#bc there's no way that they won't both be in the finals
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ipusingularitae · 2 days ago
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that's why I'm so confused ab how i feel towards this scene.
1) the only ppl who know jinx was ab to kill herself was us, the audience. jinx has little to no sense of self-preservation in s1, in the eyes of Vi she's reckless, but she haven't mentioned killing herself of made a movement like that as far as Vi knows. she had made the movement accepting death but not having death by her own hands, which are different things. so in some way, yes, there's reason for Vi taking that as Jinx saying "go and be happy and I'm going away". Vi's reaction, in my interpretation, is about her sister going away for good, as far as she knows, but not killing herself. hell, I'm not gonna lie, i wasn't immediately thinking she was talking about killing herself either. so it's so fucking annoying the ppl who are seriously saying that "Vi let her sister to kill herself" bc it's a matter of what the characters know (it's s1ep3 finale all over again and somehow y'all still put the blame on Vi entirely) and could/couldn't do (we have no way to know this was 5min later as far as we know it could've been 1h later)
2) what i don't enjoy is the lack of enough conversation between Cait and Vi. bc yes, it's not about singleminded trying to get Jinx anymore, Caitlyn is saying she's not there anymore, she's done with Jinx for good. that's implied/clear enough. what it's not clear is how the fuck did she just let a terrible enough situation become worse and just goes "well i was mourning". of course you were - but so MOST PPL AROUND ZAUN FOR DECADES. the writing here is shallow. it's not only a matter of what Caitlyn did, it's about what Caitlyn allowed to make worse. it didn't start with her and it won't finish with her, and season 1 makes it clear that Vi knows this well enough to let herself grow more and more fond of Caitlyn, while holding accountable the fact that the ppl currently leading Piltover aren't trying to do enough. they had a point and they ignored it in order to make the issue of Caitlyn seem less than it actually is.
3) finally, if this wasn't happening inside a fucking prison cell i would be way less thorned. sorry, you're (the writers) telling me this is better than, idk on Caitlyn's bed after a scene of them both maybe having a shower together while Caitlyn washes off the dry blood in Vi's wounds, clean her hurt knuckles? there's the oil and water/water and blood imagery right there, and y'all just decided to throw that out of the window?
anyway, stop blaming Vi for what she didn't know and/or couldn't do. and the writers dismissed Vi's trauma and Caitlyn's action's real impact.
The sex scene could only happen after these conditions:
1) Jinx telling Vi she deserves to be happy with Caitlyn
2) Caitlyn letting go of her singleminded mission to capture/punish Jinx
Vi as a character has ALWAYS been torn by the division between Jinx and Caitlyn. The narrative has always demanded that she choose only of them and she has always refused. Always loving both of them, always trying to keep both of them in her life.
But after those scenes, the two loves of her life, the two halves of her heart weren’t pulling her in different directions anymore. Now both of them were leading her to the same destination: allowing herself happiness.
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caitvi-s-last-baincell · 2 days ago
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About *that* scene
Spoilers for Arcane Season 2 Act 3 (c8 specifically)
Okay so I've seen a lot of people being happy that we finally got a lesbian sex scene in Arcane and I totally agree but ngl I've watched it a few times now and every single time I end up crying because I just find it so beautiful. So I wanted to talk about it.
Like, it's not even the fact that the animation is amazing (I also LOVE the illumination, I think it feels so intimate) and the characters are beautiful, it's something about the way the scene is done. I find the sequence it goes through so smooth and staisfying: Vi being at one of her lowest points, Cait choosing to stand by her side thus proving her wrong, Vi wanting to kiss the hell out of Cait and Cait being all woried, Vi's "I don't fucking care", I DON'T FUCKING CARE, and when they actually get to it you can see that they're both slightly nervous and it's a bit akward because it's their first time having sex and that's how it usually is, but they just want to continue undressing each other and exploring each other's bodies. It's just so beautiful.
But also, the fact that we got to see this, the fact that after years and years we have two girls in an animated cartoon having sex and it's not portrayed in a way that sexualizes them. I was so scared that it would look like the CaitVi explicit fanart that's already up online, which is very clearly tailored to the male gaze (tbf, most of them are also based on the old character designs), but it doesn't, it's just two girls wanting to fuck each other but also being a bit nervous about it. And it's beautiful.
