get cum on your bed.” You can’t help but smile at the fact he’s now worried about making a mess with his cum. Reaching over on your nightstand he grabs some tissues handing them to you. You crawl off of him and he immediately starts wiping away his cum that is already leaking out of you.

“Let’s shower,” you say.

That night everything changed but you knew it was for the better. You and Jihoon we’re officially together and it didn’t matter who knew.

[bobluvbot]

someone you loved

pairing: sirius black x f!reader  summary: your relationship with sirius hurt so much, that the only way forward was to forget. wc: 3k a/n: angst angst angst!!! lots of negative self talk and low self esteem, allusions to a bad childhood (not stated directly), implied emotional abuse & cheating, both sirius and reader are going through it.

snippets of his voice echo in your head like a haunting lullaby that doesn’t seem to end. its funny how the mind is known to block out the traumatic memories, but for some reason, yours kept record of the most painful ones that left his lips.

you’re just too much. 

i can’t love you the way you expect me to.

i’m ending this.

i’m sorry, but i can’t deal with this, with you, anymore.

it keeps repeating like a song once loved, now loathed left on repeat, and a stop button might be somewhere but you can’t bring yourself to turn it off. it reminds you of that habit you secretly developed when you had two large bruises on both your knees after a nasty fall, bone hitting pavement. nothing bled, which was a relief to the new babysitter as no bright band-aids would be blatant proof of her lack of attention on the kid she was supposed to keep watch on. blood kept within the skin, nothing left to do but to watch your body slowly take it back. you were curious of how the color changes each day, the angry reds bleeding into dark purples that resemble galaxies that you’d see on your astronomy books. one day spent examining your bruises again, you pressed on the reddish purple one too hard and tears spring up your eyes when the sting hits. but as it lingered and faded, a strange feeling of satisfaction replaced it, and you felt the urge to press on it again, curious to see if the same unknown feeling makes an appearance again. It does, and the fascination as you play in between the lines of pain and pleasure follows you as you grew up. Curious, you once read up on it from those muggle books, where you learn that the body itself releases pain-killing hormones that help relieve the perception of pain, leading to a temporary feeling of relief. 

you knew thinking about sirius’ words will never not hurt, will continue to bury you in a deepening hole that you have to fight to the nails to crawl out of, but you couldn’t stop. 

It gave deep seated satisfaction to that green monster in the back of your mind, responsible for only seeing the negative in each situation you find yourself in. ‘i told you so,’ it says in a tinny singsong voice, clearly pleased with each iteration of sirius’ words and the raw metal stabbing your heart each time.  

it also serves like a constant reminder of your failure. Failure to love like a decent person, failure to be the person that sirius needed, failure to gauge what was too much that the other person drowned without you knowing, failure to protect yourself and your dignity from being trampled on like nothing, and failure to just simply accept the fact that love just wasn’t made for people like you. 

being friends with lily made you forget a lot of things, fundamental parts that you realized so young. you knew better, should have after everything you’ve gone through, but somehow with her, anything seemed possible, achievable, tangible when you’re a kind person. marlene would always say, doing good things meant you can expect to receive good things back from the universe.

and for the most part it seemed to always work that way. you’d witnessed james nurture the simple appreciation he had on lily’s genuine smile at him that eased his nerves while they were in line to get sorted into houses throughout the years, growing as he’d gotten to know her innate kindness and wit, and finally erupting from him like rays of sunlight until he became brave enough to speak it out loud starting fourth year. 

Even though the marauders had acted questionably during their early years of exploring their pranking abilities, james had always been full of love. Never hesitating to share it to those he truly cared for. it took lily years to accept this, and more to gain courage and let herself experience it. 

by 7th year, you never believed a love could thrive like that whilst cradled with such young hands until you saw james and lily do it effortlessly. 

so what part of this could’ve made you think otherwise? 

were you to blame for believing in that fantasy, that something like this could be attainable for someone like you, too? 

you had always housed deep adoration and awe for sirius black, like many others, despite his wild reputation and scandalous rumors that seem to always follow when his name gets uttered.

why? Because he was once the raven haired boy who slipped the trolley witch a few sickles when he saw you return the pumpkin pasty after realizing you couldn’t afford it. 

it had been a gloomy tuesday. the trolley witch was supposed to go compartment by compartment, but the bumbling first years seemed to miss that memo and started piling up close to the cart to see what was being sold that she had to force them all in a line. you were quiet and unobtrusive as you stood patiently in line; which was nothing compared the boys’ raucous laughters and animated chatter behind you. sirius would’ve accidentally pushed or stepped on you if he didn’t see your figure. the train was loud and so was james’ mouth, so excited to be away from his parents and to have his first official Hogwarts friend, but sirius also stood close enough to you that he could hear your stomach grumbling and see your arms crossed over your midsection. he admitted once that he found the gurgling sounds funny (like an eleven year old would do) but he didn’t have the heart to poke fun at you because he remembered he’d hear the same thing from his own when his parents would send him to bed without eating. 

even before your turn, you were already overwhelmed at the amount of food and candy available, none of which sounds or looks remotely familiar to what you’ve had growing up. your heartbeat picked up when you heard loud sighs, feet tapping impatiently (both James) snorting and shushing (sirius), and just grabbed something that resembled bread, quickly apologizing to the witch that gave you a kind smile. you hadn’t eaten anything as you rushed to pack the mismatched, secondhand supplies that the headmaster had sent you, and you were dropped off to the station just in time before the train left. your fingers trembled in excitement to finally eat and in hunger as you fished out your coin purse. It took a few seconds before it sunk in that you don’t have enough to buy your pasty. How embarassing. 

You swallowed your tears back, willing the hateful voice in your head to keep quiet for a minute or two, just enough time to put back the pasty and run to your deserted compartment, where you could freely go to town beating yourself up for your stupidity. Just quick enough so no one will notice. 

It took three deep breaths before the dam opened, for the tears to run uncontrollably down your cheeks. You couldn’t even wipe it off because your hands were still clutching your stomach, trying to ease the growling, gnawing pain. Pathetic.

The compartment door opened and you didn’t even hear someone clearing their throat, only looking up when a hand dropped three pasties, a chocolate frog, and a bottle of pumpkin juice on your lap. Barely balancing it, you looked up to see who took pity on you, but only caught a glimpse of stark raven hair and alabaster skin.

you’d find him later during sorting, squeezed between three boys that couldn’t seem to shut up about what house they thought the other would go. not used to kindness, much less from a complete stranger, you hesitated approaching him. but fate always had a weird way of showing you it does listen to your wishes once in a while and you found yourself later on, scooting a bit to your left to make space for him on the bench of your shared house. you both exchanged a knowing smile, and you’d always remember him like that. The kind boy who gave you a feast even without knowing who you were. 

you’d remember that boy when the pouring rain had finally soaked through your thick coat as you waited patiently for him at madam puddifoot’s on your first Valentine’s day. Despite the fact that he was already two hours late and the cafe would be closing soon, you chose to wait. 

you’d remember that kind boy when some mean ravenclaw girls in class would pick on you for the most absurd things, embarrassment coursing through your veins as you looked back at him desperately for some reprieve, only for him to avoid your gaze and continue to guffaw at something James said, effectively ignoring your existence. 

You once asked him why. It was embarrassing how quick he figured out what you were really asking. In fact, he knew a lot of things: that he didn’t deserve your love (or anyone’s for that matter), that someone as pure and selfless as you shouldn’t even associate with the likes of him, and that he was aware of every single thing he does that shatters you whole. He knew that he should tread this conversation gently, to not let his claws rip further skin more than he already has, but the Black darkness has its way of slithering out of the deep recesses he tries to bury it in. 

Words leave him exasperatedly, like he’s not spouting words that cut through skin. “I’d been clear to you right from the start, of what I can give you and what I can’t. You knew what you were getting into, Y/N. you put this onto yourself.” 

He storms back into his dorm before he could hear your quiet sobs echo through the empty common room. 

—-

lily knew in the back of her mind that this wasn’t just a simple, silly request now, but more of an obligation to her closest friend. 

it’s been three weeks. three excruciating weeks to be handed and given and filled with so much love she didn’t need to ask for, whilst seeing her best friend chip away with the lack of, like a once-bright porcelain doll that was abandoned and exposed to the direct heat of the sun. 

you had finally gone silent by last week, like a shut door. refusing to eat, go to class, speak—- hell, lily bets, if you could also not breathe by choice, you wouldn’t. It’s like youre keeping everything you once had given to the world thoughtlessly, close. Dorcas thinks you were keeping close to heart the mundane things that make you alive, to remind yourself that you still are. She had said, like air to a balloon. lily cried herself to sleep that night, the thought of losing such a fundamental part of her life, you, inch by inch, day by day, in front of her very eyes was a haunting, damning thought. Something that she and you both thought would come so much more years later, with unsurmountable memories, many glasses of champagne and slices of cake, wrinkles and smile lines, more laughter and loving hugs exchanged. 

she had thought the silence was a welcoming sign of change. A necessary step towards acceptance and moving on. she was relieved when your crying stopped, tremors leaving your fingers, and there was a chance again for the redness to vacate the whites of your eyes. She held hope that she and the girls can start working on instilling your light back, hopeful that a few months from now their star can find its way back to its rightful place in the sky and everything could be okay once again. 

Lily looked forward to nights that were filled by snores and shuffling of sheets, not the unmistakable sound of your feet on the wooden floors, misjudging that everyone was asleep, the muffled creak of the dorm room door opening and closing, and your footsteps fading in the dark. She’d wait fifteen to thirty minutes (the longest was an hour or two on the first night) before she’d hear you return, footsteps still light but she could hear the slight drag in each step, almost as if it was taking so much of your might to even make it to the bed. the quiet whimpers would start, followed by muffled hiccups lily knew only happens when you cry too hard. it took so much of her to exercise self-restraint, to keep herself on her own bed and not lay beside you and hug you as if it’s something that could put you back together. 

She has to turn her back on you even if it felt like raw betrayal. 

