#I CHANGED THE COLORS AND ITS FINE NOW APPARENTLY

[time-woods]

So basically what's going on is this right

I DONT KNOW WHY IT DID THIS TO ME

GO AWAY GRADIENT ! ! GO AWAAAAYY YOUR SCARING ME I JUST WANT TO BE HAPPY

[hypnagogics]

before you read ▪︎ loose continuation to THIS

ultra loser!ellie x teasing(slightly sadistic tbh)!reader. reads fine as a standalone!! no fr sex, but still nsfw!!! loads of teasing, ellie's shy and flustered (also gave her glasses and piercings muahahah AND HAPPY TRAIL MENTION YAYYY), reader's a little insistent (but it's ok), mentions of masturbation, discussion of sex, REALLY horny making out at the end lol, heavy petting, they almost do it, tiny abby cameo, buildup AS PER USUAL YALL KNOW THE DRILL, kinda cliffhanger ending (its on purpose HAHA), different layout bc i cheated n looked at the poll oops...NGL TS HAD ME SWEATINGGG WRITING IT LMFAO don't think i have ever written something more horny....ok enjoy! + 2.2k wc

apparently both of you missed the professor's class cancellation email on this fateful day… other students showed up too, but they left quickly after seeing it was empty. ellie stayed to catch up on some work, enjoying the silence and typing away on her laptop, which looked like one of those beefy gaming computers.

covered in stickers and the keys changing color, you thought it was interesting she'd lug that thing around campus with her, instead of opting for something light and sleek. and now that leaves you. you had no other plans for the day, and had already mentally prepared yourself for this class, totally unaware it was canceled.

you realized it wasn't a bad idea to copy ellie, and catch up on some of your own work. however you were more intrigued by her, to be totally honest with yourself.

watching her from a distance, she captivated you. she never seemed to notice your stares, too absorbed in her thoughts. you watched her type, efficiently and quickly, pausing only to push her glasses further up her nose with her slim fingers.

the truth is, she's hot. but no one was hearing you out on that, unfortunately. they'd say to you, “what a loser! i don't think i've ever heard her talk.”

you felt overwhelmed by the urge to strike up a real conversation with her—more that simple greetings or coursework questions— and it was the perfect opportunity to do just that. so you got up, sat yourself down in the empty spot right next to her, and put on the most charming grin you could muster up. she abruptly snapped out of her focus, almost flinching at your presence.

“hey! you're ellie, right? whatcha working on?” you got close to her to see, being met with a bunch of hieroglyphic-looking strings of symbols on the screen. woah, smarty-pants. “um, it's just…some project, i dunno. how d’you know my name?”

she finally looked at you, her eyes round, wider than the ufo saucer stickers on the back of her computer. they were so green, the hazel ring reminded you of a polished agate stone. the scattered freckles on her face were so pretty too, you'd never been close enough to her to really take notice. she nervously scanned your features, blotches of pink blush decorating the apples of her plump cheeks.

she was so cute, and noticing her evident shyness flipped a switch inside you, what if you messed with her a little?

you shrugged at her, “just seen you around. you're so mysterious.” you lilt, manipulating your tone to make it smoother on the ears, even containing hints of seduction if you dared.

she blushed a deeper raspberry shade and looked down at her hands, fidgeting with her rings. she was somehow getting more attractive by the second, your heart felt like it was about to burst.

“am i? never thought of it that way, you're funny.” she mumbles, her antsiness obvious. but you didn't wish to let up so soon, you were having a lot more fun flustering her than you'd ever care to admit, even wanting to see just how far you could push her.

“ooh, i love your rings. where did you get em?” “just…places. why are you asking me so many questions?” you sighed and rolled your eyes, “well, ellie. we both don't have anything else to do, gotta pass the time somehow. i wanna talk with you, is that okay?” she took a deep breath and nodded, visibly relaxing. she stretched out her arm to get rid of the tabs on her computer, close it, and put it in her bag, which is when you got a look at her forearm tattoo.

“also i'm obsessed with your tattoo, you have no idea how cool you are, how are girls not all over you?” you question, taking her wrist in your hands and examining the tattoo's intricate line work, tracing your fingertips over the pigment in her skin.

you heard her breathing change in tempo, quickening ever so slightly. but she didn't move her arm away, and let you continue. she took a second to respond. “um. thanks, i guess. i don't really know what you mean.” her voice cracked when she said the last part, igniting a flame inside you, one that you didn't know existed.

your mind wandered, you began wondering what she sounds like when she whimpers. was she really so starved of human contact you could mold her like putty, just with your fingers and tongue? you wanted to find out so badly, wanted to hear how she'd cry your name out if you fucked her into oblivion. was she a squirter or a creamer? you hoped to the heavens above you'd get to find out someday. maybe it was too much to fantasize like this, considering you formally met just now, but you weren't hurting anyone if it all never left the confines of your mind.

you were lucky you hid your own arousal well, nothing out of the ordinary showed on your face whatsoever. ellie wasn't so lucky—to her dismay, but to your delight—everything played out on her delicate features so clearly, it was nothing short of delectable. 

your eyes bore into hers, the intensity of the eye contact making her shiver, and attempt to break it. “ellie, ellie, ellie, may i call you els?” you didn't wait for an answer, and continued, “do you have a girlfriend?” you pouted your lips at her, feigning sadness as if her response was something you didn't already infer.

she was stuttering now, stumbling over her words, making less and less sense as the conversation went on. she was anxiously bouncing her leg, you could see her chest rising and falling, and her face had turned a lovely crimson color, it was so strong, the flush had spread down her neck and reached her ears, making her piercings stand out. good lord. 

“ahem- no, i don't have a girlfriend. actually never have, shocking i know.” she chuckles at her self-deprecating joke, and while her smile was enough to light up a room, you wanted to slap the doubt out of her. or rather, fuck it out of her. 

you exhaled loudly, “hahh, well isn't that a shame. you're so pretty, i'll just have to snatch you up for myself then.” she swallowed audibly, greatly taken aback. “sorry, what?” “oh, don't you know how much people love losers like you? tsk tsk tsk, you're so much hotter than you realize, i mean it, els. look at you! you've got these piercings, this tattoo, you're smarter than this whole class combined, seriously.” 

she just gaped at you, unable to process what she was hearing. no one had ever talked to her like this, it was only something she read about. and coming from you? this ethereal person who starred in all of her most intimate fantasies? she rubbed her eyes roughly, convinced she was hallucinating. her mouth opened and closed dumbly, her voice box failing to produce any sound. but you were affecting her so much, especially because she lusted after you to an extent she could only take to the grave.

flashes of her midnight escapades flickered in her mind, of her shoving her hand down her pants like an animal in heat, orgasming so intensely she'd black out, abusing her hole with nothing but images of you playing in her mind, and your name on her tongue. her cheeks burned with the embarrassment of her wild actions, and she shook her head to clear the thoughts away. 

you groaned and leaned back in your own seat, exclaiming, “god i'm so bored. and pent up, fuck. it's been so long since i had sex…” that was true. in any other situation you'd never say something like that aloud, but because you were alone with the clueless idiot you wanted so carnally, you let it slip. 

“...maybe you should take care of that.” you heard her cough out, her voice coming out strangled. “i could. but that's boring.” you opened your eyes again and smirked devilishly her way, poor girl looked like she was about to go on a trip with the ferryman. 

you grabbed her hand, examining it some more, commenting, “you play guitar, don't you? guitarists are very good with their hands, i will say.” you played with her hand, pressing it into a fist, then extending her middle and ring finger. gosh, what's gotten into you? “i bet you're sooo good.” 

you've never seen a person look more flustered than she did right now in this moment. her voice was impossibly quiet, barely above a whisper, “cut it out.” “okay, fine.”

some beats of silence passed, but a thought crossed your mind. if she really hated this interaction that much, she could have got up and left eons ago, yet she stayed here and endured it all. hmm. you blurted out, “els, have you kissed anyone before?” 

and again she stayed silent, even after you waited patiently for an answer. she kept looking away, her jaw tense. 

you decided to quit the teasing just for a moment, and speak to her gently, genuinely. you shifted to sit a little closer to her and asked, “do you want to?” her gaze locked onto your mouth, she licked her lips, then muttered, “if you're really offering and not just fucking with me, sure-” 

your patience broke and you didn't wait for her to finish her sentence before swiftly leaning forward and connecting your lips with hers, relishing the tiny gasp she made as soon as you did it. she tasted like a dream.

after a split second she kissed you back, it was inexperienced and clumsy, fueled by adrenaline, but she got into a rhythm soon enough. you took the lead and deepened the kiss, absent-mindedly tugging on her bottom lip with your teeth, coaxing eager whimpers out of her, pure music to your ears.

you succumbed to the sensations and increased the pace, your tongue dancing against hers. you felt her hands fumble by your waist, and she pulled you closer to her. your hands clawed at her chest, the beautiful symphony of panting, the wet smacking of your lips colliding, and her uncontrolled moans filled the empty room.

she gripped your waist so tightly, fingertips surely leaving small marks in their wake, you couldn't wait to find them later, and you shamelessly felt up her chest, your thumbs finding her nipples—perky, hard, and poking out through her thin shirt. you caressed and rubbed and squeezed, feeling her jolt under your magical touch.

she was fully whining now. spilling needy, high-pitched sounds, this was better than you could've ever imagined. neither one of you breaking the kiss for even a second, your hand trailed lower and landed on her stomach, slipping under the bottom of her shirt. you felt her defined abs tensing, and the whisper of a happy trail—now it was your turn to moan.

she got even louder and her kisses got sloppier, and you were about to venture inside her waistband before a sudden sound startled you both. 

your phone vibrated aggressively, and with great effort you separated yourself from ellie, long strings of spit connecting you to her still.

she whimpered from the loss of contact, chasing your lips, then huffing and quietly groaning while you took out your phone, her hands not letting go of your waist. when you checked it, it was a message from your friend, abby, just saying: URGENT. COME HERE NOW. ASAP.

fuck her. fuck her and her timing, was all you could think. really, now? you wanted to kill her.

trying to slow your breathing and racing heart, you explained apologetically, “ugh, it's urgent. im so, so sorry ellie, i gotta go.” she stared at you, speechless, but nodded meekly, reluctantly retracting her arms. you didn't want to leave, and stayed gazing at her for a little longer, and brushed a loose strand of soft hair out of her face. what a cutie, she looked all disheveled and dazed. you were about to look for a paper to scribble down your number to keep in touch, until your phone buzzed again, and started ringing with abby's repeated attempts to get ahold of you. couldn't she wait a minute?

you gave ellie one last devastated look, getting up and rushing out of the classroom before abby called you another seventeen times. 

ellie was left in the classroom, reeling from the encounter and what it had turned into. she was utterly bewildered at the events that transpired, her blood rushing in her ears, mind spinning, lips still puffy, glasses fogged over, hands trembling, and of course a sticky, uncomfortable damp spot in her boxers. she leaned forward to rest her head on the desk in front of her on top of crossed arms, to take a moment to cool down before escaping back to her place. 

“holy shit.” 

im horny🧍‍♂️just like ellie after that. as soon as she got home, u best believe she came so hard she saw literal angels and deities LMFAOO (this is my favorite thing ive ever written gawdDAYUM)

yall who wanted more, hope this suffices as a continuation! @stonerzdaze420692 @womenlvrrr

[fuctacles]

<<😺😺😺😺 | 😺😺😺😺😺😺>>

if i didn't respond to your comment it's bc desktop tumblr didn't let me, I still love and appreciate y'all

Maybe tomorrow he'd bring his book here, and keep the cats company while he reads. Would they like it if he read it out loud?

Oh lord, the crazy cat lady energy must be rubbing off on him already.

The cats certainly are. He looks down at his black attire now speckled with cat hair, and sighs. He should have asked Steph where the lint roller was before she left. With great effort, he stands up from the comfy couch, vowing to himself to only do a cursory search with no unnecessary peeking. 

The entrance seems like an obvious start since people like to de-hair themselves before leaving the house. The dresser next to the door is cluttered with typical things - sunglasses, hand lotion, chapstick, some loose change, and jewelry. No roller in sight. So he goes to the kitchen instead, because kitchen is where everything goes. The cats are watching him curiously from their chosen perches around the house.

"Stop it. This is all your fault."

He finally finds what he's looking for on a windowsill next to a dead fly. He starts cleaning his clothes there, next to the fridge, and its colorful display catches his attention. 

There's an Ewok magnet that looks handmade, holding up a birthday card, and a few holiday photos, capturing smiling people in swimming costumes. Some of them look older, like the photo of a kid in a wizard robe, or a pair of bloodied-up teenagers in sailor costumes, which must be a very obscure reference because Eddie hasn't seen it at any costume party before. 

The caption under the photo reads BFF but someone added a circle of smaller F's all around the photo, turning them into a frame. Which, if Eddie's connecting the dots correctly, would imply that it's Robin and Steph. The quality isn't the best, but at first glance, he's assumed it must be a family member, maybe a brother, but he remembers her saying she's an only child. 

He tracks the other photos, but most of them are new, of the Steph he already knows. There might be more around the apartment, though. 

But he's already rolled his shirt and he'll be back tomorrow morning anyway, so he quickly works on his pants' legs, gives the cats a wave, and leaves. 

While walking back, he's apparently so lost in his thoughts, he gets startled by his own uncle.

"The cats still alive?"

"Do you want?! Me?! To die?!" Eddie screeches, eyes wide and a hand on his heart, the other holding him upright against the wall. "Why the fuck are you sitting there in the dark?!"

Wayne looks pointedly at the lamp next to him, then to his nephew. Aside from his reading nook in the corner though, the living room has no other light sources right now, but Eddie just throws his hands in defeat, deciding not to argue. Especially not when his uncle finally folded and was reading Blade Runner. 

"Must have been thinking some guilty thoughts, huh?" 

"Excuse me?" Eddie takes a step back from his course towards the kitchen. His uncle was flipping a page in his book, clearly not reading but not looking up from it either. 

"To get scared like that. Did you do something bad, son?" He finally looks up, and Eddie doesn't like it. He looks exactly like his friends just before teasing him about something. "Saw something you shouldn't have?"

Eddie folds his arms and sticks his nose up, hoping the evening darkness hides his warming cheeks. 

"I don't know what kind of panty raiding you do up there, but I'm not a pervert."

"Panty riding, huh?" Wayne raises his eyebrows in interest. "That what you boys do in college these days?"

"Do you want a sandwich? Some tea maybe?" Eddie has already turned his back to him and is switching the light on in the kitchen. "And the cats are fine, thanks for asking!"

"Yes and yes. Thank you!" 

Eddie prepares them sandwiches and teas and grabs his own book so they can read in silence waiting for the evening news. It's nice to have this, a break from busy and loud college life, just sharing silence and love for books with his uncle. 

That is, of course, until Wayne looks at his watch and puts the book down to exchange it for a remote. Eddie likes to keep his nose in the book until the news become too distracting or he catches something interesting being reported on. His uncle has other plans for him this time. 

"You know it's alright to like her, right?"

Eddie lowers his book, slightly incredulous that Wayne is still talking about it. He looks at him with wide eyes.

"You really want me to fuck your neighbor, huh?"

Finally, his uncle gets a taste of his own medicine, almost choking on the tea that he unfortunately decided to sip on at that moment. Eddie: one, Wayne: zero.

But later, the score evened out again, as all Eddie could think of while trying to sleep were the pictures on the fridge, and plowing his uncle's neighbor into her mattress until she screamed. 

The next morning, with not enough sleep under his belt, Eddie skips two sets at a time, because he totally absolutely royally forgot about the fucking plant. 

He fumbles with the keys, can hear the inquisitive meows on the other side of the door, and once he's in he takes a beeline to the kitchen, ignoring the little creatures following him like they have been starving on the streets and he was a fresh batch of tuna factory waste.

The plant looks normal, the same as it did 24 hours ago, and he waters it as per instructions while trying not to even brush its leaves because he truly believes his touch might kill it. His track record with plants indicates so. Only then does he turn to the meowing bunch at his feet. 

"Hello, little demons. Time to feast."

The cats are fed, their mouths making unpleasant wet noises against the equally wet food, and Eddie has a moment to take a curious walk around the place, in search of more photos.

He finds a wedding photo, with Steph in a pink dress and stunning make up dancing with a man with curly hair. There's one from a barbecue, where Steph is being hugged by a tall man with a mustache. She's wearing jean shorts and a sweater in this one, and somehow, looks a bit off. It looks older than the wedding one. 

But a true treasure chest is the huge frame he finds above a small bookcase.

It's a collage titled 'The fucking journey' that seems to be a collection of Polaroids from a multitude of workplaces, with the same two people present. Year after year, one job after another, until they got where they are today. 

It starts with a 1983 and the sailor costumes he's already seen. They are less bruised and more tired in this one. Knowing where to start, Eddie's eyes track from one photo to another, observing Stephanie's features, her wardrobe, and her hair change until she becomes the woman she is today. 

There was no boy in that photo on the fridge. It's always been her. Growing into herself. 

Is this what his uncle was talking about? Well, not talking, but being annoyingly vague about it, like he wasn't sure what he was talking about himself. 

Fear not, Uncle Wayne. Eddie's going to pick up every pamphlet and every zine he can put his hands on, to educate them both about who their neighbor is, how to navigate the topic and respect her the way she deserves.

ko-fi

[solarmorrigan]

The Pumpkin (Spice) King

For the @steddie-spooktober day 24 prompt: Pumpkin Rated: T | Words: 945 | CW: None | Tags: established relationship, this is very silly, fluff Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

The clues had been there all along. Eddie should have paid more attention.

It starts with the candle.

“Why does it smell like a craft store in here?” Eddie asks the moment the apartment door has closed behind him.

Steve, half engrossed in whatever he’s scrolling through on his phone, shoots Eddie a quick, puzzled look. “What?”

“Like cinnamon sugar and spices. Fake fall.” Eddie sniffs the room speculatively. “This is what craft stores smell like every year from September to January.”

“Oh.” Steve rolls his eyes. “It’s not ‘fake fall,’ it’s just the candle I have burning.”

Now that Steve’s mentioned it, Eddie spots the candle on the table, one of the ones you get in a fancy-looking glass jar, the label of which proclaims the scent to be–

“Pumpkin spice?” Eddie utters, nose wrinkled.

“You got a problem with pumpkin spice?” Steve asks.

“It’s–” Eddie starts, then takes in Steve’s single raised eyebrow, registers the catty lilt to his tone, and changes tracks, “–barely September.”

If anything, Steve’s eyebrows get more judgmental, but he looks back to his phone, apparently dismissing Eddie as a threat to his fun, fall-scented good time. “They start selling these things in August," he says. “You should appreciate my restraint.”

“Riiight,” Eddie drawls, deciding to adjourn to the bedroom and leave the living room to Steve and his mass-produced miasma of imitation autumn.

Of course, it doesn’t end there.

Eddie barely notices in time, reaching for the pump of the hand soap by the kitchen sink and stopping just short of using it when the colors register. It isn’t the usual bland bottle with its inoffensive citrus and herb scent, but something brightly-colored, all orange and shiny silver. There are little wheat sheaves and pumpkins on the label, and the scent is, of course–

“Fucking pumpkin spice,” Eddie mutters.

Fine, okay, so there must have been some kind of sale at fucking– Bath and Body Works, or wherever the hell it is that sells this stuff, and Steve had temporarily lost his mind. Or something. Whatever.

Steve can go around smelling like something that wishes it could be cinnamon all he likes, but Eddie will not be joining him. He uses the dish soap to wash his hands instead. His eczema will not thank him later, but he thinks it’s a fair price to pay for his continued dignity.

(And if Steve eyes Eddie’s reddened, peeling knuckles later in the week, and the lemon herb soap reappears next to the pumpkin spice soap, well – that’s close enough to a win that Eddie will take it.)

Then there’s the coffee.

This one is technically the final nail in the coffin, but it takes a bit to really dawn on Eddie. He maintains that he had been understandably distracted at the time – largely because he only finds this one out by drawing the taste straight from Steve’s mouth.

It isn’t unusual for Steve to have been up and about for an hour or two (or three) before Eddie rolls out of bed on his days off; Eddie prefers to keep late hours, and Steve, as much as Eddie loves him, is a morning person. This had caused some friction when they’d first started living together, but it’s been nearly a year now, and they’ve managed to work it out. Often, their first kiss of the day tastes like whatever coffee Steve’s already been drinking.

It’s different today, though. Sweeter than usual.

Eddie hums, licking deeper into Steve’s mouth, trying to place the difference, and Steve groans, tugging Eddie closer by the hips, mistaking his curiosity for passion (and, well – it’s not not passion. Eddie can multitask).

“What’ve you been drinking?” Eddie finally asks when they pull apart.

“Pumpkin spice latte,” Steve answers, and then gives Eddie absolutely no chance to process this information, pulling him back in for another deep kiss.

It’s only later, back in bed when Eddie had barely even been out of it for half an hour, that Eddie has to admit to himself: his boyfriend is a pumpkin spice girl.

And that’s fine! Eddie can be mature about this!

Sure, it’s the sort of thing he’d sneered at back in high school—the conformity of the masses flocking to whatever seasonally-scented item corporations are hocking at the time—but he’s grown up since then. Someone’s preference for a certain flavor or scent doesn’t determine their worth as a person, et cetera, et cetera. Eddie knows this.

But still, he’s only human. He does have a breaking point.

“Oh, baby, no.”

“What?” Steve pulls his head out of the fridge, where he’s been putting the cold stuff away as Eddie unloads the grocery bags destined for the pantry.

Eddie holds up the offending item – possibly the most offending item he’s ever seen.

Pumpkin spice candy corn.

Steve blinks at him. “What?” he asks again after a long moment of loaded silence.

“Oh god, it’s already infected your brain,” Eddie laments, dropping the bag of candy on the counter and reaching for his phone. “I’m calling Robin, we’re staging an intervention.”

“Oh come on, what? They’re good!” Steve insists.

“Objectively, sweetheart, they really aren’t. But don’t you worry,” he leans over and pats Steve on the arm as he searches for Robin’s number in his contact list, “we’re gonna save you from yourself.”

(Later, of course, he’ll find out that Robin has already tried to break Steve of his tendency to buy anything labeled with “pumpkin spice.” His love of the stuff is ironclad. She tells Eddie that he’d better learn to enjoy the taste, or else give up making out with his boyfriend until Thanksgiving.)

[lou-struck]

Missed Messages

Lucifer x reader

~ You have always tried to be self sufficient and fight your own battles. But when you reach your breaking point, you find yourself alone.

Warnings: Angst with a happy ending, physical and emotional feelings of stress, reader getting treated poorly for being a human, group projects.

~2.9k

You feel like there is a little stress demon bouncing around your chest. In the human world, group projects were annoying, and unfortunately, they still exist in hell.

For one of your classes, you were paired up with Olivier, a Greater demon from one of the Devildom's wealthy families, and his companions. Right from the get-go, he made it very clear that he had no intention of working on a project with a filthy human and that if you were to say anything about his refusal, it would make Diavolo's exchange program look bad if it appeared that the demons at RAD were not being accepting of humans. 

At first, you thought his threat was silly. That he was simply a slacker who wanted to get out of work. But after a while, you realized that Olivier has a strong distaste for humans and could have the influence to cause problems for the exchange program if you were to speak out against his behaviors. 

So, you put on your best face and ignored his prejudiced behavior. The subtle comments he would make under his breath when you asked questions in class, the way he would cleanse his hand with fire magic after coming into contact with something you had touched, and the way conversations would die out whenever you entered a room without one of the brothers, the Angels, or Diavolo himself by your side. 

You have been tirelessly working on this massive project all by yourself; it has stolen all of your free time, and feelings of sardonic frustration are just welling up inside of you. Now, just like the too-heavy book bag that clings to your shoulder, You are nearing your breaking point. 

The House of Lamination is a safe haven for you after your tiring days at RAD, but right as you enter through its massive double doors, you come face to face with Lucifer. The Avatar of Pride greets you with a loving expression, but he looks just as exhausted as you feel. 

"Mc? Is something troubling you?" he asks, taking in your downcast features with a frown. You want to tell him of your little problem, but he is ridiculously busy and probably has more important things to do than dealing with your inability to play nice with others.

After all, a classmate not liking you is no excuse for you to receive a poor grade on your project…

"Not at all," you reply, flashing him a sweet, convincing smile. "I'm just getting a bit hangry, I can't wait for dinner tonight."

"I see," he says doubtfully.

"How are you doing?" you ask, changing the subject. 'You look a bit stressed."

"Is it that obvious?" he chuckles, raking his hand through his raven-colored hair. "Apparently, those rubber duck toys from the human world have become quite popular in the Devildom, and Lord Diavolo thought it would be fun to give them out at RAD. So now I am going through the student council finances to determine how many ducks and varieties we need."

"Sounds complicated, but why you?"

"No clue," he sighs, "But he seems to think that I have a hidden fondness for these toys."

"Well, I'm sure this Rubber Duck event will go off without a hitch," you say earnestly. "You are so organized and capable you can make anything successful."

"Do you really mean that?" he asks, a smile gracing his fine features. You nod as he gives you a soft peck on the forehead as thanks for your kind words. "I have to work through this paperwork now, but I feel more inclined to do it after your encouragement, Mc."