And while I'm at it let me tell you how HEALING it was to see Vi's body, which definitely doesn't fit current beauty standardards for women, and realizing that I find her even hotter than I do Cait (those shoulders could cure me). And I'm not trying to compare them at all bc I love them both and that'd be stupid, I'm just saying I'm thankful that the show helped me continue my slow but steady healing from years and years of diet culture bullshit and beauty standards. Tl;dr: Vi is so fucking hot I'm so gay for her.
Anyway, I won't stop watching that scene because it's healing and cathartic and I love it. Hope you enjoyed this rant :)
PD: The one thing I don't love is the music (although it's growing on me) bc hearing "American classics," "champagne," "plastic," and "God" in a world where none of those things are a thing takes me a bit out every time.
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reakeebz · 8 months ago
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there's a possibility the tsc series will take place over the course of the following school year, and i just came to the harrowing realisation that we might have to change allegiances of who we want to win in the next exy season. which. i'm having a crisis bc it'll be the fox girls final year so i want them to win but also it will be jean's first year as a trojan so i'll want them to win and neil will be vice captain so i want them to win but we'll be in jerejean's pov so i'll want them to win. and the foxes better win bc i've always been a fox stan but the trojans better win for the plot. this is an impossible scenario ugh
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aashwarr · 1 year ago
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cameron's feelings. after their final exams, the twins celebrate the end of their second term by clubbing in san myshuno. as usual, cameron and chasity are inseparable the entire night. (i was expecting them to grow apart after chasity's pregnancy termination, but turns out it might have brought them even closer...)
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wat-zu · 7 months ago
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Absolutely love your art. I want to nom it.
Also, Hollow Heads Siblings my beloveds,,,
Theyre the doomed siblings ever its not even funny
#Oouugh i have thoughts abt the hollowhead siblings. How theyre so intricately tied to eachother since their birth but they'd be#Eachother'd downfall. Esp when it's Dark and his relationship with the others#Dark would never understand what chosen went through. Mainly bc i think chosen is used to fighting his internal battles on his own#While he was in captive as an ad blocker. He loves Dark. He's grateful for Dark bc without him he wouldn't be free#But Dark isnt exactly someone reliable enough for Chosen to get the necessary healing he wants and needs#But that won't stop Dark from trying to fix him. Creates the virus for revenge. As chosen watches his brother spiral and spiral#As he watches him drift further away. Unable to get him back without a shouting match. As he watches with his heart heavy and cracked at-#Their stiffed interactions and strained relationship. He can't remember a time where they shared geniune laughs.#Then tsc coming came and changed everything.#Because this is someone who went through Chosen's pain albeit a lil differently. Someone who knows. Someone who /understands/. And this-#Someone is so much more younger than them and had to go through that pain in such a short amount of time since their birth#He sees himself in them. And he's rather walk up to alan demanding to get his hands cuffed than let tsc fester in that pain.#So tsc became chosen's priority. Healed eachother in many ways than one and are at echother's beck and call if need be.#As for Dark. I think he'd manipulate tsc into using him for his revenge. After stalking out his code and finding out about his potential#And TSC cant help but fall for his manipulations. Since this person is very very important to Chosen and they want so badly to impress-#Them both. They agreed and overtime grew to love eachother. And overtime Dark shifted his goals just a tad bit. Getting TSC more and more-#Involved. Since hey if Chosen doesn't like touching alan with a 10 ft pole why not let this kid do. And TCS agrees to this thinking that-#This is it. This is can finally heal them completely. Finally out of sight and out of mind. Finally can't live without the pain lingering#And chosen watches them with a sense of deja vu. At loss at what to do and so so afraid to lose two of his lil siblings#Then shit hits the brick UBSJDBSJSN#They make me so ill im not even kidding when i said theyre so so very very doomed!!!!!!!!!#This is abt the au btw BAHHAHAHABHA
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dramarants · 2 years ago
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it's telling the way ttj smiled at lss after their last night together in his dream, not a single drop of bittersweetness or regret or mourning for what could be, he is fully content knowing that though his end is near, he has faith in his choice and that some part of lss still loves him despite everything in the world outside. that man is truly at peace with it all and, somehow, I gotta be too