Because that one time she didn’t, she couldn’t forget the look of horror, dejection, desperation, and pure unbridled embarrassment on your face when you realized she knew what you were up to late at night. She knew you came up to the boys’ dormitory, crawling into sirius’ bed, where you begged and begged for him to take you back, that you’ll be a better more doting and loving girlfriend this time around, that you won’t be too attached this time and will give him the necessary space and time he needs so he doesn’t feel suffocated, that you’ll be anything, do anything just for him to welcome you back into his arms and whisper sweet nothings in your ear until your throat was raw, and sirius has to physically take you back to the start of the staircase to your dormitory. 

this happened for days and days on end until the boys had to lock their door at night, or whenever sirius is in. 

james couldn’t meet lily’s eyes when he’d ask for her help to keep you apart from Sirius as it would do you no good. they had gotten into a fight because of this, because lily heard nothing but  ‘stop her from making a fool of herself’ and her best friend is the smartest intuitive empathetic kindest witch she had ever met; the farthest thing from a fool. 

But one day those very words came off your lips with a hollow laugh. “But I am a fool, Lily. No one in their right mind would even do half the things I do.” It would be hypocritical for lily to deny sneaking out at night and crawling into your ex’s bed and begging for him to take you back as something of a desperate fool would do. A girl once had chased and pined for Remus during the entirety of fifth year and the things she did to get his attention were laughable at that time. But she didn’t plan to see the same, even worse, done by her best friend, and she still couldn’t wouldn’t call you a fool.

After all, your only fault was that you loved. And that shouldn’t even be a fault because that’s what she did with James, marlene with dorcas, her father with her mother. even someone as selfish as petunia could find love and be loved right back. 

you of all people deserved to love and be loved right back after everything you’d been through, and james would say the same thing for sirius as well. 

but sirius was a complex person, lily could recite this on top of her head from endless times where you stood your ground, defending sirius’ honor like he’d see your great martyrdom and suddenly consider you once again worthy of his love and affection. Before, she knew of sirius as a friend and James’ brother— but she knew more than what she signed up for because you’d fill in the gaps for her when she’d try to beat some sense into you during the unacceptable treatment you’d accept from sirius. 

You’d say with such confidence “he loves me, he’s just going through a lot right now, especially after that howler his mother sent him a few days ago.”

You didn’t have to elaborate, lily remembered that day vividly, not because of the way sirius’ face fell when the howler began its assault had reminded her so much of how she’d react after getting bitter letters from petunia, but because that same day she saw sirius being manhandled by a hufflepuff, both kiss sick and all over each other, into a secluded broom closet. 

It was years worth of push or pulls, of moral dilemmas that would get the outspoken redhead to choke on her words, and dejectedly sweep them under the rug out of your sight. Because the beaming smile and flushed cheeks you’d sport when Sirius murmurs sweet nothings in your ear, the weight on your shoulders dissipating when tucked in his arms, the jump in your step whenever he’d kiss you on the forehead and wish you good luck for the day— Lily couldn’t bear the thought of robbing you with those moments of bliss, even when it’s all done in private. 

So in an empty classroom on a gloomy Tuesday afternoon, she points her wand at you, fingers trembling and tears trailing down her cheeks, but you don’t see any of these. Instead, your beautiful features wear a serene expression that weakens lily’s knees. Oh how she missed her dearest friend. She’d do anything in the world to get you back, hold your hand, and dance with you in the autumn rain. 

So she does the wand movement like she practiced for days and takes a breath. She pictures you and Sirius happily dancing barefoot during the yule ball, your blushed cheeks when you told her about the feel of his lips on yours for the first time, you on sirius’ shoulders as you carried the quidditch cup, both smiling big as remus snaps a picture from the muggle camera, you drifting off to sleep on sirius’ shoulder while your hands were laced as you rode the train back to hogwarts.

Before mumbling the incantation, obliviate.

[canary3d-obsessed]

Restless Rewatch: The Untamed Episode 41, part three

(Masterpost) (Pinboard)  (whole thing on AO3)

Warning! Spoilers for All 50 Episodes!

Brotherhood of Man

Somehow, after the multi-layered shit sandwich of betrayal that happened in Nightless City, Lan Xichen manages to convince his two besties to swear brotherhood with him and each other. Lan Xichen's Polyamory 101 class apparently didn't tell him that forcing a vee to become a three-for-all is a bad idea. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are bonded by only two things: 1. loving Lan Xichen 2. hating each other.

Nie Mingjue is great at letting bygones be bygones, as we can tell as he glares all the way through Jin Guangyao's skull.

Next we jump to Lan Xichen and Jin Guangyao playing the song of clarity for Nie Mingjue, with Lan Xichen in a particularly sexy set of ultra-fancy robes.

NMJ keeps his eyes shut so he won't have to see the extreme eye fucking that's going on right in front of his salad.

Check out his cool candle holders, by the way.

I can't help but think...is this how Lan Xichen is spending his time while Lan Wangji is in forced seclusion? Lan Xichen didn't attack any elders, so there's no reason he shouldn't be enjoying himself, but he's gone all in on the fuckboy life while his brother is seriously struggling. The Lan brothers seem a lot less close after Wei Wuxian's death interlude and I wonder if this is part of the reason.

(More behind the cut!)

We take a tiny break from empathy during this section so that Lan Wangji can check Wei Wuxian's qi.

He does, and goes to play healing for him. He does not react like WWX is lacking a core, despite doing the magic wrist check that would tip him off if that were the case, so I add this to the pile of evidence that WWX 2.0 does have a (shitty) core in his new body.

I like this little scene because Lan Wangji is clearly worried, emotional, upset - he's doing his little sour-lemon frown and he's intensely focused on Wei Wuxian while he plays healing - but he's not trying to wake him, and he doesn't say anything about his own concerns once Wei Wuxian is awake.

Grown-up Lan Wangji is still not a fan of these unorthodox cultivation activities, but he respects WWX's choices and focuses on supporting him, not stopping him.

Play Misty For Me

Next, empathy shows us Jin Guangyao playing for Nie Mingjue in a 1-on-1 session in JinLintai. I guess this is like dialysis, where Nie Mingjue has to waste a shit ton of time going back and forth between home and JinLinTai to get cleansed.

It seems like Lan Xichen could have picked a better person to train in playing the song of clarity. I know Nie Huaisang's wussy core might make him a poor candidate, but surely there's someone in Qinghe who could do the job? Or send a series of Lan disciples in an exchange student arrangement? But Lan Xichen would rather force these guys to hang out together.

Lan Xichen may seem like he's being wilfully blind, or plain stupid, but I don't think that's what he's about. He's aware that both of these guys are, from a certain point of view, bad people. Nie Mingjue is driven by rage and a rigid sense of justice and social hierarchy; Jin Guangyao is consumed with self-interest and will use any means to achieve his ends.

Good guys Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji will also use any means to achieve their ends - attacking elders, raising the dead, and whatnot. What all four of these not-Lan Xichen people have in common is that they go to extremes, too high or too low, there ain't no in-betweens.

Out of the darkness, into the light Leaving the scene of the crime Either I'm wrong or I'm perfectly right Every time

Sorry, but Billy Joel is part of my cultural heritage as a Gen X person.

Lan Xichen embodies a combination of Confucian and Buddhist values, I think; he wants the people he cares about to chill the fuck out and find the middle way, and also to be truly brotherly toward each other. He tries to achieve this through gentle nagging and also by modeling the behavior he wants to see, creating opportunities for peace and balance. Unfortunately at the time Empathy is showing us, he's unware how extreme and unbalanced his own feelings for Jin Guangyao really are.

At some point, Jin Guangyao starts playing the altered version of the music, and we have a series of kind of weird cuts where 1. the Song of Fuck You is playing on the soundtrack while Lan Xichen is teaching Jin Guangyao 2. NMJ starts to hork up some blood in the 1-on-1 session but finishes horking in the trio session. I think this is meant to show that it was a progression.

Meet Me Outside

Empathy jumps ahead to Lan Xichen trying to warn Jin Guangyao about Nie Mingjue's declining temperament, saying that if it wasn't for JGY playing for him every day, it would be super bad, or words to that effect. He is interrupted by Nie Mingjue showing up to yell at Jin Guangyao. Was Nie Mingjue eavesdropping so that his head could recall this later in Empathy?

I'm inclined to see the dynamic among the three of them at this point through a lens of domestic violence. Lan Xichen stands by helplessly while Nie Mingjue makes it clear that he's in a rage and wants to take it out on Jin Guangyao; JGY calmly tells Lan Xichen to stay behind while he goes outside to take a beating. That's not just optics; Nie Mingjue attacks him the moment they're alone. The fact that NMJ is drunk on resentment is only partly the fault of Jin Guangyao's musical poison; a lot of it is his own choice to do saber cultivation.

Lan Xichen may remember similar interactions with his parents. He's certainly having a trauma reaction instead of stepping into this situation from a place of strength. He's protected Jin Guangyao from NMJ before without any difficulty, but the changes in NMJ's temperament and possibly the loss of Lan Wangji's companionship have put him in a weaker state of mind, it seems. And he himself may have been the target of Nie Mingjue's anger at times, too.

The Ragening

After dodging the first swing from Nie Mingjue, Jin Guangyao asks him why he's mad. The gist of NMJ's beef is this: Xue Yang escaped from the unclean realm. NMJ (correctly) blames JGY. Now Xue Yang is imprisoned by Jin Guangshan after a trial or something, in which Chang Ping retracted his earlier accusation. So they can't execute Xue Yang because there's no evidence against him. (Why can they imprison him for life with no evidence, then? Seems sketchy).

Nie Mingjue says that Xue Yang has a piece of Yin metal, and that's why Jin Guangshan is keeping him alive. JGY doesn't affirm or deny this, but he has to obey his dad, so he can't kill Xue Yang just to please Nie Mingjue.

Nie Mingjue tells him to stop doing that thing he does.