"Wait," you call after him. "You better make it down for dinner tonight then; if you don't, I will personally invite Solomon to come and prepare the next meal."

His eyes widen as a shudder courses through his strong back. "There's no need for that. I promise to be down for dinner."

~

Hours later, everyone is gathered around the dinner, eating some kind of Devildom variation of lasagna that Satan made.

Beel has a whole sheet pan to himself and is chowing down as he and Belphie seem to be having a telepathic conversation that no one at the table is able to decipher. Lucifer is at the head of the table, keeping true to his promise of joining you, but he is eating quickly, clearly in a rush.

Asmodeus sits to your right, talking animatedly about something that happened today when he was at the mall, you're sure it's an entertaining story based on the reactions of the others, but you are too lost in thought, poking at your dinner plate with a silver fork. 

Although you have been working on your project for days, there is no way you are going to finish the damn thing on time. This workload was meant for a large group, not just one human.

"Mc? What are ya thinkin' about?" Mammon asks, stirring you from your thoughts. "Ya haven't touched yer dinner."

"Satan looks up at you from across the table. "Do you not care for this dish?" he asks. "I could make you something else if you would prefer it?" his dejection breaks your heart.

You shake your head quickly. "No, not at all," you say. "I love it; the sauce is really creamy, I just got distracted."

"Oh, I see." he nods as you take a bite of his dish. "I'm relieved."

"Gahhhh," Levi cries from his seat as he sets his game console down on the table. His screen flashing red tells you that he has just failed the level he was on. "I can't believe it, I was so close."

"Leviathan, what did I say about playing video games at the dinner table?" Lucifer asks the purple-haired demon sternly. 

"N-not to." he sulks, slipping the little handheld off the table and into his deep jacket pocket.

"Thank you," the eldest responds. He clears his throat to get the attention of everyone. "Now, if I could just have a second of your time."

"One," Belphie deadpans, looking at his older brother. They hold eye contact, and it is clear the youngest is struggling to keep a straight face at his joke.

"Anyways," the taller demon continues, "I have a very important task to finish tonight, and I will need absolutely-"

"That's two seconds now." Satan interrupts with a snicker. 

Lucifer, with the wisdom and patience of the oldest sibling, chooses to ignore the teasing and continue with what he is saying. "As I was saying, I require peace and quiet to complete these documents, so I will now be returning to my study and enchanting the door with a noise-canceling spell. I do not wish to be disturbed, so please only contact me if it is an emergency."

"Wait? So we jus can do whatever we wanna do tonight?" Mammon asks, his eyes sparkle with mischievous greed as he imagines the possibilities before him.

"Within reason, Mammon," Lucifer's crimson glare shoots to all his brothers. "But if I find out that any of you decided to waste your free time running about the Devildom causing problems, rest assured, I will punish you using everything at my disposal." The room falls silent as the Avatar of Pride rises from his seat and turns to leave. His massive cape swishes dramatically as he walks out the dining room doors. 

Unsurprisingly, Asmo is the first to spring from his seat. His arms wrap around you as you inhale his sweet peach-scented cologne. "Mc, come to my room. I have the cutest top you can wear tonight when you go to the club with me." he purrs into the shell of your ear.

"No way," Mammon objects. "The human is gonna come to the Casino with the Great Mammon tonight." 

Before the two demons try to drag you across the Devildom to party, you object. "Actually, I have a project to work on," you say, standing. "But you guys have fun."

"Wait, Mc," Beel asks softly, his big eyes full of hope. "Belphie and I were gonna go get some shaved ice for dessert. Would you like to join us?"

Your heart flutters tenderly at the Avatar of Gluttony's request, but the stress you are feeling is hitting you ten-fold. "I wish I could, Beel. But I really have to get my assignment done."

"May I join you two?" Satan asks. "I find myself in the mood for dessert."

"Me too," Levi quips.

"Sounds like a plan," Belphie says, looking at you with a pout. "Are you sure you don't want to come with us?"

"I'm positive," you reply, giving them your most convincing smile. "Now, you guys should go before the shop closes for the night." Beel's eyes go wide with worry, and he hastily leaves the room. As the others follow him out. 

Now alone, your body begins to tremble under the stress of the deadline looming over your head. The walk back to your desk is a long one, and tears begin to wheel in your eyes as you stare down at your assignment rubric and wonder how, in the three realms, you are going to be able to finish this project on time. 

~

It's been hours of working. Stressing, erasing, and overthinking and you feel like you are nearing your wits end. 

Your screen lights up with a message from Asmodeus. When you open it is a video attachment. Clicking on it you see that the 6 brothers are sharing a lush VIP booth at the Fall. "I wish you were hereeeee," Asmo yells into the speaker just above the thrumming base that belphie manages to sleep through peacefully. Their cheeks are ruddy from demonus, and they have the happiest smiles on their faces. 

It brings a smile to your face as you rewatch the video. Just behind Mammon, you see a figure that has you seeing red. 

He is double-fisting some kind of green demonus and wearing a ridiculous hat, but you see your classmates, the demon Olivier and the rest of your 'group' out partying without a care in the world.

While you are at home, working tirelessly on their project. 

Something inside of you just shatters, and you turn away from your desk and throw yourself onto your bed. The soft pillows muffle your cries of frustration. Your DDD feels like a brick in your hand as you raise it to your eye level. 

Your tired face stares back at you on the black screen, and you feel so alone.

You need to talk to someone…

But it's the middle of the night, Simeon and Solomon have gone to bed hours ago and Diavolo and Barbatos are off at a diplomatic conference. You know in your heart that Lucifer is still awake, hunched over his desk as he works through his mountain of paperwork.

Although he said he did not want to be disturbed, your feelings are too severe. 

This feels like an emergency. 

You call him, wanting to at least hear the soothing sound of his voice. The Dial Tone rings once, twice, thrice… but he doesn't pick up.

You sit there, listening to the dull sound of his answering machine. "I guess even in Hell, I have to leave voicemails," you murmur, waiting for the beep. 

"Hey… It's me," you say into the speaker. It's a struggle to keep your voice steady. "I know it's late, and you have lots to do, but if you get this, could you ple-please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now."

Just voicing your struggle is enough to send tears trickling down your face, and you quickly hang up the phone before you let out one of those raspy, croaking sounds loose from your throat.

Exhaustion courses through your body as you give up on completing the group project for the night. Perhaps when you wake tomorrow, you will have the energy to pretend your problems don't exist.

~

Lucifer wakes up with his head against the polished mahogany of his desk. A bit of drool wetting the surface as he runs his hands through his hair. "What time is it?" he mutters groggily, reaching out blindly for his DDD. 

He pats the empty surface and sits up straighter. Finding that his device is not in its usual place on his desk. His brow furrows as he begins to look through the mountain of papers, trying not to ruffle the organized stacks that he completed earlier before dozing off.

Minutes later of flipping and straightening, he finds it under the center stack and sees that it is flooded with pictures from his brothers, who look like they had a great, but expensive, night out together. 

It brings a warm smile to his lips when he sees their cheesing faces. But then he notices another notification he hadn't seen before. "Mc sent me a voicemail?" He clicks play.

"Hey… It's me. I know it's late and you have lots to do, but if you get this could you ple- please come here. I just really need someone to talk to right now." your voice sounds so weak and shaky it fills him with dread. 

How could he have missed this?

He stands abruptly, papers flying everywhere from the movement, but he really couldn't care less.

You need him. 

You needed him last night and he wasn't there for you.

He has to find you, hold you, and do whatever he can to make you feel better. 

~

Apparently, falling asleep after hitting an emotional low does not constitute the most restful sleep. Your neck feels stiff as you pull your head up from your pillows. The fabric is still slightly damp from your tears the night before. There's this icky feeling in your chest, but it doesn't seem to go away. It only intensifies when you look over at your desk, your unfinished project littering the once pristine space.

Your door flies open suddenly as a gust of air reaches your skin. Lucifer stands in the doorway tensely. He looks ragged, tired, and his deep crimson eyes are muddled with heartbreaking concern. You immediately remember the voicemail that you sent him the night before

You stressed him out; you have to fix this. 

"Good morning, Lucifer," you smile. But it doesn't reach your eyes. He can see through your little act. "I didn't mean to worry you with that voicemail; it was really nothing."

"What's wrong?" he says, coming forward, closing that painful distance with determination. His hand cupping your cheek, forcing you to meet his eyes.

It's funny how one simple touch has your self-assured act crumbling to the ground like a poorly constructed house of cards. 

You find yourself spilling every detail to him, your exhaustion, the group project, the ostracization from your groupmates, and how you saw that they were out at the club last night."

All the while, Lucifer nods along with your story, his thumb gently running along your cheek in a soothing motion. His actions are caring and tender toward you, but there is a fire blazing in his eyes reserved for someone else. You may not know it yet, but Olivier’s days of comfort are numbered. 

"Why didn't you tell me of this before," he asks softly once you finish your explanation. "Why did you take this burden upon yourself?"

"I was worried, "you admit. "I heard that Olivier comes from an influential family. If I said anything, he could cause problems for the exchange program that you and Diavolo have worked so hard for."

"Mc, I promise you, that little rat was greatly exaggerating his self-importance." Lucifer's hand rubs gentle circles into your back. "If anything, you have far more influence in Devildom politics than he does," he adds with an amused chuckle. "

"He's still a jerk, though." you sniffle, wiping your eyes. "Thank you for coming here to cheer me up."

"I'm sorry I wasn't here sooner," he murmurs. "You needed me, and I let you down; please let me make it up to you today."

"You have nothing to make up for," you start, glancing back at your table. "Besides, I have to finish that project before tomorrow."

"Absolutely not," he says abruptly. "You will not lay a finger on that project since clearly you have done more than your share. I will make sure Lord Diavolo hears of this situation and you receive full marks on the work you have already done. I need you to know that you can rely on me. No matter how busy I am, I should never be too busy to come to your aid."

"I love you," you sigh, feeling the burdens lifting off your chest and disappearing into nothingness. "But I should've told you sooner. What do you think will happen to the rest of my group?"

He smiles and kisses the top of your head; as you lean into his touch, you don't see the dark look on his features. "Don't worry about them, Mc, I'll make sure they never cause you pain ever again. Now, let's get changed; I'll take you to that new cafe that opened up to Majolish and enjoy the rest of the day.

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

[cyberslvts]

COME BACK TO ME || w.maximoff

Summary: As you struggle to decipher your feelings, it becomes increasingly apparent that Wanda is not willing to let go of what you once had.

Warnings: 18+, angst, arguing, Smut, restraints, fingering (r recieving), oral (r recieving), desperate Wanda(creaming), happy ending.

WC: 6k

a/n: I had way to much fun writing this chapter.

Part 1 || Part 2

———-

Your office was a realm of muted grey and white, the color palette matching the heavy clouds that hung low in the sky outside. The city rain tapped a soothing melody against the windows, filling in the silent gaps of the room. Droplets trickled down the glass panes, distorting the view of the cityscape bellow.

You sat in your swivel chair, your fingers absently tapping a rhythm on the armrest. Your eyes were fixed on the raindrops, as if they held the answers to the turmoil within you.

Through the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cityscape appeared gray and hazy, the tall buildings shrouded in mist. Your thoughts were as cloudy as the weather outside, your heart heavy with unresolved emotions.

The heaviness in your chest matched the atmosphere outside, a weight that had yet to lift since that fateful confrontation. The events of that night constantly replayed in your head, never leaving your mind as if they were following you like your shadow.

Its been about four months since youd last spoken to Wanda. Legal matters and discussions, were conducted solely through your lawyers, a clear boundary you had set. As for Wanda, she was promptly banned from your office building, further deepening the growing rift between you two.

Your eyes felt heavy as you stared out into the city. You had started to spend more time at the office, shwoing up hours before all of your employees, and leaving when the halls of the building were as quiet as the streets bellow. You couldnt stand being in your apartment. The space that once felt like a refuge now held a haunting echo of Wanda, The silence of your home was loud and overwhelming, Each room seemed to be haunted by the ghost of your relationship, a constant reminder of what once was. So you instead chose to bury yourself in your work day and night to try and erase the growing void in your heart.

It was during those late nights at the office that you would catch glimpses of her, seated on the black bench outside your building. The sight of her there was like a ghost from the past, You could see the weariness in her posture, the heaviness in her eyes. She appeared as lost and broken as you felt.

As you stepped out into the night air, your eyes would inevitably find her. Silently sitting, watching cars zip past her. A jolt of surprise would cross her face as she noticed you, and then a flicker of hope. She would scramble to her feet, her gaze locked onto you as she rushed to intercept you before you could walk away.

“Y/n, wait, please,” Your strides were beginning to widen and You could hear the clacking of her heels behind you “Please, I just want to talk.”

Abruptly, you spun around, halting in your tracks. Wanda faltered, her heels nearly causing her to lose her balance as she struggled to come to a stop.

“Fine, then talk,” you stated, your arm extended slightly as if urging her to get to the point

Wanda's words stumbled out, her voice laced with a mix of anxiety and determination. “I miss you,” she confessed, her gaze holding a raw vulnerability that pierced through the space between you.

You watched her, the ache in your chest growing with every passing second. "You betrayed me, Wanda," your voice held a hint of bitterness, a mix of hurt and anger that you couldn't fully hide.

"I know," she whispered, her gaze dropping to the ground. "I can't change what I did, and I can't take back the pain I caused you."

Your fists clenched involuntarily, the turmoil inside you threatening to overflow. "Do you even understand what you've done? The trust you shattered?"

Wanda's shoulders sagged as if each word you spoke weighed her down further. "I do, y/n. And I'm so, so sorry."

The two of you stood there on the empty sidewalk, the world around you seemed to blur, Wanda's eyes remained locked on you, her gaze a mixture of regret, longing, and a silent plea.It was a scene heavy with emotions, a moment frozen in time.

"I can't just forget what happened," you finally said, your voice cracking as you struggled to maintain your composure.

Wanda nodded, her eyes never leaving yours. "I don't expect you to. I just... I wanted you to know how sorry I am."

The ache in your heart was overwhelming, a mixture of love and pain that you couldn't untangle. You turned away, your steps carrying you toward your car.

"I need time, Wanda," you said over your shoulder, your voice laced with a sadness that mirrored the rainy night.

"I understand," her response was a whisper, barely audible against your retreating form. "I'll wait.”

You sat up in your chair, the memories of that night jolting you from your trance. A suffocating wave of despair started to build within you. Before you could let it fully consume you, you spun around in your chair until you were facing your desk. Clicking your mouse to wake up your screen in order to resume the previously abandoned pile of work.

You missed Wanda more than you could let yourself admit. You wanted to hate her, and after what she did you should hate her. And you tried, you really did. You locked yourself away from her, you buried yourself in work in hopes to erase any happy memories you once had with her, so you could replace them with the cruel and heartless version of her you knew now.

But the truth was different. You couldn't erase the way her eyes lit up when they met yours, or the way she made you feel—loved and safe, in a way no one else ever had.

You think you would always remember her this way, a constant reminder, etched deep into your heart.

—-----——-

You returned to your penthouse drenched, the rain having caught you off guard without an umbrella. The water had rendered your hair a shade darker, and you left a trail of wet footprints on the hardwood floors as you made your way towards the bathroom.

You shed your wet clothes and stepped under the stream of hot water in your shower, feeling immediate relief as the tension in your muscles began to dissipate. The air was filled with the refreshing scents of lavender and sandalwood as you lathered up and cleaned yourself.

After finishing your shower, you stood still for a moment, the steam swirling around you like a comforting embrace. The warmth and solitude created a cocoon of serenity, shutting out the world beyond the bathroom walls.

When your fingers began to wrinkle from the water, you reluctantly stepped out of the shower, reaching for a fluffy towel to wrap around yourself.

You were in the midst of lathering lotion in your hands when a loud knock stopped your movements. You looked down at yourself, seeing you were naked and only covered in a white towel. You debated on changing but decided not to assuming it was your neighbor coming to get the spare key she left you, having locked herself out multiple times.

The ends of your damp hair left small droplets on the floor as you padded to the door, twirling a pair of keys. absentmindedly in your hand. When you peered through the peephole, your breath caught in your throat. You practically ripped the door open upon seeing her. Wanda stood before you, her appearance slightly disheveled, her hair displaying a touch of frizz despite still looking perfect. The collar of her shirt was creased, and her makeup seemed to be fading – signs that she might have come directly from work.

“Y/n I can't do this anymore.” Wanda spoke before you could even fully comprehend why she was here. The sight of her there, standing at your doorstep, caught you off guard, and you struggled to process her sudden appearance.

“What? Wanda, what are you doing here,?” Your voice trembled with a blend of confusion, your grip on your towel invonultarily tightened when you felt her push past you until she was standing in your living room.

Wanda's impatience seemed palpable as she brushed past you, her steps echoing in the living room. “I know I really fucked up, but I cant keep doing this,” her voices wavering as she began to lightly pace across your dark floors.

“I dont understand, you cant do what anymore” you shot back, your own voice carrying a mix of exasperation and pain.

“Be away from you!” she declared, finally turning to face you fully. The frustration in her eyes was clear, mixed with a weariness that seemed to emanate from deep within. “I know you wanted space, and I get that, I do, but are you just never going to talk to me again?”

The intensity in her gaze held you captive for a moment, and you felt your heart tug in response. But you couldn't let yourself fully give in. “Wanda, I don't know what you want me to say to you. You lied and went behind my back for months,” you responded, the weight of your words underscored by the lingering hurt.

“And I am so sorry for what I did, you know I am,” she pleaded, her desperation evident. Her words stumbled out as she struggled to find the right ones. “Just… Just tell me what I have to do to make this right.”

Her next words hit you like a wave, unexpected and powerful. “I'll give up everything if that's what it takes. The company, the money, all of it.” You looked at her as if she had lost her mind, but the determination in her eyes was unwavering.

“Are you insane? you cant just show up here in the middle of the night-”

“I love you, y/n, and I know you still love me,” her voice cracked with vulnerability. “And I will spend the rest of my life apologizing to you, but this can't be the end for us.”

A sharp retort formed on your lips, fueled by your anger and the pain she had caused you. “Well, you're wrong, Wanda. I don't love you anymore,” you stated, your words a defense mechanism to shield yourself from the turmoil inside

A fleeting expression of hurt crossed Wanda's face, her eyebrows knitting together in a frown. “I don't believe you,” she responded with a firmness that matched your own, her unwavering gaze locked onto yours as if she could see right through your facade.

“Well you are going to have to believe it” you harshly responded, With a frustrated sigh, you turned abruptly on your feet and began walking toward the hallway that led to your master bedroom. The echo of Wanda's footsteps followed closely behind, the tension between you two was concrete.

“Where are you going?” Wanda questioned as she followed after you like a lost puppy. Her voice, still heavy with determination,

"Well, I'm not planning on lingering here half-naked in a towel,” You responded, the annoyance and sarcasm evident in your voice. “since you don't have plans on leaving any time soon”

The door to your bedroom swung open as you entered, and you didn't even need to glance back to know Wanda was right on your heels. It was almost comical how she managed to keep up, considering the weight of the conversation that hung between you.

With a huff, You made your way into your closet, turning around you shut the door right in her face, an offended expression painted her features as if she was expecting to walk right in with you.

Wanda leaned back against the gray walls of your bedroom, her gaze fixed on the closed closet door. She ran her tongue along the inside of her cheek, frustration and resignation mingling in her expression

"I can't believe you actually tried to convince me that you don't love me anymore," she scoffed, her voice dripping with a mixture of disbelief and anger, her words a response to the emotional grenade you had thrown earlier

You continued your search for clothes, the sound of fabric rustling and drawers opening serving as a background to the tension in the room. "Oh please, Wanda," you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm. "Because nothing says 'I love you' like secretly sharing confidential information with our competitors.”

Through the door, you heard a muffled sigh, signaling Wanda's exasperation as she leaned against the wall. The room felt like a battlefield, the air heavy with unspoken regrets and unreleased emotions.

"Are you seriously bringing that up again?" she pushed herself off the wall until she was once again face to face with your closet door.

She could practically hear you rolling your eyes. "Oh, I'm sorry. Was that supposed to be forgotten in the grand gesture of you showing up unannounced?"

Wanda's lips pressed into a thin line, her gaze narrowing at your words. "I came here to try and fix things, y/n. I'm not just going to disappear from your life."

“My life would actually be a lot easier if you did disappear from it.” your voice slightly strained as you reached behind yourself to hook on your bra.

“Oh shut up, you don't mean that.” Wanda rolled her eyes, her frustration is evident as she crossed her arms over her chest. “For God, sakes how long does it take a person to put on a pair of pajamas?” she slapped her hands on the side of her legs and looked up at the ceiling her patience seemingly wearing thin. There was a beat of silence, while Wanda was waiting for you to respond, assuming you were just choosing to ignore her now.

Wanda let out a breath, her shoulders slumping in defeat as she slowly made her way across the room to sit on the edge of your bed. The sound of fabric rustling filled the otherwise silent room, and while you were engrossed in changing into your night clothes, Wanda battled an intense urge. She fought against the impulse to barge through your door, to grab hold of your unclothed body, and to never let you slip away again.

The ache within her was unbearable at times. The depth of her longing for you was a constant weight, an ever-present companion she couldn't shake off. It was a desperation that kept her awake at night, leaving her tossing and turning in her own lonely bed. She had become accustomed to falling asleep to the rhythm of your breath, to the warmth of your body beside hers. Without that, her nights felt empty, restless, and devoid of the comfort she so desperately craved.

How badly she yearned to touch you, to feel the softness of your skin beneath her fingertips. How she wished she could hold you close, wrapping her arms around you and never letting go. The memories of your touches, your kisses, and your whispered words of affection haunted her every moment.

She missed you, missed everything about you. Your absence left a void in her heart, a hole that seemed to grow with each passing day. She missed the mundane routines, the simple moments that now felt like precious memories. She longed for the times when you would both come home from work, tired but content, and share stories of your day. She missed the stolen glances, the inside jokes, the way you would fit perfectly in her arms.she missed waking up to you. She missed the messy hair that would cascade across your face as you slept, the way your brows would furrow just slightly before your eyes fluttered open.

As Wanda sat there on the edge of your bed, a whirlwind of emotions surged within her. She couldn't help but wonder if you missed her as much as she missed you if you felt as tortured as she was.

And then, like a sudden lightning bolt, a horrible thought struck her. Was there someone else? someone who had taken her place. It was a painful idea that clawed at the corners of her mind, igniting a pang of jealousy that she struggled to suppress. Was that why you hadn't called? Or why you seem to be perfectly fine while she felt like she would die if she had to go another day without seeing you.

The mere thought of another person filling the void she had left behind was enough to send a wave of nausea crashing over her. She wanted to believe that you were suffering too, that the separation was as torturous for you as it was for her. But the uncertainty gnawed at her, feeding her jealousy like a hungry fire.

Wanda recognized the unfairness of her jealousy. After all, she was the one who had shattered your trust and broken your heart. Her actions were inexcusable, and she had no right to feel possessive or envious. And yet, the images of you with someone else, sharing the intimacy and love that had once been exclusively reserved for her, were like poison to her soul.

Her determination to win you back was stronger than ever. She knew she had to make amends, to prove to you that her love was genuine and that she was willing to do whatever it took to earn your forgiveness. The thought of you in someone else's arms was unbearable, driving her to fight for you with an almost desperate fervor. As she sat there, wrestling with her emotions, she knew one thing for certain: she needed you back in her life. The pain of being apart from you was too much to bear, and she was willing to confront her own mistakes head-on to rebuild the connection that had once been the center of her world.

Wanda heard the sound of your closet door opening and immediately spun around, a burning flame of determination in her chest. She was fully prepared, ready to win you back no matter what the cost was. If she had to stay here all night declaring her love for you, then so be it.

But as soon as her eyes met yours, she froze. Every single thought in her head felt like it evaporated.

There you were, in the door frame wearing a set of lingerie, a stunning shade of scarlet Her favorite color. Her favorite set. On her favorite girl. She felt herself begin to get hot as a flame of lust ignited inside her. The bra, a work of art, lifted and accentuated your chest, offering a subtle allure that both revealed and concealed. The patterns of the lace danced across your skin. The panties, a matching masterpiece, hugged your hips with a gentle grace, the lace tracing a delicate line along your waist and hips. The fabric caressed your curves with a tender touch, leaving just enough for Wanda's imagination.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion at Wanda's sudden quietness. The atmosphere seemed to shift, the air growing thick with tension. Your attire, in contrast to the serious situation.

Wanda found herself taking an involuntary step closer. She felt as if she were under a spell, her attention drawn completely to you. But abruptly, she stopped, a flicker of suspicion crossing her features. What exactly were you playing at? Were you testing her? Teasing her?

“Y/n.” she broke the silence, Not tearing her eyes off you for even a second as you waltz over to her. For the first time in a long time, Wandas mind went completely blank. All she could do was hopelessly stare.

“I figured this would make you shut up,” you retorted, a hint of playful defiance in your voice.

You took her by the belt. Looping your finger inside the leather material and pulling her forward until her lips met yours in a rough kiss. Wanda's hands immediately went to your waist, holding you agaisnt her.