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chirpsythismorning · 1 year ago
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🎨📝☎️🛼🌈🚪⏪️💡🫀
Ever Fallen in Love (With Someone You Shouldn't've?) by Buzzcocks
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previous ⏮️ now playing ⏭️ next back to playlist
#stranger things#bizarre love triangle playlist#byler#will byers#mike wheeler#el hopper#triadic pov?#the triple repetition of 'ever fallen in love with someone-' fits so perfectly with these three and their insecurities#so i made sure to give each of them that final line with 'someone you shouldn't've fallen in love with' bc it applies to all of them#reminder: yellow = will / blue = mike / red = el#'you spurn my natural emotions. you make me feel like dirt and i'm hurt' - will#this would coincide with their fights in s3-4 with will confronting mike about the way he makes him feel bc of his actions#both fights end with mike sort of denying will's concerns only to end with them parting ways leaving mike feeling lost in his thoughts#'and if i start a commotion. i run the risk of losing you and that's worse' - mike#THAT! THAT RIGHT THERE EXPLAINS LITERALLY EVERYTHING ABOUT MIKE'S DILEMMA TO A T#mike doesn't think being honest in this situation is an option bc it could risk him losing will altogether#'i can't see much of a future. unless we find out what's to blame what a shame' - will#obviously will (like mike) has always pictured their future overlapping but lately that hope has started to dwindle. what a shame indeed.#'and we won't be together much longer. unless we realize that we are the same' - el#this is my way of sneaking in some willel twin crumbs. sue me#mike is having quite a bit of trouble juggling his relationship with will and el#unless he realizes they are the same (twins) he's never going to be able to leave his constant state of denial#'you disturb my natural emotions. you make me feel like dirt and i'm hurt.' - el#the difference between el and will's lyric is the word 'spurn' and disturb'... I just think disturb matches el a bit more than will#'and if i start a commotion. i'll only end up losing you and that's worse' - mike#slight lyrical change here for mike here is 'risk' vs 'end up'#mike thinks by telling el the truth losing her is pretty much guaranteed#anyways s/out to shrek 2 for reminding me of this gem that fits the bizarre love triangle trio perfectly#4x08#gif
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shirogane-oushirou · 4 months ago
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[cw vent: chronic illness, general world politics mention w no detail)
"man. i'm so tired. i feel like i can't do anything selfship related. is it because my energy's been sapped from family visiting and everyone wanting to do ~summer activities~ nonstop? am i so in my head about "getting ren's story right without stepping over any lines" that i've backed myself into a perfectionist corner? is the world just going to shit so hard that i can't have one (1) minute of escape on this blog before going back to working through the political hellscape we're in? god even trying to make this plushie pattern is killing me even though i want to hold my guy So Badly AUGH."
/finishes the plushie pattern after trying multiple body bases and literally buying a japanese ebook about plushie face and hair design/
"actually what if i lived forever and spent all of that time making an army of these fuckers to swim in? what then?"
#obviously tagging this as#vent -#lol. lmao. anyway.#when i say i spent all day on this... jumping from base to base trying to find one that worked well for what i wanted#and had the right face shape and the easiest way to map a face onto it and know it'll look Right when embroidered...#and then i just caved and bought a book i'd been looking at since i started making mini ren lol#(by p.iyo p.icco -- their y.outube videos influenced mini ren's design and i plan to give that credit once i post final pics#along with the person who made the 10cm doll base i used.)#and it took so much effort and i kept thinking about how Fucking Tired i am and how frustrating it is that playing cards w family#means i have to spend 2 days recovering bc sitting up + in a chair w no good support + mental games + being social = negative battery.#and then i keep going in circles about ren's backstory and the whole 'this is a story about conditions i have but for anyone#who doesn't know me it DEFINITELY reads like a gross story about a stigmatized condition i DON'T have so i have to tread#very carefully when writing about it... but i don't practice writing like i practice art so i'm simply not at the skill level#to navigate that and it makes me feel like i can't post any of that until i figure it out' Thing...#but i DID finish my plushie pattern. and i will start on it sometime this week? depending on Factors? and if i reeeeally like how it#turns out i might buy The Plushie Making Fabric™... i checked at a craft store and buying 1/4yd of both fabrics won't break the bank...#and then i could make all of his AU selves w different expressions 😏#anyway. recovery officially starts in a few days (doc appts and pest control coming over this week + dogsitting in a few days.#not great for recovery lol lmao.) so hopefully i'll be more Around here by this weekend. idk. don't hold me to that kjsndkjn#i might get sucked into plushie making again and disappear for 3 days straight kjsdnfkjsdnf ;;;#📌 [ my posts. ]#💭 [ my thoughts. ]
