#I hope the story and mechanics don’t fall flat :( | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kingofbodyrolls · 1 year ago

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Friendcation (m) | myg | two

When you get a flat tire, you think it’s bad luck, but when you fall flat on your ass and Yoongi offers to massage the pain away, has your luck finally turned? 😜

→ Pairing: Yoongi x reader (female) → Other characters: Jimin, Jungkook, Taehyung, Namjoon, Hoseok and Seokjin. → Genre/AU: best friends to friend with benefits to lovers, non idol!au, camping!au, roadtrip!au, mechanic!Yoongi, humor, slight angst, smut and fluff → Rating: mature/explicit/R18 (This is mature/explicit content, so minors, please do not interact.) → Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags/warnings before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸 → Status: completed! → Word Count: 12,7k → Warnings: more pent up sexual feelings, second hand embarrassment, feelings, very tiny angst, smut; oral (female), moaning (yes it is a warning for this chapter), Yoongi fixing a flat tire. → Author’s note: I didn’t plan to include smut in this chapter, first in chapter three, but here we are 😆 I just couldn’t help myself when I wrote the second to last section! I hope you enjoy it 😍 → Read on AO3? [link] ✨

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As the July sun blazed overhead, you and your friends embarked on the familiar ritual of packing up your camping gear in Busan.

Beads of sweat formed on your foreheads as you disassembled the tent, the fabric warm to the touch. The scent of sunscreen lingered in the air, a reminder of the fun days spent at the beach.

Amid the hustle and bustle of folding tents and stowing away supplies, a bittersweet feeling washed over you. Leaving Busan meant saying goodbye to a place filled with cherished memories, but it also meant welcoming new adventures and destinations.

As you secured the last strap on the van’s roof rack, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of anticipation for what lay ahead.

During the drive to your next destination, Changwon, the memories of the ‘Never Have I Ever’ game played a few days ago kept swirling in your mind. You couldn’t help but wonder about the intriguing responses, especially Yoongi’s question about having sex at work. It piqued your curiosity.

As the van rumbled down the highway, you turned to your friends seated in the back, a mischievous glint in your eye.

“Hey, guys, remember that game of ‘Never Have I Ever’?” Your voice carried a playful tone, drawing their attention.

Jimin, who was busy fiddling with his phone, looked up with a grin, Jungkook and Taehyung exchanged sly glances, while Yoongi, who was behind the wheel, shot a quick glance at you through the rearview mirror. The anticipation in the air was palpable.

“Yeah,” Jimin replied, his interest piqued. “What about it?”

A sly smile played on your lips as you leaned back in your seat, ready to stir up some conversation.

“I’ve been wondering about the answers you gave. Especially that question about having sex at work… How exactly does one do that?” you asked, your tone filled with intrigue and a hint of teasing.

Jimin chuckled, leaning forward in his seat, eager to share. “Well,” he began, his eyes dancing with mischief, “it’s all about finding the right time and place. You see, when you’re working late in the office, and the tension is high because of deadlines or a demanding boss, that’s when things can get interesting.”

Jungkook chimed in, his playful grin widening. “Exactly. And sometimes, there’s an empty conference room, and you steal a few passionate moments there.”

Taehyung, ever the storyteller, leaned forward, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Or picture this: the office party is in full swing, everyone’s a little tipsy, and you sneak away to a quiet corner. The thrill of doing something taboo can be a huge turn-on.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at their vivid descriptions. “Sounds like you guys have it all figured out,” you teased.

“Was it with a coworker?” you asked, leaning in with genuine curiosity. “Wasn’t it weird and uncomfortable after?” Your interest was piqued, especially in the dynamics that followed such encounters.

Jungkook leaned in, his eyes sparkling with the memory. “For me, it happened during a photoshoot,” he began, his voice carrying a touch of nostalgia.

“It was one of the make-up artists. We clicked instantly, you know? Working long hours together, sharing laughs, and all that. So one day, things just... happened,” he chuckled, his cheeks faintly tinged with a rosy hue.

As he continued, his expression turned more serious, yet reassuring. “I’ve seen her afterward, not in that context, just at work,” he explained.

“And honestly, it wasn’t weird at all. We talked it out, agreed that our working relationship was too important to let something like that get in the way.” He paused, his comforting smile returning. “So, no, I don’t think it’s weird. It’s all about how you handle it, I guess.”

His words carried a sense of wisdom beyond his years, and you couldn’t help but appreciate the candidness with which he shared his experiences.

You turned your head to Jimin, curiosity piqued. “Jimin, I’ve never heard this story before,” you said, a hint of amazement in your voice. Jimin simply shrugged, wearing a sly grin. “No biggie, just had a little rendezvous with my boss in her office.”

Your eyes widened at this unexpected revelation, but before you could react, Jungkook and Taehyung burst into laughter, their excitement palpable. Jungkook playfully nudged Jimin, teasingly exclaiming, “Jimin, you sly dog! Tell us more!”

“Gross, Jimin,” you teased, wrinkling your nose in exaggerated disgust.

“Is that even legal?”Jimin chuckled, unfazed by your reaction. “We’re all adults here, and honestly, the company didn’t seem to give a damn,” he replied with a nonchalant shrug.

“Gosh, I’m surrounded by a bunch of grown fuckboys!" you exclaimed, playfully covering your eyes with your hands, as if shielding yourself from the collective mischief of your friends. Their laughter filled the air, and the camper van was filled with an infectious energy that made you all feel like carefree teenagers on a wild adventure.

“Hey, I’m not a fuckboy!” Yoongi protested, his mock offense causing you all to burst into laughter.

Taehyung, never one to miss an opportunity for teasing, chimed in from the back seat, “Are you even getting any action, Yoongi?”

“Well,” Yoongi retorted with a smirk, “I’m not celibate!”

There were snickers from the back seat, and Jimin couldn’t resist prodding further, pushing his eyebrows up and winking mischievously. “What about you, ___? Never had an office fuck?”

You groaned at the mere thought, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

“God no!” you exclaimed, nearly shrieking. “That’s a level of drama I can happily live without.”

“I bet you get a lot of action with your vibrator, right?”

Taehyung’s question was directed at you, and it made your cheeks turn a shade of red that rivaled a ripe tomato. You weren’t a prude by any means, but openly discussing your sexual life with your close friends, especially in such a candid way, was still somewhat uncharted territory. You had talked about it with Jimin before, sure, but with the other guys, it was a whole new level of awkward.

“That’s for me to know and you to... wonder about,” you quipped with a playful wink, crossing your arms beneath your chest. As you did, you couldn’t help but notice how Yoongi’s gaze momentarily lingered on your breasts before returning to the road.

“She totally does!” Jungkook exclaimed, and both he and Taehyung erupted into laughter. Jimin just chuckled knowingly; after all, he was the one who had gifted you the damn thing. You used the vibrator to get your mind off Yoongi, so, yes, you had your fair share of fun with it.

Yoongi kept his eyes on the road, but a subtle smile tugged at the corners of his lips. He found the subject slightly amusing, and he couldn’t help but steal occasional glances at you.

He enjoyed seeing your cheeks flush with embarrassment and the way you pouted in response to the teasing banter.

“Can we talk about something else, please?” you say in a sour voice, slightly irritated by the subject.

Jimin, ever the peacemaker, quickly chimes in, “Sure thing! Let’s talk about our plans for Changwon. Any must-see places or activities?”

As you arrive at your next destination in Changwon, a picturesque camping spot by the ocean, the anticipation of setting up camp fills the air. The soothing sound of waves crashing nearby adds to the tranquil atmosphere.

While you and the others begin unpacking and setting up the campsite, you notice Taehyung approaching Jungkook and Jimin with a hopeful expression. He speaks up, his tone almost pleading, “Guys, can we change the sleeping arrangement again?”

Jimin chuckles, clearly aware of Taehyung’s motives.

Jungkook, always up for adventure, flashes a mischievous smile and nods in agreement. “Why not? I haven’t tried sleeping in the van yet. Let’s switch it up,” he declares, promptly gathering his belongings and tossing them into the van.

For a fleeting moment, curiosity nags at the back of your mind, making you wonder why Taehyung suddenly wants to change the sleeping arrangements.

His request is not entirely unexpected, given his penchant for mixing things up, but there’s a subtle curiosity tugging at your thoughts. You steal a brief glance at Taehyung, who’s now helping Jungkook load his things into the van, a sly smile playing on his lips.

You’ve known Taehyung long enough to recognize that look, but you decide not to dwell too long on it.

The sun hangs low in the afternoon sky, casting a warm, golden hue over your group. With appetites awakened by the salty sea breeze, you and your friends unanimously agree to visit the bustling local fish market.

As you step into the lively marketplace, the air is filled with the pungent scent of freshly caught seafood mingling with the excited chatter of vendors and shoppers. The vibrant array of colorful stalls and the sounds of fishmongers calling out their catches surround you. You can’t help but feel a sense of anticipation and camaraderie as you navigate the maze of stalls, each of your friends pointing out their seafood preferences. The lively banter, laughter, and occasional friendly debates about the perfect catch for dinner add to the lively atmosphere.

With every step, the rich tapestry of sights, sounds, and shared excitement draws you all closer, making the simple act of buying fish for dinner a memorable and heartwarming experience.

As the sun begins to set, casting a warm, amber glow across the campsite, the enticing aroma of sizzling fish fills the air. Yoongi and Taehyung, the resident culinary experts of your group, work their magic over the crackling campfire.

The flames dance and cast playful shadows as they flip and season the fish, their laughter and easy camaraderie creating an enchanting atmosphere. Meanwhile, you, Jimin, and Jungkook find yourselves lounging comfortably by the campfire’s side, the fire’s soft crackle a soothing backdrop to your conversation.

The twilight sky above is painted with hues of orange and pink, and the gentle sea breeze rustles the leaves in the nearby trees.

Amidst the cozy ambiance, Jungkook’s voice is infused with excitement as he proposes a plan for tomorrow. His eyes light up as he describes the local Cherry Blossom festival, where the trees are said to burst into a breathtaking display of pink and white blooms.

You can’t help but be captivated by his enthusiasm, and a shared sense of anticipation washes over your group. You eagerly agree to his suggestion, imagining the serene beauty of cherry blossoms.

To cap off the evening, you indulge in the mouthwatering dinner masterfully crafted by Yoongi and Taehyung, savoring every bite of the freshly grilled fish. As the satisfying flavors linger on your palate, you bid your friends goodnight and retire to your sleeping quarters, the day’s adventures and the promise of tomorrow’s cherry blossoms still echoing in your mind.

The following morning, you’re roused from slumber by the soothing symphony of splashing water and the mirthful echoes of laughter.

Intrigued, you venture outside, where you discover Jungkook and Taehyung diligently tending to the laundry. To your chagrin, they are playfully inspecting your underwear, their mischievous giggles dancing through the air.

A crimson blush creeps across your cheeks as you grapple with a mixture of embarrassment and amusement.

“Why are you washing my underwear?” In response, they simply dissolve into more laughter, their mischievous whistles serenading your frustration as they hang one of your panties up to dry.

“Why would you wear something delicate like this while camping, of all things? Don’t you want to be more comfortable?" His bewilderment adds a layer of humor to the situation, making you reconsider your choice of undergarments amidst the camping adventure.

Jimin and Yoongi exchange glances, their eyes filled with amusement as they observe the unfolding scene.

“I am perfectly comfortable in my lacy underwear, thank you very much!” you declare defiantly, snatching the rest of your freshly washed undergarments from Taehyung and Jungkook.

With an air of determination, you hang them up yourself, your actions echoing your unapologetic confidence.

Jungkook snickers mischievously, casting a knowing glance at Yoongi.

“Don’t tell me you’re wearing those to seduce someone,” he teases, clearly trying to bait you.

With a sly grin, he stirs the pot, well aware of your feelings for Yoongi. It’s a playful jab aimed at riling you up, and he’s not holding back.

“No,” you reply with unwavering confidence, “I’m wearing them for me.” Your response carries a hint of defiance, a subtle assertion that your choices are entirely your own, not influenced by anyone else’s expectations or opinions.