Wanda felt like she was floating. She couldn't get enough of you, pressing harder into you, her hold on your hips tightening as if you were going to slip away. You sighed against her lips missing this feeling just as much as Wanda. You slipped your tongue into her mouth, moaning when you felt her gently suck on the wet muscle in return. Wanda felt herself beginning to get lost in you. The feeling of finally having your undivided attention was euphoric.

With each press of your lips against hers, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in a suspended moment. Your hands worked quickley at the metal buckle of her belt. You sudden eagerness took her by surprise. The sound of clickling metal was echoed throughout the room as you pulled out the belt from her pants. Wanda was to lost in the feeling of your tongue in her mouth to feel you gently take her hands from you waist and lightly wrap them behind her back.

Your lips journeyed down to the curve of her neck, where your teeth grazed her skin, eliciting a throaty moan from her. “Fuck, baby,” she panted, shutting her eyes to relish the sensation.

Wanda's attempt to move her hands to run them through your hair was thwarted by her realization that she was now bound. She broke herself from the kiss, whipping her head around her shoulders to see her belt tightly wrapped around her hands into makeshift cuffs.

“Where did you learn that?” her tone a mix of concern and curiosity. she brought her face back around to yours, her breath tickling your lips.

“Internet.” You smirked, Placing your hands on her shoulders and shoving her until the back of her legs reached the bed. As she fell you admired the bewildered expression on her face. She always looked so adorable when she was confused.

Wanda attempted to stand up but before she could you swung yourself over her, your legs on either side of hers. Your hands place themselves on her shoulders. Keeping her back pressed against your soft white comforters. Wanda looked up at you with her mouth slightly agape. She flexed her arms trying to free herself from your restraints.

“Y/n. What is this? Why am I tied up” She questioned, wiggling her arms and shoulders in an attempt to free herself. You ran your hands over her body, soothing her frantic movements.

“You know, you really hurt me.” you softly spoke, faking a pout, and leaning down so the ends of your hair were on her face. Wanda's eyes softened into yours, She wanted to move her hand up to cup your face but realized she couldn't given her position. “You made me hate you again. And just when we were starting to get along” you tisked your lips, faking a disappointed expression.

“Y/n. Please. Im sorry.” Wanda spoke with desperation in her eyes, The guilt slowly eating away at her heart. You brought your finger up to her lip, hushing her gently.

“You didn't think you would be getting off scot-free, did you? Your voice suddenly dropped an octave, which made Wanda shiver. The heat and lust between the two of you rapidly growing.

Wanda's eyes widened at the realization of what was about to happen. She lifted the upper part of her body off the bed so her face was right in front of you. Her lips near touching yours.

“No, baby, please,” she murmured, her voice taking on a submissive tone that sent a jolt of electricity through the air. Softly, she kissed you, her words almost a plea against your lips. “It's been so long. I need to feel you.”

With a willpower you didn't know you possessed, you pulled away from the kiss, eliciting a frustrated whine from Wanda.

“Now how would that be fair? Huh,” you teased, a small smirk tugging at the corner of your lips. The tension in the room was thick, the air charged with a mixture of longing and unresolved emotions.

You sat back on her legs and reached behind to unhook your bra. Wanda's gaze glazed over as your chest was revealed, and you discarded the bra, your hands tracing sensually over your skin. A soft moan escaped your lips as your fingertips caressed your hardened nipples.

Observing this, Wanda's mouth began to water, her desire growing. She leaned forward, eager to taste you, but you gripped her shoulders, preventing her from moving further

"Patience," you whispered, your voice a sultry purr. "I'm not done yet."

Wanda's chest rose and fell with heavy breaths, her anticipation evident in the way her eyes were fixed on you. She bit her lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh as she fought back the urge to pounce.

Your fingers continued their dance across your skin, teasingly grazing over your curves. Your hips started to grind against the flesh of her thigh. Wanda let out a groan, feeling your wetness soak through her thin pants. The low moans that escaped your lips seemed to echo in the room, a symphony of pleasure that played to Wanda's eager ears.

"Y/n," Wanda practically whimpered, her voice dripping with need. "Please, I can't wait any longer."

A knowing smile tugged at your lips as you watched her squirm beneath you. The power you held in this moment was intoxicating

You maintained your hold on her shoulders, savoring the way she practically trembled with anticipation. Your eyes bore into hers, a mixture of dominance and affection in your gaze.

"Tell me, Wanda," you cooed, your voice a velvet caress. "Tell me how much you want it."

Her breath hitched, and she swallowed hard, her eyes never leaving yours. “so bad," she confessed, her voice a soft plea. “I want it so bad”

You let your fingers trail a tantalizing path down your body, inching lower with deliberate slowness. Wanda's gaze followed your movements, her pupils dilating with desire. You slipped your fingers into your panties and began stroking yourself, coating your fingers in your wetness.

Wanda dug her nails into her palm watching your eyes flutter shut as you fucked yourself on your fingers. Her wrists burned from the tightness of the belt, rubbing together in an attempt to free herself.

You withdrew your fingers and lifted them to Wanda's awaiting mouth. She readily opened her lips, allowing your fingers to glide onto the top of her tongue. A moan escaped Wanda as the taste of you hit her senses, her eyelids fluttering shut as her tongue caressed and sucked your juices from your fingers, savoring every drop. The desire within her intensified. She wanted to taste all of you. She wanted to flip you over and hold your thighs open and bury her tongue into your wet pussy. This felt like torture, She didn't know much longer she could hold out for. To Wanda's disappointment, You pulled your fingers out of her mouth.

“Let me touch you, please,” she pleaded, her lips connecting to the base of your neck. “ill make you feel so good” You let her get a few more kisses in before you pushed her shoulders back.

“No touching. This is your last warning” you asserted firmly, bringing your fingers back to your core.

Wanda's frustration started to bubble up inside her. Watching your chest rise and fall with every heavy breath your let out, Your pillowy thighs squeezing her own as your wetness stained her pants.

Wanda subtly maneuvered her hands, sensing the belt beginning to loosen. Unbeknownst to you, a mischievous grin formed on her lips as you were becoming consumed by pleasure

“God, Wanda,” you moaned, the rhythm of your hips quickening, grinding down onto your fingers. The sensation coiling within your abdomen was becoming increasingly intense

Wanda began moving her leg up and down, matching the rhythm of your fingers. Distracting you from her movements behind her back. You squeezed your eyes shut as you felt your pleasure building to an exquisite peak.

Just as you were about to unravel you were abruptly flipped over and slammed onto the mattress. Your eyes shot open to see wanda hovering above you.

Wanda's chest heaved with a mixture of frustration and desire. She was caught in a whirlwind of emotions, torn between her need to reclaim control and the overwhelming attraction that pulsed between you.

You could see the anger in her eyes, her hands aggressively squeezing yours as they pinned themselves on either side of your head. “That's enough. You've had your fun.”

She lowered herself onto your body, her breath caressing your skin with a fiery touch. Her lips trailed along your neck, chest, and stomach, each touch stoking the flames of anticipation. With a swift motion, she ripped off your panties, her lips immediately finding your wetness. She pressed her mouth against you, releasing a primal, heated moan against your sensitive flesh. She was relentless, giving you no mercy against her ministrations. She brought her lips up to your clit and began harshly sucking on the bundle of nerves. Your mind began to muddle into a haze of overwhelming pleasure.

“Fuck- oh my god, Wanda” You gasped, Throwing your head back and arching your back into the air. Your hips began to squirm and Wanda threw her arm over your waist, anchoring you down onto the mattress. She brought two fingers up to your entrance and gently pushed them in, immediately curling against your sweet spot. Her tongue continued to roll against your clit as she took a moment to glance up at you.

You looked indescribably spectacular, as you always did right before you came. Your breaths became erratic, your hand reached down to tug at Wanda's hair making her groan into your core. That was all it took to send you over the edge. Your thighs squeezed around Wanda's head, efficetevly muffling her moans as you unraveled under her. She brought her hand to your thigh rubbing circles into your skin, soothing you through your orgasm.

‘Wanda” you pant, watching her come up from your thighs, her fingers still lodged inside you. You cry out when you feel her begin to pump her fingers in and out of you.

“Fuck, please, Wanda,” you implored, your fingers digging into her shoulders as the intensity of her thrusts sent tremors through your body.

“C'mon, sweet girl, you can give me one more.” Wanda purred against your collarbones, beginning to suck hickeys down your chest. Your velvety walls pulsed around her fingers as they slid in and out of your pussy, her pussy.

“Is this pussy still mine baby?”

“God, yes!” you were clawing at Wandas back, feeling your orgasm start to build,

“and who do you belong to.” you went to respond but your mouth fell open when you felt wanda slide a third finger into your wet pussy. The stretch made your eyes squeeze shut, and your hold on Wanda tightened. your nails grazing her back as your orgasm surged forth. The sensation was electric, radiating through your entire being as Wanda continued her assault. The ferocity of her movements only heightened your pleasure, and you felt your body convulse in response.

Even after all this time she knew exactly what you liked and how to make you scream. Wandas entire focus was dedicated to pleasuring you, her fingers pumped in and out of you at a perfect angle and you felt your mind begin to grow fuzzy.

“Answer me.” Wanda's voice was firm, and filled with possessiveness, the thought of anyone else seeing you like this ignited fiery wave of jealousy inside her.

She hovered over you as you writhed beneath her. Her fingers maintained their relentless pace, and your hips bucked against her hand, seeking more.

“You, Wanda. I belong to you,” you moaned, your chest rising to meet hers. The heel of her hand pressed against your clit, sending jolts of ecstasy through you. Your senses were aflame, every nerve alive as Wanda's fingers orchestrated a symphony of pleasure within you

“There it is,” Wanda's voice held a triumphant note as she watched your face contort in pleasure. Her eyes shimmered with adoration, locked onto your expressions as you reached your climax. “Yes, that's my good girl.” Sloppy kisses found your neck, her breath hot against your skin as she reveled in your moans, the sweet sounds that fueled her own desire.

As the waves of pleasure gradually receded, you felt your body relaxing, your breathing slowing down to a steady rhythm. Wanda withdrew her fingers gently, her touch tender as she shifted to lie beside you. She wrapped her arms around your waist, pulling you close against her as you both caught your breath. The afterglow of your intimacy was palpable in the air, a mix of emotions swirling between you.

Wandas voice broke the comfortable silence, soft and caring “ Are you okay, love?”

You turned your head to meet her gaze, her eyes a mirror of concern and affection. Despite everything, the depth of her feelings for you was undeniable. Your fingers traced gentle patterns on her arm, a silent reassurance.

"Yeah," you replied, your voice slightly muffled into her chest.

She gave you a kiss on your cheek before gently moving you off her so she could stand up. Your head that was being supported by wandas chest was soon replaced with the soft material of your pillows.

Your heart started to ache at the thought of Wanda leaving you, but she returned a few minutes later with a damp towel and a glass of water. She handed you the glass urgining you to drink it while she carefully cleaned the mess in between your legs.

When she was finished she awkwardly sat back on her legs, unsure of her next movements “if..if you want me to leave I can. I know your still angry, and if me staying here is too much for you I understand”

Your heart swelled at Wandas words, Even amidst the turmoil and the tangled emotions, she was still attuned to your needs and boundaries.

“I just want you to be happy Y/n.” she spoke, her breath faltering before she spoke her next words “And I understand if its not with me. I promise ill leave you alone after tonight”

“I dont want that Wanda.” you confessed, finally looking up into her eyes. "I can't deny that I still care about you," your vulnerability laid bare. "Despite everything, there's still something between us."

Wanda looked up at you relief and hope shimmered in her eyes, her fingers nervously toyed with a loose thread on the bedspread. "I've missed you so much, y/n. And I know I messed up, more than I can even express."

Tears welled up in your eyes as her words hit you, the rawness of her admission cutting through the layers of resentment. "I missed you too, Wanda. But you hurt me so bad."

"I know," she whispered, her voice laced with regret. “And im willing to do whatever it takes to earn your trust back.”

Tears spilled from your eyes, a complex wave of emotions surging through you. "I still love you, Wanda. But it won't be easy."

“Im not looking for easy.” Wanda's thumb brushed away a tear from your cheek. "I love you, more than words can say."

The weight of your shared feelings hung in the air, a fragile bridge between your past and the uncertain future. But in that moment, you both knew that love was worth fighting for, even if it meant navigating the complexities of hurt and forgiveness.

As she leaned in, her lips met yours in a kiss that was a fusion of longing, remorse, and a tentative hope. It wasn't a magical fix, but it was a step towards healing, towards rebuilding what had been broken.

With a renewed sense of hope and a shared commitment to heal, you knew that this was just the beginning of a new chapter. The past wouldn't disappear, but perhaps, with time and effort, you could build a future that was stronger, more resilient, and filled with the love that had never truly faded away.

As you pulled away slightly, you met her gaze with a tender smile. “Well have to take it slow,"

Her eyes lit up, a mix of relief and excitement dancing within them. "Yeah, slow sounds good."

A hint of confusion crossed Wanda's face as she glanced around the room, contemplating her next move. "So, should I... I mean, can I stay tonight?"

You couldn't help but chuckle, the warmth of her presence reassuring you. Without hesitation, you reached out, gently pulling her shoulder down onto you as you fell back onto the bed "Oh, You're not going anywhere."

Wanda's face broke into a radiant smile,. As she settled beside you, you wrapped your arms around her, holding her close. She inhaled the smell of your hair feeling more at peace than she had in months.

In that moment, you both knew that while the road ahead might not be easy, the desire to be together was undeniable. The past was a part of your story, but it didn't have to define your future. With each heartbeat, you felt the strength of your love growing, and the promise of a second chance filling the air with hope.

Taglist: @reginassweetheart @marvelwomen-simp @lesbianpizza @ilovetlcc @kittnii @romanoffsgff @justabrokensunshine @blueredg52 @bibliophilicbi @ms-brek-ker @lizardslizzie @casquinhaa @dvrkhcld @dmenby3100 @marvels-slut @pawiie @brooklyn-r-dawson @psychickryptonitebouquet @ju-maxi89 @dracarys8287

[rarilight]

Tamagotchi - Ficlet ft. Rarity, Twilight, Fluttershy

PROMPT: Fluttershy asks Twilight to bring back her Tamagotchi pet after it accidentally dies

-----

When Fluttershy barged into Golden Oaks, reduced to tears, Twilight Sparkle feared the worst. Somepony had upset her sensitive friend, or a book she'd lent her had been accidentally too sad, or worse, one of Fluttershy's animals had died.

Which they had. Sort of. Kind of.

"Please, Twilight," Fluttershy sniffed, dabbing at her puffy eyes with a tissue. "Please, t-there must be something you can do! I've only had Sorbet for a week, and I promise I've taken good care of him, and--"

Twilight pursed her lips, hesitantly looking over the small purple electronic Tamagotchi. "One minute, let me see what I can do." She turned away from Fluttershy, fiddling with it for a moment before determining that, unfortunately, the battery was likely faulty.

"Well?" Fluttershy pressed. "Did you find out what's wrong?"

"I... I think so, yes," Twilight replied, still looking over the device. "The battery is shot. It's an easy fix, and I even have spares to give you, but... Well. The internal memory of these things usually rely on the battery, so--" She turned around to look at Fluttershy, her sentence petering out at the hopeful expression on her friend's face.

"So?" Fluttershy asked, her ears alert. "So you can bring Sorbet back?!"

Twilight smiled. Awkwardly.

"Ha ha. Well. Er."

Fluttershy's ears fell. Tears bordered her eyes anew. "....Twilight?"

"Yes!" Twilight lied, because she couldn't bring herself to tell Fluttershy that Sorbet was gone.”He’ll be there, just like always!”

“Really?!” Fluttershy gasped.

“Yes! Yep. Yes.” Twilight immediately levitated the Tamagotchi over to a bookcase. “Though, I, uh, need to keep him overnight just to make sure he’ll be okay. Alright?” At Fluttershy’s effusive nodding, Twilight apparated a notebook and pen. “And, uh, why don’t you, er, write down all the information you remember about him? Just so I can make sure the coding didn’t change.”

“Of course!” Fluttershy grabbed the notebook and immediately got to work. “Oh, thank you, Twilight!”

----

It was about three in the morning when Twilight Sparkle finally decided it was time to pass the torch. With bleary, tired eyes, she blinked at the details Fluttershy’d written, and then looked at the creature she’d been painstakingly grinding for hours. It had taken her about sixty-eight reboots to get a creature with the same shape, color, nature, gender, and preferences as the original Sorbet, and she’d only just gotten to the halfway point of matching its experience levels to the original’s. 

Thank Celestia for the book she’d read on using magic to hack devices. There was no other way she’d been able to bypass the time-locked events otherwise. 

To the sound of a big yawn, she walked towards the bed, tiredly rubbing the snoring blanketed lump on the couch. 

“Rarity, it’s your turn.”

“Sssssnore.”

Twilight rolled her eyes. “Rarity.”

“SSSSSNOOOOORE.”

“Come on! Up! Why did you send Fluttershy to get my help if you don’t like my solution?” Twilight chided, far too tired for shenanigans. “And stop that, we both know you don’t snore!”

“SSSSNOOOO—” The blanket came off, and a weary Rarity glared at her friend. “Fine, fine!” She magically snatched the Tamagotchi and frowned at it. “This is ridiculous, Twilight! It’s just a game! Sorbet isn’t even real!”

Twilight arched an eyebrow. “Oh? Do you want to tell Fluttershy that?”

Rarity looked away. “...No.”

“That’s what I thought. So, go!” She collapsed onto the couch and covered herself with blanket. “Level twenty-three. Six gifts pending. The complete sunflower outfit.”

“But the minigame is so difficult, and we already have the hat! Isn’t that enou—”

“Complete. Sunflower. Outfit.”

“But—!”

“SNOOOOORE!!!!”

----

“Oh, Twilight!” Fluttershy exclaimed the very next day, her eyes now filled with happy tears as she pressed button on her little device. “He’s fine! I’m so relieved!” She brought the device to her face and nuzzled it. “Oh, Sorbet, I’m so happy!”

“And everything is as you remember?” Twilight asked, the bags under her eyes matching the ones of Rarity, who was napping on the couch. “Not that it would be different, obviously! Because it’s the same Sorbet as always.”

“He’s just like always,” Fluttershy reassured her, allowing Twilight to finally relax. Or, well, until Fluttershy frowned, peering at her electronic friend. “Oh, that’s strange.”

“Strange?” Twilight asked, alert. “What is?”

Fluttershy blinked. “Oh. It’s just… His favorite fruit was oranges, but now it’s apples?”

“He changed his mind,” Rarity said, immediately, without even missing a beat or even turning around on the couch to look. 

Fluttershy looked at her friends, surprised. “He changed his min—?”

“Yep!” Twilight interrupted. “Yep. They do that. Yep.”

“But he really loved orang—”

“Darling!” Rarity continued. “Considering your crush on dear Applejack, it’s only natural he’d switch to apples, yes? Yes,” she interrupted, poor Fluttershy’s cheeks turning thirty different shades of red. “Problem solv—”

Twilight blinked at Fluttershy. “You have a crush on Applejack?”

“Rarity!” a flustered Fluttershy gasped in return.

“SSSSSNOOOOOOOORE….”

[zombvic]

BLUE IS THE COLOR (mason mount x reader)

summary : in which y/n and mason argue about their newborn babys favorite football team

face claim : not needed

notes : im a sucker for dad fics and as of right now mason is my no1 pookie 😝 also imagine hes still in chelsea cause i refuse to support any other london team #loyal (god i miss prime chelsea). ALSO.. if u dont support barcelona or chelsea .. idk i dont think youll like this fic so mby pretend its ur teams xxx except for Madrid 😊 (i dont hate madridistas but yk im a culer soooooo) im also now seeing that the font is apparently purple but im slightly colorblind so js ignore that thanks xx

pairings : mason mount x reader (dad!mason mount)

"NO SHOT, my baby is NOT supporting Barcelona" The Chelsea midfielder argued. You and Mason have been together for quite some time already (five years to be exact) and you've recently welcomed your firstborn son, Nicolas Mount into the world.

You were born into a family full of FC Barcelona fans, so naturally, you became one aswell. Even after meeting your boyfriend, a Chelsea player, he couldn't change your mind. Thankfully, these two teams are in different leagues so you don't have to worry about having an aneurysm everytime these two played eachother (except for the champions league and thats also just a maybe)

This was a conversation the two of you have had multiple times, even before your baby was born. It was always shrugged off but now, that your son is here. It was time to decide.

"How about everytime Barcelona plays, he wears their jersey but any other time it's your jersey?"

"I'd look unloyal and like im joining Barcelona" (ironic isn't it) the brown haired man laughs.

You playfully roll your eyes at Mason's remark, knowing that this debate wasn't going to end anytime soon.

"Oh come on, Mason. It's just a jersey, it doesn't determine his loyalty at this age, just the fact that he's not a Madrid fan"

"But it's the principle, Y/N. We can't have our little boy supporting a rival team right from the start," Mason chuckles, ruffling Nicolas' tiny hair as he sleeps peacefully in his crib.

You lean in closer, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Fine, how about this? We let him decide when he's old enough. Until then, we can take turns dressing him up in each team's gear. That way, he'll grow up knowing both teams and make his own choice."

Mason considers your proposal for a moment, a smile forming on his face. "Alright, deal. But I'm warning you, I'll be teaching him all the Chelsea chants in the meantime," he jokes, kissing your forehead.

"Okay but he has Catalan blood? He's gonna be a Culer by default"

"I'm pretty sure he's gonna be sick of both teams and become a Juventus fan by the time he can decide" The man jokes while looking at his son.

"Still better than Madrid"

yapfest part two, i put out a poll and yall said i should do this but idk if its good 😭 anyways hope you enjoyed

[peoniesnro]

In Another Universe

#6. A day in paradise

Synopsis – When you are just another iteration of Park Jimin’s girlfriend in a different universe.

Park Jimin × Reader

Genre – parallel universe (duh)/ kind of fantasy/ strangers to ??/ SMUT/ maybe romance/ angst/ fluff /Infidelity

Warnings- Language/SMUT- Making out/ Dirty talks/ slight grinding/ Oral (F.Receiving)/ fingering INFIDELITY

Word count- 15k (Phew... I had to physically restrain myself from writing more.)

a/n - Well, there are a lot of words here, but I needed to include everything before things will go down, probably starting from the next chapter. Speaking of which, the next chapter might be delayed or might not come out next week due to some family events. (I'm not thrilled at all.) My apologies in advance. I’m really sorry. I hope you enjoy this chapter, and thank you so much for your continued support and reading. ♥️

Taglist?

Chapter Index

Previous - Next

...................................................................................................

The scenery of urban buildings slowly passes by you. You are very intrigued to say the least. As your first time traveling away from the hustle of Seoul. This is the first time you’re seeing the other parts of this world. So far, you’ve got to learn that everything stays similar to your world. To a certain extent. People. Vehicles. Buildings. Politics. Music. Movies. Technology. Yet, it’s not the exact same thing. There’s some good music but nothing you’ve heard before. Some intriguing movies but nothing you’ve seen before. That applies to everything. Similar in its nature but different in its contents.

That makes you curious beyond satiating. Pointing at everything and questioning like a four year old. Exhausting Park Jimin to his limit. Still, he answers everything. Laughs hard at some stupid ones. Is similarly intrigued when you tell him about how things are different in your world.

By the time he finally lets you know, that you’re finally near to your intended destination, you’ve been talking about Colleges. It was a two fucking hour long drive. A light snow from the previous night has decorated the world in a shiny glow under the sun. This place, where the party would be held is a cottage owned by Hoseok. And the moment your eyes land on it, you fall in love. Gives you that cosy feeling even before you get out of the car. It’s majestic, with white dust covering the roof. With the same white scattered around the ground. Not traditional. Has a pitched roof. Two story. Upper balcony covered in the same white blanket. Can a place be more beautiful than this?

“Wow..” You whisper under your breath. Jimin hears it anyway. Chuckles. You pay him no attention. Press your face against the window. Bask in the magical feeling. Get blinded by the glow that sun creates together with the snow.

“Right?” Jimin agrees with you. He turns off the engine. Unbuckles the belt and takes a breath. Stretches his stiff muscles after a long drive. You turn to him.

Oh! This magic is more appealing than the magic of the cottage.

Cold sun rays are creating beams of light on Jimin’s face. Changes his eye color into a lighter shade of brown. Like toasted caramel. Beautiful. Enchanting. Magic of Park Jimin.

Which is better? The feeling of warmth you feel now here with him or the feeling you’ll feel after you enter that cosy cottage. Easy. This feeling. Nothing will be able to compare. It’s better when he watches you with those eyes. Exquisite when he smiles at you. You’re melting. It’s a hard decision to look away. Fumbling with your seat belt and getting ready to join your (Jimin’s) friends.

“You’ll be fine right?” Jimin interrupts you. Apparently doesn’t like it when you pay little to no attention to him.

“Of course, I will. After you made me attend a fucking board meeting, Park, nothing is going to be worse than that.” You answer him pointedly. Open the door.

“Well yeah but uh...” He interrupts you again. This time you look at him annoyed. Not for real though. He doesn’t have to know that. “What?” You knit your brows. Jimin opens his mouth. Tries to say something then changes his mind. “Thank You!” He mumbles softly. That’s definitely not what he intended to say. You take it as that anyway. Roll your eyes.