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r0bee · 7 months ago
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REX AND AMANDA'S ROMANCE HAS ME ABSOLUTELY FUCKED UP RN OH MY GOD
(full on comic spoilers under the cut just in case)
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FUCKING ME UPPPPP
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dutybcrne · 1 month ago
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Lumine genuinely had a crush on Dainsleif, even in spite of their reservations about the man and the grudge he held against their sibling, though said crush was quashed very quickly upon witnessing the events of the Chasm, send tweet-
#hc; lumine (traveler)#Lumi: I think I have feelings for Dain; thoughts?#Pa|mon: And prayers; oh my fucking Archons-#☆ ┆ ( .ooc. );#//The moment that man NAMED Ha|fdan; they had an inkling they might not have a chance#//Then seeing the way Dan risked his life for Dain and the other Khaenri'ahns/knights; they suspected Dan might Also have feelings for him#//Then Dain's final goodbye in particular; they KNEW the jig was up#//& the final exchange btw the two cemented to Lumi even more how cruel what happened in khaenri'ah was & wish they coulda stayed together#//They don't hold any hard feelings over the lil heartbreak whatsoever#//Both bc they knew Dain had to be REELING; going through losing someone so important to him TWICE#//But also bc they very gratefully consider it their wakeup call to a very painful truth at the end of it all#//& as such witnessing that very loss is partly why they became a bit more averse to actually falling for someone while in Teyvat#//If just SEEING what such a heartbreak feels like hurt to watch; imagine what it must be like to FEEL it firsthand#//No thanks; losing their sibling and their betrayal was painful enough; & they Deffo don't wanna leave themself vulnerable to THAT as well#//Doesn't mean they won't find their heart skipping a beat every now and then; esp for people like X|ao; Ay.aka or Nav|a tho#//But they know too keenly that chances are; it's going to end in heartbreak rather than anything happy#//ESP if their sibling doesn't want to stay in Teyvat at the end of it all
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robofaggots · 1 year ago
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help. the girl who i might b crushing teased me in public for getting flustered talking to some guy answering questions for a horror pop-up at the mall (bc he was in a cyberpunk-ish robot helmet and a black skin tight suit with a lab coat over it and i. have weird tastes) and then proceeded to poke fun at me for the rest of the day. i think i might be in love w/ this girl
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cream-stew · 1 year ago
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How about monsterfcking with Neuvillette? Him in his dragon form pounding and breeding reader's pussy until his cum leaks out and when Neuvillette saw his cum leaking out he tries to push it back in using his thick fingers but it just won't stay inside, a lot of his cum wasted so he fucked Reader full again with a new batch of cum and cockwarmed him after their down<3
(What if after they have sex, Neuvillette carries Reader to the bathroom to clean both of them and Neuvillette still inside of Reader but ended up fucking when Neuvillette and Reader are inside of the bathtub)
Sorry if my grammar is wrong! English is my third language hehe and I'm still learning
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🔞minors dni
warnings: afab reader, breeding, creampie, multiple orgasms, squirting, tummy bulge, size kink, mosterfucking
// note: no worries anon I could understand perfectly <3 thank you for the request this was fun
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he's bigger than you even in his more human form, but like this, arms and legs covered in light blue scales, thick horns crowning his head, he's just. huge. straight up huge. he has you in a mating press and your face can barely reach his pecs, your legs can't even hook on his shoulders, they're ramrod straight as he grips your ankles in his big hands.
his cock is a really tight fit too... your pussy is stretched to the limit as he pounds into you, leaving you gaping each time he pulls out before slamming back inside with full force. now you can really understand why he decided to fuck you on the floor this time, putting down soft blankets and pillows so that you'd still be comfortable, but simply refusing to do it on the bed: he would have destroyed it in minutes, his strength and stamina in his half dragon form is insane!