Jimin playfully teases, “Aw, it must be tough for ___ and Yoongi, having to endure three long months without any... relief.”

He shoots a mischievous glance at Yoongi, waiting to see his reaction. The atmosphere in the group is charged with a mixture of humor and anticipation, and all eyes are on Yoongi to gauge his response.

With a sense of frustration and embarrassment boiling inside you, you lash out, "Why is everything always about sex? It’s like this trip has turned you all into a bunch of horny teenagers!” Your words carry a mix of exasperation and humor, and your outburst breaks the tension, causing your friends to burst into laughter.

Jungkook chimes in with a playful glint in his eye, “Well, they could always help each other out,” accompanied by a suggestive wink.

Your face flushes crimson, and you wish you could just disappear into the ground.

Out of the corner of your eye, you catch what might be a subtle blush on Yoongi’s cheeks, but your own embarrassment consumes your attention too fully to be certain.

Taehyung shrugs nonchalantly. “We’re just being guys, you know? It happens. Aren’t you feeling a bit... horny too?” he teases, a mischievous smile dancing on his lips.

You quickly change the subject, determined to put an end to the awkward conversation. “I think it’s time to head to the Cherry Blossom festival,” you suggest, a glimmer of excitement in your eyes.

“Let’s not waste any more time. Come on, everyone,” Yoongi encourages, his voice filled with enthusiasm as he rallies the group.

As you step into the Cherry Blossom festival, a breathtaking sea of pink engulfs your senses. The delicate petals of the cherry blossoms flutter in the gentle breeze, creating a mesmerizing pink canopy that feels like something out of a dream. The air is filled with a faint, sweet fragrance that adds to the enchantment of the moment.

The beauty of the scene is almost overwhelming, and you can’t help but feel a deep sense of appreciation for nature’s artistry. The soft, rosy hues of the blossoms against the clear blue sky create a picture-perfect backdrop that makes you feel like you’ve stepped into a fairytale.

Your group is equally captivated, and you decide to capture this magical day in photographs. First, you all gather for a group photo, with the cherry blossoms as your backdrop. The smiles on your faces reflect the joy and wonder you feel at being surrounded by such natural beauty. Then, you take turns photographing each other amidst the blossoms. You frame shots that showcase the individuality and personality of each person, making sure to include the vibrant pink blossoms as a stunning backdrop.

The laughter and camaraderie among your friends make the experience even more memorable. These photographs will serve as cherished mementos of a day filled with beauty and friendship, a reminder of the remarkable moments you’ve shared in the midst of nature’s splendor.

After a day filled with the enchantment of cherry blossoms and the joy of friendship, you all decide to wind down with a delightful meal at a local restaurant.

The day’s adventures have left you with a heartwarming sense of contentment. As you step into the cozy local restaurant, the aroma of delectable dishes fills the air, teasing your senses and making your stomach rumble with anticipation.

The ambiance is inviting, with warm lighting and the comforting hum of chatter from other diners.

You find a table together, and the atmosphere is instantly filled with laughter and stories of the day’s highlights. The restaurant’s menu offers a tantalizing array of local specialties, and you all eagerly explore the culinary delights on offer.

The dishes that arrive at your table are a symphony of flavors, each one a testament to the region’s culinary prowess. You savor every bite, the taste of the food mingling with the happiness of being surrounded by your best friends.

As the meal draws to a close, you can’t help but think that this day, with its cherry blossoms and heartwarming dinner, has been nothing short of magical. The anticipation of a restful night’s sleep settles in, but you know that the memories of this day will stay with you for a lifetime.

With satisfied stomachs and hearts full of laughter, you make your way back to the campsite.

The evening sky is painted with hues of deep orange and soft purple as the sun bids adieu for the day. As you arrive, a sense of tranquility washes over you, and you realize that the night is just beginning to reveal its charms.

Eager to extend the enchantment of the day, you and your friends decide to kindle a campfire. The crackling flames dance to their own melody, casting flickering shadows that playfully chase one another across the forest floor. The warmth of the fire draws you in, its glow reflecting the camaraderie you all share.

A cooler stocked with chilled beers stands nearby, beckoning you to unwind and continue the festivities. You reach for a bottle, the condensation cool against your hand, and the first sip is like a soothing sigh that complements the serenity of the campfire.

As you sit around the fire, stories and anecdotes flow like the gentle babble of a nearby stream. The night air is crisp, and the symphony of chirping crickets provides the perfect background score to your laughter and conversations.

The stars above twinkle brightly, as if they too are part of your circle, and you can’t help but feel a profound sense of contentment. The world may be vast and full of uncertainties, but in this moment, by the campfire’s warm embrace, you are exactly where you’re meant to be.

Jungkook, with a hint of uncertainty in his eyes, turns to Jimin and Taehyung, his voice carrying an unspoken plea. “Do any of you want to switch sleeping places with me?” he asks, his tone hopeful.

Taehyung chuckles, his laughter carrying a mysterious undertone that leaves you intrigued, “No thank you”.

Jimin, on the other hand, remains silent, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond the fire’s glow.

A sense of intrigue swirls within the circle as you begin to sense that there’s more to this situation than meets the eye.

You steal a glance at Yoongi, hoping for some clue, but his stoic expression gives nothing away. In the midst of this silent exchange, you can’t help but feel like an outsider, yearning to unravel the enigma that seems to bind your friends together.

As you watch the flickering flames, you’re left with an undeniable curiosity, a desire to understand what lies beneath the surface of your friends’ unspoken words.

Your voice carries a hint of curiosity and a playful pout as you question Jungkook’s sudden desire to switch sleeping arrangements. With a furrowed brow, you inquire, “Why don’t you want to sleep in the van anymore, Kookie? It’s only been one day.”

Your genuine wonderment laces your words, as you genuinely try to fathom why he would prefer the tent over the cozy confines of the van, which had offered you all a sense of comfort and security.

The firelight dances in your eyes as you lock gazes with Jungkook, your expression reflecting a mix of amusement and intrigue. It’s not just about the logistics of sleeping arrangements; it’s about understanding the underlying reasons and motivations of your friends.

The campfire’s crackling cadence seems to mirror the anticipation in the air as you wait for Jungkook’s response, eager to unravel the mystery behind his choice.

Silence envelops the group as they exchange subtle glances, each seemingly holding a piece of a hidden puzzle.

Frustration simmers beneath the surface, and you can’t help but let it rise to the forefront. With a surge of emotion, you break the silence, your voice carrying an edge of exasperation, “What?”

The word resonates with a mix of curiosity and impatience, urging your friends to divulge the secret they seem to be guarding. Your declaration hangs in the air, a challenge for them to finally share what’s on their minds.

Yoongi and Jimin exchange resigned glances, their silence hinting at an unspoken truth. You venture a guess, your voice carrying a tinge of hurt, “Is it because I snore?”

The words hang heavy in the air, revealing your vulnerability. Jungkook hesitates for a moment, then starts to confirm your suspicion, “No, well, yes, you do snore.”

His confession is met with icy glares from both Yoongi and Jimin, who seem eager to shield you from any embarrassment.

Frustration creeps into your voice as you press for answers, demanding, “What is it then?”

Your determination to uncover the truth adds an air of suspense to the conversation.

Suddenly, Taehyung’s voice shatters the tranquility of the evening, his exclamation sharp and forceful, like a thunderclap.

“God, woman! You fucking moan in your sleep!”

He punctuates his words with wild, flailing gestures, as if attempting to physically expel the shocking revelation from the air.

The sheer unexpectedness of his outburst left you gaping, your mouth forming a perfect ’O’ of astonishment. Dumbfounded and utterly caught off guard, you felt a blazing rush of embarrassment coursing through your veins, your body tingling with warmth, and your face flushed a deep crimson.

Overwhelmed by the situation, you instinctively cover your mouth with a trembling hand, as though to shield yourself from the embarrassment that threatens to consume you.

With furtive glances, you scanned the faces of the men in your group, only to find fleeting eyes, a collective attempt to evade the discomfort that now hung heavily in the air. It was as though an unspoken agreement had fallen over the group, tacitly declaring that this subject was not one they wanted to delve into any further.

The silence that follows is thick and palpable, saturated with a shared sense of unease, leaving everyone grappling with the intimate and unexpected revelation.

“I moan in my sleep?” you stammer, your voice trembling with a mix of disbelief and mortification.

Your gaze darts anxiously around the circle of your closest friends, desperately seeking any sign that this confession was nothing more than a cruel joke or a misunderstanding.

The weight of your realization bore down on you like a ton of bricks, and you couldn’t help but wonder if every single one of them had been privy to your most private and vulnerable moments. The sheer embarrassment of the situation threatens to swallow you whole, and you wish the ground would open up and swallow you.

“Sometimes you sound like something that came straight out of a porno,” Jimin chimed in casually, his tone laced with playful teasing.

Your eyes widened in shock, and your face flushed an even deeper shade of crimson.

The words hit you like a freight train, and you could hardly believe he had just said that out loud.

Utterly mortified, you bury your burning face in your hands, overwhelmed by the sheer embarrassment of the moment. This was undoubtedly one of the most awkward and cringe-worthy situations you’d ever found yourself in.

“I don’t understand how Yoongi hyung manages to sleep in that van with you,” Taehyung chimed in, a hint of laughter in his voice but genuine curiosity shining through.

You let out a groan of embarrassment, your face still buried in your hands, when you suddenly feel the reassuring touch of Yoongi’s hand on your shoulder.

“It’s really not that bad, honestly,” he said, his voice calm and comforting. The warmth of his hand and the support in his words easing some of your mortification, but you couldn’t help but wish the ground would swallow you whole still.

“But it is! Apparently, I sound like I’m having sex while I’m sleeping, and you’ve all heard it!”

You hiss in frustration, a jumble of emotions swirling within you—sadness, anger, and utter embarrassment. Yoongi’s hand continues to rub your shoulder in soothing circles, his presence a comforting anchor amidst the storm of your embarrassment and frustration.

As you feel Yoongi’s reassuring hands on your shoulder, you gradually begin to relax. His comforting presence helps ease the embarrassment that has overwhelmed you.

“Don’t let it bother you,” Yoongi remarks casually, his shrug implying that to him, they were just harmless noises. It was clear that the situation didn’t seem to faze him at all, unlike the others.

Jungkook couldn’t contain his laughter as he continued, “At first, I thought she was masturbating! I was so confused!”

The others, except Yoongi, joined in, their chuckles filling the air.

You couldn’t help but feel a mix of exasperation and amusement at their teasing, realizing that they were trying to lighten the mood after the initial embarrassment. Frustration bubbling inside you, you finally speak up, “If you all have a problem with it, I think you should sleep in the tent!”

Your voice carries a hint of anger, but Jimin, ever the peacemaker, chuckles softly and replies, “I really don’t mind,” as he gives an indifferent shrug.

“I don’t have a problem either,” Yoongi says nonchalantly, his words sinking in like a soothing balm.

“I think your noises are sorta cute.”

Your face flushes an even deeper shade of red, and your mind races with questions.

What does he mean by ‘cute’?

The ambiguity leaves you intrigued and flustered all at once.

“Alright, then. I’ll sleep in the van with Yoongi and ___, and Jungkook and Taehyung, please be mature about this,” Jimin says firmly, leveling a stern gaze at them, daring them to challenge his decision.

As the night envelops the campsite, you lay there with a heavy and embarrassing heart.

Restlessly, you toss and turn in your bed, the weight of the day’s revelations making it impossible to find solace in sleep. The whispers of embarrassment and insecurity haunt your restless mind, leaving you in a state of sleepless torment.

The following day, you embark on a mission into town, a touch of determination in your stride. Your goal? To purchase earplugs for each of your friends, a thoughtful gesture to spare them from the nightly symphony of your sounds.

As you select the earplugs, you can’t help but wonder if this small act of consideration will help you regain some of your lost dignity and comfort in the company of your friends.

As you stroll through the Art Village later, you can’t help but marvel at the kaleidoscope of colors that surround you. Vibrant buildings painted in every hue imaginable line the streets, creating a whimsical and picturesque backdrop for your day.