“Move your ass, Park!” You exit the car. Giggle when you hear him lowly curses. Watch him get out. Walking to the trunk. You do the same. Stand close by to him when he starts to unload your very unnecessarily large suitcases. Because this is a mini-vacation apparently.

To say you were mad would be an understatement. The moment he let you know that this party is not just a party but a three days long stay at the cottage, you went feral. Was he kidding you? How the fuck are you going to manage a three-day long stay when you will disappear the moment you close your eyes. Then he came up with this brilliant idea. You’ll act like you have every intention of staying. And he will receive a call from his parents. Family emergencies. You’ll leave. All solved. It took him some time to make you agree but in the end you did. Of course, you did. People pleasers.

These unnecessarily large suitcases are part of the plan. Still, you think they are unnecessary. Scream overdoing it. Jimin is stupid. Extremely so. You grab one of the heavy luggage despite his protests.

“Oh, shut the fuck up Park. I can totally lift some weight okay. Be...” You lift it to take it away from the car. Clench your teeth. Put it down again. Heave for breath. Jimin is watching you with that glint in his eyes. “What the fuck did you pack here?” You change your course of subject. Jimin did all the packing. Most of things he packed were stupid. Hell, you even caught him packing a damn pillow. When you asked why he would need a pillow, he said he can’t sleep on other pillows. God only knows what other weird things he packed up.

“Well, nobody asked you to be a bad bitch and lift that alone.” Jimin points out. Fair. But who needs this much stuff. Especially, when you both know you won’t be staying a night at this place after all. You sigh exasperatedly. Ridiculous. Now you want to take this stupid luggage inside by all yourself. Just to prove him wrong. So, you huff. Bends down to lift the suitcase with your both hands. That’s when a very familiar, excited and a high-pitched voice reaches you.

“Noona...”

You straighten up and spin around. Jimin just whips his head. There’s no need of looking to know to whom that voice belongs to. In this world, there’s only one person who calls you Noona. And only one person who gets excited like a puppy to see you. That’s why you’re not surprised to find that the voice, indeed belongs to Jungkook. Standing on the front porch. Drowning in a black, large, puffy winter jacket. Like a penguin. His muscles hidden under a round form. A headband in his forehead to keep his long strands of hair away. He waves at you. Grinning from one ear to other.

You’re not surprised that it is Jungkook. You’re surprised, that he is here. You only get half a second to turn and look at Jimin. Surprised. Surprised as to why he never mentioned anything about Jungkook. Before you can have your answer, however, you’re wrapped in a pair of large hands. A yelp escapes your mouth while Jungkook pulls you into a bear hug.

“Noona.” He shouts in your ear this time. Making you wince. Is buzzing with excitement apparently. You return the hug. Pat his back. Grinning. The surprise of seeing him here wearing off. Replacing with excitement. “Hey Kookie. Surprised to see you here.” You let him bury your face in his jacket. Suffocating you. Jungkook giggles. Prettily. Lets you go after crushing your bones. Scratches the back of his neck.

“Ah it’s Namjoon. You know?” Says sheepishly. Bows to Jimin. Jimin, on the other hand, is blinking at him. Very impolite. No proper decorum at all. Takes a minute. And then suddenly grabs your hand. Yanks you to his side. You nearly stumble back at the ferocity of that movement. A sudden annoyance washes over you. Making you glare at him. What the fuck is wrong with him?

Jungkook looks confused as well. Innocently, gaping at Jimin. Lets out an awkward chuckle. Apparently is very confused about what he should do now. Uncomfortable. You feel the same kind of uneasiness. How rude of Jimin to act like this. You chuckle in reply to Jungkook. Awkwardly. In apology for your pretend boyfriend’s childish behaviour. Try to free your hand from Jimin’s iron grip subtly. He doesn’t let go. If anything, he tightens it even more, harder that you’re beginning worry about losing your hand. You put more force in trying to free your hand. Even hiss his name.

“Jimin..”

“What?” He snaps. Oh, that’s embarrassing.

There’s a tension building up in the air. Both you and Jungkook awkwardly chuckling while Jimin crushing your hand. Eyes intensely watching Jungkook. You’re actually starting to getting worried. Hence your breath of relief when a second very excited voice booms through the peaceful air of the cottage.

“Jiminiee....” Taehyung practically runs to Jimin. “You’re so fucking late man.” Complains. Yet makes Jimin free your hand when his hand wraps around Jimin. The tension pops out. Oh you’re glad. So incredibly glad. That’s the reason for placing your hands around Taehyung’s neck as soon as he lets Jimin go. You still don’t like Taehyung that much. Some choices you made, however, made you realize that you’re no saint to judge other people. So, you’ll start to like him from now on.

“Long time no see, Tae....” You pat his back affectionately. Just like you did with Jungkook. Pull away. Only to find Taehyung blinking at you. Mouth agape. As if he just got hugged by a damn celebrity and he can’t believe it. “What?” You question through your grin. Confused gaze shifting from Taehyung to Jimin. Have no idea why Taehyung looks like he is stunned to his core. Jungkook is sporting a similar look to you. Why’s everyone so weird? Jimin heaves a sigh. Grabs everyone’s attention. His hand curls over your shoulders. Pulls you to his body.

“A good mood.” Mumbles. “Good fucking mood.” Mumbles again. You don’t know what that’s supposed to mean. Nor does Jungkook, if his pout is anything to goes by. Taehyung apparently does know. Twists his mouth. Raises his eyebrows. Shrugs his shoulders and nods. Accepts what Jimin said, whatever that is. Then goes back to his normal self. Like a switch was off and just got on. Grins happily and offers his help with your over packed luggage. So does Jungkook. Eagerly takes that heavy suitcase you were struggling with. You don’t even protest. Just know he would do that anyway. Simply thank him and follow them inside. Ignoring the scowl on Jimin’s face. Free yourself again from his embrace.

He is ridiculous.

............................

If you think you fell in love when you saw the cottage under the sunlight, now you want to find a way to get married to an immovable property. The interior is breath fucking taking. Makes you suck in a harsh breath when you finally go inside. Eyes going wide again. Taking in every single details about this magnificent place. Engraving them into your memory.

The dark hardwood flooring. Furnishings and decor. Upscale. Elegant. Has a real fucking fireplace, stone framed. The golden hue seeping inside through the large windows. Woolen carpets. Plushy upholstery. The entire place scream comfort. Lavish. You aren’t the least bit surprised when Taehyung and Jungkook very competitively describe about the spacious, fully equipped kitchen. And then of course, about the hot tub.

Jimin’s hand is back around you. He doesn’t give a two shit about how your whole body trembles when he does that. Apparently, you’re a good actress to be able hide your flattering. Still, you want him to give you space. For the sake of your poor heart. Good thing you can distract yourself by the gracious view of this place.

In fact you love this. Really get the urge to jump up and down when someone enters the living area from a door to your left. Prevents you from doing so. Someone you haven’t met before. You eye him curiously. Jimin, however, finally takes his hand away off your shoulders to greet the man. Beaming.

“Now this is what they call a miracle. How the hell Hoseok managed to get your ass here?” Jimin exclaims in surprise. Hands already wrapping around the stranger. The said stranger, though, instantly starts to make a fuss about it. Pushing Jimin away and shouting ‘don’t’ and ‘no’. Jimin doesn’t relent. Keeps crushing the poor man. Until this man, with black hair, which is long enough, the end of his hair touches his shoulders, gives up. Pats Jimin’s back too. Laughs hard. And you swoon at that gummy smile.

“You haven’t met Yoongi right?” Taehyung startles you by whispering in your ear. “Huh?” You turn to him.

“That’s Yoongi. Hoseok’s cousin. You’ve heard of him surely but haven’t met him right?” He questions back. Now, you don’t know if you have or not. What if Liya has met him and you say no. So, you just stare at Taehyung’s ridiculously handsome face. Feeling glad when Jimin comes to your rescue.

“This is Yoongi. We knew each other back in college.” Jimin is giving you a look. A look that clearly indicate you indeed have heard about him. You instantly break into a most polite yet friendliest kind of smile you could perform. Hold your hand towards the man with the gummy smile.

“It’s nice to finally meet you. Have heard a lot about you.” Say while praying that you’re not overreacting. You’re not. Jimin gives you an approving nod when you look back at him. “Likewise.” Yoongi politely smiles back. Shakes your hand and bows. The way he carefully measures you not slipping from your eyes.

Taehyung sighs dreamily as you let Yoongi’s hand go. Grabbing everyone’s attention. Throws his arm over Jungkook’s neck. “Isn’t this great.” Another dreamy sigh. “What a perfect friend group we have.” Turns to Jungkook. “Even though I only know your name. But guess what? I don’t even care. I already love you.” Says with a straight face. You and Jungkook both snorts. Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yeah? What do you say then? Want to get to know each other friend?” Jungkook asks from Taehyung.

“Hell yeah! And... Where the fuck is Hobi?” Taehyung looks elated. He has a bubbly personality. You think Jungkook is the best person to go with that. Taehyung takes a look around. Save for these few people here, cottage almost looks vacant. Then it turns a facade when Teahyung shouts through top of his lungs. The sound nearly sounding like ‘Hobi’.

Just at that glass shattering shriek. As if it is a some kind of summoning signal. The comfy living room starts to fill with people. Like cats. Sauntering. Rushing. Smiling. Complaining. Seoyeon being the first to pop her head inside the living room. Her face gleaming with pure excitement and surprise when she sees you. And she loses her shit like the last time you saw her. Now though, you know better than to be surprised. You hug her back. In the same way you would hug Key. Seoyeon is the one who pulls away first.

“How come you’re here Bae? I thought you have plans?” She grabs your shoulders. Shaking you slightly. Wondering. There goes another thing you don’t know how to answer. To be honest, you to this moment, have no idea what’s the reason you’re here instead of Liya. When you asked, Jimin shrugged you off. Said just some issues. Despite your curiosity you don’t wish to pry into his relationship. Whatever happens behind the closed doors is their problem. You’re here to help a friend. That’s it. Jimin saves you again.

“Plans change, Seoyeon.” He says with a tight-lipped smile. You nod in assent. Seoyeon takes it as an answer luckily . Lets you go reluctantly when you are pulled into a hug by J. Well, of course she is here if Jungkook is. So does Namjoon. You catch him enter the room with Hoseok and another unfamiliar woman. Woman turns out to be Namjoon’s girlfriend. Namjoon introduces her as Yoona. You exchange some nice and polite pleasantries with her. Take an immediate liking to the way she makes you feel comfortable when you’ve just met.

You take turn in saying hi to everyone present. Ignore all the long glances they give you. Especially Hoseok and Jin. As if they are beyond surprised. Ignore it when Hoseok scoffs as you thank him profusely, when he shows you, your room.

“Looks like she’s back in a good mood Jiminie.” He pats Jimin’s back before leaving you alone in the room. Leaving a scowling Jimin behind. For you to deal with.

“What was that?” You ask, gaping at the now-closed door.

“Nothing.” Jimin shakes his head.

.......................

You sit squashed between Jimin and Jungkook. Back in the cozy living room. On the couch in front of the fireplace. Everyone somehow finds a spot to sit down. Ready to listen to a briefing for the three days you’ll stay here. Or for the days they’ll stay here. Everyone is offended, finding the idea to be ridiculous. Gasping and complaining. It’s supposed to be a relaxing holiday. Not a leadership camp where there will be assigned tasks. Yet, apparently these business people can’t get through it without a proper plan. Hence, this very unannounced and unprepared meeting in the living room.

Taehyung is the only businessman who’s complaining like the rest of you. You, as Kim Liya, aren’t supposed to complain. Can’t help it though. So, you join with the ninety nine percenters here. Showing your displeasure.

“What the fuck Hobi? Why did ever I fucking agreed to come here?” The man with feline eyes, Yoongi, complains from his place. Sitting uncomfortably besides Namjoon’s girlfriend.

“Because you love me Yoongi. Now shut the fuck up, everybody. Just because you whine, I’m not going to change my plans. Listen carefully alright.” Hoseok says to Yoongi before clapping his hands. Ignores the way Yoongi asks him to go fuck himself. Ignores all your protests. Makes you chuckle. Makes Jimin chuckle. You can feel the rumble in his chest.

He has his hands around your waist. Is possessively keeping you pressed against his body. Deliberately away from Jungkook. Oh, only if you could roll your eyes to the back of your head.

See, now you think it’s dangerous to be this close to him. You need to keep your distance. He may be just doing a great job at treating you like his girlfriend. For you, however, it is becoming hard to control your fluttering tummy and pounding heart. Even when you know this is just an act, it’s becoming hard to pay attention to anything else than Park Jimin.

That’s why you try to create some distance between you. Very subtly and slowly. Jimin on the other hand, tightens his grip every time you move. There’s no escape.

“Stop fidgeting around Lil.” He whispers against your ear. Shifts in his position. His back slotting between the corner of the headrest and armrest. Drags you against his chest. Places his chin on your shoulder.

Oh fuck!

“What the hell are you doing Park?” You hiss for the hundredth time since you came here.

“What do you think? I’m keeping my girlfriend close to me.” He answers nonchalantly.

“Is this really necessary?” You whispers, being mindful to keep your voice low so Jungkook won’t overhear you.

“Yes.” Jimin says sternly.

You sigh heavily before giving up. Better play along with it if you can’t avoid it. Hence, why you completely give in. Trying to distract your racing heart and mind by paying attention to Jung Hoseok. Who’s been talking animatedly for a better five minutes now. It’s not working very effectively. Not when Jimin snakes his hands around you. Squeezes you. He is fucking overdoing. Even Jin and Taehyung are giving you weird looks. So does Hoseok. Maybe everyone else does the same. You caught Jungkook gaping at you out of the corner of his eye, two times already. And now he turns fully to look at you.

You give him an awkward smile. Trying to act normal. He reciprocates it. Turns back to Hoseok.

“Okay, so now you know what will happen to your elegant asses if you break my grandma’s very precious vases.” Hoseok says with a very wicked smile. Shit, it’s bad you have no idea what questionable things he would do to your poor ass, if you mistakenly hit your toe in a wood pedestal. You’ve not been paying attention at all. It’s Jimin’s fault.

“Seriously, Hobi, you invited us all here to give life lessons about how to be responsible and shit?” This time it’s Namjoon who whines. His girlfriend lets out an amused chuckle when Hoseok points his finger to Namjoon.

“Especially, you Namjoon-ah. Especially you. Try breaking something and you’ll know how nice I can be.” Hoseok threatens. Namjoon huffs. Rolls his eyes. It looks like Hoseok and Namjoon are more than acquaintances. Given that Hoseok invited Namjoon here with his girlfriend and even extended that invitation to Jungkook and J as well. How nice of him.

“Ugh! fucking get done with this shit ,Hyung. I’m getting bored already.” Taehyung lifts his head from the couch head rest. Man really looks sleepy. Rest of the room agrees with him. Even Jimin makes some noises of complains in your ear.

“Okay, okay, I’m getting there. So…. Moving into the plans for these three days we sta-”

“Why would we need fucking plans? Why can’t we just do whatever we want. Drink, and party.” J interrupts Hoseok before he can start his important briefing. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, J is sitting on a vintage loveseat with Jin. Casually leaning against him. Since when they are so close? When did you miss something? “Because this way, it’s easier.” Seoyeon voluntarily answers that question. J scoffs. Scrunches up her face as Taehyung disagrees with his girlfriend. Making Seoyeon defensive. Opening and closing her mouth like a fish.

“What? It is stupid to have plans for all the fucking stu─” Taehyung leans forward to emphasize his point. Or he just obviously wants to take someone else’s side other than his girlfriend. They don’t look like a couple at all. J and Jin appear to be a better couple than them. You think it’s good that Hoseok disturbs Taehyung’s levity.

“Are you going to let me finish this today, Tae?” He quirks his brow. Taehyung gives him a long look. Yet, in the end decides it’s better to get through this meeting fast. It seems. Slumps back in the couch next to Jungkook.

“Okay, don’t ask questions at all if you have any. And don’t interrupt me. AT. ALL.” Hoseok begins again. “First things first…” He purses his lips. Looks somewhat guilty. You can tell the whole room goes into instant doubt at his expression. No one questions anything, however. “As you can see... uh... it’s only us here... like no servants, no chefs, no cleaners... so, what I’m trying to say is─” Someone interrupts him. That someone being Jungkook.

“That’s no problem we won’t make any messes. We can clean after ourselves.” He says that so innocently. But you know that’s not Hoseok wants. You know everyone else knows that it’s not what he meant. Hence, that smile of pity adorning his lips.

“That’s so nice Jungkookie.” Hoseok nods in approval. Takes a nervous glance at the rest of you.

“What is it, Hyung?” Jimin finally quirks up. Voicing his concerns loud. Scepticism laced in his voice. A beat of silence passes where you all stare into Hoseok’s face. To a point the curiosity became unbearable. Jimin takes the chance in for all of your benefit. Straightens up. Forces you to straighten up too. “Don’t fucking tell me that you want us to fucking cook, clean and do all the shits by ourselves.” Jimin screeches in your ear.

“And do the grocery shopping. There are nothing edible in here.” Hoseok answers Jimin so calmly. But makes everyone’s head whip to him in light speed. Gasps of disbelief filling the room up. Quickly turning into one white noise of complaints.

“What the fuck Hobi?”

“Seriously dude!”

“Want us to do what now?”

“Yah! I thought this was a relaxing holiday.”

“Shit I came here to live the luxury life I can’t afford. Now I have to cook? And clean?”

“I hate fucking grocery shopping.”

“Dude, there’s no single shop within a 50-kilometre radius here.”

All the complaints are entangling. It’s almost impossible to make out who’s saying what. Looks like someone threw a stone into a hive. Hoseok takes a deep breath. Stays silent for a minute, allowing his friends to throw their tantrums before shouting above all the noises.

“Shut the fuck up, y’all. Don’t fucking act like damn kids. You fools cook all your meals anyway. What’s the big problem doing it here?” He questions, placing his hands on his hips. It’s Yoona who smartly answers that question.

“That’s exactly the problem here Hobi. We do that every day, and we came here to do nothing. We came here to party and get drunk. Have sex...” Namjoon’s ears go red at that, but she ignores him. Couple of people protest of the idea of having sex part but she ignores them as well. “And relax. Do you get me, Hobi? We came here to act like we are fucking rich!” Finishes her aggravated rant. You all agree with her. Nods and unrecognizable noises or approvals.

“Well, too bad for you fuckers. Hate to break it to you but if you don’t cook, no food. If you don’t go shopping, you can eat the fucking snow. And…. If someone doesn’t get the fireworks done, there’ll be no fireworks tonight.” He claps his hands one more time. Sits back. Is done with trying to convince his friends. No argues are allowed. The room is back into an awkward silence before it goes all frantic yet again.

“You want us to set the fireworks up?” Jimin leans even more forward. Doesn’t let you go though. Annoying. Good thing you are questioning Hoseok up. No time to worry about Jimin’s hands. “Does anyone know how to do that?” You question but no one answer your question in particular.

“This is the best fucking party I’ve ever been to. Thought you were damn rich Hoseok.” Yoongi almost gets to his feet. Yoona drags him back to his seat.

“Wait. Wait, guys.” Says but that goes into deaf ears. So, she rises her voice an octave. “GUYS!” That works. All eyes are on her now. “Guys... I know we all want to kill our host, but we can’t...” Throws a murderous glance to Hoseok. Which he dismisses with an eye roll. “Unfortunately.” Yoona adds. Sighs heavily. “So, I guess since we are all here now and not like that, we can go back either─”

“Oh, I totally can go back.” Yoongi says that to Hoseok.

“You can Yoongi, but you won’t. I’ll glue your ass into the chair if you try to.” Hoseok replies. Sassily. Two cousins glare at each other for a minute before Yoona picks up again. “Yes, so since nobody would leave, I think it’s better we accept our destinies.” She looks at every person.

“You want us to drive back for groceries, Noona?” Jungkook questions her.

“Do you know what else we can do?” Yoona throws another unpleasant glance at Hoseok. He is whining now. Saying something about how everyone is stupidly dramatic. Jungkook sighs next to you.

“Ah fuck! Why do I feel like I’ve been scammed?” He mumbles. J agrees eagerly. “Right? It’s your fault Joonie, you dragged us here. Deceived us.” Says to Namjoon.

The guy’s jaw drops down. Eyes wide. “What did I do? I asked, and you guys were like over the fucking moon.” Defends himself.

J leans up. “Jungkook did. I didn’t.” Gestures to Jungkook. He gasps. “I fucking did no─” Starts but J cuts him down.

“Oh, come on, all Namjoon had do to was say that Miss Liya would be there, and you jumped headfirst.” She exposes Jungkook heartlessly, making him go pink. You whip your head to him. He did what now? Why? He stutters something about how that’s not true, as Jimin’s hand impossibly tightens around you. Divert your attention from Jungkook to him. Is this guy serious? He leans back down. You turn your head slightly to catch him burning holes into Jungkook’s already reddened face. Fucking absurd.

“All right my dear friends. Enough.” It’s Jin who finally decides he needs to get the kids under control. Jimin told you he is the oldest. Was complaining like the youngest a minute ago, however. Miraculously, has got his head up apparently. “Like Yoona said, either we will work and survive or go back.” Gestures to the door with his thumb. “Or die here.” Adds that on a second thought. A couple of whines leaves but no one’s saying no. Jin continues. “Let’s get into this again, shall we?” Leans forward and places his elbows on his knees. Interlaces his fingers together. Knits his eyebrows. Well, now, you think he looks like a CEO. For the rest of the three co-owners of RUN, you think they are still in high school. Jin looked the same a second ago. The duality.

“So, who’s going to get the groceries?” Jin questions. And for the first time, the room goes into a silence that a drop of a needle would sound like a bomb detonating. You take a look at everyone. Gasping when Jimin suddenly hides his face in your neck. Jungkook turns to Taehyung instantly. They start a very interesting conversation. Yoongi is on his phone with a deep focus. Yoona is clutching her stomach while Namjoon starts to console her. J is fucking sleeping. Seoyeon is inspecting her nails, as if this is the first time she saw them. Even Hoseok is finding something interesting on the ceiling. Being the only person without an interesting work to do, you yank Jimin’s hand into your face. What a safe place to hide.

“Yah! Seriously. You guys want to die?” Jin shrieks. Making all of you jump. Like that, the whines of complaints are back. Jin shushes you all, however. Just by glaring.

“Let’s draw names.” He says calmly. Nobody says anything. Just blinking at his handsome face. “Let’s draw names and assign chores to everyone.” Jin briskly gets up.

“But that’s not fair…” Taehyung starts.

“Shut up, Taehyung.” Jin disappears through a door.

…………………………………….

“Okay, here’s how this goes. You pick a name from here” Jin shakes the bowl with piece of papers in his hand. “It’s not like we have to clean anything up until we make a mess. So, we will figure that shit tomorrow. For now, kids, we want three people for groceries, three to cook, three to set up the fireworks. Two will manage the decorations. All good?” He questions. You badly wish to be assigned to decoration. That’s the easiest task here. Jin shakes the bowl again after you all nod.

“We all will pick names up. I’ll start and J, Joon pick a one too. Whoever’s name is on our hands, they are going to be assigned for cooking.” Everyone nods again. Apparently, have accepted the cruel fates. Rest of you watch the three of them picks papers up. Unfold. Smiles of relief wash over their faces. Which mean only one thing— none of them picked their names up.

“I got Yoongi.” J exclaims happily. Yoongi groans loudly. J’s smile quickly vanishes. “At least you don’t have to go grocery shopping now.” She says to Yoongi with the realization of she isn’t safe yet. “I got Jungkook.” Jin says, showing the paper to Jungkook. He groans slightly too. Everyone’s attention turn to Namjoon. “It’s Liya.” He says casually. It takes you almost a minute and a nudge from Jimin to realise that it’s your call.

“Me?” You question.

“Yes, you.” Namjoon answers. You slump in your seat. Cooking is too much work. Groan in complain like the rest of your assigned partners did. Jungkook, however, is back to ecstatic mood the moment Namjoon says the name ‘Liya’. “Noona.” He elbows your side. Gives a thumbs up. “I’m good at cooking don’t worry.” Says with that goofy grin. Apparently, it’s not only Jimin who’s absurd here. Jungkook is crazy too. Why would he be that happy to partner with you. How fucking random is this guy?

“Yah yah! This isn’t fair. Let’s draw that round again.” You’re blinking at Jungkook when Jimin protests. Frowning. Shakes his head violently. Others ask him to fuck off. “No, Jimin. You do what you’re assigned to do. No negotiations.” Jin finalises the cooking crew. Jimin is pouting hard. You’re gaping at him. He really is something. You’re surrounded by crazy people.

“Okay now for the fireworks.” Jin passes the bowl to Yoona. She, Yoongi, and Hoseok draw some names out.

“Ah it’s Hoseok.” Yoona practically yells in excitement. Rest join in with her.

“Suck it up you idiot.” Yoongi shows his pink gums again. Hoseok curses everyone out. Shows both of his middle fingers. Amidst the painful chore assignments, everyone has a moment of pure joy at Hoseok’s misery. Then the task is back on the run. Yoongi unfolds his paper. Looks at Jin. “It’s you” Says and shows the name written on. Jin blinks at Yoongi. “Fuck. Great.” Cups his cheeks.