You Doing that thing you do Breakin' my heart into a million pieces Like you always do And you Don't mean to be cruel You never even knew about the heartache I've been going through

Jin Guangyao has to intuit what Nie Mingjue is talking about, which is apparently that JGY is being calculating and manipulative.

He proceeds to rip NMJ a new one for believing that everyone can be as rigteous as him when he has his noble birth and high cultivation to depend on. JGY points out that he himself doesn't have early cultivation training or a good family background to draw on. He also gives us a little bit of specific info about his position in the clan, saying that Jin Zixuan's death didn't give him a clear path; Jin Guangshan would rather bring back another bastard son than allow Jin Guangyao to succeed him.

Presumably he's talking about Mo Xuanyu. Before you feel sorry for JGY, remember that he caused Jin Zixuan's death specifically so he could claim his place in the line of succession.

Nie Mingjue says, dismissively, that he's only refusing to kill Xue Yang because he doesn't want to risk his position in the clan. Nie Mingjue says this like it's a bad thing: like Jin Guangyao, who he fired quite a while ago and totally doesn't work for him, should go against his father's express orders and kill a guy, without evidence, because Nie Mingjue thinks that would be more righteous. I gotta say, Nie Mingjue is a real piece of work.

Nie Mingjue acknowledges that he himself has killed a fuckton of people, but never for his own advancement. Jin Guangyao challenges him with words that have a little flavor of Wei Wuxian's way of thinking: did everyone you've killed deserve it? Are your standards fair?

Then he heads firmly back into villain territory by saying "sacrifices must be made for greatness" which has Nie Mingjue asking why he doesn't sacrifice himself, instead of killing other people? (Shades of WWX challenging Wen Zhuliu) Jin Guangyao replies with an emphatic nope, which inspires Nie Mingjue to kick him down the stairs and attribute his poor character to his mom's line of work, for not the first time. If I was in charge of Jinlintai, I would put a safety gate up there.

The bottom of these stairs is kind of an important place for Jin Guangyao; he's been kicked down them twice (that we know of) and each time he stood up 100% ready to kill the guy at the top of the stairs. Although he took a super long time to actually do it in the case of his dad, I'm pretty sure JGS's fate was sealed in that moment....just like Nie Mingjue's is sealed here.

Side note: In the show, JGY starts musically poisoning NMJ while they are still ostensibly getting along fine, whereas in the book he waits until NMJ has kicked him down the stairs and insulted his mom. CQL Jin Guangyao is just more forward-thinking, I guess.

After fixing his hat, Jin Guangyao walks up the stairs calmly explaining to Nie Mingjue how he fucked with the song of cleansing. This causes Nie Mingjue to qi deviate while the Department of Questionable Visual Effects messes around with extra copies of Jin Guangyao in AfterFX.

Not to be outdone, the Department of Questionable Practical Effects has loaded up the front of Nie Mingjue's torso with exploding blood squibs, because apparently that is how they interpret "all his meridians were broken." (We won't talk about the various non-cultivation-aware translations that say "all his veins were broken.")

Nie Huaisang shows up - running up all of the steps at Jinlintai. From where? Did he run from Qinghe? How did he know Nie Mingjue was in trouble? If Lan Xichen told him, why isn't he here too? Presumably he is still busy checking the guest list for the next conference, per JGY's request.

Jin Guangyao grabs Nie Huaisang and holds him out of harms way while vigorously pretending to be upset while Nie Mingjue points his saber at them. Nie Huaisang interprets this as NMJ not recognizing him (and if you've seen Fatal Journey, you know this is a fair interpretation) but it might be that he's pointing it at JGY to encourage him to let NHS go.

This Is The End

Next we see NMJ all tied up on a table in Jinlintai, with corpse poisoning marks on his neck. Someday I will learn exactly when these happen, what they mean, and how everyone who has them gets them, but today is not that day. (Remember when Wen Qing got them while WWX was playing angry flute at the rocks behind Qinghe, and then they went away when he stopped playing? And how this was never explained?) Xue Yang is walking around him with Baxia and half of the yin tiger seal. He can't control him without the whole seal so JGY says to kill him.

In case all of Xue Yang's behavior seems super random, it's actually not; his project is turning high-level cultivators into controllable fierce corpses. Where Wei Wuxian controlled his fierce corpse Wen Ning with kindness and turnips, Xue Yang uses fancy brain nails. With Nie Mingjue, he presumably hadn't developed the technique yet, which is why they can't subdue him to use him. And he failed to get the nails into Xiao Xingchen or Wei Wuxian's heads. So basically the entire project was a bust, given that he didn't deploy Wen Ning for anything, and Song Lan just followed him around an empty town. This is what happens when you get too attached to a particular creative vision.

Camera Operator: hey now!

Xue Yang uses Baxia to chop Nie Mingjue's head off, which has to piss Baxia off. Xue Yang says Nie Mingjue is finally obedient, which is only sort of true, since he'll be coming back for revenge in sword-spirit form in the live action, or in naked dismembered corpse form in every other version of the story.

Friendly Neighborhood Paperman

This murder causes Wei Wuxian to snap out of empathy back into his paperman body, and accidentally pull NMJ's head's eye covers off, revealing eyes that don't look a goddamn thing like actor Wang Yizhou's eyes, but this head has had a rough few years.

Jin Guangyao is right there in the storeroom with him; it's a good thing he didn't think to have one of his chats with NMJ's head during the 30 minutes WWX spent communing with it. He chases Paperman around slashing his sword through the furniture and knocking shit over.

Among JGY's many evil traits, perhaps the worst is the way he wastes storage space. Look at all these shelves with 2 or 3 books on them.

Paperman makes his way over to Suibian where it's displayed on a shelf, and hops onto its hilt while JGY watches. He smirks at WWX's failure to draw the sword, but eventually Paper WWX does draw it, surprising JGY. Suibian fights him remotely for a bit while WWX gets away and makes his way back to Lan Wangji.

Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji trade arm clasps while Wei Wuxian gives him a sitrep, and then they run off to find Nie Mingjue's head.

Because there is no limit to Wei Wuxian's sex appeal, Lan Wangji instantly beats up everyone who gets in his sweetie's way. Lan Xichen shows up, a little alarmed at the attacks on the guards but still on board with their plan.

Lan Xichen deploys his most dramatic stair-climbing flourish to show that he means business.

Eventually Jin Guangyao shows up, and they ask to see his secret chamber. Jin Guangyao tries to explain that it's not, like, a secret chamber any more if you let people come in and look at it.

Apparently there IS a limit to Jin Guangyao's sex appeal, because Lan Xichen puts his foot down for the very first time and tells him, not asks him, to open the room.

...while Wei Wuxian smirks like a kid whose sibling is the one getting yelled at for a change.

Before Jin Guangyao can answer, Su She shows up, saying it's not cool to demand entry to a clan leader's bed chamber, as if Lan Xichen didn't have his own embroidered bathrobe alredy hanging on a hook in there.

Lan Wangji and Su She greet each other nastily, and Wei Wuxian calls him out for copying Lan Wangji, which ends the episode.

Soundtrack: I Go To Extremes by Billy Joel, That Thing You Do from the movie That Thing You Do

Bonus: Liu Haikuan's beautiful hand

[torukmaktoskxawng]

Could you do 57, 65, and 69 for Neteyam x Metkayina reader who assists tsireya and aonung in teaching the sullys but while doing so she wants to also learn their ways :) Oh! And how about Reader making traditional courting jewelry for Neteyam (after asking for help from Jake and Neytiri duhh)

#57: Validation/Affirmation/Identity, #65: Promise/Pinky Swear, #69: You Remembered

Pairing: Neteyam/Metkayina!Fem!Reader

Warnings: identity crisis, fluff, blood, time skips, near-death experience, young love

Taglist: @neteyamsl0ver @mooniequeen

A/N: I do apologize if I don't fulfill the full request since I had a similar prompt for Lo'ak and I didn't want the brothers to have similar stories. Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~

While Lo'ak, Kiri, and Tuk adapted and thrived in Awa'atlu, Neteyam wasn't as successful. 

As the firstborn and brought up as the once-future olo'eyktan, Neteyam was raised off of Omatikaya culture and nothing else. He was raised to be a warrior and a leader, taught by the many other leaders of his clan. Both his parents and his grandmother taught him everything they knew and more. He loved it and was passionate about his people's lifestyle, so he struggled to learn anything else, much like his mother.

Both Neytiri and her oldest felt so out of place among the Metkayina, always homesick and mourning their former lives, now changed forever. Now that Tarsem replaced Jaked as the Omatikaya's chief, Neytiri would no longer be tsahik after Mo'at and Neteyam would never become olo'eyktan. Everything he was taught, all that hard work and striving for perfection... no longer mattered. 

Neteyam felt as though he didn't belong among the reef people, but his siblings clearly weren't in the same boat. Tsireya was an excellent teacher and Lo'ak clung to every word she said. It also didn't hurt how close he had gotten with the chief's daughter to the point where he was always given one-on-one lessons with her. Once Ao'nung and Lo'ak got over their differences, they actually became good friends and Rotxo was never far behind. 

Neteyam's sisters also thrived in Awa'atlu and found friends in Rotxo, Ao'nung, and Tsireya. To none of the Sullys' surprise, Kiri was a natural swimmer and deep-diver who barely struggled with holding her breath. And while Tuk was young and inexperienced, she was still young enough to relearn how to survive and adapt to this new lifestyle. By the time she's Neteyam's age, she'll be a far more skilled Metkayina than her older brother could ever hope to be.

It was such an uncommon feeling-- for Neteyam to be the odd one out. He had always fit in with the people around him, while his siblings... not so much, but he never loved them less for it and he always tried to understand their emotions. Now, finally, he fully understood how they felt to be the outsider. 

Those thoughts always vanish, however, whenever he is in your presence. 

Adamant on teaching the Sully children alongside Tsireya, you had grown fond of Neteyam almost immediately. At first, you spent one-on-one time to help him catch up with his siblings' progress. As his teacher, Neteyam found that he was able to focus and absorb the information whenever it was just you and him. He learned how to hold his breath underwater, ride an ilu, the sign language, the tulkun songs, and it was all because of you, his savior. 