Taehyung, with his keen eye for photography, eagerly captures the essence of the village, ensuring that your memories are forever preserved in the form of vivid snapshots. You all pose for pictures together, your smiles reflecting the joy of this shared experience.

At Taehyung’s request, you also venture into the Art Museum, where you’re greeted by a world of creativity and imagination. Each piece of art tells a unique story, and you find yourself drawn into the intricate details and vibrant colors that bring the canvases to life.

On the following day, your group decides to split up, each sub-group pursuing their unique interests.

Taehyung, Jimin, and Jungkook are eager to explore the enchanting world of cinema by visiting an open film set. Their faces light up with excitement as they step onto the hallowed ground where movie magic comes to life. The intricate set pieces and behind-the-scenes glimpses of filmmaking inspire awe and ignite their creative spirits.

Meanwhile, you and Yoongi opt for a more serene and leisurely pace, immersing yourselves in the tranquil beauty of nature.

Your day begins at a pristine lake, where the waters glisten under the gentle caress of the sun. Surrounded by the calming embrace of nature, you both take in the serenity of the scene, finding solace in the rippling reflections on the water’s surface.

From there, you venture to the Junam Reservoir, a place where time seems to stand still.

Yoongi, ever the observer, finds solace in watching the graceful dance of birds soaring through the endless azure sky. The harmony between Yoongi and the natural world around him is truly a sight to behold, a testament to the profound beauty of simplicity and tranquility.

As you sit by the reservoir, you can’t help but be captivated by the elegance of the moment. It’s an image of nature’s artistry, with Yoongi at its center, offering a different kind of beauty—one that transcends words and resonates deep within your soul.

You don’t know which is more beautiful, the sight of the birds or Yoongi himself.

Upon your return to the campsite, a shared sense of contentment and camaraderie envelops your group.

The day’s adventures have left you all feeling rejuvenated, the bonds of friendship growing stronger with every moment spent together. As you gather around the campfire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows on your faces, you engage in lively conversation about your respective experiences.

With the warmth of the fire as a backdrop, you collectively decide that tomorrow is the perfect time to embark on a new adventure. The anticipation of exploring the next city on your journey sparks excitement in each of you. Ideas and plans for what to see and do in the upcoming destination fill the air, igniting a shared sense of wanderlust.

In this moment, your friendcation feels like a beautiful tapestry, woven from the threads of laughter, adventure, and the unbreakable bonds that connect you all.

The promise of new experiences and the thrill of discovery infuses your discussions with a sense of purpose and anticipation, making the decision to move on to the next city a unanimous and exciting one.

As you prepare dinner together, the aroma of a delicious meal fills the air, a testament to the harmony and teamwork that define your journey. The campfire becomes the heart of your campsite, where stories are shared, laughter rings out, and dreams of the adventures to come light up your eyes.

Under the gentle morning sun, its warm rays casting a golden glow on your group, you gather around Holly, ready to embark on the next leg of your journey. The atmosphere is charged with anticipation and excitement, each of you fueled by the promise of new experiences waiting in Jinju.

As you load up the van, it becomes a symbolic vessel of your shared adventure, carrying not only your belongings but also the countless memories you’ve created so far.

The engine roars to life, and you feel a rush of exhilaration as you hit the road once more, the open road stretching out before you like an invitation to the unknown. The drive to Jinju is filled with moments of camaraderie and shared laughter, as Holly becomes a haven of conversation and connection.

You discuss the sights you’re eager to see in the new city, swapping stories of past travels and adventures along the way.

The drive to your next destination is a breeze, guided by Yoongi’s skilled hand at the wheel. With the precision of a seasoned traveler, he navigates the roads and effortlessly leads you to a picturesque campground nestled in the heart of Jinju’s natural beauty.

As you arrive at the campground, a sense of familiarity washes over you. Setting up camp has become second nature during this journey, a well-practiced routine that you and your friends execute with graceful efficiency. In no time, tents are pitched, the campfire crackles to life, and Holly is neatly parked, blending seamlessly into the tranquil surroundings.

The scent of nature fills the air, intermingling with the anticipation of the adventures yet to come. Each time you assemble your temporary home, it’s as if you’re building a sanctuary of shared memories, a place where laughter, stories, and heartfelt moments come to life. The campground is your canvas, and together you paint it with the vibrant hues of friendship and camaraderie.

With the sun’s rays gently warming your faces, you embark on a leisurely walk into the heart of Jinju. The charming town greets you with open arms, its streets bustling with life and the tantalizing aroma of breakfast wafting from cozy cafes.

Your destination isn’t just a place to satisfy your hunger but a chance to immerse yourselves in the local culture. As you step into one of the quaint cafes, the air is filled with the comforting scent of freshly brewed coffee and the delightful aroma of pastries. The clinking of cups and the hum of conversations form a symphony that welcomes you into this charming establishment.

You take a seat, savoring each sip of your morning brew and indulging in a hearty breakfast, filling not just your stomachs but also your hearts with contentment.

Afterward, the excitement of the day ahead lures you to the roller skating rink, a place where fun and adventure await.

As you arrive at the roller skating rink, the anticipation of trying something entirely new courses through your veins. With each of you lacing up a pair of skates, the world transforms into a playground of possibilities.

The skates clasp onto your feet, a curious blend of excitement and nervousness bubbling within.

With wobbly legs and unsteady steps, you gingerly take your first strides onto the smooth rink.

The sensation of gliding, the wheels beneath your feet, is a revelation, and the laughter is infectious.

You’re no seasoned skater, but that only adds to the thrill of the experience. As you make your initial, somewhat unsteady strides on the roller rink, Jungkook’s effortless grace on skates stands out like a beacon of skill. He glides around the rink with the finesse of a seasoned skater, effortlessly twirling and weaving, as though he was born with wheels on his feet.

His laughter harmonizes with the rhythmic sound of his skates cutting through the smooth surface.

Your friends, too, navigate the rink with varying degrees of grace, and the atmosphere is a delightful mix of cheers and friendly teasing. A mischievous grin tugs at Jungkook’s lips as he watches your tentative movements.

“She’s like Bambi on ice!” he exclaims, punctuating his words with a light-hearted laugh.

His taunting, though playful, only fuels your determination to master the art of roller skating. Despite it being his first time on skates, Jungkook’s innate talent shines through. His adaptability to new challenges is nothing short of infuriating, yet you can’t help but admire his ability to conquer new terrain effortlessly.

As you teeter on your skates, struggling to maintain your balance, the vast expanse of the roller rink seems like an insurmountable challenge.

Each step feels precarious, and you clutch onto the side of the rink, desperately seeking stability. Your friends, caught up in their own laughter and playful antics, continue to circle the rink with ease, their mirth echoing in the air.

Amidst your unsteady attempts, Yoongi’s attentive gaze doesn’t go unnoticed.

He skates gracefully toward you, a silent guardian amidst the joyful chaos. His dark eyes, filled with a blend of concern and determination, meet yours as he approaches.

Without a word, Yoongi extends his hand, a lifeline amidst the rolling chaos. His fingers, calloused from his mechanic’s work yet gentle in their touch, brush against your palm as you accept his offer. The warmth of his grip sends a reassuring current through you, steadying your wobbly stance.

“Watch closely,” Yoongi’s voice resonates with a blend of confidence and warmth, inviting you to observe his movements with undivided attention. His skates seem to effortlessly glide across the rink, a testament to his innate grace and the mastery he holds over the roller skates.

With each fluid motion, he propels himself forward and then effortlessly returns to your side, bridging the gap between your uncertainties and his expertise.

As he demonstrates the art of skating, his actions become a mesmerizing performance, leaving no room for doubt that he’s a master of this craft.

His feet create a delicate dance with the smooth surface of the rink, a ballet of balance and control. With precision, he showcases the subtle nuances of turning and gliding, his movements both graceful and precise.

But what truly sets Yoongi apart is his unwavering patience.

As he returns to your side, he offers a reassuring smile, his dark eyes filled with encouragement. “Now, it’s your turn,” he says, his voice a gentle reminder that you’re not alone in this endeavor.

With meticulous care, he guides you through the basics of roller skating while holding your hand. He shows you how to shift your weight, find your center of gravity, and maintain balance.

Each step is accompanied by his steady guidance, making the process feel less daunting and more like a shared adventure. When it’s time to learn how to break, Yoongi’s guidance is equally invaluable.

He demonstrates the technique, emphasizing control and finesse. As he patiently assists you in mastering this essential skill, his presence becomes your anchor, turning uncertainty into a sense of accomplishment.

With every lap, you grow more confident, finding your rhythm in the mesmerizing dance of wheels and floor. The joy of discovering a new skill, even if it involves a fair share of stumbles, fills the air with an electrifying energy.

“I think I can try by myself,” you declare, a newfound determination glinting in your eyes as you release Yoongi’s hand. With a cautious yet adventurous spirit, you set out on your own, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and uncertainty.

As you take those initial strides, the rink beneath you seems to come alive. The sensation of movement, the cool breeze brushing against your cheeks, and the rhythmic sound of your skates against the smooth surface all merge into a thrilling symphony of sensations.

Your first solo swirl might be a modest one, but it feels like a monumental achievement.

A triumphant smile creeps across your face, a testament to your burgeoning confidence. The laughter and cheers of your friends fade into the background as you revel in this small victory, savoring the feeling of independence and accomplishment.

Each subsequent swirl becomes smoother, your body adapting to the unfamiliar motion with every passing second.

Your heart swells with pride as you skate around the rink, each movement carrying a newfound sense of freedom and exhilaration.

The fear and hesitation that once held you back have given way to a sense of empowerment and liberation. And as you continue to skate, you steal a quick glance at Yoongi. His face bears a mixture of admiration and encouragement, mirroring the pride that surges within you.

“That’s it, you’re a natural,” Yoongi smiles warmly, his eyes reflecting genuine admiration.

You can’t help but playfully roll your eyes at his comment, well aware that your roller skating skills are far from what most people would consider ‘natural’. But in this moment, you’ll gladly accept his compliment, not for the accuracy of the statement, but for the warmth and encouragement it carries.

The other guys burst into applause, their cheers echoing throughout the roller skating rink. Their skates create a playful symphony of clicks and clacks as they circle around you, celebrating your progress while throwing in a few teasing comments here and there.

Jungkook can’t resist a playful jab, calling out, “Look at her go! Our very own roller skating superstar.”

He effortlessly glides past, performing a twirl that leaves you in awe of his agility. Taehyung adds to the fun, mimicking your initial wobbles with exaggerated gestures, causing everyone to burst into laughter. “Don’t worry, we’ve all been there,” he reassures you with a wink, making you feel less alone in your roller skating journey.

Jimin joins in, executing a series of quick spins before skating backward in a mockingly dramatic fashion. “You’re doing great, ___! Just remember, it’s all about the style,” he advises with a grin.

The playful banter and camaraderie among your friends make this roller skating adventure even more memorable. Despite the initial challenges, you can’t help but smile and laugh along with them, grateful for the support and lightheartedness that defines your friendship.

You dedicate several joyful hours to roller skating, ensuring to take short breaks in between to catch your breath and share a few light-hearted moments with your friends.

Your own roller skating skills may still be a work in progress, but the smiles and laughter you share with Yoongi, Jimin, Jungkook, and Taehyung more than make up for any wobbles or missteps. They skate with effortless grace and confidence, performing dazzling moves that leave you in awe.

Jimin effortlessly glides past you, executing intricate spins and turns, as if he’s been roller skating all his life. His finesse on wheels is nothing short of impressive, and he even offers a few tips to help you improve your technique.

Jungkook showcases his agility, weaving in and out of the group with remarkable speed. His daring tricks and maneuvers earn cheers and applause from everyone around, including you.

Taehyung’s fluidity on roller skates is a sight to behold, and he effortlessly combines style and grace. His movements seem almost dance-like, adding an artistic touch to the experience.

After your roller skating adventure, you return to your campsite and decide to cap off the day with a cozy campfire by the van.