when he finally cums inside you, when you're well on your way to a fourth orgasm, you think maybe he'll calm down a little but nope... he just changes tactics, never pulling out completely again, bc he doesn't want his cum to leak out of you :(
he keeps fucking you with really shallow thrusts, just as fast as he did previously, praising and encouraging you to just hold on for "a little longer" bc he needs to cum again, to claim you fully and stuff your cute little pussy to the brim :(
your eyes are tearing up a lil by then, but it feels so good that you can't find it in you to complain... so you let him pump you full one, twice more, until you hear him grumble and mutter something under his breath, until his huge fingers replace his monstrous cock, trying to fuck the cum back inside you. "what a waste" he complains. in his lustful haze he doesn't understand that your pussy is way too small to hold on to all that cum, so the only solution he can find is to fuck you again...
except this time, after pounding into you so so roughly, making you squirt on his cock for who knows how many times, he doesn't pull out after cumming... he just makes you cockwarm him, thinking that there's no way it'll leak out if he keeps your pussy sealed off like that!
it's hours before he allows you to move, but he still doesn't let you go, carrying you to the bathroom with his rock hard cock still buried snugly against your cervix, an evident bulge in your tummy. he summons enough warm water to fill the tub before lowering the both of you inside, effectively making you straddle his hips as the new position allows his cock to reach even deeper inside your womb.
it'd be relaxing, the warm water soothing your sore muscles, if he didn't grab you by the hips to move you back and forth on his cock :/ he uses you like a fleshlight, bouncing you up and down and jerking off inside your pussy as you desperately clutch to his shoulders, moaning and babbling, and when he doesn't stop even after cumming one more time inside, you just accept that you're going to fall asleep in his arms, and he's probably going to keep fucking you through it until you wake up in the morning🥺🥺
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fatuismooches · 1 year ago
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OH. MY. GOD...... please GO READ EVERY ONE
eons adrift ⋅ʚ♡ɞ⋅ wanderer x gn!reader
˗ˏˋ꒰ 🎐 ꒱ "i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me." "that's not possible, you and i both know that." "watch me!"
 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚ cw: character analysis-ish, mildly proofread, drabble but it's kinda messy, its more like an idea than a fic LOLLL im sorry, hurt/comfort
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scaramouche took you for a naive fool, just as he was when oh so stupidly believed those words as kunikuzushi.
you are but a human. a mere breath of his everlasting eternity. a few hundreds of years and he would forget everything about you.
insignificant, you humans were.
frail.
vulnerable.
so so easy to break.
as he walked into the path of darkness; consuming him and turning him into someone he doesn't recognize in the mirror no longer—kabukimono, kunikuzushi, the love of your life, was long gone. memories like the leaves that turn yellow and crumble to ashes as winter approaches.
yet the winter will remain in his empty chest for as long as he walks teyvat. churning into a blizzard of ice cold pain, destroying everything around him as it grows. he continues to walk this wretched path he chose.
but then he met someone, rekindling the spark that was once there beneath his porcelain skin. trying to light up a burn out wick, to bring an end to his winter and bring forth the beautiful spring he was once.
scaramouche never thought he'd love again.
even after all through the pain he went from the doctor's experiments, after roaming the great expanse of the abyss, after becoming the balladeer, the 6th of the fatui harbingers, he still felt.
love.
happiness.
pain.
sorrow.
and regret.
he hates it, but he loves them, just as much as he loved you.
though he allowed someone new worm their way into his heart, he kept them in arm's reach. he cannot bear to be vulnerable to someone else. they were human, they were to die; he is a puppet, he is meant to live on forever.
but then he heard them say things only you would say. giving him lavender melons you bought off the market, accidentally calling him names only you would know.
he remember that promise you made him before you died.
"i'll come and find you in every life celestia will give me."
scaramouche did not understand what he felt when he realized that his new lover, was in fact, just a reincarnation of you. and just like that, your name burns back itself into his mind—a name he thought he had erased into obscurity, along with his past.
he was a fool, scaramouche thought. he laughed at himself, a laugh void of humor, nor joy.
it was your name, your first incarnation, just in a different language.
it appears that scaramouche didn't like this feeling. of bitter butterflies in his stomach, the familiarity when you try to get close to him, the same smile you had, the light full of love in your eyes—it was all too much for him.
so he left you in the snow of his ever growing blizzard. buried under the thick layers of freezing ice.