“Karma is a bitch, Jin.” J says sternly. Hoseok looks at his paper too. Is very despondent. “It’s Seoyeon.” Mutters under his breath. Throws the paper away. Seoyeon’s eyes go wide.

“But I don’t know how to do that.” Points out the obvious.

“No do we Seoyeon.” Jin makes it worse. “We’ll find a way though.” Nods in assurance. Well, good for them. Hoseok gives the bowl to still wide-eyed Seoyeon. She picks one up like a robot. Passes the bowl Taehyung. He does the same and hands it to Jungkook.

“This is for groceries.” Jin announces. Seoyeon is the one who first glances at the name. Lets out a noise. “It’s Jimin.” Says timidly. Jimin whines so loudly next to you.

“Fucking hell! Can’t we trades tasks with someone else?” Wonders.

“NO Negotiations, Park Jimin.” Jin reminds. Jimin slides out of the couch on to the floor. You nudge him with your foot.

“Yah! Don’t be fucking dramatic.” You mutter when he grabs your foot and holds on to it. Brilliant. Now you have to deal with that too. You try to free your foot when Taehyung gasps.

“How fucking cruel is my destiny. It’s me. I chose my own fucking name.” He shows his cruel fate to everyone. Jungkook pats his back in pity. Unravels the next person who will face their fate. Looks at that name. Snorts. Beams. His whole face lightening up. Starts laughing hardly. His pats on Taehyung’s back turn into slaps.

“Who is it?” Yoona perks up. Some other people too. Including Jimin who’s still holding on to your foot. Jungkook finds it hard to calm down. Is buzzing with happiness.

“J… It... it’s J…” Manages through his giggles. “Aahh... This is finally fun.” Shakes a very bewildered Taehyung by his neck.

“Oh, you fucking asshole!” J almost reaches him when Jin grabs from her hoodie.

“We want him alive, please.” He says as he makes a scowling and pouting J sit back. Jungkook holds the bowl to you. There’s no need to look at the last two names. You take it anyway. Pick both papers but don’t look at them.

“Well, it’s obviously you two who are left. So, it’s you on the decoration duty.” You say to the Yoona and Namjoon. They exchange an excited look.

“See, this is the destiny.” Namjoon says to Yoona very dramatically. She wipes an imaginary tear off. Most of you roll your eyes’. Yoona nods in agreement with Namjoon for a second. Then she freezes. Something clicks on her mind.

“Wait, wait.” She holds a hand up.

“What?” Namjoon quirks.

“You’re clumsy as hell baby. You’re going to double my workload.” She says. Namjoon gasps in disbelief.

“Can we exchange partners?” Yoona looks hopefully at everyone.

“NO!” That’s the first time everyone agrees into one thing. Or not. Jimin is all down for the idea. Perking up happily and hugging your leg.

………………………………..

The preparations for the midnight party are going well according to the plans. You have to wait until Jimin and others are back with the groceries to start preparing your meals. You, Yoongi, and Jungkook are given the freedom to choose whatever you want to cook. So, you chose Jjimdak paired with rice and some other side dishes. Yoongi and Jungkook apparently are very aware of what they are doing. So do you, but you’re not the best. Baking is your forte. Cooking is not. You can manage though.

The three of you just kill time in kitchen, getting to know each other. Joking and laughing. Bonding. Min Yoongi is a great guy to your judgment. Doesn’t like physical affections at all. Nor does he like waking up in the morning. Who does? Is lazy like a cat but works hard when he puts his heart and mind into something. You like him. You already like Jungkook. He lets you know that he or J finished his essay. You know it’s J who did.

“You are a vlogger?” Jungkook leans over the kitchen island. You do the same. You both gaping at Yoongi.

“What?” The guy in attention asks as his ears go adorably red. “Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in. “That’s fucking amazing. What kind of vlogs do you make?” You add the last part. Yoongi waves his hand off.

“Oh, c’mon, what’s so amazing there? You own a damn business, Miss CEO.” He points out. Oh, shoot, you always forget that. It’s your turn to wave it off. Shrug it away.

“Tell us what kind of vlogs you do Mr. Min. We wanna know.” Ask instead. Look at Jungkook to see if he agrees. He does with a firm nod.

“Aahh... Mainly travel vlogs. But I do other things too. Like daily vlogs. Studio tou—” Jungkook’s gasp is what disturbs Yoongi. “What studio?” He is genuinely curious, and so are you.

“Photography?” Yoongi raises his brow.

“Wow....” You and Jungkook chime in again. “You are a vlogger and a photographer? How many subscribers do you have? Do you have fans? Did you study photography? Is it a side hustle?” Jungkook is practically standing now.

“Jungkook..” You try to make him sit back and stop being so nosy. But Yoongi chuckles and fishes for his phone. Shows you his channel. You both peer at the screen. Eyes going wide.

“15 fucking million?” You’re in sync with Jungkook again. “You have 15 fucking million subscribers?” You gasp. Are on your feet too. You and Jungkook both standing and leaning over the counter. Crowding Yoongi’s space. “I’m uh... Closer to sixteen now actually.” Yoongi states with a bashful expression.

“Holy fuck, Hyung. Do you work alone?” Jungkook asks again while you sit back. Blinking in disbelief. Yoongi says something about having a crew. Of course, it’s a huge channel, he would need a staff to handle that. You grab from Jungkook’s hoodie to make him sit.

“Please hire me too. I’m good at editing. If you do, I can drop out of the university.” Jungkook says with a straight face. You ask Yoongi to hire you too. He snorts. Which turns into a laugh. So, you all laugh. Keep conversing about life and stuff. Listening to Yoongi’s best vlogs and Jungkook’s nosy roommate.

Others left on the cottage have started their assigned works right away. You hear the sounds of annoyance and complains from the backyard. Hear something clatter and shatter from the living room. Makes you worried for Namjoon’s ass. Yet, nothing happens. Fortunately. Namjoon is quite safe, even when you are starting to cook finally. Jimin, J and Taehyung are back with groceries enough for a whole week.

“Why would you buy so many water bottles? There’s clean water here.” Jin peers into the still unsorted grocery bags. You and Jungkook are taking out what you need to prepare your dinner. Jimin is sitting on a kitchen island stool. Taehyung next to him. The kitchen is too crowded and is putting Yoongi on the edge.

“Yah! Will you lot go away? Are you finished with the fireworks Jin?” He looks up from the recipe he has been looking in his phone. “Nope.” Jin casually answers.

“Then what the fuck are you doing here? Go back.” Yoongi waves his hand. In a motion shooing Jin away. The bugger isn’t even budging, however.

“I’m done with that two. Hoseok wants to launch Seoyeon into the sky.” He informs as taking a seat on the other side of Jimin. Taehyung snorts loudly when everyone gives him a judgmental look. He mouths a ‘what?’. Unbelievable.

“Well, I don’t care, Seokjin. Go away, and take these two with you. And maybe you can launch my cousin into the sky as a favour to me.” Yoongi gestures at Jimin and Taehyung. Jimin instantly grabs the kitchen island. As if Jin will drag him across the floor. “I am not going anywhere Hyung.” He states, catching your eye. Is he here because of you? You roll your eyes.

“Seriously Jimin? You’re crowding the space. Go away. Shoo. Shoo.” You walk over, waving a napkin at him. Jimin just watches you approaching. That familiar glint on his eyes. Challenging you. You should’ve expected it when he turns around to face you. Grabs your hand. Gives you only a second to process. “I.” Yanks you to him. Your eyes go wide. “Will.” Turns you around. Your mouth drop open. “Not.” Pulls you onto his lap. “Go anywhere.” Says in your ear. You squeak. Of course he would.

Heat starts to rush into your face. He is really impossible. And is certainly overdoing. It’s confirmed when Jin shouts a ‘Hey’ along with you. You’re mortified. Especially, when Jimin turns around on his stool with you still on his lap. Forcing you to face the people on the room. You look at Jungkook and Yoongi with your face on fire. Yoongi ignores your silly games. Sighs heavily before paying his attention to the recipe back. Jungkook looks you in the eye, however. Face void of emotions, but awkwardly smiles when he catches you looking.

God! Even with being shy, you like this. Like the way Jimin just casually hides his face in the crook of your neck. In front of everyone. Like how his hands protectively curls around you. Your brain is going haywire. Heart starting to pound against your ribcage. Here you go again. You need to put distance.

You pat Jimin’s hand. “Okay, do whatever you want. Just let me go Jimin. I need to help.” You mutter that into his ear. Turning your head uncomfortably. Jimin gives you a look. For a minute, it appears he won’t listen. “Let go Jimin.” You say bit sternly again. Raise your brows. And practically pry his hands off you. He keeps you on his hold for another long minute. Then frees you. You swear you see something flicker in his eyes. Like hurt. Is furrowing his brows deeply. There’s no reason to be hurt, however. So, you ignore that and start washing vegetables following Yoongi’s instructions.

Jimin doesn’t go away. Stays in his place. So do Jin and Taehyung. Bugs the life out of you. Poke their heads into everything. Taehyung and Jin do. Jimin is awfully quiet. You decide to let it go. Think he’ll come around.

There was an uneasy tension in the room after the first minute when you retrieved back to your work from Jimin’s lap. Feels like your fault. So, you do your best to make small talks, jokes and keep the conversation flows. It takes some time but, in the end, you’re laughing hard again. So hard that you have to press your forehead into Jungkook’s arm or chest to control yourself. Hands preoccupied with cutting vegetables for side dishes. Jungkook laughs too. Everyone does, including Yoongi sometimes. Everything is back to fun.

Only one who doesn’t is the blonde man. You would’ve been more worried if you had noticed. But you don’t. Not at least until you’re back in your room. Not until he simply asks you to use the shower first and then leaves you alone.

Oh, did something happen?

……………………………

The dinner that you poured your heart and soul into went rather well. Everyone praised you. You passed all the compliments to Jungkook and Yoongi. Because it’s them who really did the hard work. You just did what they asked you to. Now the dinner was over, and everyone is cozied up back in the living room, music flowing through the giant speakers. Yoongi had brought them apparently. You sit on the couch again. Sipping red wine. The plan was you’ll drink but Jimin won’t. He has to drive back. In the middle of the night. There’s snow falling. Gives you a bad feeling about leaving early. Leaving this cozy place into the cold winter.

Jimin is in the other corner of the room. Is in black slacks. White button down shirt, untucked. Sleeves rolled up. Chelsea boots. Rings adorning his fingers. That god damn earing is back. You noted that he doesn’t wear it always, but you do like it too much when he does. Blonde hair groomed well and shining under the gold hue in the cottage.

Somewhere between your meal preparation and returning to the room, something definitely happened. Jimin has been very moody for quite while. Haven’t talked to you for a sometime now. Or haven’t talked on good terms. Just a few words exchanged here and there. See, now you want to act nonchalant and not give a fuck. You came here as a good friend. And are doing him a favour. He shouldn’t be treating you this way. He does. And instead of minding your own business, you’re so worried.

He even disregarded you when you asked him if he likes your dress. The dress you brought. The dress as in, champagne colour. Long sleeves. Covers up to ankles but has a long slit up to your upper thigh. Has a deep cut neckline to show just the right amount of cleavage. Fits you perfectly in your curves. You felt beautiful in it. Was it so wrong to expect a compliment from Jimin? Why do you expect that anyway? Why did you feel a pang in your chest when he just dismissed you?

He is preposterous. For acting that way. Not giving a second of his attention for you but doubling over with laughter when Hoseok says something. You can’t fathom what’s wrong. Why is he giving cold shoulder to you? Earlier in the day he was all over you. Practically clinging to your side. Sure, he must’ve been doing a great acting. But still confuse you that he suddenly isn’t? What went wrong?

You are forced to avert your gaze away when someone plops down next to you. That someone being Seoyeon as she casually leans her head in your shoulder. Relaxes. You just let her. Focus on Jimin. It’s becoming tiring now.

“I hate Taehyung.” She blurts that out completely out of the blue.

“Huh?” You try your best to take a look at her face.

“I hate my boyfriend Liya. I hate him.” She repeats. You can’t see her face. Her hair covers her face completely. Yet, you can hear the hurt in her voice. Fuck, this is something that the package doesn’t include. You’re supposed to be Jimin’s girlfriend and that’s it. This thing with Seoyeon shouldn’t be your problem. Especially, when you don’t know what you should tell her now.

“Um… why is that?” You cautiously and uncomfortably ask. Eyes wandering to Jimin back. Need him to barge in and save you. He catches you looking but disregard you cruelly. There’s that pang again.

“You know why?” Seoyeon brings your attention back to her. How could you know?

“Um... well... is that because... you know?” You are not sure what you’re talking about. Funny how she nods. You let out a sneaky breath. Good. You’re doing just fine. Seoyeon straightens up suddenly. Is very drunk already. Points at Taehyung having a happy conversation with J and Jungkook.

“See? See how happy he is? Why can’t he be that happy with me?” Her voice sounds whiny. You take a look at Taehyung. Then back at Seoyeon. She looks like she is about to cry. You’re starting to panic. Oh God, you have no idea how to console her. On top of everything you feel shit to know that Taehyung cheats and you can’t tell her. So, you just open your mouth without a word leaving.

“I try my best you know?” She is asking from you. “Try my best to be the one for him. But he just doesn’t care. Why? Why he can’t… just…” Her voice cracks. Oh shit, shit, shit. She is going to cry. You don’t know what to do. You put your hand on her thigh tentatively.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry now. I… mean... what I mean is... you know... if he can’t see your worth that’s his problem. You… you shouldn’t be ruining your day thinking about that.” What are you talking about. Seoyeon gives you a deadpan look.

“Like it’s that easy.” At least her teared-up eyes are dry now.

“I know it’s not easy Seoyeon but─”

“Why are you calling me by my full name?” She looks at you curiously. You throw another look at Jimin. He isn’t at where he was a minute ago. Oh, you need him now. You clear your throat. Are about to say something you’re not sure of when she starts again.

“Well, yeah whatever, I shouldn’t cry. That’s the moral of the story.” Smiles very drunkenly. Another breath of relief leaves past your lips. You want her to go. She doesn’t. So, you cheer for her. Gulp down the remainder of your wine. Use that as an excuse to leave for a refill.

“Wait?” She interrupts you. You sit back, whining mentally. “How are you back to be so lovey dovey? I mean that’s cringy as hell dude but I’m happy. But also so surprised to see Jimin all over you. Did something happen? Like did you fight to a point of breakup and then realized you can’t live without each other. Should I try that tactic with my man?” Seoyeon looks back at Taehyung. You, however, is dumbfounded. What does she mean? She is surprised to see Jimin all over you? God, you don’t know how to answer these questions.

It’s becoming unbearable at this point. Maybe, at a different time where your mind isn’t so preoccupied with wondering what’s wrong with Park Jimin. At a time where you don’t feel so restless. You would have managed to come up with something clever and plausible. Not now though. You want out. Want to find out what you did wrong that Jimin is back to avoiding you.

Seoyeon is still hopefully looking at you. You sigh heavily. The first thing comes to your mind is communication. The thing everyone says to be very important. So, you lecture her about good communication. Something you heard from a movie. Finally, excuse yourself for more alcohol. Leaving behind a Seoyoen who’s lost in her head.

Good communication, your foot. You need to find Park Jimin. Even though you don’t want to seem caring. Because, why would you care? Why do you feel like you need to apologise? Fix things. You don’t want to. But still, you will.

That was your pure intention when you spot him entering the kitchen with Taehyung. Just as you put the bottle of wine back. They stumble inside. You catch Jimin’s eyes. Keep your gaze without wavering. They both stop middle in the kitchen. An awkward silence falls. Only for a moment. Taehyung breaks the silence with an unnecessarily loud noise.

“My best friend’s beautiful girlfriend….” He yells. Makes Jimin winces next to him. Practically sprints to you when Jimin grabs him by the shirt collar.

“Yah! Let me properly welcome my best friend’s girlfriend dude.” Taehyung complains as he wiggles in Jimin’s grasp. It’s not been long since the drinks started to appear. You find it beyond hilarious that there are people already babbling like Kim Taehyung.

“Fucking lightweights.” Jimin gives you a simple explanation. You nod accepting. Jimin lets Taehyung go after a couple minutes of struggling. He makes a beeline towards you. Wraps his hands around you from your side. Squeezes and sways you. Jimin heaves a sigh.

“Don’t fucking assault my girlfriend dude.” He has to drag Taehyung into a stool to save you. Taehyung is back to complaining. You giggle. If it weren’t for the sudden change of Jimin’s behaviour towards you. You might say this is one of the best days in your life. You hate this feeling. The feeling of restlessness at his aloof. You curiously watch Jimin silently fills a glass of water. Hands it to Taehyung despite his protests. Stare intensely at his face. As if that’ll give away some signals.

“This party is so fucking boring man. Isn’t it? Yah! It’s like we are at a business party. Why does everyone talk within themselves.” Taehyung puts the glass back on the counter with a bang. Watches between you and Jimin, waiting for either of you to agree. But when you don’t, he further clarifies his point.

“I mean, look at us. What were you doing all alone here future Mrs. Park?” He asks you. You point at your wine glass. “See, drinking alone. Why did you let this pretty woman drink alone Jiminie?” He asks Jimin. Jimin gives you a look. You shrug your shoulders. Taehyung bangs his fist on the counter. Startles you both then whine in pain.

“Ow... fuck... that hurt.” He waves his hand. Jimin scoffs.

“Good thing you still can feel pain.” Rubs his forehead in frustration. Taehyung ignores him.

“Well, let’s play a game.” Says excitedly. Already in his feet and leaving before you or Jimin can respond.

You sigh heavily. Now, finally you are alone with Park Jimin. So, you turn to him slowly. Nervously. He is already watching you.

“What is it?” Questions.

Well, it’s now or never.

“Why the fuck are you acting like I did something wrong?” You cross your arms under you chest. Trying to appear confidence. You may be feeling like you’re at wrong. But he doesn’t need to know that. You think his eyes instantly wander to your cleavage but he is looking away already.

“Like what?” Jimin regards you with curiosity. You gape at him.

“Like, why are you giving me a cold shoulder?”

“Why do you think I’m giving you cold shoulder?” He knits his eyebrows. You almost think you really might’ve read things wrong. Maybe, you’re expecting something you shouldn’t.

“I... I don’t know. You were like all over me when we came here and now you won’t even come near me.” Oh, fuck. You shouldn’t have said that. It sounds all wrong. There’s a silence fall down.

“ I thought you were uncomfortable when I did that. You were fidgeting around every time I’m around you.”

You take a minute to let that sink in. Well, you are uncomfortable when he is around. Just because he makes you tingle all over. Makes your sanity slip through your fingers. Makes your panties wet. It’s dangerous. Wait? Then why are you so worried when he doesn’t do that. Shouldn’t you be relieved?

“Huh?” Jimin pushes you. Takes a step forward. Suddenly, your mouth is dry.

“Well, that was because I thought uh... I thought─” You start but he interrupts you.

“You thought what Lil?” He asks.

“I...I thought that… uh...” You don’t know the answer yourself. Can’t say the real reason. Jimin shakes his head. Closes the gap between you entirely. The tip of his Chelsea boots touches your heels. Surprises you by placing a stray strand of your hair behind your ear. You shiver. Doesn’t take his hand away. Sighs. There’s a certain softness in his eyes. You can melt under that. You are melting.

“You know what Spring roll? I think I get it. You don’t want me to touch you because you don’t. And that’s okay. It’s okay if you aren’t comfortable. I won’t do that again. It’s not okay for me touch you without your consent.” Takes his hands away.

Oh, no. That’s not the case at all. You want to correct him, but words are tangled in your mouth. He takes your silence as agreement. Keeps his gaze on you for a moment.

You need to tell him that’s not it. Good communication, remember? Then what would you tell? The truth? You rake your brain for a good excuse. Believable one. Your brain is blank apparently. And before you could process something else you are robbed of that opportunity. By Jungkook’s voice booming across the kitchen.

“Noona... we are doing noraebang.”

You snap your head to him. Smile softly. Jimin chuckles and steps away.

…………………..

There’s no noraebang machine. The alternative is to connect someone’s phone to the speakers. Play some music and sing along. There’s a mic though. And because drunk Taehyung is very creative, he comes up with a game. There’s no lyrics displaying. It’s blind karaoke. You need to recognize the song and sing along. Anyone who’s failed to do so need to take a shot. Everybody, apparently, is on the board. The problem is, there is no way in hell you would recognize any of these songs. You are already accepting defeat even before the game properly starts.

The first contestant is Jungkook. You watch him clears his throat when Namjoon happily plays a music in his phone. The sound echoes around through the speakers. You don’t recognize it. But most people here do. Yoona even starts to jump up and down in her seat. Jungkook furrows his brows. It’s already thirty seconds into the song, but he is still at a lost.

“That’s it.” Jin states.

“Take a shot.” Taehyung pours a shot.

“Yah! That’s not fucking fair, let me think.” Jungkook, offended and confused, takes a look around the room. Poor boy has no one on his side.

“It’s very fair. You need to recognize it within two fucking seconds.” Hoseok shows two fingers up while Taehyung forces a shot through Jungkook’s throat. Jungkook whines about how the rules aren’t clear, but nobody gives a shit. He gives up. Comes to the seat next to you and plops down.

“It’s not fair….is it?” Looks at you with a pout. You shake your head. “If you want to feel better, I’m not going to win a single round kookie. You’re good.” You pat his arm. He is in black from head to toe. His tattoos are covered inside his black shirt sleeve. Normally wild hair pushed away from his forehead. He looks exceptionally good. You must be crazy to keep your gaze all the time on the man in the white shirt. Can’t take your eyes. Maybe, it’s because there’s an unresolved problem between you. You feel this unsettled urge to go and talk to him. Have no courage, however. What will you say?

Think it’s better when it’s his chance now. Something to distract you. Jimin takes the mic. Keeps a burning gaze on Namjoon when he plays a different music. It’s impossible to guess a song by its first two seconds. Jimin failing just like Jungkook is the proof of that.

“Yah!! This shit is not fair man. The music didn’t even start.” Jimin yells. Running away from Taehyung who’s after him with a shot in his hand.

“It did.” Namjoon defends.

“No, it didn’t.” Jungkook is on Jimin’s side. So are you. That’s why you nod furiously.

“It totally did. I heard it.” Yoongi lazily quips with a reddened face. There’s a possibility he was dreaming but then Hoseok and Yoona are also vowing for Namjoon. All it takes is a minute for these drunk people to start arguing over some silly matter. Jimin is still darting around that loveseat. Taehyung chasing him.

“Ah... just take the shot and sit your ass down Jimin-ah.” Jin bellows frustratingly. Is sitting again with J. You give them a sceptical look before J jumps onto her feet. Starts chasing your pretend boyfriend. How unfair? You twitch in your seat. Watching the run and chase happening in the room. Laughter and cheers following. You want to take Jimin’s side. Think he would not like that, however. So, you just watch it when Jungkook joins the game. Finally, they along with Jungkook catch Jimin. Forces that shot into him.

He’s not supposed to be drinking.

……………………………………….

The game continues afterward. It goes from wild to berserk quickly. Jin, Hoseok, Yoongi, Yoona, and very surprisingly Taehyung proves to you that two seconds is enough to recognize a song. The rest of you are just bad it appears. Still, no one is as bad as you. The only person who drowned five shots already. You’re wobbling on your feet. Now matching with Kim Taehyung’s level of drunkenness. You have no idea since when the game changed. But now you’re into singing. Like really singing with bad pitches and slurry words. Taehyung and Jimin end a song. Why would you be surprised to know Jimin can sing? Of course, he can. You clap as loudly as you can when J steals the show. Drags Jin with her. His ears are too red.

For the first time since Jimin’s aloofness, you’re drunk enough to enjoy your night for real. Worries washed away by the alcohol.

“Noona... you need to sing too. Don’t fucking chicken out.” Jungkook walks up to you with a water bottle in his hand. Well, only if you could do that. You shake your head drunkenly.

“I fucking don’t know any of these songs.” It’s the hundredth time you’re saying it. Are becoming annoyed now.

“How’s that even possible?” Taehyung interjects. Sitting on the floor. Jimin sits right in front of your legs. He is drunk. He wasn’t supposed to drink. But here he is. Eyes droopy. Well, plans change sometimes. That’s what he said. Is finally, acknowledging you. Not being back to being all touchy and possessive. Still, you’re happy that he is having fun at least. You pay your attention back to Jungkook and Taehyung.

“It is possible because I don’t. If you want me to sing….” You look around with your hazy vision to find your bag. Find it placed on the coffee table. Ask Jungkook to pass it to you. Fumble inside your bag and leave a noise in giddy. Pull your phone out. The one from your real world. It’s just you’re drunk. Too drunk that the things aren’t processing in your head. And it’s too bad that you’ve already handed the phone to Jungkook before Jimin’s drunken mind can figure what’s happening. He is too late when he suddenly jumps to his feet, trying to stop you. Jungkook is already inspecting your phone curiously.

“This is your phone?” He asks you.