The warm crackling flames cast dancing shadows across your group, creating an intimate and inviting atmosphere.

Sitting in a circle, you all gather around the fire, sharing stories and laughter as you prepare and enjoy a delicious dinner together. The aroma of the food mixes with the scent of the burning wood, creating a mouthwatering ambiance that heightens your senses.

With full stomachs and hearts warmed by the camaraderie, you reach for some cold beers, their refreshing taste a perfect complement to the flickering firelight.

The clinking of bottles and jovial chatter fill the air, adding to the sense of togetherness that defines your friendcation.

Under the star-studded night sky, you share tales of your adventures, reminisce about funny moments, and dream about the destinations yet to be explored. The campfire becomes a hub of storytelling, where the bonds of friendship grow even stronger.

As the night wears on and the fire’s embers begin to fade, you all gradually retire to your sleeping arrangements, carrying with you the warmth of the campfire and the memories of yet another unforgettable day on your journey together.

Your anticipation builds as you embark on the scenic journey towards a picturesque campground nestled near the tranquil Pyeongsari Park, its beauty whispered by the stories of those who have ventured here before.

The road weaves through lush landscapes, revealing glimpses of nature’s grandeur as you draw nearer to your destination. The air is alive with the melodies of birdsong, and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze is your soundtrack. The promise of the crystal-clear lake, its waters mirroring the azure sky, fills you with a sense of serenity and excitement.

The tranquil hum of the van’s engine fills the air as you journey towards the campground. The serene surroundings lull you into a state of peaceful contemplation, the anticipation of a day filled with outdoor adventures bubbling beneath the surface.

Then, suddenly, the tranquility is shattered as Holly encounters an unexpected pothole.

Your heart leaps into your throat, and instinctively, you reach out for the handles, gripping them tightly for balance.

The van shudders and dips, sending a jolt of adrenaline through your veins.

Beside you, Yoongi emits a low groan of frustration, his skilled hands deftly maneuvering the van to the side of the road.

It’s a testament to his expertise as a driver that he’s able to bring the vehicle under control with such ease, his calm demeanor a reassuring presence in the midst of the unexpected turbulence. As the van comes to a halt by the roadside, you exchange glances with your friends, a mixture of relief and curiosity in their eyes.

“What just happened?”

You and the group in the back seat collectively exclaim, your voices tinged with a mixture of fear and bewilderment, the unexpected jolt still reverberating through your bodies.

“Damn it. Blew a tire,” Yoongi curses, his voice tinged with irritation. He pounds the steering wheel in frustration, but then exhales deeply, regaining his composure in an instant.

“Are you kidding me?” Taehyung exclaims nervously from the back, his voice tinged with anxiety.

“We’re in the middle of nowhere,” Jungkook adds, his gaze fixed on the seemingly endless stretch of road outside the window.

“Relax,” Yoongi says, his voice calm as he tries to reassure everyone. “I know a garage not far from here,” he adds, reaching for his phone and dialing a number (thankfully, there’s service here).

While Yoongi is on the phone, a heavy silence blankets the van. All of you sit in anticipation, allowing him the space to make the necessary arrangements. His voice carries a tone of determination as he orders a new tire, arranging for it to be delivered to your remote location in the middle of nowhere.

“They’ll be here in about an hour or so,” Yoongi informs your group, nonchalantly shrugging his shoulders. “Maybe we should get out and stretch our legs?” he suggests, aware that it’s not ideal to remain cooped up in the car while it’s parked on the side of the road. His proposal breaks the tension that had settled in the van.

As you all step out of the van, the minutes seem to drag on endlessly.

You wander around the parked van, stretching your legs and trying to make the most of the situation. While you and your friends wait anxiously for the new tire to arrive, Yoongi takes charge, using a jack to lift the van in the back.

With practiced ease, he untightens the bolts and removes the flat tire, expertly preparing for the replacement. The sense of anticipation lingers in the air as you watch him, all of you eager to hit the road again.

At long last, a car comes into view and pulls up beside your stranded van.

Two men step out, and there’s a warm exchange of greetings between them and Yoongi.

You can’t help but wonder if there’s some history between them, perhaps a mechanic’s camaraderie. The sight of the new tire being wheeled out and handed over to Yoongi fills you with a sense of relief and anticipation, knowing that you’ll soon be back on the road.

It’s a brief moment of connection with these strangers who’ve come to your rescue, and you can’t help but appreciate their help in this unexpected predicament.

With the flat tire loaded into their car, the two helpful strangers bid their farewells and drive off, leaving your group standing there on the side of the road. You watch their car disappear into the distance, grateful for their assistance, and ready to continue your adventure with a renewed sense of camaraderie among your friends.

As you stand there, watching Yoongi work with swift and precise movements, your attention is drawn to the focused determination in his eyes.

Beads of sweat glisten on his forehead under the sun’s warm embrace, and his muscles flex subtly as he tightens the bolts with the torque wrench. It’s as if you’re witnessing a master at his craft, his competence both captivating and alluring.

Unbeknownst to him, your thoughts wander into forbidden territory. You find yourself admiring his strong hands and the way he effortlessly handles the task at hand. It’s a moment of vulnerability, a secret desire that surfaces as you imagine those hands on you, tracing patterns of warmth and comfort.

You quickly snap yourself out of the daydream, cheeks flushing with embarrassment, and focus on the sight of the new tire perfectly in place.

But deep down, a lingering sense of longing remains.

“All done.”

Yoongi’s voice snaps you out of your momentary reverie, and you quickly refocus on the task at hand. The sound of the van gently settling back onto the ground punctuates his announcement. It’s as if the world around you has synchronized with his words, reminding you of the reality you share with your friends.

As you shift your gaze from Yoongi’s work to the now-complete task, a sense of admiration washes over you.

You appreciate not just his mechanical prowess but also the way he effortlessly handles life’s challenges. His competence and unwavering dedication have always been a part of what draws you to him.

With the van ready to roll again, you push aside your lingering thoughts and offer a genuine smile, grateful for Yoongi’s quick and effective resolution to the situation.

The collective sighs of relief fill the air, almost like a harmonious symphony of gratitude and anticipation. Each member of your group, relieved to be back on the road and one step closer to your destination.

As you all settle back into the van, there’s a renewed sense of camaraderie and adventure in the air. The shared experience of overcoming an unexpected obstacle has brought your group closer together, reinforcing the bonds of friendship that have been growing stronger with every passing day of your friendcation.

With the van’s engine revving back to life, you exchange smiles and knowing glances with your friends, a silent acknowledgment of the shared memories being created on this unforgettable journey.

As the wheels start turning once more, you can’t help but wonder what other surprises and adventures await you on the road ahead.

As you approach the campground, the earthy scents of the surrounding woods welcome you, and you catch sight of a meandering river reflecting the golden hues of the setting sun. The campground, bathed in the warm, fading light, beckons you like a hidden oasis.

As the sun dips below the horizon, you swiftly pitch the tent, arrange your campfire, and prepare a delightful dinner under the twilight sky. Savoring your meal, you all retire to your sleeping arrangements for the night.

With the break of dawn, a humble breakfast fuels your day, followed by a refreshing lake-side shower. Soon, you’re on your way to Jirisan National Park, immersing yourselves in its splendor, indulging in prepared snacks amid nature’s wonders.

As the day wears on, you venture towards the majestic Chiri-san mountain. With afternoon rays painting the sky, you secure a campsite, anticipation in the air. Tomorrow promises a thrilling ascent to the mountain’s zenith, igniting excitement among your group.

Dawn breaks, and you greet the day with renewed vigor, eager to conquer the breathtaking mountain ahead.

Your backpacks brim with sustenance for the ascent, and you slip into sturdy hiking gear, lacing up your trusty boots. The anticipation of reaching the summit fuels your determination.

As the group readies themselves, you embark on your mountain adventure. Side by side with Jungkook leading the way, your enthusiasm propels you forward. Behind you, Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi follow, forming a close-knit trail of camaraderie and anticipation.

The narrow trail winds its way through the rugged terrain, offering just enough space for two or three people to stride alongside each other.

As you trek through the rocky trail, a comfortable silence envelops your group.

The crunch of rocks and the gentle rustling of grass provide a soothing soundtrack to your hike. Suddenly, Jungkook glances over his shoulder, his eyes dancing with mischief as he turns to you.

“You know,” he says, his voice a conspiratorial whisper, “Yoongi hyung is totally checking out your ass.”

His mischievous smirk grows, and a subtle laugh escapes his lips, adding a playful undertone to his observation.

A warm blush creeps up your cheeks, a mixture of embarrassment and amusement dancing across your face. The sight of Jungkook’s laughter only deepens the hue of your blush, and the shared moment of teasing adds a playful, lighthearted energy to the hike.

“What’s so funny up there?” Taehyung’s voice breaks the silence from behind, and you take a moment to collect yourself before responding, your tone teasing yet good-humored.

“Nothing!” Your voice comes out a bit louder than you intended, and you feel a rush of embarrassment. Avoiding eye contact, you continue walking, hoping to change the subject.

Time seems to blur as you climb, and when the mountaintop finally greets you, exhaustion washes over you like a wave.

Collapsing onto the ground, you’re struck by an insatiable hunger. Your hands reach for your water bottle, desperate for some relief, and you gulp down the refreshing liquid.

Your companions do the same, their faces marked by exhaustion and satisfaction. With a grumbling stomach and the scent of adventure in the air, you eagerly unpack your carefully prepared feast. The spread includes delectable Kimbap sandwiches, spicy Gochujang pasta, and tangy Kimchi Bibimmyeon.

As you all dig into the hearty meal, the camaraderie of the moment and the breathtaking view from the mountain peak enhance the flavors, making every bite a savory delight.

As you all savor the flavors of your mountain-top meal, a sense of serenity washes over the group. Jimin, his eyes reflecting the tranquility of the moment, takes a deep breath and exhales, his voice carrying the weight of relief, “This is really nice. It’s just what I needed to destress.”

The collective nods of agreement ripple through your group, a silent acknowledgment that this journey has been a balm for all your souls.

“I’m genuinely going to miss this,” Jungkook laments with a playful pout, his enthusiasm almost causing him to inhale his food.

“Yeah, you know what? I think I’ll sleep in the tent tonight with Jungkook and Taehyung, just to make the most of our last days,” Jimin announces, playfully patting Jungkook on the shoulder, which causes him to choke on his food, leading to a fit of coughing.

Taehyung gazes at Jungkook with concern, gently patting his back. “I’m okay,” Jungkook manages to say between his coughs, and Taehyung quickly offers him a sip of water.

As the evening sun casts long shadows, you begin your descent from the mountain top, cherishing the last moments of this breathtaking adventure.

The trail is treacherous, and your feet struggle for purchase. Suddenly, you slip on loose rocks, landing hard on your ass.

Pain shoots through you, and you let out an involuntary cry. Jimin and Jungkook rush to your side, their concern evident.

“Are you hurt?” Yoongi’s penetrating gaze scans your body, causing a warm flush to spread across your cheeks.

“I-I’m okay, I think…” you groan through the pain.

“Fuck, you’re not okay.” Jimin’s face tightens with worry as he runs a hand through his slightly damp hair, contemplating what to do next.

You attempt to stand up, but the pain in your backside intensifies.

“Shit, my ass hurts,” you groan once more, attempting to massage the discomfort away.

“And DON’T crack any anal jokes right now!” you quip with a voice that’s both pained and playful, fully aware of the absurdity of the situation.

It must look comical.

Jungkook bursts into uncontrollable laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach. Taehyung isn’t far behind, struggling to contain his own laughter. Jimin chuckles, rolling his eyes at your remark. Yoongi watches in amazement, wondering how you manage to find humor even in such a situation.

“We’re almost at Holly. Can you manage the rest of the walk?” Jimin asks, concern evident in his eyes as he notices your discomfort.

You shake your head, exhaling a heavy sigh, your pain evident.

“I can carry her,” Jungkook offers, his laughter still lingering in his voice as he steps forward, ready to help despite the humor of the situation.