As your friendship bloomed, Neteyam opened up more about his clan and their way of life, which always piqued your interest. By the time he came to terms with his feelings for you, he also began to share his inner thoughts, how he initially felt like an outsider among the Metkayina and a little envious of his siblings since they managed to adapt so quickly. 

"That is ridiculous," you scoff good-naturedly as you sit beside him on the beach one night, "You will always be the son of Toruk Makto, but you are also one of us now. There's no shame in missing what you lost back home. Your friends, your status, and the life you loved, but that doesn't mean you can't love the new life you're starting here. There's no harm in change. Take the ocean for example."

He watches as you dip your hand into the wet sand, letting the shallow water spill into the crevice of your palm. The glowing algae once swimming in the water now swirled in your hand in a way Neteyam could only imagine pixie dust would look like based on his father's stories from Earth. 

You lift your hand up and watch as the glowing water falls through the cracks of your fingers, shimmering as it splashes back down into the ocean, "It's always changing and it never stays in one place. When the tide takes you out, you're not supposed to fight it. You have to swim alongside it or you will drift away. Do not fight change, Neteyam. Let it happen. Your brother mentioned a saying from the Sky People and I think perfectly encapsulates what I am trying to say. 'Go with the flow.'"

You weren't expecting the laugh that jostles from Neteyam's chest, but you welcomed it all the same, smiling victoriously at getting him to laugh. It was a deep sound in his throat, and he looked so free and relaxed, the sight made your stomach warm. Once he recovers, he smiles back at you, loosely and genuinely.

"Thank you, Y/n."

You nod, jutting your chin out with confidence, "Just wait. You'll be a warrior among us sooner than later, just as you are with the Omatikaya. I am sure of it."

"Pinky swear?"

Your brow ridge furrows, tilting your head in confusion, "What?"

"Oh, right," Neteyam breathes a small laugh as a thought dawns on him, "It's a human thing. Alien custom. You link your smallest fingers together to form a sacred vow-- a promise, and after that, you can't break it. It works for people with extra fingers, like Lo'ak and Kiri. Our father taught us."

He clenches one hand into a fist except for the last finger, his smallest. You stare oddly at his hand before staring down at your own, mimicking the same movement and pointing only with your smallest finger, "What happens if you break the promise?"

"... You know, I don't actually know," Neteyam sheepishly admits, bowing his head to hide the embarrassment on his face, "My father can be timid sometimes so I just never bothered to find out."

You hum but don't question it further, allowing Neteyam to lock your small fingers together. Despite the weird custom, it made your face warm to feel the heat of his body so close to yours, your fingers linked together to seal a sacred vow. 

~~~~~~~~~

As this unspoken thing progressed between you and Neteyam, the Sky People were closing in on the Sullys' location. Eventually, war came to the reef and you and the other reef children got caught up in it after following Lo'ak and his siblings to save Payakan. Things took a turn for the worse and suddenly you find yourself kneeling on a slippery rock surface before Neteyam, desperately trying to help Lo'ak as you both press your hands into the older boy's chest to stop the bleeding. The sight haunted you as Neteyam's eyes wildly looked around, appearing unable to focus on just one person as he struggled to breathe, his body going into shock. He was shivering from head to toe but not quite cold, gasping for breath even though he wasn't drowning. Even as tears blurred your vision, you didn't dare draw your hands away, stomping down the fear of losing Neteyam and instead replacing that fear with determination to save him. 

You, Lo'ak, and the human known as Spider worked as a team, following Toruk Makto's instructions and doing whatever Tsireya told you to do with her knowledge of healing. By the time Neytiri had managed to find her family in the chaos of the battlefield, the bleeding had begun to slow. Even though you had saved Neteyam a little more time, you weren't out of the woods yet. Neteyam needed real healing from Ronal and at the same time, Kiri and Tuk needed rescuing from the ship of metal the Sky People sailed on. Both Sully parents were conflicted about what they should do until you and Tsireya took control of the situation. Together, you two convinced Jake and Neytiri to go rescue their daughters while you swore to take the unconscious Neteyam back to the village. They expressed their gratitude before taking off, and then Lo'ak and Spider helped you and Tsireya get Neteyam onto an ilu. You girls took Neteyam to Ronal while the boys stayed behind, not wanting to go back until they knew Kiri and Tuk had been safely rescued. 

The rest of the Sullys returned to Awa'atlu hours later, tired but mostly unharmed and desperate to see their son and brother. To their shared relief, you and Tsireya had brought Neteyam to the tsahik just in time, and Ronal held Neytiri after the crying mother was reassured that her son would live.

It was hard for you to visit Neteyam as time went on. He had woken up a week after the Sky People were defeated, but he was constantly surrounded by his family so you didn't think your presence was needed. You didn't want to crowd him any more than he already was, constantly looked after by his loved ones while he healed. It was torture for you, knowing that he was safe but still haunted by the memory of his blood on your hands. You hadn't seen him in so long and you needed to be sure he was whole and on the way to recovery. You needed to see him with your own two eyes and so finally, you gained the courage to approach Toruk Makto and his mate.

After everything you have done for Neteyam and their family, Jake and Neytiri were more than happy to make sure you had some time alone with Neteyam to talk and catch up. They took their other children away for the afternoon and flashed you small smiles of encouragement, silently offering some good luck. 

Neteyam looked up from his cot upon hearing the sound of someone entering his family's kelku, and seemed genuinely surprised by who stood in the doorway, "Y/n?"

You faintly smile, his voice saying your name sounded like a soft lullaby you haven't heard in so long. You move over to the cot and kneel before him, scanning his face. Apart from the bandages wrapped around his chest, he looked like himself, "You look better."

You immediately flush with embarrassment when those words leave your lips and you instantly backtrack, "I mean-- I just-- I'm glad that you are on the mend."

Instead of appearing offended, Neteyam's forehead wrinkles as he peers up at you with concern in his voice, "Where have you been? I was worried."

Both happiness and shame battle in your gut, touched that he was worried about you but guilty for not seeing him sooner to ease both of your pain. You lower your voice to a whisper, bringing your hand to brush a braid out of his face, "I'm sorry. I didn't think you needed someone else at your bedside. You have so many people who love you and want to see you get better, so I wanted to give you some air to breathe. I'm sorry. I won't do that again unless you ask me."

He catches the hand you used to push aside his braid and takes your fingers in his before you can pull away, bringing your hand to rest on the side of his face. He leans into your palm, murmuring against your skin, "I missed you."

"I missed you, too," you exhale shakily, tears beginning to brim in your eyes, but they were out of joy and relief, "I... I'm so happy you're awake. I have something for you."

You don't pull your hand away, wanting to keep touching Neteyam's face, his skin warm and alive beneath yours. You use your free hand to grab the item you placed on the floor beside you and hold it up for the forest boy to see. Neteyam tilts his head up to take a look and his eyes widen in shock. 

Beads carved from trees, not shells, the fiber stripped from plants on land, not from the seaweed floating underwater. All of it was woven into an intricately made armband that was clearly inspired by Omatikaya fashion. 

You place the band in Neteyam's free hand, his eyes still wide as his thumb traced over the pattern. He wets his bottom lip and blinks, still shocked while trying to form words, "What...?"

"I hope it's to your liking," you explain even as the heat rises to your face, "Your mother and father helped me make it."

Whatever you said must have been the right answer as a smile suddenly blooms on Neteyam's mouth, "It reminds me of my clan. Of home."

He could only describe whatever he was feeling in his chest as warmth and love, taking over whatever soreness he was still feeling from his wound. He looks away from the armband and peers up at you with a wordless question in his eyes. Warmth spreads in his stomach when you understand his silent question and you assist him in putting on the armband without another word. It fit perfectly on him, and it was even better knowing that you made it. 

"Thank you, ma'tìyawn. This means so much to me," his head and ears began to lower in shame, "I'm sorry I didn't make anything for you."

"It's alright," you whisper gently, swallowing a small cry that threatens to escape as you shakily exhale, "I... I would rather have you alive than a piece of jewelry."

He immediately moves to comfort you, staying on his back knowing that his mother would scold him but taking your hand in his once again and placing a kiss in the center of your palm, "Once I'm healed, I would like to ask your family for their permission to court you officially. I want to make proper jewelry for you, one that perfectly resembles your own clan."

A darker shade of blue crept over your face but you were too happy to notice, bashful yet relieved that your feelings were reciprocated, "Once you are healed, you can do so."

"And... And I want to take you back to the forests where I grew up," he admits quietly, "I want to introduce you to the Omatikaya, all my friends and family back home. I don't think we would be able to stay there because of the war, but I want to bring you for a visit."

You beam with wonder and excitement, stomach flipping at the thought of future plans being made with your young lover, "I would love to go meet your clan. We will go when there is time."

Then, you lift a hand up to him, pointing out the last finger on your hand as you confidently declare, "Pinky promise."

His expression melts into a sweet, fond smile, carefully lifting his hand up and linking your smallest fingers together, "You remembered..."

~~~~~~~~~

MASTERLIST

REQUESTS

[rocky-the-rockstar]

Not to yap about something almost completely irrelevant in 2024, but people on tiktok been pissing me off, so in PASSIONATE defense of Danger Days: I think it's really stupid when people feel the need to "defend" their dislike of the album by claiming that MCR somehow "betrayed" their audience by creating it. I heavily relate to the feeling of hating something because it's different from what I've grown to love and expect from a title, but that doesn't make that thing "wrong" or even bad. I can imagine how it felt to be so excited for new music only to not like it, but it can be left at "it sounds so different and therefore not my vibe and Im disappointed" without trying to accuse and vilify the artists.