and again, to your next reincarnation. a fatui, a vendor, an adventurer, a knight, a scholar—male, female, neither, or all of them; tall, short, plump, slim, dark or light skinned,
he cannot bear to lose you just as he first did.
slipping by his fingers, to the one thing he is not affected by.
death.
he doesn't accept the fact that your love has led you back to him, again and again.
why do you even keep coming back? don't you know he's part of the fatui? don't you know what he has done? don't you know what he has become?
and yet you'd knock on his door, calling his name with your voice full of warmth, arms wide for him to take and allow himself to be called yours again—all he had to do was open the door.
he has kept a lock on it ever since he met you again.
worn down and rotten; chains all rusted, handle jammed and barely working. he approaches the door once again. this time, as wanderer. a better version of himself,
one that's finally willing to open the door to you.
but you weren't there anymore, waiting for him on the other side.
how could you? you were never there in the first place.
not with this version of himself.
not as the wanderer.
and maybe that was for the best. even though he cries himself to sleep at night for all the things he has done to you. weeping, as he curls onto the sheets, praying to the stars above in hopes you'd hear his heartbroken apologies, yearning for your love, your touch, your smiles—
this was his punishment for hurting you, for being a fool. he was underserving of your love, after all.
"hey, wanderer, was it?"
a new voice, someone unfamiliar. he refrained from sighing, for buer's sake, and instead took a deep, refreshing breath. he turns, and the stranger smiles brightly at him.
immediately, as if the winds of spring has hit him all so suddenly in the face. the fragrance of blooming flowers that was once buried under the snow, the sun shining brightly in the skies, and birds chirping symphonies.
like the mornings brimming with new found hope, the smell of dew sticking onto his clothes as he trace his fingers all over the a tree's trunk. like the the juices of a fruit he sank his teeth into, dribbling down the corners of his lips and down his arms.
warmth tingled on his skin, and his heart leaps.
"nice to meet you!" you say your name, a name he has heard hundreds of versions before, all so different and yet they all felt and tasted like honey dripping down his tongue. "i hope we get along."
"yeah," he says, almost breathless, as the tears begins to well in his eyes. his fingers tremble, and his smile grew wobbly. tipping his hat down to avoid your gaze, his voice cracks. "i hope so too."
his door was wide open, waiting for you come in.
you grin, and take a step inside.
 ˚ ༘♡ ⋆。˚
author's note: "i thought this was a dottore only blog? SHUT UP!!!!! SHUT UP!!! 🥹🥹🥹🥹 IM MAD AT MYSELF TOO BUT THIS IS FOR @fatuismooches also new format because im too lazy to open my files :/ not back yet, i just wanna write this for the pookie 💗💗 ty for listening to me ramble like a madman ur single handedly gettin me thru it ong LMAOOO /lh
#lovely writing <3#moots: kai <3#KAI. KAI KAIWQBDJWQID YOU LITERALLY OUTDID WITH THIS I LOVE IT SO MUCH.#first i adore the way u write scara omfg it's so delicious#ITS JUST SO GOOD IDK HOW TO DESCRIBE IT#the way he keeps changing but he cant stop loving u but one thing that doesnt change is how he keeps pushing u away... i cant#THE PROMISE TOO??? reincarnation w scara is just peak bc its like so sad and kind of happy at the same time AND U PORTRAYED THAT SO GOOD#bc he's like destined to keep pushing you away and ur destined to keep trying and trying until u meet your end .. </3 will it ever work out#OHHH U HAD ME SO SCARED AT THE END THO 😭😭 its so sad to think that when he finally was ready as wanderer yOU WERE GONE?? that would-#-actually break him fr. when he's finally ready to accept you and ur love#youre not there anymore. and the only thing he can do is cry and apologize to you abt how poorly he treated you for CENTURIES. he's finally#-free but at what cost? the one thing that made him happy wasnt there anymore. but this was the punishment for his sins.#but THANK YOU FOR ENDING IT W FLUFF. I WAS SCARED. but omfg... the bby trying not to cry after finally meeting u again... 🥺😭#he promises to both you and himself that he won't mess up this time. for your sake. maybe he can make you happy in this lifetime.#AND THE DOOR METAPHOR. I LOVE METAPHORS. HIS DOOR WAS LOCKED AND EVEN THOUGH U HAD THE KEY IT WOULDNT FIT. you could never get in.#the way to his heart was your love but he rejected it everytime. until the end. i love this.#dont make me get back into my scara phase....#THANK YOU SOOO MUCH POOKIE I STILL CAN'T BELIEVE U WROTE THIS FOR ME ?? 😭❤️❤️🫶🥰🥰🫶#ill listen to u ramble anytime. dw abt it 🥹🥹 scara is AMAZING here and YOU ARE TOO