“Uh huh, my other one actually. I have a second one. Jimin bought me that.” You go back to take that one out when your bag is snatched away from you.

“Yah!” You yell as you take Jimin furrowing at you. What’s his problem now? Have no time to know. Jungkook perks up again, curiously.

“Okay, so what’s you gonna play?” He gives you the phone back. Shrugs. You excitedly start to go through your playlists. This will not be karaoke since you’ll be singing along to an original song. But who cares? These drunk people here will be happy to listen to a vulture. You randomly pick a song up. Give the phone back.

“Got it. Haven’t heard this one.” Jungkook mutters under breath as he gets to his feet. Of course, he hasn’t heard that one.

“Oh yeah, that’s becua─” The rest of your words are muffled as a palm suddenly clasps over your mouth. You make some incoherent sounds.

“Nothing. That’s because there are so many songs Jungkook.” Jimin tells to Jungkook without looking at him. His eyes on you. Jungkook shrugs again and walks away.

………………………………

Jimin and you will have to find another alternative. He can’t drive to save his life. He has little demons as his friends. Maybe, he would ask you to sleep here and will find an excuse later. That seems to be the best idea as Jimin watches you start to sing. He’s surprised that your phone is compatible with the speakers. It is compatible. And you almost ruined everything. There’s still a risk. He wants you to get done with singing fast. Wants your phone back with you. Safe. Is feeling bad about it, when you’re giggling adorably.

He’s been frustrated for some time now. Even when he was laughing and talking with his friends. Somewhere between his relationship and business, Jimin has learned how to pull off a perfect poker face. A facade. No one can see through it. Everyone thinks he is okay. But then you don’t. Probably he is lowering his guard down around you. He doesn’t like the idea that you thought he was avoiding you. Because he wasn’t, right?

It’s just that you’ve benn on the edge all day. Trying to get away from him whenever he was close to you. It really hurt to see the look on your face earlier at the kitchen. You were really uncomfortable. That’s the only reason why he let you go. The reason why he gives you your space even though it stings. You don’t do that with Jungkook. Are so comfortable around him. That makes Jimin reel. Why do you do that only to Jimin?

All the while, now he is secretly a bit happy to know at least he is affecting you. His indifference worries you. Makes you want to reach him and question. That’s good. It would’ve been more hurtful if you didn’t care at all.

Jimin blows a breath out before grabbing another shot. He is already drunk anyway. Gulps it down as you start to sing.

“There you go girl.” Seoyeon joins you, swaying her hips. Both Taehyung and Jungkook are on the dance floor as well. Jimin doesn’t know what song you’re singing. Of course, he doesn't. Funny thing is, he knows Jungkook doesn't either. But the bugger is enjoying it to the fullest while you’re singing the lyrics to him. Your pitch is terrible. It’s a good thing that song is playing in the background. Jimin catches something about a ‘friendship’ and ‘ruining a friendship’.

Oh, here comes that unsettling feeling again. To see you so happy with Jungkook. Why is he being like this? Why does he feel like he shouldn’t have brought you here? Could’ve kept you to himself if he didn’t. But then you don’t want to be around him.

Maybe he should just go away, somewhere alone. He is just about to leave when you turn your head towards him. Catching him watching. A huge grin breaks on your face. Jimin’s heart swoons at that. You’re grinning because you noticed him. Jimin.

You are uncomfortable around him right?

Then why are you so happy to see him? Why did you feel the lack of his presence?

It’s the music now. You take that time to leave Jungkook. Your shoulders doing a little wiggle. Hips swaying and walking towards him. Fuck, you look goddamn gorgeous in that dress. He knew you would, even before you put it on. The skin visible through the slit of your dress is glows under the ambient light. Your cleavage makes his brain malfunction. Like always.

And then you’re in front of him. Singing the lyrics to him. He can hear them perfectly now.

“Jenny darling, you’re my best friend

I’ve been doing bad things that you don’t know about”

His heart is beating violently. Breathing is getting shallower. You come even closer to him. The smile never leaves your inviting plump lips. Maybe, just maybe Jimin read your uncomfortableness wrong.

“I wanna ruin our friendship

We should be lovers instead

I don’t know how to say this

Cause you’re really my dearest friend”

He can’t do this anymore. Jimin finds it impossible. Someone needs to praise him for holding back for such long. He wants to steal your breath. Wants to taste that alcohol on your lips. Maybe, just maybe you were trying to get away because he makes you feel the same way like you do for him.

“Jenny, take my hand

Cause we’re more than friends

I will follow you until the end”

Did you say Jimin or Jenny. Why does his brain play tricks with him. He can feel your breath. You’re just inches away from him. Why can’t he have you? Your eyes are like magic. Maybe, just maybe you won’t protest if he kiss you. You’ll give in to him like you did the last time.

“Oh, we should be lovers instead”

He is going to kiss you. He will. Cross the line? Well, fuck it. He almost touches your cheek and tilt your head when Hoseok suddenly bellows.

“Yah! Yah! It’s time. The fireworks.”

Fuck! He is so sure you were anticipating that kiss. He knows you wanted him to kiss you. He read your signs wrong.

………………………

You chant in unison with your friends. Counting down the time.

“10

9

8”

Jimin finally stands next to you. Providing you some relief against the cold. You all are in the backyard. Ready for the new year. Hoseok will be the one to set off the fireworks. You don’t trust them. People who were on charge with the fireworks. There’s a high possibility they’ll burn the cottage down. Kill all of you in the process. Yet, it’s still happening.

“7

6

5”

Just like you, Jimin is obviously drunk. You don’t know what he plans to do afterward. Guess he has a plan. He is slightly wavering on his feet. Chanting down the numbers. Finally, his mood seems to be lightened. Or is just drunk. Earlier, while you were singing, you almost believed he is going to kiss you. There was fire inside his eyes. Then he didn’t. You shouldn’t be disappointed.

“4

3

2”

But you’re disappointed..

“1....”

“Happy fucking new year you, shitholes.” Taehyung is the first who shouts.

“What a beautiful new year wish!” Jin glares at Teahyung. He just dismisses it. Just hugs Jungkook, who is closest to him. The rest join in with the wishes. It takes Hoseok a minute to launch the fireworks into the sky. But eventually he does. You’re glad that they actually go straight up. To the sky. Blast up. Lightening the world up. Creates magic. You take the sight in with awe. Head still slightly spinning. Then without even you knowing you’re watching Jimin instead of the sky. His face is softly bathed in a luminous, purplish light. Your chest is squeezing. Why?

You are transfixed. Unable to look away from his face. Couldn’t even turn away when he averts his gaze to you. Raises his brows slightly but you still don’t turn away. You simply can’t. Just keep staring into his face. He does the same. After earlier, now you find it not possible to keep your gaze respectful. Not letting it drop down to his lips. So, you do. His plump lips. He wets them. You watch as his tongue darts out and disappears. Leaves his lips glistening. Shining. In a shimmering blue.

“Yah! The taken people here... Share your damn new year kisses.” J’s voice startles you. You didn’t realise that the world has momentarily faded away. Fireworks are still going on. You feel fairly sober now. Maybe it’s the cold air. Your eyes land on J. She is clapping excitedly while Namjoon and Yoona share their kiss. Urges Taehyung and Seoyoen to do the same. Taehyung is obviously showing reluctance but soon is waiting with wide eyes when Seoyeon places her lips on his.

Just as J turns to you, you shift your gaze to Jimin. Panicking. They want you to kiss. KISS!

Sure, you would like that but Jimin wouldn’t. What should you do? You nervously peer between his eyes. Fuck! You can’t read him this time. He probably doesn’t want to. It’s too much. You hear J and someone else saying something. It’s all a white noise.

“Go on... C’mon... Fucking kiss.” You don’t know who says that. Should you fake a stomach ache? Or should you throw up? Faint..... Jimin takes a step forward. You suck in a breath. Hold it. Is he going to do it. Another step. Fuck he is going to do it. Jimin extends his arm. Curls it around your waist. Pulls you to his body. You’re going to die. Because your heart is going mad. Madly fast.

Jimin leans forward. You don’t dare to let that breath down. He comes closer. “It’s just a kiss—a peck? Will you be okay?” Whispers against your lips. Part of your excitement dies.

A peck?

See, he doesn’t want to. But he’s still the one asking. So, you nod. Hide that disappointment behind a soft smile. Are still buzzing however. Kiss or peck, your already are like butter. Jimin nods too. Takes his time. Feels like eons. Then finally closes the gap between your lips. You feel his breath first. Tingling your lips. Then his pillowy lips are on yours. Presses. A shock radiates from there. Travels down your body. Is just a peck but ignites a fire in your belly. Makes it do a strange flip. Makes your brain void of any thoughts. That’s why you stupidly press harder when he tries to back up.

You would be so embarrassed in another time. For now, you want more. There’s something inside you screams for more. So, you whimper. Even though he isn’t pulling away anymore. He doesn’t. You think there’s a split second of hesitation from his side. But then he is the one pressing harder. He is the one who suddenly parts his lips to catch yours in-between. He is the one cups your face and tilts your face to side. You just reciprocate by throwing your hands around his neck. And it’s him who starts dragging his tongue across your bottom lip. Requesting permission to enter. Who you are to deny?

The way his tongue instantly snakes inside your mouth steals your breath away. A shameless moan erupts from your mouth. You do your best to keep up with his pace. He is going feral. Is sucking hard on your lips. You do the same. Tongue is furiously lapping against yours. You do the same. Even bites down on your bottom lip. There’s a pool of desire creating inside your underwear. He is kissing you like his life depends on it. How good it feels. You can’t breath, but still don’t want to pull away. You’re on fire. You want more.

“We said a new year kiss.”

“Yah! Stop it you....”

“Holy fuck! Are they gonna fuck in front of us? I’m down.”

“Jimin-ah”

Someone practically screeches next to you. The world comes back into focus. This time however, you don’t part like you are electrocuted. Instead, Jimin lets you go slowly. His lips red and wet. Chest heaving for breath. There’s no any difference on your side. Both of you still stare at each other. Ignore the comments your friends are making.

You kissed!

.....................

You’re shivering; even after it’s been more than hours since you’ve kissed. Trembling. Restless. Feel frustrated even. You’re standing in the kitchen alone. All of your friends finally have retreated into their destined rooms. It’s 3 am. You and Jimin really didn’t get a chance to discuss your plans. All these time, amidst the hustle of your drunken friends, Jimin treated you normally. Nothing more nothing less. Was just there. And then practically dragged Taehyung into his room with Jungkook’s help.

That’s when you entered the kitchen. Been here since then. The entire cottage is drowning in silence now. Your mind isn’t. Still, after hours, you want more. God, you want Jimin. It’s a feral desire. The memory of his lips sucking on your tongue and lips fuel that. Maybe, you should use the bathroom now. Should take this frustration out of you. You rub your thighs together uncomfortably. It’s a miracle you’ve survived until now.

You nod. Finally in a decision. You’ll take care of yourself. Like you always do. Turn around to leave. Only to gasp loudly and lose your shit to find a shadowy figure in the door way.

“Holy fuck!!!” You clasp your chest immediately as your soul leaves your body.

“Sorry.” Jimin immediately strides forward. Letting you see it’s him. “What the fuck Jimin. I nearly fucking died.” You scowl. He chuckles lightly.

You didn’t really expect for him to join you. Or to look for you. Now when he does, you don’t know what to do next. Your plans are ruined. This is torture. You’re horny because of this man. You wanted to do something about it by yourself. And then he interrupts it. You’re stuck with him again. Which means you’ll be constantly horny.

The air is filled with dead silence. He isn’t saying anything. For a moment. Then he breaks the silence.

“Lil... Uh about ear—”

“Don’t” You don’t mean to snap but you do. Causing Jimin to abruptly stops and gape at you. Silence again.

“Don’t what?” He mumbles. You don’t want him to apologise again. For anything. Don’t want to hear him say he was drunk. Say he crossed a line again. You want to bask in your bubble. You always found this fascination. There’s a reason why you were always so affected. Despite everything, you know you like being around him. He makes your heart beat fast. Makes you so nervous you can’t look him in the eye. Makes you feel all sorts of fucked up. But you like it. Then he doesn’t. You don’t want him to say it aloud. Just want to hide behind a bathroom door and get yourself off to his memories. You’ll be guilty when you’re less horny. In the morning.

“Don’t what Lil?” Then he is pushing you again. Strides closer to you. You sigh. Hard. Lean your ass against the kitchen island. “Don’t apologise Jimin. I don’t want to hear it.” Finally get your words out. Know he is about to reply but this is your chance to clear the misunderstandings. “And I wasn’t uncomfortable around you because I didn’t like it. I thought it was too much you know?” You turn your head to look at him. Relieved you finally got an acceptable answer.

He doesn’t answer. Instead, mirrors your earlier actions. Leans against the kitchen island next to you. So close that your arms are pressed together. It’s sending bolts down your body.

“What’s too much?” He asks again. You don’t like it when he does that. And you hate it how his breath is hitting your ear. God, you can’t. Another rub in your thighs. Very subtle. Praying he doesn’t notice.

Calm down! Get a fucking grip.

“Being that clo—”

“Why are you so comfortable around Jungkook then?”

Oh!

Are you? Well, he doesn’t make you want to jump his bones all the time. You can’t say that aloud. So, you decide you should point out him not having a girlfriend. But he doesn’t let you when he suddenly straightens up. Turns around. Crowds your space, trapping you between the island and his warm body.

“Because he isn’t too much?” Questions. This time against your mouth. You need to go. You’re loosing it.

“I didn’t say you’re too much.”

“Then what’s too much?” He leans even more forward. His breath tingles your lips when he talks. Eyes drops down to your lips. Your breath hitch. And so you are becoming annoyed. He is making you suffer on purpose isn’t he? Well, fuck it.

“This.” You lower your voice. “This is Jimin. You being this clo—”

“Fuck, I want to kiss you. Want to kiss you again so fucking badly. You taste good you know? Lil... You taste so fucking good.” Jimin grips the counter by either side of you. As if to ground himself. Eyes still not leaving your lips. A surprised whimper leaves your mouth. His nose presses against yours. That is so sudden that you’re so dumbfounded. Eyes wide. Breath mingles with his.

“W.....what?” You ask stupidly.

He wants to kiss you?

“Can we be too much? One more time?” Jimin slowly and gently presses his body against yours. His voice is shaky.

He wants to.

“Jimin.... I’m going insane I think.” Both of you would’ve laughed hard at that in a different time. Neither do so at this moment, however. You genuinely think you’re going insane.

“Good. Go insane. Go fucking insane. Don’t become sane, just let me take care of you hm. Can I kiss you?” Jimin slightly presses his lips onto you. You’re insane. He asks you stay that way. So, what’s stopping you? The feral need you’ve been trying to contain inside explodes.

You nod furiously before taking his bottom lip between yours. Instantly starting to move. He lets out a groan. Hands immediately gripping your hips. Pulls you flush against his body. He deepens the kiss by plunging his tongue inside. You moan. Shameless. Go insane he said. You’re loosing your breath again. Lungs screaming but you won’t pull away. You suck on his tongue. He sucks on your bottom lip. Flights for dominance with your tongue.

It’s a messy tangle of a spit and teeth now. Your teeth clanking together. Sounds of your groans and moans mixing with the wet sounds your lips make. You place your hands behind his neck. Then on his back. Touching wherever you can. Pressing your body into his desperately. He does the same. Hands exploring your curves harshly. You accept the defeat first. Pull away heaving for much needed oxygen. He doesn’t let you. Is back again numbing your lips. But you want more. You push him away weakly, confusing him.

“Please no. Not yet. Don’t become sane now, baby. No.” Jimin whines, chasing your mouth back. If it isn’t the sweetest sound. And he calls you baby? Fireworks are exploding inside your stomach now. He bites your bottom lip. Bit harshly that you whimper.

“No... No Jimin.. it’s not it. I want more...” You manage to find your voice. At that he pulls away. Peers into your eyes.

“More?”

“Yes. More please.”

Jimin moans. A sweet one. You don’t get to think what’s happening when his hands grabs you by your thighs. Hoists you up to the kitchen island. Nudges your thighs from his knee. Urges your legs apart. Slots himself between your parted legs. Is back kissing you, pink muscle exploring every nook and corner inside your mouth. Pulls away. “Tell” Gives a peck. “me” peck. “what” peck “you want?” A harsh kiss. You’re breathless.

“S...something.... A...anything please..... Jimin. Please give me something.”

“Something?”

“Yes I need something. Anything you give.” Your voice is shaky. Can’t be embarrassed now. Not when you’re burning. “Want you Jimin.” You further clarify what you want. He groans again. Kisses you again. Makes you say the same thing again and again.

“One more time baby. Say you want me.”

“I... wa...want y... you Jimin. Please something. Anything.”

You love the way Jimin slightly trembles at your words.

“God, fuck yes. Lil you’re fucking hot.” He whispers. Hands travel from your hips to your ass. Squeezes. Lips back on assaulting yours.

“Please..” You plead one more time.

Just like that he is bunching your dress up to your waist. Attacks your neck. Sucking and licking. Presses his lips and tongue on that sweet spot. All the while his hands harshly exploring the skin of your thighs. He touches. Rubs. Squeezes. Grabs. Yanks you to the edge of the counter top. Making your panty clad core slots against his. Ruts his hips. The friction that makes is blissful. So, you do the same. Give some attention to your needy cunt. Moan his name. Whine pathetically when he stops.

“No Jimin please...”

He silences you by attacking your lips again. By sneaking his hands between your pressed up bodies. His fingers finally touching where you need him the most. Dear God, how good that little touch feels. Your ass nearly leaves the countertop. Searching for more. He chuckles into your mouth.

“Fucking needy..” Mumbles. He presses his middle and forefinger on your throbbing clit. Over your lacy panties. Adds more pressure and circle it. Drags his fingers down your slit, pressing down at your needy hole. Hums in approval when he finds you soaked.

“How long have you been wet? Hm Lil? How long did you wear this soaked panties? Sticking into your pretty pussy?” His husky voice is like liquid fire. Burning through you. You shiver at his words. Mouth so dry even after he wets your lips so good.

“I... I. Don’t know..” You try to answer anyway. Jimin doesn’t think it’s an answer. He roughly pushes your panty to the side. You gasp. Touches your slicked cunt bare for the first time. You moan. He rubs your slit before pushing his two fingers at your entrance. Pushes past until the pads of his fingers are inside you. Just teasing your entrance. Thumb find your clit again. Rubs it very painfully slow.

“How long Lil? Answer me. How long have you been dripping for me?” He is toying with you. That’s what he is doing. Will not do anything until you answer. Will tease you till you die from the neediness.

“S....since.. since you kissed me.” You force yourself to answer. He laughs this time. Mocking almost.

“All these because of a kiss?”

Oh, you love this. Love the aura he is emanating. Love the authority. Absolutely love to be in his mercy. New waves of arousals crash over you.

“Yes.” You answer. He rewards you with another messy kiss. Hand never stopping teasing your entrance and rubbing your clit. “What a good slut you are baby? Just so ready and wet. All for me?” He just knows you love this. Isn’t he? Probably feels how you’re dripping more. Another week yes escapes your lips.

“Good.” His fingers disappears form your cunt. Before you could complain, however, he is rubbing that slicked covered pads on your lips. Watches you expectantly. So, you become a good girl. Dart your tongue out to lick it away. Makes him moan. He pulls away from your body. Cold air engulfs your body in the lack of his warmth. He grabs a stool. Drags it to where you are seated and sits. His face nicely levelling with your waist. He makes it better by slightly bending down. Now levelling with your sopping cunt. Places his palms on your inner thighs to spread your legs even more.

Revealing your soppy cunt to his burning gaze. The way your flimsy panty is soaked.

“Did I mention you’re hot?” Asks but you are no longer able to answer anything. Anticipation eating you up. Just knowing what he is about to do. Fuck those thick lips are going to be on your cunt. Even the thought is enough to make you cum. You whimper and wiggle your ass needy. Earn yourself a slap on your inner thigh. And a soothing kiss after. Jimin looks at you through his lashes. Keeps kissing your thighs. Open mouth and sucking, leaving his imprints on them. Each kiss is leaving higher than the previous one. Up, up and up. Until finally, fucking finally his lips are on your cunt. Lips pressing over your already swollen clit.

Your hands fly to grab from his hair. Firmly pressing his face deeper into your pussy. Can feel his smirk. The smirk before he willingly bury his face between your thighs. And then inhales. Deeply. Moans so loud. Louder than you and probably enough for whole cottage to hear.

“Ji...mm...in..”

He inhales again. Groans. Pulls away to look at you like he is drunk again.

“You smell so good baby. Fuck.” Wets his lip. Looks at you like you’re a full course meal. Just for him to savour and devour.

Gives you an admiring look before his thick lips are latching on your clit. With the lacy material. Sucks on it. Bites lightly. You spread your legs the furthest you can. Giving him everything. Buck your hips onto his face when he shifts to lick long drags across your slit. Up and down. Your panty is just an useless wet item with his saliva and your arousal. He pulls the material between his teeth and lets go again. Making it hit you cunt. You gasp in pleasurable slight sting causes. He keeps his ministrations for couple minutes. Alternating between licks, sucks, kisses and bites.

The next time he pulls away, he is the one who is breathless. “Shit! You taste so good. Just like I imagined... Let’s cum on my tongue baby huh?” He asks as he hooks his fingers under the waistband of your underwear. You nod violently in assent when he discards the useless material from your body. Pushes it inside his pocket and you think you’ll not last another second. He is the epitome of pure sin. So hot you want to cry. Especially, when his nose, lips, and chin ins glistening with your arousal.

Jimin admires your bare cunt which is practically on his face for second. Mutters something about it being the prettiest cunt he has ever seen. You clench around nothing. Then he is on it back. Keeping your legs apart by pulling them over his shoulders. Hand keeping you pin down onto the table. Face hiding in your pussy. Lips and tongue working magic with the occasional help of teeth. Licks and sucks. Slurping. Practically making our with your cunt. As if he is mad. Going feral and intense with every passing second. Shakes his head. Drinking on your dripping arousals. The entire space is filled with the shameful sound of your cunt making against his mouth. Paired with your moans and his groans.

Your head is spinning. It’s all one mess of pleasure. Immense pleasure. It’s completely unintentional how you keep rutting your hips. Using his perfect face to chase your high. He is relentless. A man on a mission and is succeeding very fast. You’re so close. So close to fall over the edge and need just a little more.

“Ji...min. Ugh it’s so good.... Jimin fingers.. I need your fingers.. please.” You plead. Hands nearly ripping his hair away. He nods without pulling away even for a minute. Gets you bit worried about his breathing. He doesn’t mind apparently. Just gives you what you asked for. Two fingers simply prod against your hole. Rubs circles first and then are pushing past your tight entrance. Your falls flutter at the intrusion. He keeps pushing inside slowly till he is knuckles deep inside you.

Takes a moment. Lips wrapping around your clit. Sucks while eyes fixing on your face. Then starts pumping the fingers in and out of you. Hard and fast. Scissors them. Stretches you wide. Curls his fingers in search for that one spot. Strokes your walls. And at the moment he finds that spot, you almost jump away from the counter.

He presses you down again with his free hand. Violently pump his fingers, assaulting that sweet spot. Assaulting your clit with his teeth and tongue. Over and over again. Until all your senses vanish. Until that tight coil in your lower tummy which has been tightening all these time snaps. Until white spots appear behind your closed eyelids. Jimin keeps his lips tightly sucking on your clit and fingers working when you moan his name breathlessly. Only pulls away when you start to whimper from the oversensitivity.

“Jimin.. hurts...”

He lets you clit go. Retrieves his fingers slowly. Looks you dead in the eye when he sucks those fingers clean. And then your sensitive cunt despite your little cries. Places one last kiss before he is getting into his feet.

You gape at him with a still heaving chest. Placing your weight on your arms. Close your legs. Sit properly. Jimin bends down to wipe his face off with the edge of his shirt.

That was the best fucking orgasm of your life. Only beats the time he made you cum by sucking on your tits. Yes, you won’t lie. Because it is. That, however, doesn’t stop from you coming back to senses. Like always. Doesn’t stop the familiar weight drops on your shoulder. You and he swore you were friends, didn’t you? That you won’t cross the line.

Now what? Oh you’re becoming scared again. Scared since you know what’ll probably happen next. Jimin is starting back at you. Expression unreadable. He’ll say sorry now. You’ll accept that. Or he’ll continue. If he wants that, god yes, you’ll listen. There will be nothing make you happier to return the favour. These unclouded thoughts which are emerging will vanish at a finger snap if he asks to fuck you. To blow him off. But you’re afraid he won’t. He’ll do the right thing now.

So, you hold your breath, bracing for the apology that will shatter this beautiful moment. He doesn’t. Instead, he simply just cups your cheeks. Surprises you by pecking your lips. Bores into your eyes.

“Are you sane now?”

Oh that’s quite unexpected.

You don’t know what he is doing. But if he genuinely wants to know the answer. Then you’ll give him that. Hence, the shake of your head. Your words follow that. “No.” Jimin smiles. Nods. Peck your lips again.

“Can we stay insane then, just for a day? Do you think you’ll be able to stay awake? Just a day Lil?” There’s a desperation in his voice. A kind of one that steals your breath. This is so wrong.