Before he is an "emo icon" and even before he's a musician, Gerard Way is first and foremost a story writer and an artist. MCR has always existed to tell a story, spread a message, and be an artistic outlet. Which Danger Days does beautifully and creatively. Black Parade's story, hell even stuff like the I'm Not Ok music video etc etc, had themes of hope as well. While stronger and louder in Danger Days, it still wasn't a new thing by any means. It's by far their most political album, it's not like they "sanitized" themselves. It may be in a totally different sounding, less angsty, brightly colored package but "fight against those who hate and try to change you, live on and be ok after those you idolized and loved die, and create something good by being yourself" was not at all a new message from them. MCR's album world building, lore, detail, characters, and storytelling may quite literally be at its peak with Danger Days. Hell they even created a separate EP to make songs as a fictional band of side characters in the danger days universe so they could show you what kind of music the killjoys were listening to.

They gave us this whole fictional world to play with, that's not the act of sell outs who didn't care anymore, that's the act of an artist trying to share a part of themselves with you. That's the act of nerds and roleplayers trying to invite you into a self indulgent escape from reality.

A direct follow up to the Black Parade never would have worked. Trying to carry on a similar vibe immediately after the success of the Black Parade never would have worked. Both in terms of success and authenticity. The best and most creatively fulfilling option was to pivot entirely. They clearly knew and cared about this. Gerard said his heart wasn't creatively in the Paper Kingdom, he said there wasn't enough emotion in Conventional Weapons, he said that the "gothic vampire look" was no longer seen as "scary" and unsettling so they dropped it cuz they didn't wanna be "sexy vampires", the band broke up because "it wasn't fun anymore" Danger Days WAS an act of preserving their artistic vision and enjoyment of the band.

Gerard has always rejected labels, both on the band and himself. You can dislike Danger Days all you want for sounding so different, no one cares, but bands are allowed to experiment and the emotions they sing about are allowed to grow and change. Slapping a label on them and then turning your nose up in disgust and anger at anything they create for you that "isn't emo enough" and doesn't fit in the box you put them in is stupid. And, crazy enough, is one of the points OF the album.

[kanmom51]

PJM2 is coming

MUSE

I literally cannot contain my excitiement.

Sitting her, at work may I say, putting these words on paper, so to speak, because f***ing hell, wtf JM?

Where to start?

The colour concepts? The choice of name? Choice of font (That JM popping to eye)? The flower? The links to TTU (notes sheet and flower)? The whole play with Closer than this? The dropped lyrics?

This man is a friggin genius (not that we didn't know this already)...

There is so much to talk about, and he hasn't even started with the promotions, and we haven't even seen the concept photos or the album and the songs. Name, colours, 2 lines of lyrics and we have our hands full already. They certainly know what they are doing.

Before I jump in, I want to, once again, state very loudly and clearly that everything written here are my opinions, which are based on what we've been handed so far, and could change the more we are shown.

So, let's get it...

JM fetching this from the purple locker (which we don't see are purple off the bat and only when the lights turn on). Notes for The Truth Untold.

His wittle thumb with his crescent moon.

The notes title : La lettra - The letter. Hmm... interesting.

And then this:

We have the flower:

and this that makes me believe that yes indeed, it is the silhouette of a Smeralso.

Some of this I am yet to see where is going. like the referencing of "the letter", The truth untold, the flower... (she says, all while thinking of the choice this Festa to stream LY Seoul final with said song and the changes that JM and JK chose to make to it)...

All that and more in one little short clip.

And then we have that little 'chat' opened up by BH, and those lyrics. Oh, those lyrics.

All references that indeed can be connected with army. I mean, that's what JM is king of.

All also a clear reference to a one Jeon Jungkook, if you are only willing to look and see.

Rain

Snow

Crying

We have this:

Which they have BOTH chose to bring up once again in 2023, JK happening to do so during JM's Face promos, not to mention the rain reference in SNTY (and of course, goes without saying Still with you, but that's back in 2020, while they have both managed to bring it up and reference it once again in 2023).

Remember this?

Oh, and what about this?

And then we have these:

Remember JM tearing up after winning MMA for BS&T ?

JM getting emotional and crying only followed by JK tearing up.

*If you haven't seen this one yet, go watch the full live.

And who can forget JK during MOTS ONE as well, seeing JM crying, distress clearly showing on his face, just waiting for the moment he can go and comfort JM.

If these are actual lyrics for a song to come or lyrics that were dropped, one thing we know, and that these words, these lines, they were written by JM, and he made a clear choice to share them with us.

And in doing so, sorry, I'm still not believing this all while sitting here gushing and knowing this was coming (no, I didn't know this specifically was coming, but the feeling that they were going big or going home, that I've had ever since July 2023... took some time and many tribulations, but we are getting there folks). Sidetracked as I always am, lol.

Back on track.... in doing so, JM is basically standing on a rooftop screaming at the top of his lungs:

Not 1, not 2, but 3 JK references in that little shared piece of lyrics clearly written by JM, for an album we are yet to see and hear.

Anyone, and I mean anyone that is a BTS army, that has seen original content, that has followed their Twitter account or seen older tweets, that are open and willing to see it, will KNOW that these lyrics are JAYKAY!!!!!

And let me backtrack a second here...

Cause I did mention that these references could be understood as if they are made for army, right?

So yeah. Army references or JK references? I am going to say both, leaning very much to the JK side of it. Cause that's how they do it. Time after time after time.

Let's mention the colour choices as well.

We have the background colours.

We have the yellow.

And then we have the album concepts.

2 concepts.

Blooming

and Serenade.

Which happens to be Yellow, same colour threaded through Serendipity.

And we even have purple thrown in there too.

Notice how all the lockers are painted purple. The colour of army you may say, but also JK's colour (so again, army and JK?).

And he's pulling out the music sheet from this purple locker.

Those lockers representing his inspiration for his music perhaps?

Giving us these lyrics, then telling us the album is called Muse (or telling us the name of the album and it's meaning and then dropping those lyrics, take your pick regarding the timing, cause basically, same same), showing us the music being extracted from those purple lockers... ya think his muse is that entity he's talking about in those lyrics perhaps (even more so if we see the references as both for army and JK)?

Rhetorical question, btw.

And then we have the mint green.

Perhaps this is what JM was talking about when he told us in his birthday live, if memory serves me right, about going to the starting point, or more so starting from the beginning trying to figure out himself as an artist?

Also, cannot help but think of this image here:

I cannot wait to see his concept photos, and where this is all going.

We talked about JK being so loud during 2023 (well, he's had his super loud moments before that, but 2023 and his lives were smoking). And JM, well it felt (and I say felt, cause it's not really true, and I'll explain why) was quieter, more subdued, especially during JK's Golden promotions.

But here's the thing.

JM and JK have their own special oh so different ways of being loud and showing us themselves (and it shows even more so seeing that JK, for whatever reasons he had for it, did not write his songs for Golden - not saying he did not have influence on the lyrics or choice of songs with lyrics he wanted). JK did it through his choices in his photo shoots and styling for his songs and album. He did it with his lives and his total fanboying over JM. And JM, he does it through his art, which includes also but not only his lyrics.

Those two are both loud as fuck. And JM, well if these sneak lyrics are a promo of more to come (which, they probably are seeing that we have Face to fall back on as an example), then he's as loud as a frigging foghorn.

And last but not least, before I go:

Lookie here...

D-31

[yangqism]

break up with your girlfriend, i'm bored | qian kun

idol!kun x afab!reader

synopsis.  You know exactly what you’re doing. You’ve got your sights set on Kun, your flawless, "stuck-up" senior with his perfect life and girlfriend — yeah, he’s off-limits. But that little detail? It won’t stop you. One dance, all teasing glances and charged tension, and suddenly, his eyes are focused on yours. Break up with your girlfriend, your look seems to say, I’m bored. He knows the risks, knows exactly what it would mean if someone caught on. But with you? There’s a thrill he can’t ignore, a promise of something just dangerous enough to be worth the fallout.

genre. forbidden romance, smut, angst

warnings. noncon elements (kun kissing reader out of the blue), emotional manipulation, infidelity, protected sex, fingering, handjob (if you don’t blink), explicit language, spitting, pussy eating

word count. 5,802

“I am not a homewrecker,” you defended yourself to Karina, a junior of yours, after she caught you looking with heart eyes to your senior, Kun. “He’s just so… charismatic. It makes me wonder how Hyeyeon pulled him.”

Hyeyeon used to be a trainee at SM Entertainment but left because she didn’t make the cut for aespa. You, on the other hand, debuted as a soloist the same year WayV debuted, just a few months later. Ever since your trainee days, you have been close to the aespa members as well as other trainees but never Hyeyeon. 

Because she has who you want. 

“Yeah, just keep saying that to yourself until you come to your senses,” Karina rolled her eyes. She’s always been the one to remind you that Qian Kun is taken by an ex-trainee while the other three would just feed your delusions and support you, equally problematic like you.

“Just listen to me, will you?” You sighed, sitting down at one of the chairs at SM’s cafeteria while Karina followed your motion. “It was just a glimpse… I haven’t seen him in months and whenever we have interactions, we just go, ‘Hi, Hello!’ and never have longer conversations. I’m not tempting him to cheat with me!” The last sentence came out as a whisper rather than a shout because you were afraid people from your own company would hear your conversation with the girl in front of you. 

Before Karina could condemn you again, Kun walked into the doors of the cafeteria with his left arm around Hyeyeon’s waist. Both of them were giggly and looked deeply in love with each other. Kun made eye contact with you and nodded at your direction while you did the same, feeling sheepish and envious all of a sudden. Wishing that it was you he was holding. 

“It’s been four years since your obsession with him began, Y/N. Looks like you better move on ‘cuz it looks like they aren’t separating anytime soon,” Karina teased, smiling widely at your semi-distraught state after having eye contact with your senior, who you dearly love, who was with his girlfriend, who you dearly hate.

“Whatever,” was the last thing you said to Karina before leaving her to head towards your practice room. 

Earlier today, you were informed by your manager that some artists would borrow your practice room for the rest of the week because their room is under renovation. Of course, you happily responded to your manager but you didn’t know who the artist was. Or who they are. 