“No, I’ll do it,” Yoongi insists, his voice soft and reassuring as he steps closer, his touch comforting against your back.

“You don’t have to, Yoon,” you protest with a slight pout as you attempt to rise, but a sharp surge of pain shoots through your spine, causing you to wince and falter.

“You can’t even stand up. I’ll give you a piggyback ride. Come on,” he strides ahead, crouches down, and extends his hand for you to climb onto his back.

You reluctantly climb onto his warm, sturdy back, and sink your weight onto him.

Wrapping your arms around his neck, you nestle your head into the curve of his neck and rest your chin there. His neck feels soft, and you’re enveloped in the soothing scent of cinnamon and vanilla, likely from his body wash. His long, black hair gently brushes against your cheeks as he carries you down the mountain.

As the rest of the group follows you and Yoongi down, their voices become a distant hum in the background.

Your mind, however, is consumed by thoughts of Yoongi. His body radiates warmth, and you’re attuned to the rhythmic thud of his heartbeat against your chest pressed to his back. His hands securely cradle you beneath your ass, providing a reassuring and comfortable seat for your descent.

After nearly 45 minutes, you finally reach the van. Jungkook quickly finds a chair and pulls it out for you, and with gentle care, Yoongi lowers you into it.

You can’t help but groan once more as your sore ass meets the chair’s surface.

Taehyung anxiously glances around at the rest of the group. “Should we take her to see a doctor?” he suggests, concern etched across his face.

You dismiss Taehyung’s suggestion with a grimace of pain.

“Nah, Tae. I don’t think anything’s broken. It just feels sore, like it’s my muscles that’s hurting,” you explain, wincing as you settle back into the chair.

“Anything you need, just tell us and we’ll get it for you,” Yoongi says, sinking into the chair beside you with a tired sigh, his eyes filled with concern.

“Hey, I’m not that heavy!” you jest, playfully tapping his chest, a hint of flirtation in your voice, which makes Yoongi’s cheeks flush slightly.

“No, but you’re not exactly a feather,” he smirks, his eyes sparkling with humor, and then bursts into laughter, the sound echoing through the serene mountain surroundings.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’re calling me fat,” you grump playfully, a mischievous glint in your eye, and then break into laughter. Joking about your body feels comfortable because you’re confident in your own skin.

As you begin to rise, ready to inquire about any leftover food, Yoongi’s hand gently reaches over, resting on your arm, halting your movement. “Sit,” he commands with a firm, yet gentle tone. His intense gaze holds your attention, compelling you to obey and settle back into your seat.

Jimin arrives with a plate of food and a cold beer, presenting them to you with a warm smile.

You eagerly accept, ready to savor the flavors and unwind. Jungkook, ever the thoughtful one, has kindled a campfire, not for warmth on this balmy summer day but to add to the cozy ambiance of your gathering.

As you recline, indulging in the comfort of your friends’ attentive gestures, you savor the food and beer. Though you’ve only had two beers, their numbing effect gradually eases the discomfort in your aching muscles.

Feeling the weariness settling in, you let out a big yawn and stretch your arms and back.

“I’m exhausted,” you declare, preparing to retire for the night. “Goodnight, everyone.” With a wave, you rise from your chair and make your way into the van.

However, before stepping inside, you turn to Yoongi, who’s engrossed in his beer. In a drowsy tone, you ask, “Hey, Yoongi, is it alright if I sleep downstairs? You can take the top bunk then.”

Yoongi merely nods in agreement as you close the van door behind you.

Your eyelids grow heavy, and sleep claims you swiftly. It’s always easy to drift into slumber when the comforting backdrop is the sound of your friends’ voices and laughter.

Sometime after you’ve drifted into slumber, a faint creaking sound rouses you from your sleep.

You slowly open your eyes to find Yoongi standing there, not far from where you rest.

“I’m sorry I woke you up,” he murmurs, his voice carrying the weight of exhaustion. You respond softly, “It’s okay.”

“Are you alright?” he inquires, taking a seat beside you on the bed. His concern is evident in his eyes.

You instinctively move closer to him, craving the comfort of his warmth. “I’m just sore. My butt hurts,” you admit, your voice filled with exhaustion. “I wish I could massage it, maybe it would help,” you add, almost mumbling in your drowsiness.

“I could massage it for you?”

His offer hangs in the air, sparking a bolt of electricity within you, and you suddenly feel wide awake.

You’re left speechless, unsure of how to respond to his unexpected proposal. “Yoon, you really don’t have to,” you say with a casual shrug, attempting to downplay your discomfort, even though you secretly acknowledge that a massage would provide much-needed relief.

It’s just a bit odd, considering he’s your best friend – and someone you have a crush on, no less.

“You mentioned it might help, and honestly, it’s a shame you can’t walk properly just because you fell on your ass. If it were for some other reason, you might even feel proud of it,” he remarks casually.

You chuckle at his comment, but then it slowly sinks in, and you begin to wonder if he just insinuated what you think he did.

“Can I remove your duvet?” he asks softly, waiting for your consent. When you nod in agreement, he gently pulls the duvet down, letting it rest at your bare feet.

You’re relieved you’re wearing shorts; otherwise, this would be even more embarrassing.

The nervousness courses through your body like wildfire as you anticipate his touch. When his warm hands finally make contact with your ass cheeks, it feels like a surge of electricity, making your entire body tingle. His fingers tenderly grasp your cheeks, starting with a gentle massage.

You can’t help but acknowledge the soreness, but beneath it all, an overwhelming surge of desire courses through you. The level of intimacy, even with a close friend, feels like uncharted territory.

“Is the pressure alright?” he inquires, his voice weary yet steady, sending shivers down your spine.

You nod, your voice failing you in the presence of his incredible touch. The warmth of his hands sends waves of desire coursing through your body.

You feel the desire building in the pit of your stomach, a raging fire ignited by something as innocent as a massage.

You blame it on months of a dry spell, but deep down, you know it’s mainly because it’s Yoongi.

A rush of warmth engulfs your entire body, and you struggle to stifle the moans that threaten to escape your lips. Overwhelmed by a flood of arousal, you can’t help but notice the growing dampness between your thighs, praying silently that Yoongi remains oblivious to your heightened desire.

“Lift your ass for me,” he instructs nonchalantly.

Your voice quivers as you ask, “What did you say?” The air between you two crackles with tension, and you can’t deny the anticipation building within you.

“Lift your ass, then I can massage it better.”

A shiver runs down your spine at his words, and your heart races as desire courses through your veins.

You swallow hard, trying to find your voice as you reluctantly obey, lifting your ass hesitantly.

The anticipation is almost unbearable. Then he gently slaps one of your ass cheeks and a moan escapes your mouth.

Fuck.

Your mind races with a mix of desire, fear, and curiosity. You can’t deny the undeniable attraction between you and Yoongi, and in this moment, you’re willing to explore it further.

“Good girl,” the air thickens as Yoongi’s chuckle washes over you, sending shivers down your spine.

The vulnerability of your position heightens the intensity of the moment. Your cheeks burn as you realize just how intimate, sexual and daring this has become.

His skilled hands explore your inner thigh, where your ass cheek meets your thigh, sending electrifying waves of pleasure through your body. You struggle to stifle your moans, your hand muffling the sounds of your building arousal.

Every touch feels like a tantalizing ticklishness and ecstasy, making it harder to maintain control.

His skillful hands continue to work their magic on your sensitive flesh, expertly teasing and tantalizing your senses. Each stroke and caress sends shivers of pleasure down your spine. The contrast between his gentle touch and the underlying hint of roughness drives you wild, igniting a fiery desire within you.

“You like it?”

Your incoherent moans are all the answer he needs, and a mischievous smirk tugs at his lips.

He continues his skilled ministrations, taking you to new heights of ecstasy with each passing moment. The pleasure coursing through your body is almost overwhelming, and you find yourself losing control.

“I like all those pretty noises too.”

The sensation of his finger tracing down from the top of your ass to your clothed folds is electrifying, making you quiver with pleasure. His words send a jolt of heat through you, and you struggle to form a coherent response as your desire intensifies.

“You’re so wet already.”

Your thoughts become a tangled mess, and your body betrays you, craving his touch even more.

“Fuck!” Desire courses through you, overpowering your inhibitions.

You can’t hold back any longer, surrendering to the overwhelming sensations. Your exclamation is a raw expression of your primal need for him, and you grind your ass against his hands, seeking more of his intoxicating touch.

“I want you, Yoon,” your voice is a desperate plea, filled with raw desire. You arch your back, shaking your ass teasingly as you offer yourself to him. The intensity of your need is palpable, and your words hang in the air, heavy with longing.

His fingers trace the edges of your shorts, and you shiver in anticipation, “Can I take off your shorts?”

When you let out a breathy ‘yes’ he finally takes action, and it’s swift and electrifying.

Your shorts slide down, revealing your longing and your vulnerability. The intensity of his gaze, the way his fingers caress your lacy panties, sends a thrill through you. You feel exposed, vulnerable, yet incredibly aroused.

The delicate fabric barely covering your cheeks makes it possible for him to run his fingers down your exposed cheeks, and you can’t help but moan softly as his touch ignites your desire.

“Damn, you’ve soaked through your panties, babe.”

His words, combined with the sensation of your panties being pushed aside, make your body quiver with need. The way he calls you ‘babe’ sends a shiver down your spine, and when your glistening arousal is exposed to him, your desire intensifies.

You can’t help but arch your back and moan louder, craving more of his touch.

“Can I take them off?”

Your anticipation is building as he asks to remove your panties. You bite your lip in a mix of nervousness and excitement, then give a soft, breathless ‘yes’. With gentle but deliberate movements, he eases your panties down to your knees, then lifts you slightly to remove both your panties and shorts, tossing them aside.

The act is executed with a combination of care and desire, intensifying the sensual atmosphere between you two.

“Damn you look so good,” he murmurs, his lips parting slightly as he traces a finger from your clit to your wet folds, capturing a glistening bead of your arousal on his digit. His hunger and appreciation for your beauty are palpable.

“Can I taste you, babe?” he inquires, desire dripping from his voice like honey. His fervent longing is impossible to miss, making your anticipation rise as you eagerly await his next move.

“God, yes.”

You gasp breathlessly, your voice trembling with a potent mixture of desire and anticipation, granting him unspoken permission to fulfill your shared cravings.

He sensually swirls his tongue around his own finger, savoring the intimate essence of your desire. “You taste so good,” he purrs, smoldering with a potent mix of hunger and affection.

With each sultry, expert stroke of his tongue, pleasure courses through you like electricity.

You gasp, your back arching as your fingers dig into the sheets, overwhelmed by the sensations he’s unleashing upon you. The van seems to spin as he works his magic, and all that exists is the electrifying connection between you and him.

As his tongue explores your intimate depths, it’s as if you’ve entered a realm of ecstasy. His relentless, skilled movements leave you trembling and moaning, lost in a whirlwind of sensations.

Every flick and swirl sends shockwaves of pleasure radiating through your body, and you can’t help but arch your back, offering yourself more fully.

“Fuck, Yoongi, I’m close already,” you gasp, your voice laced with urgency and desire.

Waves of pleasure are crashing over you, threatening to pull you under. Your words hang in the air, a plea and declaration of your impending release, leaving the tension palpable as you teeter on the brink of ecstasy.

As Yoongi continues his tantalizing assault, his mouth working wonders on your sensitive areas, his skilled fingers descend to your throbbing clit. With deft, teasing strokes, he sends electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body.

Your breath hitches, and your back arches involuntarily, every nerve ending on high alert as you drown in the overwhelming sensation of his dual stimulation.

Ecstasy courses through you like a tidal wave as Yoongi’s expert ministrations send you spiraling into a powerful orgasm.

Your body quivers with pleasure, and your voice escapes in a fervent moan, his name an impassioned cry on your lips. The intensity of the moment washes over you, leaving you breathless and sated in its wake.

Overwhelmed by the intensity of your orgasm, you slowly crawl away from Yoongi’s tantalizing touch and collapse onto the bed, your body still tingling with aftershocks. The sensation lingers, leaving you breathless and flushed as you try to catch your trembling breath.