Say no.

You’ll never say no. You’ll willingly chose death if Jimin asks you to. How fucking scary. But you think you’re already deep in this mess.

Cross the line? You just did that.

What’s there to go wrong anymore? A lot.

Still, just for a day. Maybe after that day you two will be satiated. Until that you’ll keep the morality hidden safely behind a closet. To take back later. Just a day.

“Yes. I can. Yes for everything you asked.” You giggle. He follows.

“Let’s pretend this is normal?” He asks again. You nod again. Pretend. Just for a day.

“Uh huh... It’s just a day in paradise?” You peck his lips this time. Heart swooning when he smiles into that. Chuckles. Says that it’s silly but agrees anyway. Confirms for you.

“A day in paradise.”

Chapter Index

...................................................................................................

Taglist - @chimmy-licious @graydolan12 @smoljimjim @likemeforme @sugas-baby-girl @canarystwin @jkayy

[infini-tree]

walks in. ponifies the characters. walks out

(+ some notes)

the kids' ponified names are just based on Vibes/keeping the same first letters as the original. i kept playing with the idea that the "Heart" part of pony!harold's name should be a compound word, to keep the same number of syllables as Hutchins, but i already broke the "same syllable count" rule with george, so Heart it will stay

the kids' cutie mark is just as straightforward. melvin's is science-y, while george and harold are meant to parallel each other-- at least with the 'pencil drawing part of the cutie mark' motif. the spiral in george's is me being a bit cheeky.

why is it every time i do an au that's more of a design challenge than anything with a concrete plot, george just is the hypno-ring that made krupp cu /j

krupp and captain was the most difficult out of all of them to design since if i had to design one of them, it had to be fitting for the other too. the more natural colors (in comparison to the others) was meant to be more of a reflection of krupp's character, but the neutral color palette also worked for captain too so his accessories popped.

the coat pattern was also there to make sure he doesn't seem too monotonous, but then i learned about horse coat patterns-- specifically blanket patterns... that basically meant captain's underpants is just built into both their coats. its less obvious on krupp since he has a shirt (blue now, since white on white wouldn't look good).

as for krupp's ponified name, it was also a similar struggle since there were no K words that fit his vibe. it was initially "Key" for the longest time (read as: i had to sleep on it), but i decided on "Keeper" since it still evoked that trapping feeling, but it could have more positive connotations in a... protector/caretaker/teacher sort of way.

as for the "Bantam" part, i had wanted to keep a similar enough word to "ben". and having it be shortened to "Ban Keeper" was too good to pass up. bantam is a kind of chicken (which fits krupp's farm past as established in tetocu), but bantam also meant "small and feisty person", which krupp is. but is also what the children he's "keeping" are.

so basically you can read krupp's name as "keeper/caretaker of unruly kids [in detention]", "controlling one's unruly nature", or "farmer keeper", which i personally think is fun

don't worry about krupp hiding his cutie mark! its fine. he's fine.

captain is captain! you know him. you love him. he has changeling motifs due to the nature of the "radiation". apparently, characters gaining radiation/magic based wings and horns are a thing that happened in G5, which i didn't know until recently, so funny coincidences.

captain's cutie mark is underpantyworld. his cutie mark is different from krupp (stares at the changeling motifs)

edith, thankfully was straightforward. her ponified name is just a food name, specifically a type of cheese. her cutie mark is a ladle with some sparkles around it. i changed her dress to just a shirt, and her gloves to be some galosh sort of deal.

and as a bonus since you can pry alien!edith from my cold dead hands, there's a bonus reformed changeling form since that's the closest thing to aliens in this world! "Stemmata" is a type of insect eye, to fit in with the changeling naming convention of naming them after bug body parts, but also eyes because of the whole Two Blue Eyes thing. she was originally supposed to be called "Ocellus", but there's already a character that exists with that name...

i imagine edith defecting from a small hive and accidentally unlocking her reformed form, and she thinks she can't go back even if she wanted to so she just kinda... stays,

[defender-of-jouvente]

HEY!!!!

Apparently this is what we're doing now? Making blogs? Or something. And I don't wanna be left out! So here I am!!!

I'm Isabeau (he/him), ex-defender from Jouvente, currently traveling with the Saviors of Vaugarde. Nice to meet you!

(Could you call this an Isablog....? Hehehe.)

Act Directory

Profile

{Rules/Info Below Cut}

hey! this blog is run by an anonymous user who shall, from here on out, be dubbed "mundie". it uses ze/they/he pronouns, and will occasionally use it/its pronouns for itself. it is a hobbyist roleplayer who tends to go overboard with things, and also has a degree in the arts i guess.

mun is an adult- indeterminate amount of years rp experience yadda yadda yadda. lets get to the meat of things.

this is an isabeau rp blog! while it's still in the early stages, it will have full game spoilers- not to mention the mun will talk ooc with the general regard that it's followers have, in fact, completed the game. please tread with caution if you haven't finished it yet!

(also technically an au)

majority of assets (as well as the game itself) used on this blog are directly from isat and thus made by insertdisc5 unless otherwise stated. things like sprites and portraits may be edited as i see fit.

instances of textboxes are put together in the ISAT Dialogue Maker.

blog tries to remain as accessible as possible, and all images will include ids in alt text (unless I forget). distorted and colored text will have a translation located in the tags. let me know what i can do to make this blog more accessible for you!

Anon: Off. Learn to respect my friends’ time and energy or die by my sword.

Magic!Anon: Currently not allowed, several stashed in inbox.

Interactions: Allowed and welcome! I may not get to every one, for a rainbow variety of reasons I won't get into. I will simply do my best! (Note: You don't have to be in the "group" listed below to interact! Come n hang!)

Plot: Currently in Act 1

Main Group: @a-traveling-star (King), @housemaiden-of-change (Noah), @studies-of-nothing (Nin), @snacksleader (Bonnie), and @loopadoop - check them out to get more context on the main story!

Rules:

No sexual content. Try to keep it PG-13 in that regard. Everything else follows the general standards of the actual game-- things may get heavy, so please take care!

No harassment. I feel like this won't exactly discourage any potential attempts, but its good to set boundaries. If I deem your ask legitimately hurtful I'm just gonna delete/ignore it. This includes transphobia, racism, xenophobia, etc etc.

This blog, as well as it's companion blogs, moves at its own pace. This is largely improv with some minimal planning for structure- we don't have every little thing planned, and we are pretty unfamiliar with each other and still adjusting, so scheduling may be messy. Please don't rush us! This performance is just as much for us as it is for you.

Try to stay on topic! Goofs are welcome, but try not to derail during plot/story heavy moments. Asks may be held in "stasis" until they are relevant if they don't match up with the current goings on.

Spoilers and potentially triggering content will be tagged as such. If you have something you need tagged, shoot me an ask and I'll do my best to cover it.

Joke asks are fine as long as you behave. Me n Isabeau both have thick skin, but try not to push it. I'm not afraid to put my foot down if you make me uncomfortable.

You can talk to the mod/mun, but I may not always respond. If something is surrounded by {} <- these brackets, that's probably me speaking. Remember to address me if you want to actually, like, talk to me. (I often reserve ooc asks for mundays unless its pertinent, so keep this in mind!)

i see you there motherfucker. yeah you. i see you. what are you doing here. i TOLD you there are spoilers dude. hitting you with my broom hitting you with my broom hitting you with my broom h

[kasdan]

𝐸𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟'𝑠 𝐹𝑢𝑟𝑦 {𝐶ℎ𝑎𝑝𝑡𝑒𝑟 14}

join the taglist | series masterlist | marvel masterlist | ko-fi

a/n: i would like to apologize that this chapter has taken so long i have been working mainly on fics on my side blog atm and am trying to juggle this story and the other fics i'm writing so please bear with me 🙏🏼 i hope people still enjoy reading the story and that you enjoy the chapter<3

summary: you have to cut off your power usage and a visitor shows up on the bunker's doorstep

pairing: frank castle x reader

warnings: frank is upsetti spaghetti, mention of blood and dead bodies, reader and frank have another moment ‼️(they were cock blocked again smh), mild language, smidge cliffhanger ending (sorry)

word count: 1.2k

“How the hell did they know where we were?” I hear Frank’s booming voice from the bathroom where I’m washing off all the blood. He doesn’t give me much of a choice when we get back to the bunker, immediately ushering me into the bathroom to get cleaned up, even though he looks to be in worse condition than I am.

He tries to inspect my injuries, but I push the first aid kit into his arms so he can tend to his own wounds and not worry about mine. I’ve been washing off in the sink, watching the red-colored water swirl down the drain. Most of the blood on me isn’t mine; it’s from others that I need to scrub off.

I quickly rinse off the blood and change into the clothes Frank left outside the door before leaving the bathroom. It’s easy to find where the two men are in the bunker, given its size, and also where the loud talking continues.

As soon as Frank sees me walk into the room, he’s in front of me, tilting my chin up to inspect the cut. “Frank, I’m fine.” I try to tilt my head away, but his grip is firm, not letting me move as he examines my chin.

He doesn’t let go until he’s sure I’m not badly hurt, then walks back to where David is sitting at his desk. Wrappers and bandages from the first aid kit are scattered over the desk where Frank hastily patched up his injuries.

“The bracelet she has only prevents large amounts of waves from being sent into the air at one time, making it almost impossible to track—emphasis on almost. They’re apparently very persistent,” David explains, sighing.

“So my best chance is to just not use them?” I ask, uncertain about the situation since many of the men who came are either still bleeding out at the house or dead.

“Right now, I think it’s best if they’re only used when absolutely necessary.” I understand his point, but it makes me uneasy not being able to fully control them or work on them. How can I ensure they’ll work when I really need them?

“You can still practice with them, just not so much at one time,” David says, as if reading my thoughts. I nod slowly, slightly disappointed that I won’t have any more full-on training sessions with Frank anytime soon.

“C’mere,” Frank says, grabbing a couple of papers from the desk and motioning for me to follow him to the back of the bunker.

“Yeah, just leave me with the mess,” David calls out as Frank walks away, not receiving a response.

Frank sits down on the ground, knowing I’m more comfortable there than on the benches or chairs. I’ve told him many times that he doesn’t have to sit on the ground with me if he’d prefer the chairs, but he brushes me off every time.

He places the papers in front of him as I sit down next to him, wondering what this is about. He gives me a reassuring smile and slides the paper closer so I can see it.

There’s a list of words on it, each color-coded. “This is the list of the powers that were put into the system. They were all a different color for some reason, so we wrote them down as listed,” Frank explains. I reach out to pick up the sheet and survey it.

I skim over the list, focusing more on the colors than trying to make sense of it. However, I can't help but notice the word “time” a couple of times. My eyebrows crease as I attempt to figure out what it means. “What is it?” Frank gently asks from next to me.

I show him the two items I’m looking at. “What do these mean?” He leans in to see where I’m pointing.

“Freeze time and reverse time,” he reads from the paper. “Freezin' time is makin' everythin' around you stop and freeze in place. Reversin' it is going back a few seconds or minutes to an earlier event.” I recall the time in the house when Frank repeated the same thing but didn’t seem to realize it. Was I the reason for that? I glance back at the paper. ‘Freeze time’ has an icy blue color next to it, while ‘reverse time’ has a lighter green color.

“You don’t know what the colors mean?” I look up from the paper, surprised to find that we’ve grown closer, our knees touching as I look at him. He meets my gaze and visibly swallows before clearing his throat.

“Uh, no. They were never really explained in the files…” His voice trails off, and I look at him in confusion.

“Are you okay?” I ask, noticing his distraction.“Frank?” I say again when he doesn't say anything, and he lifts his head to look at me.

“I shouldn’t…” he mutters, sounding conflicted.

“Shouldn’t what?” I respond, but there’s no time to think before he tilts my chin up and presses his lips to mine.

It catches me off guard, and a small gasp escapes me as he moves his lips gently against mine. I feel sparks ignite within me once again, and I slowly start to move my mouth along with his.

A groan escapes his lips when he feels me respond, and he grips my hips, pulling me closer. I find myself resting my hands on his shoulders to steady myself as our mouths continue to move together.

My body tingles as sparks shoot through my arms and into my hands, causing Frank to pull back and look at me. I’m breathing heavily and notice my hands glowing dark red again, and I don’t understand what triggered it.

Instead of pulling fully away, Frank ignores the shocks and leans in to press his lips back against mine. I try to pull my hands away to stop hurting him, but his strong hold keeps me in place.

A noise escapes me as he presses his mouth more firmly against mine, forcing me to push back with equal force. He pulls me into his lap, our bodies pressed close, and I can’t help but wrap my arms around his neck and melt into him.

My body feels like it’s in overdrive, new emotions swirling inside me, making me want to stay close forever. However, the universe has other plans when a knock is heard from the front bunker door.

We break apart, panting for air. I stare at him, confused about what’s happening. His grip loosens, allowing me to slide off his lap.

David’s urgent voice comes from the other side of the bunker, calling us over. I glance at Frank one last time before picking myself up and slowly making my way to David. Frank follows, but I catch him glancing down at the paper left on the ground before he does.

“Do either of you know who this is?” David points to the screen of the camera outside the door. A woman stands there in a long dark coat. There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t quite place it.

buy me a coffee ♡

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taglist:

@sleeperthelazy @lunaticgurly @casa-boiardi @mattmurdocksstarlight @cherry-berry-ollie @givemylovetoall @maddiewinchester

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[fanvoidkeith]

Veridian (Re)Beginnings

(a backstory for my newest D&D OC- Moss, a Warforged Ranger with a Sage background. this will probably make more sense to my DND group, but you're free to read it if you'd like!)

Moss was very good at following orders. Moss had- apparently- stood here in this forest for quite some time now, acquiring… well, moss. And mud, and bird's nests, and dirt. Leaves, too, though those never seemed to stay through the seasons changing. 

Though at some point, Moss had seemingly become… inactive, in terms of thought. Their eye crystals no longer glowed, allowing creatures to touch and hover near their motionless form. It was their nature, as animals, to find a home. 

Moss… wasn't sure if he had a home. Moss had stood in the forest long enough to be familiar with all of the sounds of the animals, and most of the weather conditions. The occasional traveler would marvel at the seemingly still statue before moving on, remarking on its slightly rusty appearance. Gold turning green, they would say. 

If Moss remembered how to speak, they would say, "Obviously. It's because of the moss. I'm Moss, and I am covered in green moss." But their mechanical tongue had stilled for so long that no one heard a peep, besides animals who startled and skittered at an occasional mechanical whir. Moss was alive, still, but no one could tell them anything about who he was. 

So Moss took a step forward, for the first time in a while. Crystalline lights crackled on, shining yellow beams into the dark night of the forest. Whirs and whines stuttered from their gears, a reluctant reminder of life within something that shouldn't have been conscious in the first place. It would go away soon, after Moss figured out where he was going. And probably took a few steps. 

So they moved forward. 

And forward. 

And forward, and onward, on until they reached a place to sit. Several of the trees had been cut down, and it was pouring rain. 

Moss didn't mind the rain. They never bothered with fine clothing or armor, due their integrated protection. A warforged had no particularly special bond with their clothes, but Moss liked their ranger's clothing. It was… comfortable. It withstood this long, and so it might even outlast Moss. An unlikely scenario, but an interesting one to opine. 

Moss wasn't sure people would enjoy the look of some random, soaking wet Warforged coming into town and asking about anything, so they gently removed what they could of animals and debris that hadn't already been shaken off or ran away. Moss picked off some of the moss on their body, feeling a small sense of… almost loss?... when it fell onto the ground. 

Maybe they could keep some of the green moss. It did look nice with their faded golden body, though most people probably wouldn't agree. 

Moss left some of the moss on their head, plucking it from where it would interfere with moving. Elsewise, it was fine where it was. As long as it didn't crawl inside their circuitry and magic- which was incredibly unlikely- Moss would be okay. 

Moss… felt fine. Though there was no people here, and people were probably resting. Moss had been resting for… They didn't know how long, so they started practicing using their voice again, frightening off the local creatures. They mentally apologized to the animals, then physically apologized, the words coming out as a garbled mess of static syllables. 

Moss practiced talking until the sun came up, where he just… watched the colors creep back into the sky. Dark blue was nice, and regular blue was nice too, but seeing the other colors of the sky fascinated Moss in a way that they couldn't compare to anything he remembered. 

Moss didn't remember much. There was a fight, something they were supposed to win for their fellow people… That, and researching… the forest. But that was it. Who won? Who was Moss fighting for? What was the research even about? And why did the moss-covered bow on Moss' back feel so familiar? 

None of those questions had an answer. Not that it mattered much to Moss, but he did wonder about it in the back of his thoughts. He pondered out loud, the words slowly becoming more recognizable the more they talked. Time passed, and the sun rose. Moss heard noise coming from the usual path that travelers used to pass by. It was sound of wheels, and trinkets, and that usually meant… Merchants attempting to sell their wares. 

Merchants knew plenty of things from their travels! Perfect! Maybe they could tell Moss about the nearest city. 

"Excuse me, I'm looking for-" Moss started to say, but was interrupted by a sudden shriek. It was indeed a merchant, startled by Moss' movements. 

"What in the nine hells-?!" 

"My apologies. I was just wondering where… The city is." 

"Well, pardon me, aren't you polite. The city I came from, or…?" 

Moss pointed in the direction of the way they wanted to go, opposite of where the merchant and their wares had come from. 

"Oh." The merchant told Moss about the city. They didn't understand a lot of the phrases that the merchant used to vaguely describe the place, but the merchant said it was good enough to stay in for a while. 

The merchant awkwardly inched away from Moss, obviously wanting to leave. So Moss left for the city without another word, their steps unintentionally heavy on the now dry dirt. 

It was time for Moss to see how the world had turned without them in it. 

[do-androids-dream-ao3acc]

Yeah, I did another Buck/Tommy-Tevan-whatever ship name-fic!

Buck is finally taking his flight lessons, and of course they go wrong.

Tags: Character Study, Fluff, Whump, Hurt Tommy Kinard, Hurt/Comfort, Angst.

Read below the cut (4,691 words) or on AO3! And this is the song which gave this fic its name.

- Face the fear, grow stronger by the scars -

"Are you sure that's all right?"

Did he sound nervous? Buck let a broad grin appear on his face, if only to prevent this potential impression – he could certainly feel his stomach prickle, and it wasn’t because of Tommy. Tommy, who was sitting next to him looking very relaxed (and handsome), hands in his lap instead on the cyclic.

"Relax, Evan, and focus on what I've explained to you," the pilot returned.

Buck clung to the controls, almost squinting to watch the sky and the lights in the helicopter at the same time, pondering, geez, what was I thinking? He couldn't admit to Tommy that he was scared shitless, nor that he had never actually wanted to take flying lessons. He’d always thought it was a clever and somewhat frivolous metaphor because Tommy had more experience with men. Buck had thought that was some kind of gay code for yes, I want to try that.

Apparently not. Maybe Tommy was playing a prank on him, but even if the guy had a wry sense of humor, Buck didn’t believe he would do something like that. Tommy… he had changed. Or maybe he’d just evolved, had peeled out of his shell to finally show what was underneath. And Buck quite liked that.

That's why he didn't think he needed to pull this off to please Tommy (although he very much wanted to), but to be honest. He'd asked for flying lessons and got them, and it wasn't like him to look for excuses now – even if this was way more literal than he'd thought.

"Pulling up the collective increases the pitch angle of all rotor blades by the same amount," Buck repeated Tommy’s lesson.

"The pitch angle and…?"

"Uh… the… the angle of attack!"

Tommy's satisfied smile made fine lines appear next to his eyes, which caused Buck's stomach to tingle even more – only this time he knew the reason.

"You were paying attention after all, Evan," Tommy said, chuckling. "All right, well done. That's enough for the first time, I think. Watch out, I'll take over."

Tommy had used his connections and actually managed to get one of the training helicopters; these had dual controls allowing the flight instructor to intervene if need be. However, in less than an hour, real student pilots were waiting for the machine, and Buck was already looking forward to feeling solid ground under his feet again.

"All right."

Buck kept his hands on his cyclic, watched the altitude display and waited for Tommy to take over. The pilot’s hands were already on his own controls, and it was only when he nodded to Buck that the latter dared to let go of his. If he had his way, he would never get behind the controls of a helicopter again. That meant he would have to tell Tommy the truth at some point and that he would lose a little bit of coolness in Christopher's eyes, but the thrill just wasn’t worth it. Maybe Buck had also changed – or evolved –a bit. He cared for his life, and Tommy was one of the reasons.

"Fine day for a flight," said Tommy, casting a glance out of the canopy as he flew an extremely elegant loop. 

And Buck had to admit that the view was fantastic. They had left the city’s concrete jungle behind, headed east, gliding across the Californian desert. The sparse vegetation beneath the helicopter was a patchwork of green, yellow and brown spots, occasionally adorned by incredibly colorful flowers, and it all looked much more exciting from up here. The same was true for Tommy, though... the telltale extra heartbeat that consistently filled Buck's chest when he looked at the man told him he didn't care where Tommy was. Just as long as he could be next to him. It sure was exciting, dating a pilot, but it didn’t quite explain Tommy’s overwhelming, mesmerizing charisma. There was way more to him than being a great guy with a fascinating job, much underneath, and Buck wanted to get to know these parts.

"Have you ever kissed up in the air, Evan?" Tommy asked abruptly, his smile way too confident.

"Well," Buck countered without flinching, "I'm a member of the High Mile Club, you know."

Tommy let out a good-natured laugh, filling the helicopter’s small cockpit with mirth. It ended abruptly when a warning light suddenly came on, its frantic red flashes announcing something that Buck believed bode no good.

"What's going on?"

Tommy stared ahead, his knuckles white from clutching the cyclic.

"Engine problem," he admitted, when shortly afterwards a signal tone was heard and more controls began to flash.

"Engine," Buck echoed, already feeling a hint of damp palms. "That's... uh, not good, right?"

"Don't panic," Tommy replied with a curt sideways glance that was apparently intended to be reassuring, yet wasn't at all. "If the helicopter's engine fails, autorotation kicks in. Remember? ’T was pretty much one of the first things you asked me."

"With the help of autorotation, we descend in a controlled manner," said Buck, who actually remembered, "and can make an emergency landing."

"Exactly. It's bound to be a bit bumpy, but…"

His words died away in a dull rumble shaking the cockpit.

"That's normal, right?"

By now Buck didn't care if he sounded nervous, the situation was clearly a cause for tension, and Tommy's petrified expression didn't make things any better.

"Autorotation makes for a rough descent," Tommy said, but the steep crease on his forehead was hardly promising. "It's just that…"

Whatever it was, it was immediately forgotten when a huge jolt went through the helicopter. Tommy tore at the cyclic and flipped a few switches, Buck felt them go into a tailspin. His left hand uselessly gripped the canopy, as if he wanted to hold either himself or the whole contraption together.

"Fuck," Tommy cursed, and that's when Buck knew they were really in deep shit.

Tommy grabbed his headset, apparently about to make a distress call – sensible, Buck thought, with a touch of relief – but at that moment the helicopter plummeted several miles. Buck was prepared for it to get bumpy, as Tommy had put it, yet there was no way to prepare for this. Buck's stomach plunged into infinity, and this morning’s sandwich was about to make its way back. The last thing he saw were Tommy's wide eyes, which held no fear, only regret.

———

Later, Buck had no memory of the impact, although it would haunt him in his dreams. Now, however, the high sun stung him hard, it seemed as if it wanted to break through his closed eyelids. He blinked, his vision blurred for a moment, and looked up into a bright blue sky. Such a beautiful day, he thought dazedly, until he wondered why on earth he was lying on the ground. Millions of sharp grains of sand seemed to drill into his back, but there was more, and then reality hit him. The helicopter. They had crashed.

Tommy.

As a first responder, Buck had learned to stay calm. It was just comparatively difficult when it was you, even more so when it was someone you clearly liked. And as much as Buck loved the adrenaline rush, this required a cool head. So he turned his neck very carefully, getting a first overview without moving. Strangely enough, he found himself lying outside the helicopter, he must have been thrown out on impact. So much for seatbelts. The grains of sand, of which there were undoubtedly plenty, turned out to be much less sharp than the splinters from the canopy, piercing his back.

Slowly, Buck sent impulses to his body, bracing for broken bones – he hardly hurt at all, but the human system provided amazing abilities, and he knew pain might come later and be all the more intense. He moved his fingers carefully, felt whether he could move his toes and worked his way from limb to limb. His overall impression was that, apart from a few cuts and no doubt some bruises, he had been incredibly lucky. Fortune favors fools, he thought, and it had probably been extremely stupid to tempt fate with flight lessons. The wreckage of the helicopter, lying overturned on its top and fuming, was witness to that.

The sight shot an extra dose of adrenaline through Buck's veins, and he suddenly felt wide awake. The angle was unfavorable, so he could barely see into the cockpit, but Tommy was certainly not lying out here. If he was still in there... Smoke means fire, Buck thought incoherently, and with a jerk, he ordered his body to straighten up.