Break up with your girlfriend, cuz I’m bored…

The lyrics of the song filled the whole room as you started practicing your special performance scheduled for next month. You decided to perform Ariana Grande’s song which is very fitting for your situation right now. 

You swayed and rolled your hips to the side followed by a kneeling position where you bent and humped the floor sensually, clearly immersed by the song and the man you were thinking of. Unbeknownst to you, Kun entered your practice room while you were deeply focused on dancing, slightly embarrassed to see you touching every part of your body sensually and even humping down the floor. To him, you owned the song. 

He wanted to exit the room quietly but his body was frozen in place. His eyes scanned you head to toe, your movement, facial expression, and even your breathing. He was skimming you thoroughly and felt this unexplainable ache in his chest for looking at another woman the way he would look at his girlfriend. 

By the end of your dance, you noticed an awkward Kun standing near the door, watching you. At first, you immediately bowed to show respect to him and greeted him with a smile to which he replied with warmth. 

“Kun-oppa! Nice to meet you!” You greeted, hoping that this is the start of a finally long conversation with your lovely senior.

“Y/N. Your dancing was so good! I almost thought that I might distract you,” he cursed to himself because if anyone was distracted, it would be him and not you. If only you could see the way his gaze lingered at your body and face, he thinks that you’d probably be weirded out by him. 

“Oh, I didn’t notice you while I was practicing so yeah…” You sheepishly replied, eyes glued to the floor, not wanting to meet Kun’s gaze that, even if you cannot see him eye to eye, intimidated you so much. 

Just as when you thought it would be the last conversation you’ll have with your beloved senior for the day, your mind wandered off to something that you know you will regret afterwards… but you want to at least try. 

“Sunbae…” you trailed. Your eyes now bravely meet his. Naught was evident in your current state as you slowly walked closer to Kun. 

The man started getting nervous as you stopped near him. The only barrier the both of you have is at least one inch of air and clothes. “Yes..?” He asked tensely. Kun wanted to put more space between the both of you but his body won’t budge to what his mind wants. He stood there, extremely close to you and his anxiousness to what you are about to say was clear in his demeanor.

“Would you like to watch me dance again? And then you can give me advice afterwards.” Your tone was achingly flirtatious and you winced after that came out of your mouth. You hoped that he’d agree while he hoped that his members would come sooner or he’d accept your offer and make more immoral thoughts about you… while he has a girlfriend.

It took a while for Kun to respond to what you had just said. He closed his eyes for a moment and inhaled deeply, his members still didn’t arrive even though the situation he is in right now needed them.

And he answered you with something both of you knew would change the trajectory of your relationship with each other.

“Sure, it’d be my pleasure.”

It was indeed his pleasure to see you dance upfront than by the mirror. Kun watched in awe as you perfected the moves, adding sensual touches here and there which made him feel guilty. 

But why would he feel guilty if he wasn’t interested in you?

You can hit it in the mornin’, like it’s yours

I know it ain’t right

But I don’t care

Break up with your girlfriend

Cause I’m bored 

You mouthed the lyrics while pointing to Kun, walking closer to where he was seated. While you were slowly dancing your way to Kun, he cannot deny the nervousness filling up his whole body, watching your next move. Guiltily waiting for what is next. Hoping for something to happen. Guiltily. 

At this point, you weren’t in your usual self because you were too preoccupied with the song. You were feeling the song so much that you didn’t notice you were humping Kun’s lap rather than the floor. That you were seductively singing your lyrics to his ear. That you were breathing heavily while singing. That he can hear everything. And that he can feel you the way you are feeling the warmth of his body right now. 

“Break up with your girlfriend,” was your final verse and you were still in his lap, sitting in his tough thighs that are now clenched underneath you. Oh, how you loved the feeling of your beloved senior’s lap. You enjoyed every second of it and you highkey hope he did too. 

You and Kun spent an entire minute looking at each other’s eyes, waiting for who will give in first. Waiting for who will initiate something. Waiting for something. 

“So… how was it, oppa?” You bit your lower lip, slowly sitting beside Kun who was clearly having a hard time processing what had happened to him and his precious lap. “Kun?”

When he didn’t answer you the first time, you got worried, thinking that he was actually as stuck up as other people and as the media portrayed him to be and that he wasn’t ready to experience that with you, his junior who he did not have any communication with whatsoever before it happened. 

But what he did startled you more than how you startled him. He grabbed your head forcefully and made your lips meet each other. You moaned at the sudden contact, touching his shoulders and sitting back to his lap and grinded harshly on his now prominent boner. Your tongues started battling for dominance and his hands are now on your ass, squeezing it hard making you whimper. 

“Kun…” 

“You like this huh, Y/N?” He groaned, his kisses moving down to your neck where he left sloppy kisses. “You like riling your seniors up, Y/N? You like it when you act like a slut in front of your seniors?” He was degrading you and you loved every second of it. 

“Only… hmn… for Kun…ah!” You replied breathily, his hands now groping your chests. He was so close to removing your shirt when you heard the loud noise of his members heading to your practice room. Only then did you remember that they were supposed to practice right after you, leading you to push your body off of Kun. Hurriedly, you left your own practice room while Kun sat there, realizing what he had done. 

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath. 

“What have I done?” You were walking back and forth in front of the aespa members, biting your nails and your eyebrows furrowed. It was the week after your sinful interaction with your long-time crush who has a girlfriend and you cannot sleep at peace every night thinking of what you had done, of what you had made him do. It was all your fault and your conscience is eating you up. You vividly remember how frantic you were to the remaining WayV members heading to your practice room that you bowed to them without making eye contact, because of the guilt that you had done something morally and ethically wrong with their leader. 

“Well, if only you acted more like a mature woman, this wouldn’t happen,” Karina scolded you and you definitely deserved that for what you did. 

“But think of it, Y/N-eonnie! It means he’s interested in you! ‘Cause he wouldn’t have done that if he wasn’t!” Ningning butted in, her smile was so wide you almost gave in to the thought that THE Qian Kun is interested in you. 

“No! I tempted him… oh god.. I’m the worst human being ever! How can I face him again?! How can I face Hyeyeon again?” You’re now sitting on your room's floor, hair disheveled, clothes crumpled, and everything. Clearly, what had happened affected you so much that you were in a panic. 

“So, what’s your plan?” Giselle asked, unbothered at your current state. 

“I’ll just ignore him and then pretend that what happened to us never happened and… that it was all in our imagination! See?” You rambled like crazy, grinning idiotically while eyeing the four girls at your sofa.

“You can’t just ignore Kun… We have SMTOWN next week,” Winter amusingly replied to you.

“Fuuck,” you pulled your hair so hard they thought you were about to become bald. “What do I do?!”

The rest of the week before SMTOWN Concert was just you explicitly avoiding Kun to the point that even his members are asking him why you are acting weird around them. Kun just shrugged at them, knowing that he was the reason why you’re doing that but they have no right to know why because they will definitely look at him with disdain.

While you were busy going to places where Kun won’t go, he was busy trying to chase you to apologize and to have a proper closure about what had happened before. He confessed to himself that he gave in to you because you were so beautiful while you danced and he saw how immersed you were while dancing that it made him make out with you. He never told Hyeyeon what happened because he felt guilty the first few days but later on, it was replaced with his yearning for you to talk to him again, to greet him again like a senior as if nothing bad happened.

Kun never understood why he suddenly felt this way towards you after what the both of you had done but ever since, when you’re not looking or when you thought that he’s not around, he would steal glances and observe you from afar… slowly building up his forbidden liking for you. He hated every single thought of him corrupting and liking you while hurting Hyeyeon because everyone knows Qian Kun is smart, stuck-up, and perfect, until you came. You had affected him. You made his wall crumble and you made him feel things he isn’t supposed to feel towards someone that isn't his lover. You made Qian Kun a sinner.

Day by day, his love for Hyeyeon became colder but the girl was oblivious to her now distant boyfriend because Kun still acted lovey dovey towards her and made her feel warm and giddy. Though, he’d rather spend days chasing you than acting to Hyeyeon. 

At that moment, Kun realized how much of an asshole he is for playing with Hyeyeon and for looking at you while his girlfriend wasn’t around. He felt like a dick because he couldn’t break up with his girlfriend, hating the fact that he’d hurt the woman he swore he’d marry before. 

But oh well, turns out he wasn’t the only one having fun when he’s unavailable. 

It was a sunny day right before SMTOWN, the artists were diligently doing their final rehearsal at the Sky Dome while Giselle begged you to go out and buy food with her for the other members. You agreed immediately because your rehearsal was finished an hour ago but you still stayed in hopes of seeing Kun perform on stage.

“What do you want, Y/N?” Giselle asked you, scanning the dessert aisle of the convenience store. 

“I just want some corn dog and iced coffee. What ‘bout you? I’ll pay for everything,” you offered but before Giselle could celebrate you spoke again, “But you’ll go to the counter and do the talking, I’ll just give you my card.” 

“Hah… seriously. You never fail to get my hopes up just to disappoint me,” Giselle complained but still managed to go to the counter with all of the food.

“You want free food or nah?” The girl just looked at you dejectedly.

“What’s with two coffees anyway?” 

“I’m giving it to Kun…” Giselle noticed the way your eyes looked around the store, not wanting to meet her teasing gaze. “I know the look you’re giving me right now and I’m not loving it.” 

“Yeah… ‘cuz what happened to avoiding him?”

“Look at his arms and tell me if you can ignore someone like him.” The girl just nodded in agreement to what you had said. 

When the both of you exited the convenience store, you cannot help but notice a familiar figure at a coffee shop near the venue of the concert. You urged Giselle to follow you and observed the familiar figure, to see if you can recall who it was. 

It was Hyeyeon with an unfamiliar guy, laughing together. He even kissed Hyeyeon’s temple and it was enough for you to realize that she had been cheating on Kun while he worked his ass off inside the stadium. Giselle looked at you worriedly, afraid that you might barge inside the coffee shop and attack Hyeyeon.