Yoongi sits back on his knees, his eyes never leaving your flushed and trembling form. He seductively licks his fingers clean of your essence, savoring the taste with a hunger that mirrors your own desires, a wicked smile playing at the corners of his lips.

“You are so pretty, babe,” he whispers with a mixture of affection and desire, his eyes locked onto yours. You let out a soft laugh, rolling onto your back so you can fully admire his flushed face, glistening with your essence and slick around his mouth.

“I–,” Your voice falters as a surge of emotions washes over you, rendering you momentarily speechless.

“I like you too, babe.”

Yoongi’s words hang in the air, and you find yourself both surprised and touched by his confession. With a soft smile, you reply, “I’ve felt the same way, Yoongi, for longer than I can remember.”

His gentle touch on your arm reassures you that this moment is real and filled with genuine affection.

As you beckon him closer, he leans down, and your lips meet in a passionate and heated kiss. The intensity of your lust deepens, expressing the desires and emotions that have been hidden for so long.

In the dimly lit van, your voices barely above a whisper, you express your longing for his touch, “It’s not that I don’t want you, Yoon, I’m just so damn tired. Will you cuddle with me?” you ask him pleadingly and you are thankful that he says yes.

The desire is there, but the exhaustion has taken its toll. Yoongi’s agreement to cuddle becomes a lifeline in the darkness, and even though you can feel his erection, you both seek solace in each other’s arms, sharing an unspoken understanding of the moment��s limitations.

As the soft morning light filters into the van, you find yourself nestled in the warmth of Yoongi’s embrace. His tender kiss on your temple greets you, and in that moment, the world outside seems to fade away.

“Morning, pretty,” he murmurs, his affectionate voice like a soothing melody. You respond with a gentle chuckle, feeling grateful for the serenity of the morning.

Being the early birds has its perks; you and Yoongi share a quiet moment, shielded from the prying eyes of the others.

It’s a secret, an intimacy between the two of you, and there’s a thrilling allure to keeping it hidden.

The morning hush adds to the mystique of the moment, as if the world is conspiring to let you savor this precious time alone.

Yoongi whips up a breakfast feast, skillfully crafting a meal that not only nourishes your body but warms your heart. The aroma of sizzling food fills the air. His culinary talents shine as he presents a delicious spread, a testament to his care and consideration for all of you.

As the rays of dawn kiss the campsite, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung emerge from their slumber, their youthful energy replenished with the new day. With contented smiles and sleepy greetings, they join the gathering, completing the close-knit camaraderie that makes your mornings together so special.

“Already whipped up breakfast? Thanks, Yoongi,” Jungkook remarks, his eyes lighting up as he indulges in a piece of the sizzling Yachaejeon from the campfire. His mouth full but his heart fuller, he can’t help but express his satisfaction with a beaming smile.

Jimin gazes at you, noticing your proximity to Yoongi.

There’s a faint inkling of something, a connection perhaps, but he’s not entirely certain. He decides to keep his observations to himself for now, choosing to watch and learn more before drawing any conclusions.

“Are you all ready to head back home today?” You inquire with a tinge of melancholy in your voice, savoring the delicious pancakes Yoongi prepared for breakfast.

Jimin’s response is tinged with reluctance and a touch of grumpiness as he sighs, “No, unfortunately. We’re out of vacation days.”

As breakfast concludes, you all work together efficiently, swiftly dismantling the tent and organizing your belongings back into the van.

The drive to Daegu is bittersweet, a mix of laughter and nostalgia filling the van as you approach the train station. Your heart heavy with the impending farewells, you make sure the journey is filled with cherished memories, savoring each moment before you reach your destination.

As you arrive in Daegu, the weight of impending goodbyes settles upon you like an anchor, tugging at your hearts.

The camaraderie and laughter you’ve shared over the past weeks have created a tapestry of unforgettable memories. With a heavy sigh, you begin the inevitable parting of ways, starting with Taehyung. He, with his own journey ahead wanting to visit his parent’s farm, heads towards the bus stop to catch his ride, and you bid him farewell with warm hugs, cherishing the bond that brought you all together.

The farewells continue, and your embrace with Jungkook is filled with shared memories and unspoken sentiments. He lifts you off your feet, symbolizing the weight of parting.

Then, as you hug Jimin, his whisper in your ear stirs a rush of emotions, “Something happened with Yoongi, didn’t it?”

His knowing words about what transpired between you and Yoongi make your heart race, “Thought so.”

With a teasing wink, he hints at the passion that unfolded, causing your cheeks to blaze even brighter, “I heard noises, other than you moaning.”

As Jungkook and Jimin bid farewell to Yoongi, the air is charged with secrets and the bittersweet taste of parting.

“Hope you have a good time alone for the next month before Joonie, Hobi and Jin join you.”

Jimin’s teasing remark lingers in the air, a reminder of the impending month of solitude before the arrival of Joonie, Hobi, and Jin. His mischievous tone hints at the adventures and challenges that lie ahead. As he and Jungkook disappear into the train station, the weight of anticipation and uncertainty settles in your chest, making you wonder what the future holds.

→ Author’s note(2): Thank you so much for reading! 🌸 I appreciate every like, comment and reblog, and please don’t be afraid to let me know what you think; your kind words makes me extremely happy 💜 → Taglist: @idkjustlovingbts @constancelayon @wobblewobble822 @ktownshizzle @moonchild1 @ultimatefangirl0 @baechugff @jimintaemin @parapiop7 @fckkntired @iluvfndms @citypop-princess @tarahardcore @bergandysam @massivelyfullenthusiast *strikethrough means tumblr isn't letting me tag you :(

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days-until-burnout · 4 months ago

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boat boys but Joel is a politician and ethos an assassin or something shady

ur writing is really immersive!

okay. so. request backlog time wooo also. i... well. i have a problem called 'i know which mood/atmosphere you were hoping for, unfortunately i can only offer the opposite' and i think it's a little hilarious xD like the last ask was silly, and then i put a little angsty feelings. and now serious idea gets turned silly i hope you enjoy it either way! _____

📧 Day 34 -

Characters - Etho+Joel Words - 919 Time - 30 mins Content - Alternative Universe

Etho was the assassin. He even had that typical sad story that would lead someone to become like him, a killer, blood colored hands every night. Orphan, unwanted, barely scraping by in the streets, never having anywhere to call home. Like the others like him, he knew his stuff. The right people find to get ahead, the type of jobs that would put food on the table, and he absolutely knew the wrong crowd. And he was good at this whole assassin thing, had a dark and deep enough river of blood behind him that he would never escape this reality, maybe in another life he would, but not in this one.

Etho was the assassin, the one with the weapon, the one tasked to kill a high ranking member of this corrupt society. He still tiptoed which side of society he belonged to; because he was technically doing something good by killing the corrupt people, but he was also killing non-corrupt people. And he was not necessarily morally gray either, seeing as, well, he killed people for a living. Not something he could afford to ponder much, the people like him could not afford to be distracted.

Again, Etho was the assassin. The one tasked to kill some official in this party; well, in the party on the other side of the house. Instead, he found himself struggling against his restraints, the ties digging into his wrists, keeping them flat on the arms of the chair.

If anything, the roles should have been reversed.

“Don’t make me ask again,” the guy spoke, his shaky tone almost neutralizing all the worry of his current situation, still bad but could definitely be worse, “who are you? And what are you doing here? Who sent you?”

Etho squinted at him, noticing the seams coming undone. His captor seemed to be the type to lose it under pressure, or maybe he was enamored.

He had been told humor was not a good coping mechanism.

“Fi-fine then! I’ll– I will call the guards… Yeah! See what they will do to you!” The guy boasted, forcing a smile into his lips as he puffed his chest. Etho noticed the intricate designs of his clothes, eyes falling on the emblem on his chest. It was not the one from this house, so this guy must have been a random guest at the right place at the wrong time. How annoying for Etho. “They will send you to the dungeons… and they will torture you. Badly! And you will regret not sticking with me– No. I… Not that…”

Alright. Maybe enamored was not too far off.

Etho did his best to put on a flirty attitude, even if he was cringing mentally. He needed to prepare for this, but he supposed this was a desperate situation so whatever. “Oh? You want me all to yourself? Is that what I’m hearing?”

The guy startled, stopping his pacing, head snapping to him. There was a flash of surprise in his face, then utter disgust. “Gross. Gross. Don’t ever say something so disgusting ever again.”

Okay. Maybe Etho was the fool. But he could play with this.

The softness was luckily replaced, a sharp snarkiness overtaking him which felt a little more fine, “Something wrong with my interests?”

The guy blinked, the disgust drained from his face, once again replaced, this time, by an apologetic. “No, no, no, I didn’t mean it like that. I– I don’t care what– your preference, likes or whatever is in your pants! I have nothing against that! Two guys shacking up, or whatever! People– Two people. Person. Persons? Look, I don’t care, alright? You hear me?!”

If anything, at this rate, Etho might be the one doing the falling. The guy was flustered to hell and back, stammering and tripping over his own words, caught in a swing of confidence and fear. By all means, entertaining. And he could admit, the guy was kinda cute flustered.

“Joel.”

“Hm?”

The guy breathed in and out, looking around the empty room nervously, then spoke quietly, “Joel. My name is Joel.”

“And why are you telling me this?”

Joel picked at the cuffs of his sleeves, now refusing to look at him. An interesting turn of events, and he found that his place on the chair was oddly comfortable. However, he did not even want to begin to think about how much this chair cost. More than his life, probably.

“I… You… You are an assassin, right?”

Etho blinked, eyes wide in surprise though in hindsight, it was a little obvious. Assassin or spy, up to no good either way. So he nodded.

Joel looked back to the locked door, then back at him, finding some courage to look him in the eyes. They were pretty shades of brown with a gloss of green or gold, he could not really tell in the low light. “Then… Then I know who you are here for… It’s… It’s not me, right?”

He should lie, scare him, but he found himself being honest. Not because he trusted Joel, not especially with his crazy high strength, but something compelled him to ‘trust’ him. Etho shook his head.

“Okay… I… Okay, I… um, I will free you… so you can… y’know, go do your job or whatever, uh, just… don’t… kill me?”

Etho was an assassin, someone who did not leave any witnesses but Joel, and eventually he left the house with bloodied hands and an odd feeling in his chest.

_____

so. first off. i might end up using '+' for the ambiguous/up to interpretation relationship because /& doesn't look that good to me. and on that vein, i suppose it'd also apply to qpr though i'll probably do QPR Character, Character. dunno. i have not thought that far ahead

#hermitshipping #trafficshipping #smalletho #boat boys #smallishbeans #ethoslab #day 34

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sitp-recs · 1 year ago

Note

Hi I looooooooooove your rec lists you have helped me through SO much by making it available to read any kind of fic I need at that time!!

I was hoping for any recommendations for angsty & ptsd drarry fics with nightmares and anxiety/ panic attacks. But Draco and Harry help eachother through it and use sex/BDSM as a coping mechanism / to help each other heal. My all time favourite is Scenes of Surrender by Rasborealis, but I've never found anything like it.

Hi there friend, so happy to know you enjoy the recs! Scenes of Surrender is fantastic and while I don’t read a lot of BDSM in general, I do love me some fics exploring mental health issues and sex as a coping mechanism. I hope you enjoy these, btw I haven’t read Freedom to be but from what I’ve heard it might be a good fit :)

Begin As You Mean To Go On by @doubleappled (E, 2.8k)

The first time, it was an accident. The second time, Harry’s going to have to ask.

A Pain of Our Choosing by @lqtraintracks (E, 6k)

It’s 8th year and everyone’s still a bit messed up. Harry and Draco fall into being messed up together.

Wicked Game by Cassiopeias_shadow (E, 20k)

Harry and Draco fall into a spring that allows them to enter into each other’s dreams - but Harry doesn’t quite understand what’s happening, not at first. Why does he keep seeing Draco having kinky sex with a dream version of Harry? And furthermore, why does he like it?