Something dripped from his hair down onto his hand, almost hesitantly, and he felt a little dizzy, although he had expected blood. But that didn't matter. His headphones were gone, and as he slowly rose to his feet, he noticed he was missing a shoe –the fucking expensive Nike’s, sure –and his jeans had a few holes that weren't a fashion statement. Buck plucked a slightly larger piece of shard from his lower leg, limping to the wreckage. He prepared himself to simply find an emergency situation, he was familiar with it, he had experienced it hundreds, heck, a thousand times.

But Buck found that nothing could prepare him for this, and that cold fear was eating into his guts. Somewhere in this half-crushed mess of metal was actually Tommy. Frantically, Buck looked at the rest of the helicopter. Was it really on fire? Would the thing explode? Focus, he thought. He couldn't make out the source of the smoke, and as there was no open fire yet, there was need to hurry but not panic. At least that's what he told himself like a mantra in his head.

His bruised knees cracked as he crouched down next to what was left of the cockpit. There was Tommy, and his heartbeat quickened, but a deep breath forced it to calm. Tommy's belts were still intact and had obviously held, because he was hanging in them like a grotesque bat; after all, the helicopter had turned completely on its own axis. A dangerously jagged piece of glass distorted the view, and after Buck had frantically, albeit unsuccessfully, looked around for stones or the like, he smashed his elbow into the glass

without further ado. Then he took off his remaining shoe to remove enough broken pieces to finally get to Tommy.

Tommy's eyes were closed, the left side of his face barely recognizable beneath blood. Buck didn't notice that his hands were shaking as he carefully reached inside, uttering a much too quiet, too insecure "Tommy?" while searching for his carotid artery.

Time stood still, a vacuum of non-time enveloped Buck. His hands were functional, but not his mind, imagining things. Bad things. Buck had perhaps only survived because he had been tossed out of the helicopter as it crashed. And it was a miracle that he only had suffered a few scratches. Tommy, however, hung in his safety belts motionless, his face a peculiar mixture of paleness and blood. Some victims of an accident appeared completely peaceful but were already dead, some did not even reveal their previous agony. Others seemed lucky, happy to have survived a disaster yet died shortly afterwards from a brain haemorrhage.

It was all so wrong, so unfair; one heartbeat long, Buck felt the fearful knot in his stomach turn to rage. He was hot and cold at the same time, completely unrelated to the merciless sun. Worry, he knew, was a monster devouring the mind. But the sensation that rose up inside him, enveloping him from his toes to the tips of his hair, turning his guts inside out, making his nerves tingle... it was more than ordinary worry. His feelings were familiar, to a certain extend. He had already experienced this kind of fear, this vault of anxiety, with his friends, his family of the 118.

But this was different, and it was so strange. It wasn't supposed to be like this, was it? Tommy and he barely knew each other, two dates and a surprise kiss hardly justified that claim. There was nothing between them yet, nothing worthy of a name, right? Everything was still new, unknown, and yet... Damn, I still don't know how you like your coffee, he thought. I know what your lips taste like, but not your skin. What's your favorite movie, Tommy? Does your hair curl up in the morning? Buck knew nothing of the sort, and probably not much at all, but he knew one thing: he wanted to find these things out.

Buck's eyes widened in surprise when his fingers finally found the artery. Tommy’s pulse was faint, not quite steady; a trapped, restless bird under his equally uneasy grip. It didn’t matter, he was alive, a beating heart can heal, one of his grandmother's many sayings.

"I’ll manage," Buck said, mostly to convince himself, "we'll get out of this."

They would. Even if he didn’t exactly know where they were, other than somewhere in the Californian desert, less than an hour from the city, not the best conditions for an… Emergency call. Realization hit Buck like a bolt of lightning. It didn't matter that he didn't know where they had crashed, his phone could be tracked via GPS. The helicopter had surely been detected by air traffic control, the crash presumably also been registered. They were in the middle of nowhere, no roads to be seen, but the situation was far from hopeless.

Buck quickly changed his mind when he couldn't find his phone in the pockets of his pants, no matter how much he fumbled. First the shoe, then the phone; Buck clearly remembered how his mother had scolded him as a child when he had lost something. Not my fault, he thought, it was never really my fault. Nevermind, there were still options, weren't there? The helicopter's communication system, or Tommy's phone… Tommy. Buck almost slapped himself in the face to call himself to his senses. First things first. Saving lives was much more than his job, and right now, right here, he desperately wanted to save a life. He shook his head to ease the slight fog in his brain and took stock of the situation.

No tools, not even a simple pocket knife. Buck looked at the belts Tommy was attached to, and he had the absurd thought that he was prepared to bite through it, every single damn thread, if he had to. But of course he didn't have to. His gaze fell on the shards he had smashed himself, and a small, wry smile flickered across his face.

Despite all his care and caution, the shard he had chosen cut into his hand while he was working on the belts. Buck hardly noticed; he was concentrating on cutting the fabric, while at the same time checking again and again whether it would cause Tommy to slip. But that didn't happen, the angle at which the helicopter had touched the ground ensured that the pilot was reasonably safe even after removing the straps. Well, as safe as you could be when you were forced to sit upside down, anyway, and Buck knew it was time to change that.

"I'll have you in a minute," he said, as confidently as he allowed himself to be.

Carefully observing the still unconscious Tommy, Buck patted him down, looking for obvious injuries, open wounds, fractures, and any hints on internal bleedings. Only when he was reasonably sure that Tommy would survive the change of position – and actually he wasn't, but he had no choice – did Buck set about carefully pulling the man from his seat. 

———

Grains of sand stuck to Buck's skin, cutting into it almost as much as the numerous shards, and the craziest infection scenarios popped into his mind when he had finally managed to free Tommy from the wreckage. He repeatedly checked his pulse and breathing, mumbled a few words, which again were only meant to calm himself down, and turned to the helicopter.

Amidst the endless, yellow stretch of sand with its occasional dabs of sturdy plants, the jumble of steel and shattered glass looked almost grotesque. A too-big insect that had fallen on its back and would never get up again. The flight school would probably not be happy. Buck stroked his forehead thoughtfully, felt the edges of a laceration and painfully came back to reality. He cast a hesitant glance at Tommy, but then tore himself away and cautiously approached the wreck. The smoke could probably be seen for miles, which was good, but as far as Buck could tell, there was no active fire. A smoldering fire, which bought him time. Those usually sizzled for a long time, and there was nothing he could do about it anyway. As long as they didn't directly breathe in the fumes, they were fine.

Well, fine. For the first time, Buck considered the possibility he might have suffered a concussion, but Tommy was clearly worse off, and that was for him to deal with. He dropped into the sand next to Tommy to examine him more closely. Strangely enough, he appeared... well, almost undamaged. Apart from the blood on his face and his obvious unconsciousness, of course. Very carefully, Buck cupped Tommy's chin, turned the bloody side to get a better view, and found a nasty but mostly harmless laceration near his ear. If they were found in time, and if someone with excellent suturing skills was called in, it would probably only leave a very inconspicuous scar.

Hen’s good at suturing, Buck thought wistfully, but this kind of memories needed to be pushed away. Yes, perhaps he felt something like… homesickness for the 118 because he was in a situation where he could normally rely on an excellent team. But he was neither helpless nor clueless.

"I got this," he assured the unconscious man in the desert sand. "They’ll soon find us, maybe even the 118, wouldn’t that be fun?"

Well, not exactly fun, but a relief nonetheless. Buck remembered Tommy's candor, in his kitchen, when he had admitted that he envied the team's closeness and familiarity. That was true, absolutely; Buck was convinced that Bobby would personally rush the firetruck across the desert if he had a chance to help him. And it was weird to realize that there was someone who felt like he had only a few years ago. Someone who believed that he didn't belong. Someone like Tommy, who was strong on the outside, didn't dare show a weakness, pretended to be something just to keep up appearances. But he had changed. He had opened, just like Buck had to. Because he had realized that this kind of honesty, as corny as it sounded, opened hearts.

It had certainly opened Buck’s.

The hairs on his arms stood up as he realized. That is, he didn't quite realize it yet, but there was something inside him that clearly told him he was on the trail of something big. He looked at Tommy, thinking, oh. They didn't have anything fixed yet, he hadn't even dared to think of Tommy as his possible boyfriend. But what was rising up inside him went beyond any usual concern for a good friend.

A lot of this was new. The feeling was irritating, almost painful, and at the same time it enveloped him like a cosy blanket. Buck knew passion, crushes and deep connection, and all of it felt different. And yet… Now was not the time, and Buck sensed that this feeling inside him was precious. A treasure that was better guarded before it was shown to anyone.

He turned back to Tommy, and now he noticed that his right hand was swollen. Buck carefully touched Tommy’s wrist and immediately felt that it was broken. The pilot had gripped the cyclic so tightly that the force had shattered his wrist at impact. But even that didn't explain why he was unconscious. Of course, it could just have been the impact itself; the forces acting on the human body at such speed were enormous.

Buck had a very clear idea of what injuries were possible, most of which did not have to be visible on the outside. This knowledge was both a blessing and a curse, but right now, it was a hindrance. Because this was Tommy, and the fact that Tommy was injured made Buck's stomach drop to infinity. So much could go wrong. So many ways to miss an opportunity that Buck desperately wanted. So many chances to feel warmth instead of this clamminess when he put his fingers on those cheeks.

He kept his fingers on Tommy's cheeks for a while longer, because what could he actually do? Apart from sheer will and the oppressive knowledge in his head, he had nothing to help Tommy, and that tugged at his nerves. So much so that he felt it physically. Or was that... Electrified, Buck leaned over Tommy, staring at him as if he could see through him, could see his innermost being and understand what was going on.

What was actually going on was simple and yet extremely longed for: Tommy opened his eyes.

———

"'Sup?" he slurred, and relief seemed to pour out of Buck's every pore, so much so that he began to tremble without really realizing it.

The pilot’s gaze was not completely focused, but clearer than one might expect. Buck was so close to him that he could make out tiny speckles in Tommy's eyes, and he placed that information deep in his brain before pulling back a little.

"We crashed," Buck explained, "and it wasn't my fault. I mean, uh, that's probably important for insurance or something."

"Are you saying it was my fault?" Tommy asked, blinking.

"What? No, no way, right before the crash you said something about the engine... wait, y..you're kidding? Now?"

"Now is as good as any time, Evan," Tommy said softly, and Buck's heart went into a big but very pleasant stumble. "Are you okay?"

"Me?"

Buck's exhale was half a laugh, and it must have been contagious, because the corners of Tommy's mouth went up, though he inhaled sharply a moment later.

"Easy," Buck admonished him sternly, "I don't know what's going on yet."

He repeated his palpation, tapping and stroking Tommy's skin, repeatedly asking if this or that hurt. Aside from bruises, cuts, and the broken hand Tommy was regarding with pursed lips, he seemed fine, at least until Buck got to his abdomen.

"Oh," Tommy muttered, as if surprised himself that this felt anything but good.

"Here, left side?" Buck inquired, yet Tommy's pained face told him enough.

Pressure-sensitive abdomen, stiff muscles… Buck's lips were dry, the sun added to it, but he gulped hard.

"Do you feel dazed, confused? Anything else? Blurred vision?"

"I see exactly what I need to see," Tommy said, perhaps a touch too dreamy for Buck's taste, even if it was flattering.

"Wrong time, I guess," Buck said, but he couldn't suppress a small, if shaky grin. "You might have injured your spleen."

"Happens," Tommy replied, seemingly unimpressed, but Buck saw through that facade by now. Then again... was it really that Tommy didn't want to show any weakness even now, or was he so confident that Buck had things under control?

"When will they be here?" Tommy asked suddenly.

"Huh?"

"Emergency services. Do you have a concussion, Evan? You've got blood on your face."

"I have blood on my face?"

It wasn't funny at all, but a dry, harsh laugh escaped him. Then he remembered.

"I've lost my phone. Maybe the helicopter's coms are still working?"

Buck cast a doubtful glance at the wreck, but Tommy slowly shook his head.

"Shortly before the crash, I tried to send mayday, but the radio had failed just like the engine. It's a miracle we're still alive, Evan."

"A miracle," Buck echoed, filled with strange satisfaction. He had defied death once before, he wasn't going to let this stop him after all.

"But," Tommy continued, his still unsteady gaze searching Buck's, "air traffic control had us on their radar, they noticed the crash. We’ll be found even if the GPS has failed, and that is very unlikely."

"As unlikely as a crash despite autorotation."

"Fair."

"I just wish there was something I could do," Buck said, his voice displaying his restlessness – he always felt this way when he wasn’t able to act.

He took another look at the wreckage of the helicopter, and this time something caught his eye. Tommy had been wearing a hoodie with the flight school logo when they'd met at the helipad – it seemed like days ago now, but probably two or three hours at most. However, he had taken it off before the flight, stowing it somewhere behind the seat. Technically, the garment was still behind the seat, except everything was upside down now, and the hoodie had fallen towards the ceiling. Buck quickly grabbed it, pulled it out and finally placed it on Tommy's chest and stomach.

"There you go. Keeping warm is important in case of internal injuries."

"We're in the desert, Evan."

"Right, but we don't want you to go into hypovolemic shock, better safe than sorry, Tommy."

"Don’t worry." Surprised, Buck realized that Tommy had grabbed his hand. "You're doing a great job. I'm not exaggerating, and I'm not flattering you, Evan Buckley, but I'm glad I'm here with you, in this mess."

"Really?"

Buck felt his face brighten, and he hid neither relief nor pride behind a mask of equanimity.

"Really. I mean... what kind of story is that? Just imagine that. We crashed, and my boyfriend saved me, and we both survived."

"Your… your boyfriend," Buck returned, stunned.

"Evan. Don't tell me you don't want this. I'm badly hurt, remember. Don’t hurt me even more."

Buck was thinking a lot of very confusing thoughts at that moment, but he heard the faint undertone of uncertainty, he saw the hint of vulnerability in Tommy’s face.

"I mean," Tommy added, "it's a bonding thing, isn't it? Two dates and a crash are enough for me to know what I want, Evan."

His gaze became searching, and Buck understood, and he could only hope that despite everything, he now radiated that confidence that Tommy obviously craved as much as he did. Tommy wanted him. Him, in fact, not the ideal image of a guy, not an exciting fireman, not a sex-addicted braggart. Himself, under all the layers, with all his experiences and the ones he was yet to have.

"I like it," he said quietly. "And I'll find out how you like your coffee, just wait and see."

Tommy's laugh came a little raspy, which was quite unsettling. Still, it was a laugh, and Buck liked the sound and what it did to the little wrinkles next to Tommy's eyes.

"You don't have to make an effort for that. It's quite simple, I like my coffee…"

His voice trailed off as his gaze became distant.

"Tommy?" Buck inquired anxiously, mentally going over the numerous complications that could happen.

"I... say, do you see that?"

"See what?"

Buck turned his head and looked out into the endless expanse, nothing but brownish yellow and green speckles, and he thought he had no idea what to do if Tommy's condition worsened now. But way back there, there was something else, a different color, and it reminded him of...

"A... a fire engine, I think," he stammered.

A fire engine racing through the middle of the desert, far away from any road or trail. And Buck couldn't help but think of Bobby and the crew, he almost knew it was them.

"You see? It's all gonna be fine, I told you," said Tommy.

"Did you? Hm. Wait. You were just about to tell me how you like your coffee."

"Yes, but I think you should find out for yourself, Evan."

I will, Buck thought, and he smiled.

[shdo-xplosion]

INTRO: BEGIN TRANSMISSION

warnings: general warnings on the MASTERLIST! this chapter contains elements of fear, language barriers, and choking (not in a fun way) 1.4k

notes: this is just the beginning ( •⌄• ू )✧ plzplz tell me what you think!!!

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

“You sure you’re ready for this?”

Securing your helmet, you glance at Shinsou through the convex lense and laugh. “A little late to be asking that, don’t you think?”

“Just giving you the chance to hide under your blankies until this is all over,” he smirks.

“You mean hang out in the ship for the next two years? Think I’d die of boredom.”

When you’d first joined the crew you probably would have been able to entertain yourself for that long, exploring all the nooks and crannies of Hermes, but after years of learning all its secrets most of the mystery is gone.

“Just remember I gave you an out.”

“No outs allowed,” Kendou pipes up, voice distorted by her helmet speaker. “We’ve been preparing for this for years. We’re all ready.” She flexes both of her bionic hands, a subtle indication that she’s just as nervous as the rest of you.

The main door of the ship slides open in front of you, and Kendou leads the way out of the familiar territory and onto the shuttle platform, seven other crew mates following.

You’re all a very long way from home—light years away. The people you’ve left behind have all aged many years while you slept through the journey. Your entire home planet has changed drastically. And it’s only going to keep changing, keep degenerating. It’s why you’re here now.

Nobody knows exactly how to say this world’s name, but they sent a simple message that included something of an alphabet. Shinsou, your language expert, translated as best he could.

“The closest I can get as far as pronunciation is Destro, but they don’t really have vowels, so it’s more like dsst-ruh,” he tried to explain.

“Sounds a lot like ‘destroy’,” you had pointed out, trying to laugh off your unease.

Monoma snickered while throwing an arm around your shoulders. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect you if anything spooky happens.”

It’s hard to get that out of your head as you make your way down the catwalk. Don’t look down, don’t look down, you repeat to yourself. The landing port and platform seem to be surrounded by nothing, a single lit up construct in the darkness. Though the station is in view, it looks very small.

Every step closer makes your stomach crawl higher in your throat, and by the time you make it to the massive doors that will grant you entry, you feel like throwing up.

“It’ll be fine,” Kendou’s voice sounds through her speaker. “We’re doing this for all of humanity.”

“You sound very brave,” Monoma snorts.

Shinsou, unwilling to wait apparently, steps forward and pounds on the door, unfazed when a large sphere drops out of nowhere, red light pointed in his face.

“Probably a camera,” he says.

“Or some kind of laser that’s about to melt your face off.”

“Helpful, Monoma. Very helpful,” you comment sarcastically.

Shinsou slowly holds up a gloved hand for the supposed camera to see, then speaks clearly: “Planet Earth. Humans.”

You don’t know what good it will do since they don’t speak your language, but whoever or whatever is on the other side of the doors must understand enough to know that you are not invaders but visitors.

The grind of the doors opening echoes in the abyss, a bone-chilling sound. You rest your hand on the gun at your hip, eyes widening as you’re finally able to see what lies ahead.

A handful of strangers are waiting for you, and you try to take in as much as you can in a short amount of time. Humanoid in stature aside from size, the same number of limbs, even their faces look similar to yours. But their eyes are different—sharp, the sclera (or what you assume to be), filled in red rather than white. What could be hair looks coarse and glitters in the light. There are markings on their cheeks and noses, different colors, and their skin, ranging in human hues, is smattered with scales.

Shinsou has his tablet ready, projecting a hologram of their alphabet so that he can point to the different letters that spell out ‘hello’ followed by ‘peace’.

The alien at the front of the group nods, grunts, then raises a hand and points at the device to spell something else out. Shinsou’s tablet collects each letter and translates them so that he can look at the rest of you and relay, “decontamination. I guess that’s the first thing we need to do.”

After a few more typed exchanges, the possible leader turns and motions your crew to follow his.

They’re taller than all of you, averaging anywhere between 7 and 8 feet, but the similarities are a little baffling to you. You suppose if their planet is anything like earth, the shared traits make sense. Maybe they’re taller because this world is richer in oxygen. Maybe their longer fingers have more webbing in between because they spend more time in water. Maybe the serrated teeth one of them flashes at you are for tearing apart tougher meat.

Or for ripping the throats from their prey.

You force a smile at the one looking down at you, hoping it isn’t an aggressive gesture. The way it puffs its chest out and shows more of its teeth makes you think it might be trying to smile back.

Despite your crew outnumbering theirs by three, you can’t help but feel watched, like there are many many more eyes on you that you can’t see. It makes your skin prickle, and you keep your hand close to your gun.

Another, smaller set of metal doors opens, and once inside the creature in charge points toward a room that looks to be made of glass. You can see through the walls, spot dozens of fixtures that resemble sprinkler spickets. Decontamination.

“Are we sure this is a good idea?” you ask Kendou. “We don’t know what they’re going to use on us. What if it’s acid or something?”

Her jaw is set, eyes trained on the room you’re being led to.

“It won’t be. If they wanted to hurt us, they wouldn’t have offered their help,” she reasons.

You’re not so sure about that.

“Suits off,” Shinsou says, holding up his tablet as if anyone else can read it. “There’s enough oxygen that we’ll be able to breathe.” He takes his helmet off to demonstrate, and you’re relieved when his head doesn’t explode on the spot. “It’s sort of like breathing at a high-altitude, though, so be ready for that.”

You have to fight every one of your instincts in order to strip yourself of your suit and helmet—your protection. It’s your life support when you’re traveling the stars. You feel completely vulnerable without it.

In nothing but underclothes, the 8 of you walk into the strange chamber. All you can think is that these might be the last few breaths that you ever take. This could all be a trap, no large step for mankind.

The door closes, and you stare through it, catching the red eyes of the alien who had been walking next to you. You think you see his mouth begin to pull up on one side just as a substance begins spraying from the spickets all around you.

It isn’t liquid nor is it gas—more like some kind of powder that coats your mouth and makes you cough. If it was hard to breathe before, it’s getting impossible now, this stuff clogging your throat and the throats of those around you.

The room is filled with violent hacking. Monoma vomits next to you, his watery eyes caked with whatever this is.

You wave a hand in front of your face in an attempt to dispel some of the flakes floating around you, searching for Kendou, for Shinsou, for an escape as you realize with terror that your gut instinct has been right. You never should have walked into this place, never should have taken one step off Hermes. This was a fruitless mission. This was arrogance, humans thinking you deserved to be helped.

Your vision is almost non-existent, and it feels like every inch of you is caked with whatever poison is pouring down on you. You bang on the wall with a desperation you’ve never felt before, screaming pleas you know the creatures don’t understand.

We’re dying. I’m dying. We came all this way to be killed.

The smiling alien watches you as you grow more and more light-headed. Whatever you’re inhaling burns your lungs, your mouth, the very inside of your skull.

The last thing you see before blacking out is the smiling alien’s split tongue running over its lips, a hungry beast waiting for its next meal.

ₓ˚. ୭ ˚○◦˚.˚◦○˚ ୧ .˚ₓ

2023©️shidou-x. please do not plagiarize or repost my work to any other platforms.

[jedimaesteryoda]

Mance Rayder had always served as a mirror of Jon himself. Mance, like Jon, never knew his birth parents and was found as an infant after the members the party he was in were killed and he was taken in by his family's enemies, in this case the Night's Watch. He would go on to join the Night's Watch likely around Jon's age.

He had assumed a false identity as a bard to infiltrate Winterfell when King Robert visited, telling that story ironically as Jon played the false identity of a deserter when he came to see the King-beyond-the-Wall.

Jon noted that Mance didn't look like a king, and easily passed him over while ironically Jon himself is also a king in the sense that he is heir to the Targaryen dynasty, but he doesn't look like royal blood with his mother's dark features in place of Targaryen ones. Mance was a king posing as a bard at Winterfell while Jon was one (unwittingly) posing as a bastard. Mance singing and playing strings itself is reminiscent of Rhaegar who played the high harp.

One arrow took Mance Rayder in the chest, one in the gut, one in the throat. The fourth struck one of the cage's wooden bars, and quivered for an instant before catching fire. A woman's sobs echoed off the Wall as the wildling king slid bonelessly to the floor of his cage, wreathed in fire. "And now his Watch is done," Jon murmured softly. Mance Rayder had been a man of the Night's Watch once, before he changed his black cloak for one slashed with bright red silk. -ADWD, Jon III When the third dagger took him between the shoulder blades, he gave a grunt and fell face-first into the snow. He never felt the fourth knife. Only the cold … -ADWD, Jon XIII

Mance (actually Rattleshirt) dies as he felt the heat as his cage burns while Jon feels the cold and will likely be put into the ice cellars. Yet, we later learn Mance isn't actually dead just as Jon likely isn't.

"One day on a ranging we brought down a fine big elk. We were skinning it when the smell of blood drew a shadow-cat out of its lair. I drove it off, but not before it shredded my cloak to ribbons. Do you see? Here, here, and here?" He chuckled. "It shredded my arm and back as well, and I bled worse than the elk. My brothers feared I might die before they got me back to Maester Mullin at the Shadow Tower, so they carried me to a wildling village where we knew an old wisewoman did some healing. She was dead, as it happened, but her daughter saw to me. Cleaned my wounds, sewed me up, and fed me porridge and potions until I was strong enough to ride again. And she sewed up the rents in my cloak as well, with some scarlet silk from Asshai that her grandmother had pulled from the wreck of a cog washed up on the Frozen Shore. It was the greatest treasure she had, and her gift to me." -ASOS, Jon I

Mance ultimately left the Night's Watch after a near-death experience. A woman who had red silk from Assahi (like Melisandre of Asshai's dresses) healed him. Like Mance, Jon was attacked after dealing with a stag, Stannis Baratheon, who was believed killed by Ramsay Bolton with a habit of skinning people. Just as a shadow-cat was drawn out by the scent of the stag's blood, Stannis's apparent demise drew out Marsh and Co to attack Jon. Jon is near-death, but will likely be healed at least in part by Melisandre of Asshai and help from the wildlings.

Afterwards, he left the Wall to become a king wearing a cloak of black and red, the colors of House Targaryen, to unite his people against the Long Night.