“Isn’t that the girlfriend of your crush?”

“Y-yeah… but if she’s cheating, why do it at a place near the stadium?” 

“Ask your crush, not me. I just want to eat. Come on, Y/N. Karina and the others are waiting for us,” before you followed Giselle back to the venue, you took a couple of pictures of the two as a proof to show to Kun. 

Of course, rather than feeling bad for the man, you thought of this as a chance to get him. To make him yours. 

Backstage, you told the other girls the scene you saw with Giselle. At first, they told you not to jump to any conclusions because maybe they’re relatives, waiting for Kun to finish his rehearsals so they could meet. But something isn’t quite right and it’s bothering you.

“I will tell him about this!” You figured that this is the chance to talk to him again, to act innocent and show him a picture of his girlfriend being kissed at the temple by another man. To tell him that you’re just concerned for his relationship. 

“How would you, though? If you go to their waiting room, everyone will be suspicious. You know how things get if a rumor gets out that you’re talking to Kun,” Winter tilted her head, her eyes scanning your face, waiting for your response. 

“And that’s why we have Ningning!” You gleamed, looking at the youngest member with imploring eyes.

Ningning swallowed hard, evaluating the situation she’s in. She doesn’t want to be some catalyst for another person’s heartbreak but she wants you to shut up about Kun. In the end, she’s closer to you than she is to Hyeyeon and what is right is always with the ones closest to you. 

She took a deep breath followed by a click of her tongue, “I can’t believe I’m tolerating you. If your fans knew about this, they’d go mad,” was what she said before heading to WayV’s waiting room to look for Kun. 

The thought of your fans knowing your sinful escapade with your senior who has a girlfriend ignited the thrill in your heart you never knew you had. You are fully aware of how big the backlash can be if ever this gets out, of how you might potentially lose your job and be the most hated idol in the industry ever. But the excitement overpowers the fear of whatever the consequences of your actions can lead to. If it’s for Kun. 

Ningning led Kun to the girls’ waiting room, urging the rest of her members to get out, leaving you and him alone. 

“Kun-oppa…” Awkward tension filled the room. He wasn’t speaking to you and was just looking into your eyes indirectly from the mirror you are in front of. “Hi.” You bit your lip as your body started to feel hot from the presence of Kun. 

“Are you avoiding me, Y/N?” Was all he needed to say for you to sit up straight and look back at him. 

“Who wouldn’t?” You retorted, “After the thing I did to you… I felt bad.” And that you did. You genuinely felt bad for riling his mood up, for not stopping, for taking advantage of him. 

“It’s not anyone’s fault, Y/N. I chose to do that with you,” Kun replied, patting the couch, urging you to sit beside him which you immediately conformed to. “Why’d you bring me here?” 

Looking at his eyes almost made you forget the reason Ningning brought him here. But before dropping the big news, you first gave him the coffee you bought earlier for him, earning a small ‘thanks’ from him. 

“I have something to show you,” you firmly said. This time, you were looking seriously into his eyes that he cannot fathom what you are about to tell. “But first, does Hyeyeon know it’s your last rehearsal today?” You winced at the sound of his girlfriend’s name from your mouth, feeling like the lowest being on Earth.

He found it weird for you to ask him about his girlfriend when you have an unexplainable tension between the both of you but he shook his head no. 

With your hands trembling, you unlocked your phone and opened your gallery app to show him the images you took earlier of Hyeyeon and an unknown man, acting very intimate at the coffee shop near the stadium. “I saw them when me and Giselle went out earlier to buy snacks.” 

At first, Kun frowned slightly, then his head leaned closer to your phone to get a better view of what you’re showing him. After looking at the photo for a minute, it seems to be engraved into his mind. His jaws clenched tightly and said nothing for a long time, just observing what was happening in the photo. 

“That’s…” His voice became so low that you felt even hotter, sitting close next to him. You can tell that he was mad and disappointed at the thing you showed him. “Is this true?” He questioned you, his voice heavy with tension.

“Kun, I would never lie to you.” 

Kun stared at the photo for a moment longer, his expression completely unreadable. Then, he let out a soft, unamused chuckle, running a hand through his hair. “So this is what she’s been doing,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“Kun…” You hesitated, your voice soft. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head again in disagreement. “Thank you for showing me. I wouldn’t have known otherwise.” 

You watched his fingers rake his hair again, his body seemingly sinking under an invisible weight. As you were closer in determining what he was feeling, his demeanor suddenly shifted from a betrayed man to something darker. 

At the night before the concert, Kun couldn’t stop thinking about the photo you’d shown him. The image of Hyeyeon smiling and leaning into another man wasn’t just a betrayal—it was the perfect opportunity. He wasn’t proud of himself for thinking that way, but the guilt of his own infidelity had been gnawing at him, and now, for the first time in weeks, he saw a way to relieve himself. 

When Hyeyeon showed up to his dorm, he was greeted with her lively demeanor and a kiss on the cheek. But he wasn’t having any of it. He wanted to end this quickly so that he could go back chasing you. 

“Hyeyeon, who is he?” He asked, his phone now in front of Hyeyeon’s face. Her eyes welcomed the photo you took which is now on Kun’s phone. 

His girlfriend’s smile faded and it was replaced by shock, her mouth slightly open. “Kun? I don’t know–He’s just a friend… Where did you even get this?” Her thoughts were all over the place and all she could think was how she could defend herself to keep Kun with her. 

Kun inhaled sharply and licked his bottom lip, showing annoyance to the female. “Just a friend? Are you kidding me, Hyeyeon? Look at the way he’s touching you. Hell, he even kissed your temple!” He raised his voice in annoyance as Hyeyeon now started tearing up. 

“Kun, I swear it’s not what it looks like. I would neve-” Before Hyeyeon could finish her sentence, Kun interrupted her. 

His eyes showed his deep disappointment to his soon-to-be-former lover as if he was incredibly hurt from what she did. “Never? Because it sure looks like you would!” He pointed at the photo again. “I’ve been working all day and night, trying to keep our relationship stable despite everything, and this is how you repay me?” His tone cracked, filled with fabricated hurt, though inside, he was now unaffected by her betrayal. 

“I’m sorry, Kun! I didn’t think that… that it would go this far.”

“You definitely did not think, Hyeyeon, because who would ever do that to their boyfriend? Huh? Do you even care about the efforts I made to keep you safe? The sacrifices?” His voice was sharp and clear, laced with hypocrisy from someone who isn’t innocent but wants to make her the guilty one. “I am more than disappointed in you, Hyeyeon. For me, you were my everything.”

Hyeyeon wanted to talk again, to defend herself. She wanted to make things right but Kun was having none of it. He was having enough of acting in front of her. “This won’t do, Hyeyeon.” He stated whilst shaking his head. “This won’t do. I think we have to end our relationship. We have to stop.” 

Her eyes widened and she violently disagreed with what he had just said. “No please, Kun! Please give me another chance. Please!” She clasped her palms together in front of him, desperate for some sort of kindness Kun might give her. 

“We’re over, Hyeyeon.” Was the last thing he said before escorting the woman out of his dorm. 

The next day, news of Hyeyeon cheating on Kun spread like wildfire. A lot of the staff has sympathized with him, especially his members but he assured them that he is fine. That everything is okay and he can manage… which he definitely is, considering how he took his confrontation with Hyeyeon as a chance to make her guilty. 

Right after your performance, you spent a moment backstage to observe the chaos of the staff running frantically in different directions. The hum of the stage’s booming bass reverberated through the walls, each thud is a reminder of the performer’s passion to be on stage, in front of their fans. 

You then entered your dressing room which was dim and the fluorescents were flickering softly overhead. You were about to close the door to change when you saw Kun standing by the door, his chest heaving slightly as if he was running after you, afraid you’d avoid him again. 

His eyes–dark and piercing–met yours and held them captive. The tension was unbearable and the silence was heavy. He then closed the door behind him and locked it. The sound of the door locking seemed to echo louder than it should have, making your breath hitch. 

He turned to you and eyed you from head to toe, like the time he was watching you dance. “You were great out there,” he complimented you, walking closer to your current position. 

“Thank you,” you bit your lower lip, eyes now avoiding his intense gaze. “What are you doing here?” 

“I broke up with Hyeyeon,” he explained, his calm voice serenading your ears but you cannot help but hear the slight crack of his voice from the mention of his ex’s name. 

You looked at him with wide eyes, head tilted to the side. “You what?”

“I ended it with Hyeyeon,” his voice was firm and sharp. “Because I couldn’t keep lying to myself. About her. About you.” 

You blinked, trying to process what he had just said to you. Your emotions are now all over the place, your chest feels tight, and your thoughts are racing. “Kun, I–”

“You don’t get it, do you?” he interrupted your dialogue, his voice came out as a growl that sent shivers down your spine. He stepped closer to you, your clothes brushed into each other, and his gaze pinned you in place. “You’ve turned my whole life upside down, and now I don’t even know who I am.” 

His confession hit you hard, leaving you breathless. Your legs weaken second by second because of him and what he’s doing to you. You tried to say something but nothing was coming out of your mouth. 

He was just looking at your current state but Kun is trying so hard to contain himself. His jaw clenched, hands curling into fists at his sides as he disciplined himself in front of you. “I thought I had everything figured out, Y/N. But you came along and nothing makes sense anymore.” 

You now took the courage to touch his arm. “Kun,” you whispered with your voice trembling. “I never meant to–” 

“Don’t,” his voice cracked. “Don’t say you didn’t mean to, because we both know it’s not true.” His eyes were filled with overflowing emotion that you know is genuine and is making your heart ache. 

“Then what do you want me to say? That I feel the same? That I’ve liked you for a long time? That I can’t stop thinking about you?” 

You could feel the heat radiating off of him and instead of answering you, he closed the distance between you in two swift sides. He, now, can no longer contain his frustration as he gently held your face and crashed his lips against yours. 