Inside Your Mind by @lazywonderlvnd (E, 36k)

Goyle's taken it upon himself to act as Malfoy's personal, one-man guard and Harry can't help but feel like it's only making the bullying worse.

He Who Must Not Be Normal by lettered (E, 41k)

Potter has fame and fortune and posh clothes and all he wants is a simple life. Draco has a flat and a cat and a steady job and all he wants is a complicated life. Which makes you think this story has something exciting like body-swapping, but it doesn’t.

The Waiting by @oknowkiss and @babooshkart (E, 43k)

It’s been almost ten years since Draco Malfoy disappeared during a routine Curse Breaker training exercise. Harry, his partner in more ways than one, is determined to figure out why. As the past resurfaces and the present fades into confusion, Harry discovers the only thing more unreliable than memory is love.

What Shall Not Be Unearthed by @iero0 (E, 49k)

At the northernmost point of Shetland, surrounded by pointed cliffs, towers the Ootsta Lighthouse on a small isle in the middle of the open sea. Little does Harry know that he's not the only new lighthouse keeper. Draco Malfoy is as obnoxious as he always was, with his posh tone of voice and his luxury yacht jumpers. Harry tries his best to avoid the git—who knows what he's up to anyway?

Chocolate and Pastry by agentmoppet, anemonen (E, 50k)

When Pansy bets Draco that there is no chance he and Harry could carry out a genuine romantic relationship, he and Harry form a plan. But as their fake relationship progresses, Draco sees a side of Harry he never expected. Harry is struggling with something, pushing it far down inside him where he doesn't have to acknowledge its existence.

I Am Not Who I Became by mab_di (E, 93k)

Draco left England after the trials and has travelled the world meeting wizards and Muggles from different cultures and with vastly different relationships to magic, each other, and the natural world. Now he's a fisherman in Finland on commercial vessels. Harry has been struggling since the war and has become a recluse while trying to write his autobiography.

#asks #Drarry reclist #ptsd #sex as a coping mechanism

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coffeeandjournaling · 10 months ago

Text

Mini Reviews II

I don’t know what it is about space, but it makes me feel things. Have a handful of small and short games in space with a dash of emotional investment.

Low Battery by Batts

emotionally devastating :)

who doesn’t wanna be a little robot

play if you admire the attempt to create even under dire circumstances

One thing I love about solo experiences is that they really manage to get you into the head of other characters without any meddling from outside. This is especially true when mechanics and story/premise work together to get you there. Low Battery balances your character’s energy (Battery) and feelings (Melancholy, both signified by a D20 respectively) against the time that passes. With what little time you have left, can you find inspiration to create something? I was struggling with the D20s and watching the time and trying to decide on a move and – well, the robot is struggling, isn’t it? Struggling to stay conscious, to take in as much as it can for the time it has left in this universe and maybe, just maybe leaving something behind, something that proves it was here and tried to make a connection to the world around it. For me, time ran out too soon �� but I still wrote a little poem about it:

Every time We create something It’s as if we chip off a tiny piece Of the universe As we see it To carry around in our pocket.

You, an Astronaut by Hannah Shaffer and Evan Rowland

short, no prep required

an interactive narrative

more reflective than focused on a goal

This is a very short, narrative experience that I recommend reading with some suitable background music. Personally, this is right up my alley: you get a few choices to “sway” the narrative to your liking, which usually tells you something about yourself in the end. You are put into the shoes of an astronaut waking from their cryo-stasis due to their ship having veered off course and sending out a distress call. While you wait for an answer, you ruminate on your dreams and the memories connected to them. Similar to Low Battery, it sports a gorgeous layout that combines NASA images with the narrative, all put into a simple, retro-style mock-up of a spaceship UI. I don’t want to give away too much – it really is short. But I do feel that the themes of queerness and belonging come through strongly. Games like these either fit you like a glove or fall flat for you. For some reason, I was reminded of the Lifeline games, which I love dearly.

Letters to Europa by Lola Johnson

an exercise in self-reflection

a hopeful look into the future

relaxing and motivating

Epistolary games have their own special charm, perhaps because keeping in contact even when we’re far apart is something we’ve done forever as humans – this need to stay connected to someone we care about, no matter the odds. In the case of Letters to Europa, you write a message to a loved one on Europa, one of Jupiter’s moons. Messages take about a year to arrive, and thus are sent in packages all at once. After you’ve finished your package, you switch over to the other character, writing back to the person on Earth. This, to me, felt like a conversation with myself, first putting down my thoughts about the given prompt, then trying to get some distance and reflect on it through a positive lens. I took the prompts quite literally and went with how my last year has gone – kind of a mixed bag. The prompts for the Earthling seem a little more sombre, more morose. Just as the other character has left Earth, though, embodying them makes you leave that behind (and that’s what the game says, too, ‘give yourself permission to let […] go’). It settles you in a more optimistic mood, no matter how depressing your Earthling’s messages might have been. This is a tiny game that relies heavily on how willing you are to engage with it – but if you can, in whatever medium you choose, I think it’s quite effective.

#indie ttrpg #solo rpg #review #one page #short #sci-fi #beginner friendly #epistolary #dice

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adelle-ein · 1 year ago

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lace's oc2path review

Disclaimer: I am deeply critical of this game and of Octopath 1, and I very much loathe COTC's overly edgy grimdark plot, so there will be a lot of negativity in this post. Don't like don't read!!!111 Also explicit spoilers for everything duh, and game typical content warnings.

Octopath and I have a…complicated relationship. It was my first Switch game. I had fond memories of it, even if it was never my favorite, I found it very hard, I really only cared about Primrose and Cyrus as characters, and I never even got all the secret jobs, let alone beat Galdera. Then the mobile game COTC came along, bringing with it a clusterfuck of horrific misogyny, racism, and frankly terrible grimdark story writing, severely souring my relationship with the franchise. I tried to replay it in 2022 and couldn’t even get to a chapter 2 — the grind was awful, the world was bland, the stories were just insufferably boring at best and misogynistic at worst. The lack of relationships or even acknowledgement between the characters made the whole thing feel stilted. Therion works alone, don’t mind the seven other people walking behind him! Now let’s explain the ways all the stories connect in a diary info dump locked behind a boss rush!

Octopath 1 has staggering design flaws and, as more and more JRPGS come to the Switch, those flaws become strikingly pronounced. Party dynamics are important to me, and without them, most of 1’s cast remained stubbornly boring. The game was hard, but not fun enough for me to want to grind OR learn advanced strats. Every chapter of every story follows the same basic plot beats and the layout of the world is boring and predictable, with even the scenery getting old eventually.

So I had mixed feelings when Octopath 2 was announced, especially when I saw they hadn't changed a single one of the main 8 classes and that the Crossed Paths would only be between four duos of characters. Still, the game went on sale for $40 in mid-April. Split the price with a sibling and here we are.

For starters: The graphics in this game are fantastic. I’m still not in love with HD-2D, mostly because of the lack of expressiveness in the tiny character pixels. Watching them flop over dead in a pile of blood in Triangle Strategy was only ever hilarious, and most emotional scenes fall flat. Strangely, Asano continues insisting on using this style for really drama-heavy, emotional games. Luckily, they’ve made some strides forward with OT2. The bigger human sprites are drastically more dynamic and expressive, move more fluidly than ever before, and have ample opportunity to demonstrate both emotion and personality. Everyone’s unique walk cycles and Bewildering Grace dances really bring character to the game. We can get a clearer look at job outfits and have animations for all kinds of things like dancing and character interactions. And HD-2D, as always, continues to shine in the backgrounds, special effects, and enemy sprites. The game is very pretty, and while I still don’t think HD-2D is the best choice for any character-driven game, the sprites don’t feel nearly as rough and awkward as they do in their predecessors. I hope Team Asano retains this style in future HD-2D installments, especially interpersonal ones.

The world is huge, sprawling, and genuinely FUN to explore this time, with various nooks and crannies to dig into. The day/night cycle and added path actions really add a lot of fun and variety to gameplay. The world not being a perfect circle moving outwards really makes things more exciting and less tedious, and the towns, cities, and dungeons had so much variety. I genuinely had fun on the journey this time, while in 1 i was just dragging myself from town to town. The bonus bosses, latent powers, hidden classes, sidequests, and various new game mechanics all felt like upgrades from the first game to me.

The music is banging, no criticisms here. I’ve gotten the impression before that Revo and Nishiki have been influenced by and learning from each other and I think this really shows it. Super fun, loved that we have more theme variants now. VA work was solid, with some very fun moments but nothing I was super amazed by. That's not a problem, though, it's really all I ask for in a game. Loved the added voice lines, the unique voice lines for certain bosses (I don't wanna fight no doggy-dog…), and how the characters interact with each other in battle as the game proceeds.

I’ll continue with my thoughts on the eight characters/stories one by one and then give some overall opinions on the “main plot” and game itself.

Ochette:

The constant food talk gets old fast. Seriously, every conversation this girl has ends up being about food or similar. I also think her voice acting may have been mixed oddly, sometimes it's quiet and sometimes at too high a volume, she ends up sounding REALLY loud and grating a lot of the time. Overall, she really doesn't feel as fleshed out as every other character, and it's a shame. That being said, she does have some very fun travel banters and brings a fun "kid of the group" energy, it's just…she's twenty goddamn years old.

Story-wise, had a lot of potential but constant food talk and the weird fantasy racism (why do they all speak broken English) were huge drags. I thought the stuff with the unchosen starter was a really good idea, but there just wasn't enough time lent to it, and overall the first and last chapters felt completely disconnected from the middle ones. Oh well.

Castti:

No mercy, only pain. She's just a great character who ended up with so much depth and felt like a twist on the kindly, maternal healer. "Do harm when necessary to save lives" is a great archetype for doctor characters and Castti plays the role fantastically. She has been through so much and still chooses to be gentle when she can, but if she has to she'll bring the axe down. She has a talent for making do. She has so many fantastic scenes and lines and flips the "mom friend" character around on its head. I really love her, she's great, she's up there with Primrose for me forever.

Her story was also my favorite, and her boss the toughest to beat by a comfortable margin (what worked in the end was no strategy just hikari, throne, and their knives). Sure, some beats are always predictable in Octopathland, but chapter 3 was beautifully done, and the use of game mechanics and the interface to play with the effects of Castti's amnesia were really enjoyable. Nothing groundbreaking, but a strong and solid story that felt emotional and meaningful as well as unique and independent from the stuff all three games have done and rehashed. Castti herself is of course a huge part of that, but this is one of the rare Octopath stories that didn't feel like it was being fully carried by the strength of the MC.

Throne:

Throne herself, I adore. She's fun, she's determined, she's witty, she's like Primrose in some ways but firmly different in others. She doesn't want to kill, but it's all she knows. She has some fantastic travel banters. I laughed out loud at her first "Bravo, Temenos." And the little "tada…" when she uses Disguise. She's great, she has endless potential, and boy does she have fun path actions.

Warning for discussion of incest, abuse, and rape in the following paragraph :(

Unfortunately, her story is the classic edgy Octopath misogyny fest. What was with that random sex slave and what the hell happened to her??? We don't care, she only exists to show that Bad Guys Evil and that Throne Can't Be A Hero Because She Is Tainted. Everyone wants to rape Throne and that is made way too clear. Some of those people are her fucking brothers, because why the fuck not. And the ending with the "but was it worth it?" tone was phenomenally stupid. Octopath asking the quintessential question: is it okay to escape slavery even if you have to kill your slavers? What if your slavers love you (even though they keep you in a collar and whip you and offer you up as a rape victim and force you to kill people?) What if your slavers are your parents or siblings? Also not loving any of the Marietta story, anything that involves "she killed our baby" is going to set my hair on end in this day and age and I just did not like the way any of that was portrayed and handled. Even if Claude didn't rape Marietta, it's clear he raped several of the other mothers including a few of the ones we meet, and they're all forcibly separated from their babies and left to die — it's just too much. It's too disgusting. The huge conspiracy itself fell flat due to the general creep factor and tried way too hard to be edgy. Throne cannot be happy within her story for even a second and it's way overdone. I'm sick, absolutely sick, of this type of story and COTC trying to play with "but she loves her abuser" stuff and doing a frankly disgusting and often fetishizing job. Overall, it felt like a COTC plotline, and that is very much a bad thing for me! I'm glad that the postgame sidequest cleared up the Mira plotline and actually had some "breaking the cycle" themes, but the fact that we've just apparently left the residents of Lostseed to suffer and die instead of even attempting to bring them to the Garden or somewhere they can get help is pretty gross.