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rae-writes · 1 month ago
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if you could do r trying on a new pheromone perfume and the brothers (separately) are js like 👁️👁️ and suddenly pounces on them and readers js so confused you’d literally be godsent😫
(my inspiration was that one Rafayel scene from lds-)
suggestive || bonus characters bc harem || whether or not Mc knew it was pheromone perfume is up for debate || 1.k wc
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Lucifer pauses for a brief second while not faltering in what he was doing, subtly trying to detect the cause of the scent invading every sense of his. He's one of the quickest to figure it out, eyes darkening as he empties his hands before gripping your waist and pulling you as close as physically possible; his face is in your neck before you can even blink and you both stay like that for a moment before he's silently tugging you to wherever he can sit down with you on top of him
Mammon's head snaps up so fast it almost hurts, eyes zeroing in on you. He knows where the scent is coming from, but he just doesn't understand why you suddenly smell even better than usual...he ain't shy as he slides his fingers over your wrist, up your forearm, going until he's caressing the slope of your neck. His breathing is shaky and his voice cracks a little when he whispers how intoxicated you're making him feel. He's got you laid down against the closest flat surface so he can run his hands over you, nose buried against the underside of your jaw as he breathes you in until he's damn near drunk off it
Levi's tail acts faster than he does, curling around your thighs and yanking you closer before he catches up with the action. His embarrassment is cut off when he finally registers the smell, too, and suddenly his face is red for a different reason. He'll fire off a million questions, adding his own jumbled thoughts in between, subconsciously latching every possible limb around you; his face is buried against your chest, fangs accidentally brushing the skin as he stutters out apologies, but doesn't stop
Satan perks up much like a cat, intense blue-green hues staring you down like he's ready to actually pounce. He approaches slowly, trying to figure out the source of your new scent on the way over, but ultimately decides to bury himself against you— your neck, chest, shoulder, nape— breathily asking what you were doing to him. He feels like he's been drugged, almost like a feline with catnip, but it's so dizzily good that he can't complain. Drags you off to where no one will be able to find you, so that your scent won't find anyone but him
Asmo is giddy the second he catches a wiff, easily pinpointing the reason for your scent change, and the exact listing of the brand you used. He's shameless as he requests a thorough product review, rubbing his frame up against yours as he holds you from behind, eyes peering over your shoulder with a bright pink hue. Cheekily insists that you’re better off without so many clothes on, wanting your scent to rub off on him so you can match (and so he can smell it for the rest of the day).
Beel is confused when the food in his mouth isn’t tasting as good as it should. The scent invades his nose, making his eyes search for what has to be a delicious source, only to find you instead of something edible. He’s all over you, mumbling out apologies and that he doesn’t know what’s gotten into him, asking won’t you please let him just…be near you? He trails after you like a puppy, not really sure why you’re captivating his entire being with just your smell. His mouth eventually finds your neck, nibbling and sucking as he tries to get a ‘taste’ of that scent.
Belphie, while unwilling to get up out of his spot, is instantly at attention with eyes following you around the room. He’ll whine and complain until he’s got you at his side, trapping you in his arms and against his lounging form. He’s almost tense, as he inhales that new scent, like a ram waiting to charge. His tone is lazy and drawn out, but tinged with a need that he’s confused about, yet so willing to dive into. He’s surrounded by you, literally and figuratively, as he keeps you tight in his arms, not above begging to get his way.
Diavolo is so fucking clueless, wide eyes blinking up at you almost innocently as he asks if you were wearing a new perfume. He finds himself inching closer to you, gaze never leaving your figure for long— a gaze that get darker and more lidded as time passes. He’s still clueless as ever, yet doesn’t mind the mystery since he’s always willing for an excuse to be with you. His cheeks are flushed and his touch a tad hesitant, but it all flies out the window when you allow him to bury his face against your abdomen, kneeling on the floor, letting his mind swim.