The kiss was rough and desperate, filled with everything the both of you couldn’t put into words at your current state. You gasped against his mouth, hands flying up to hold his shoulders as he pulled you even more closer to him. His fingers slid into your hair, holding you in place as the kiss deepened, his tongue sweeping past your lips to tangle with yours. 

You pulled out to take a breath, your forehead rested against his. Kun’s hands moved to your waist, gripping you tightly, afraid you might disappear. 

“Kiss me again,” you whispered, almost coming out inaudible but he complied. Your lips met his again and your right hand wandered downwards, towards his crotch. You were massaging his now hardened member just underneath his clothes, earning a groan from the man himself. 

His hands slid down to your thighs, lifting you effortlessly onto the counter as his lips moved to your neck, sucking, kissing, and biting your sensitive skin. 

“Ahh… Kun!” You gasped, both of your hands now busy with removing his pant’s zipper. Once his dick was out, you spat on your palm then moved to stroke it. You kissed him again while moving your hands up and down, giving special attention to his sensitive head, earning a groan from his lips. 

“Oh, Y/N…” His hands roamed your body, slipping beneath your outfit to explore the bare skin of your thighs. When he reached the edge of your underwear, he hesitated, his dark eyes met yours in a silent question. 

You nodded fervently, your body now filled with lust and all you can think about is his fingers inside yours. “Yes, please… Please, Kun,” you breathed out, removing your hands from his member, letting him kneel so that his face meets your womanhood. 

His lips curved into a smirk as you spread your legs widely for him to see how much wetness has covered your underwear. “Excited, hm?” 

“Please, just eat me out,” your pleading eyes met his and he groaned at the lustful sight in front of him. Your legs spread out nicely for him to take a good view of your covered pussy while your lipstick was smudged all over your face, and your hair now disheveled. 

Your position is enough for him to remove your panty and throw it at the side. His thumb gently spread your wetness all over your pussy and his face inched closer to your heat. You were grinding on his thumb, moaning and whining for him to finger, suck–just anything he can do to you to relieve the arousal in your middle. 

The world outside faded away as Kun slid two of his fingers inside you, his lips now sucking and licking your clit. Your eyes rolling to the back of your head, your hands gripping his hair tightly, and your legs now surround his head, pulling him even closer to you. 

He fingered you fast and rough, your wetness and moans filled the whole of your dressing room. Kun was so turned on by you that his left hand now jerked his neglected member. His fingers curled into your g-spot while he spitted on your womanhood. “Fuck,” he bit his lower lip before diving into your pussy again. “You’re pussy’s so good for me, Y/N. It’s clenching my fingers so tight.” 

“Oh, Kun! Right there, oh…” You weren’t listening to what he was saying, your mind now in euphoria as he added another finger, making you whimper. “Fuck! Kun!” His fast movements followed by the abuse of your clit from his mouth was enough for you to chant his name repeatedly and loudly, the music at the stage overpowering your noises. “Mmm… s’ close, Kun… let me cum, please," you tried your best to talk, the knot in your stomach aching to be released. 

“Not yet, sweetheart. Need to feel your cum on my dick,” the way Kun said those sexual things ignited the fire inside you. Never in your whole life would you expect this senior of yours to say those explicit things to you, intensely. 

He stopped fingering you, edging you in process and making you whine. “Shh, so impatient.” 

Kun wrapped the condom he had prepared beforehand, to his member before grinding it on the lips of your sensitive, wet pussy. “Fuck…” He groaned, eyes now closed as he entered your womanhood. 

He kissed you deeply while thrusting slowly, the squelching sound was so erotic that it turned him on more. Your insides clenched on his member, making him pound faster and harder into you. 

Overwhelmed is an understatement on what you are feeling right now. Every nerve in your body had been set alight as you clung to him for dear life. Each of his thrust sends waves of pleasure crashing over you. 

You didn’t care about what was happening in the outside world. There was only him–his touch, his breath, his whispered name falling from your lips like a prayer, and his member that’s rearranging your insides. 

You clenched tight on him, your hands finding their way to his clothed back, scratching and holding for support. “‘m close… So close…” You murmured, eyes closed in ecstasy while Kun guided you through your release. 

“Hmm, cum with me, sweetheart,” the sounds from the both of you became more desperate and the clashing of your skin to his filled the entire room. 

When the tension finally snapped, it crashed over the both of you, leaving you trembling on Kun’s hold. His forehead rested against yours as you both struggled to catch your breath. 

Kun pressed a kiss to your cheek, his hand cradling the back of your head as if to shield you from the weight of what had just happened. 

“We can’t go back after this,” he said quietly, his voice still hoarse. 

“I know,” you replied, your fingers tracing lazy circles on his chest. “But maybe… maybe we don’t need to.”

That was all Kun needed to hear from you. He cleaned you up and helped you sit on your dressing room’s couch. 

The both of you knew that you’re not ready to have a conversation about your relationship right now but what you had said to each other earlier is enough for the both of you to feel okay, for now.

[l4ndonorizz]

NO ESCAPE - lando norris x gn!reader

pairing: lando norris x gn!reader

warnings: cursing, kissing, alcohol, maybe low self esteem, complicated relationships, english is not my first language

song: no escape by health and the neighbourhood

summary: you and lando finally get your feelings straight

wc: 1k

The party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air. You and Lando were inseparable, as usual, navigating through the crowd and enjoying the evening. There was an unspoken tension between you, both of you aware of the feelings simmering below the surface, but neither willing to confront them directly.

As the night wore on, the atmosphere shifted when one of your friends, having had a bit too much to drink, made a comment that cut through the lively chatter.“Yo, you really should hook up with someone. I mean, you’re not getting any younger. Why not just get some action?”

You laughed it off. “Nah, I’m good. No need to rush into anything.”

“Are you sure about that?” the friend pushed. “I mean, what about Lando? You two are always together. Ever thought of him like that?”

Mentioning Lando made you turn red. You stammered, “W-what? No way. Lando’s just a friend.”

The friend wasn’t buying it. “Come on. It’s obvious there’s something between you two. Don’t even try to tell me you haven’t thought about it.”

The comment hung in the air, and you saw Lando’s face darken. He’d overheard and was clearly pissed. His expression went from confused to seriously angry.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Lando’s voice was strained, his eyes locking onto yours. “Am I really so awful that even a little interest is out of the question?”

You tried to explain, but the booze was messing with your head. “I didn’t mean it like that. It’s just... it’s complicated, okay? It’s not that simple.”

“Complicated?” Lando’s frustration was clear. “So, you think I’m just some charity case you keep around ‘cause you’ve got family issues and need a filler?”

The sting of his words hit hard. “No, that’s not it. It’s just... I can’t explain it. It’s not about you being a problem. It’s just... complicated.”

Lando’s eyes were blazing with anger. “Complicated? So, I’m just a burden to you? Am I really that pathetic? Maybe you think I’m just a distraction from your messed-up family drama. Or maybe you’re too scared to admit you don’t actually want me, ‘cause that means dealing with your own issues!”

“No, you’re not a burden!” you shot back, but your words were a mess. “It’s just... I can’t... I’m not saying you’re a problem. It’s just...”

Lando’s face was hard, his voice laced with bitterness. “You know what? Maybe you’re just too selfish and scared to admit what you really want. Maybe you’re using me to avoid facing your own fears. Or maybe you’re just too cowardly to admit you don’t actually care about me!”

His harsh words hit you like a slap. You felt a wave of hurt and frustration. “What the fuck did you just say? I can’t believe you.”

The argument left both of you reeling, your emotions raw and on edge. Without another word, you turned and stormed out of the party. The cool night air hit you as you walked away, tears of frustration stinging your eyes. You found a quiet spot, away from the noise, trying to calm your racing thoughts.

Lando followed at a distance, his face set in a grim expression. He didn’t say anything, his anger and regret mingling in his silence. After a few hours, he finally approached you, his tone softer but still tinged with frustration.

“It’s time to go,” Lando said quietly.

You didn’t reply, simply nodding and turning to follow him. The drive was marked by a heavy silence, the tension between you palpable. You both sat in the car, the music turned on but you only listened to the hum of the engine. 

Slowly, your eyes began to close, and instead of the engine's hum, you found yourself absorbed in the lyrics of the song playing softly in the background.

Same thing happens every day, I try to run, but they want me to stay, a year's fast, but the days are slow, life's hard when you're young, and it's worse as you grow, All the plans we had have come to nothing All the water under the bridge is drowning us.

You replayed the fight in your mind, each harsh word and hurtful comment. But then the chorus cut through your thoughts:

Hard enough to trust someone Hard enough to lower the gun Hard enough to trust someone Hard enough to lower the gun.

"Stop," you whispered, perhaps more to yourself than to Lando. But he heard you anyway.

"What?" Lando asked quietly.

"I said stop!" Your voice was louder now, and Lando immediately pulled over to the side of the road. You didn't fully grasp what you were doing, but you found yourself unbuckling your seatbelt.

"Get out of the car," you instructed as you clumsily stepped out, your movements unsteady from the drinks earlier. Lando complied, stepping out and walking around the car to your side. He stood there, waiting, his expression a mix of confusion and concern, just as you were waiting to see what would happen next.

"I'm sorry," you began, your voice tinged with emotion as you met Lando’s gaze.

"Sorry for what?" he asked, genuinely puzzled.

"I'm sorry for not being able to express myself properly. I’m sorry I didn’t make myself clear."

Before Lando could respond, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips against his. The kiss was hesitant at first, awkward and unsure. You had almost forgotten what it felt like, and Lando was momentarily taken aback. But as the seconds ticked by, his surprise melted away. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you closer, while your fingers tangled in his hair.

Slowly, the kiss grew more confident, filled with the unspoken feelings and regrets from the night. You both smiled into the kiss, a quiet acknowledgment of the emotions you’d been struggling to articulate. The argument seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a shared understanding that words alone couldn’t fully convey.

As you pulled away, the only thing you said was quiet “I love you,” as you stepped back to the car.

Almost immediately he appeared in the driver's seat with a smile on his face. "I love you too."