Barbatos takes one glance at you after catching on to the scent and knows, but unlike the pudding incident when he fled the scene, he’s coiling you up with his tail and keeping you impossibly close, unwilling to let anyone have you this time. Unabashedly, his nose is trailing along the slope of your neck, lips brushing the skin as he places slow kisses over all the right spots. Whether or not he does or doesn’t have time to spare, he’s whisking you away and trapping you against his frame, almost begging you to let him be selfish and improper as he inhales your scent with an abandon that would usually make him pause; he can forgive himself, if it’s because of you, unwilling to let go of this opportunity at your eager answer of ‘yes’.
Mephisto almost trips as he passes you by in the hallways of RAD, whirling around to gape at you rather dumbly. Stubbornly fights the urge to follow you for all of thirty seconds before he’s trailing after you with urgency. Manages to simply walk alongside you and keep polite small talk just until you’re both out of eyesight, because then he’s pulling you towards him and groaning, asking what the hell you thought you were doing walking around other demons while smelling so good. It’s a struggle to keep a dignified facade when he’s rushing you down the corridor— but once he gets you in a room, it’s all crumbling as he latches his lips to your neck’s pulse point. The Newspaper Club’s office is closed until further notice.
Solomon doesn’t really register the smell at first, both because it’s more subtle for humans, and because he was playing around with various potions— but once he did catch the smell after you’d gotten closer, he’s swiping everything to the side and placing you on the table instead. He is allll over you, not even hiding the flush on his cheeks as he inhales your scent; practically panting in the crook of your neck. Apologizes if you had something planned later, because he’s keeping you for the rest of the day, wanting to experiment with your new perfume. He knows he’s being overly touchy and a…bit desperate, but just indulge in his whims, yeah?
Simeon’s pretty sure that his heart was going to beat straight out of his chest. He couldn’t understand why he felt so warm and fuzzy all the sudden, but had a feeling it was probably because of you (because only you could make him feel this way). Shyly asks if he could sit closer to you, pleasantly surprised when you tug his head to rest in your lap. His fingers lift your shirt up just enough for him to press his nose against a sliver of skin, face buried against your stomach as his hands grip and massage your thighs. Genuinely content to just lay there and let your scent consume him, though he won’t argue if you ask to help him out.
Raphael…thinks he’s sick. Which is odd, because he hasn’t been sick in a few centuries, but then again..you make him feel…odd. Which is why he walked straight up to you and flat out asked if you were doing it on purpose— why did you smell so good? Why was it making him like this?? He’ll have to be guided, your hand leading both of his to your hips, his head tucking into your neck. He’s still confused, but more than willing to investigate. You’re so..enchanting…he can make idle complaints all day long, but he refuses to let go of you now. He likes how it feels. And he likes the way you react to him.
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yawnderu · 1 year ago
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Continuation of Ghost getting painfully Brit when he's drunk bc you're not gonna look at this big fucker from Manchester and tell me he wasn't a roadman in his teenage years.
Part I
''Did man just exhale?'' Simon looked at Gaz with fake offense, gloved hand pointing towards you while you were... simply sitting there.
''I'm just breathing, Si.'' Maybe the mix of drunk idiots in your house wasn't a good idea, but it sure is fucking hilarious.
''Why you tryin' to use logic like I won't spark you, bruv?'' He's clearly messing around, playfully swatting your head out of the way as you walk past him. It earns him a sharp slap on the arm, making Gaz snicker.
''You 'aving a laugh, yeah?'' As if having two idiotic best friends isn't enough, the alcohol in their system does nothing but make them even more annoying.
''You wanna 'ave a go, mate?'' Gaz replies, eyebrows raised in amusement as he gets into a playful fighting stance, Simon following soon after but deciding against it after a second of consideration.
''Alright, calm, calm, calm.'' Simon finally sat down, clearly holding back his laughter. The giant Brit was way too fucking drunk to even think about sparring with anyone, let alone the man who holds the record in selection for the SAS.
''Say nothin', innit.'' They both settle down for once, only interrupted once Gaz lets out a sigh.
''Are you a lunatic, blud?'' Here he goes again.
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runariya · 17 days ago
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Crash Course in Love • 3
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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
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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.
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