But again, I adore Throne herself. Get her out of this game. Put her in Animal Crossing or something.

Osvald:

And now we flip around! Talk about pleasant surprises! I was not expecting to like him or his story at all, it felt so Octopath edgy and woman-in-fridges-y. And to an extent, it is, but the game is actually self-aware of this and gently pokes fun at it to a degree that makes it more bearable. Osvald is an Edgy Man and the other travelers can and will be confused by it. That's really fun. Being able to save Elena flips everything about the story on its head in a good way, and The Answer being The Power Of Love is both so funny and so sweet and fitting. Just a genuinely heartfelt and optimistic story in the end despite where it begins, I really liked it despite another dead wife on the pile. The antithesis to Throne's story.

My main complaint is that the story pacing ends up really off due to two out of five chapters being at the very start and about the prison escape. I really think he could have benefited from another chapter between his 3 and 4. I wish the ending was more emotionally satisfying, but it does feel in character and leave on a hopeful note. Would have enjoyed, if not a reunion scene between him and Elena, something more significant about them and their relationship than the tiny nod we got at the end. All that being said, liked both him and his story a lot!

Partitio:

He really is very funny. Those voice lines are a hoot, every Scent of Commerce is just ridiculous, and his determination to stop That Devil Called Poverty by having a polite meeting with the CEO of capitalism and giving him some $$$ is just absurd. As a character, I can’t say I find him as interesting as Castti, Throne, or Osvald, but he’s entertaining if nothing else, and his first chapter pacing is creative. He was my MC and spent tons of time running Arcanist Sidestepper or Latent Power Catapult Inventor, so of course I got pretty attached. Yeehaw let's do it catapult go-go-go

But let’s be real here. Any story about a merchant “helping the poor” by doing more capitalism is going to be kind of a mess. It wasn’t a harmful mess, but it felt like the story was deliberately skirting around making any meaningful commentary. None of this is surprising, but I spent a lot of chapter 4 rolling my eyes. Roque illegally modifying a contract after signature on multiple occasions is just completely brushed aside, and Partitio happily SIGNS a contract with him KNOWING Roque has a habit of violating and editing them. It’s all just very…dumb. Seize the means of production Partitio! Don’t just give The Man eighty billion leaves! Also, Roque apparently KEEPS all that money in the postgame even though he’s allegedly reformed, soooooo (I know he's using it on the railroads but like….Yeah)

But yeah, while it was a silly story, it wasn’t much else. He's a fun guy though. I wonder if octopath 3 will bring us our first edgy merchant MC.

Agnea:

She’s sweet and fun. I don’t really feel like I have a lot to say about her, which isn’t a negative? I enjoy her theme, I love all her dance animations, I think her constantly-slipping accent is pretty funny (I’m genuinely not sure if the premise is that Agnea hides her accent and occasionally slips into it by mistake, or if the VA keeps forgetting that Agnea is supposed to sound Southern and only remembers when Agnea says “oh my stars” or something lol. It’s funny though.) But like I said, I enjoy her, she’s not as grating as some of the other “goodhearted, happy go lucky” characters from 1.

Similarly, while I don’t have much to say about her story, that’s not to say I disliked it. I thought it was sweet. Dolcinea and her gf are some of my favorite NPCs in the game, the final battle kicked my ass in a fun way, and most of all I love how ¾ of Agnea’s bosses are just her going “I want to speak to the manager!!” and it actually working. I liked it a LOT better than tressa’s, which it’s constantly compared to, since it felt like an actual coherent story. She’s a star!

Temenos:

Fandom made me dislike Temenos before I set foot in the Crestlands. In those early days especially, every woman in this game was ignored in favor of an AVALANCHE of fanart of him and crick. People say weird shit about Temenos being a twink, some of which is frankly homophobic and/or creepy. I pretty strongly disliked his predecessor Fandom Favorite Man, Therion. Man had a lot riding against him. All that being said, once I got to know him I liked Temenos just fine! He's a priest who can't remember the Lord's Prayer and calls the scripture boring at every given opportunity. Also enjoys beating the shit out of people for information and can barely be contained by those around him. It's a fun character type.

His story, though, is honestly just blah. I guessed the big murderer about as soon as they appeared on screen, and by the time I finished the story I was pretty confident I knew who was manipulating them too…and I was right. As funny as it is that Temenos can use his "special powers" to just, like, see something lying on the floor, the investigation/mystery is really lacking and dull, which is disappointing. Particularly since his story is the "main" one that reveals the ultimate final boss, and the only one that gets a full follow-up cutscene in the extra chapters — it ended up just being a big pile of text dumping, which is not a fun way to do a mystery/whodunit!

Also Crick is boring.

Hikari:

Hikari is Just Fine. He's sometimes fun, largely unremarkable, just another member of the crowd. The same is pretty much true of his story as well — it's just Fine. Has a pretty hilarious mom-fridging as horses whinny loudly in the background, which I think was iconic. Dunban levels of "bad at making friends" (and while it's not "Therion works alone" levels of stupid by any means, does feel a little awkward that he keeps talking about needing his Allies and True Friends while seven people he camps with are standing right there…) I really just don't have a lot to say about him or his story, which isn't a bad thing! It was fine, he's fine. My only real complaint is that I don't love that his overcoming his Evil Blood was tied to him also having Good Blood on his mother's side — that detail seems irrelevant to everything, and I would have preferred his overcoming the Shadow and taking back his Hidden Power just be framed as him having willpower and a good, kind heart. But I am nitpicking here, since I think that was the intention — just wish blood hadn't been brought into it, y'know? Anyway yeah Hikari's fine.

Together Now:

The Crossed Paths are SO short (other than waiting for that insanely long lute performance to be over) and that's a shame. I wish there were more of them, between more characters, that they were longer…I hope any future Octopath games play with these concepts. Overall, I mean, it's a huge meaty game and it's not that I wanted to be playing it longer, I was satisfied by the length. I just really would have appreciated more character interaction. I'm glad that you can view the travel banters freely and easily from the menus now, and that there are more of them. But I do wish that the characters emoted during them instead of just standing there staring blankly at each other. Huge improvement over one, just not quite there yet!

I will say the Extra Chapters/final boss were also huge improvement over 1's, with actual cutscenes, some character interaction, more consistent foreshadowing, and finally, a boss with no boss rush leadup whose level of challenge is more "difficult but doable" than "haha fuck you." My hopes for this game had been that they would lower the final boss difficulty and make a bigger, harder bonus boss for hardcore players to enjoy, and I'm really happy that they did so! I beat Vide :)

That being said, most of the Extra Chapter reveals were entirely contained in heaps of diary entries again. You guys expect me to remember who Tanzy was or care?? Other than the Arcanette cutscene/battle, things never got that emotional or exciting. A few travel banters tried to fill in the blanks, but there just wasn't enough emotion or stakes put into the scenes. That being said, I enjoyed the Vide battle and it was the perfect difficulty level for me, and I enjoyed the ending and epilogue a lot! It just didn't quite do everything I want from a JRPG ending (which…has been my tune with almost every newly released JRPG I've played in the last couple years :( we need better endings in these things.)

Will also say that the Osterra nods don't really make sense, but I'm personally subscribing to Osterra and Solistia straight up being parallel worlds (I suspect COTC will be confirming this one way or another in the JP version shortly, but like, eh).

Overall, it was a good game, I liked it, it's hands down my favorite Octopath and probably my second favorite Asano game after BD2. Despite my complaints, wishes things had diverged further from the original game, and generally feeling like this series is a bit overrated in JRPG circles, Oct2path is solid, fun, and a big upgrade from its predecessors. Stan Castti

#lace reviews #txt #octopath traveler spoilers #octopath traveler 2 spoilers #octopath 2 spoilers #octopath traveler ii spoilers

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kiri-cuts · 2 years ago

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An adorable Nietzsche death star in “The Super Mario Bros. Movie”

For a few months back in the thick isolating tar of 2020, I sat in my damp one-bedroom flat and dramatically envisioned myself as Artex, the ethereal equine who sinks into the Swamp of Sadness in “The Neverending Story.” “Blub, blub,” I’d say to the quiet company of mold in the corners of the walls. “Down I go.”

I’d dream about my head sinking promptly into the muck, one feature at a time. My round chin and miserable little downturned mouth checking themselves in at the one-star beach resort of death called Depression, my flared nostrils padding themselves closed with soil, my eyes nestling into the sweet slumber of swampytime. My hair would be the last to go, submerging itself with all the joyful enthusiasm of a lump of sugar into a thick latte foam.

As it turns out, the Swamp of Sadness ain’t worth shit. Pull yourself into its deepest and most suffocating clot all you want, but you’ll still have to work, eat, do the dishes, wake up every day, etc. Artex never had that problem –- lucky bastard –- and the brochure for Depression certainly left those details out of its marketing spiel (no wonder it was only a one-star resort).

A few months earlier I’d bought a Nintendo Switch on an impulse purchase. It was an item I couldn’t particularly afford, but brains pushing for death don’t exactly fixate on such details. And so it was that I played “Mario Odyssey” in the midst of an agonising funk, and on a daily basis the aforementioned swamp would get temporarily hosed off. For much of the game, I was horrendous at preserving Mario’s life. The little jump-crazed dungaree enthusiast died a million deaths –- each one more punishing and avoidable than the last.

This was never intentional, I’m just terrible at games. But as it went on, and the game progressed, I realised that this was potentially the entire point of many Super Mario games and others of its ilk. As each level wore on, muscle memory kicked in and I fell into the various bouncy rhythms of survival that Mario has to offer.

In order to be victorious, Mario had to repeatedly eat shit. He had to fall off walls, ricochet off lava, get his arse chewed out by a mega-chain chomp, and drown. And then next time, maybe he wouldn’t. In fact, death helps to ease the navigation for the next attempt –- you know what not to do and where not to do it. As Friedrich Nietzsche once said, “Death is close enough at hand so we do not need to be afraid of life.” Amen, brother.

This mechanism is referenced within “The Super Mario Bros. Movie,” in which Mario –- in an attempt to simultaneously impress his bird and save his cowardly brother –- must complete a treacherous obstacle course. And of course, he absolutely eats shit in his first attempt –- but he gets better.

Perhaps the greatest reflection of this ideology, though, comes courtesy of a luminescent glow of nihilism called Lumalee –- a delightful prisoner caged up in Bowser’s dungeon who cheerfully proclaims an abundance of cynical statements in favor of death. “There is no escape. The only hope is the sweet relief of death,” they joyfully muse. Later, when the film’s finished, they gleefully tell the audience, “Everything’s over now and all that’s left is you and infinite void.” Our boy Nietzsche would be proud.

For those in the know (so, not me), Lumalee is based on a species of creatures called Luma from “Super Mario Galaxy.” At the end of that game, a whole adorable group of them happily kamikaze into death’s sweet embrace courtesy of a black hole fashioned by Bowser. Like Steve-O in a glass factory, these little cuties just absolutely love the chaos of life, the natural sting of pain, and the delicious thrall of extinction. It really puts things in perspective.

While I have no doubt there are some players who can walk through every level of any “Super Mario” game without a single misstep or death –- just as there are people in this world who have likely never had to face a single day of depression or anxiety –- the purpose is to repeatedly face death. To endure it, to return to it, to vanquish it. Live, die, repeat. Collect enough hearts in the game, and you’re more or less impervious to whatever spikes life –- or levels –- have in store for you. As Nietzsche once put it, “One has to pay dearly for immortality; one has to die several times while one is still alive.” And Mario does, good sir. Oh, how he does. And he absolutely motherfucking loves it, too.

And I can’t lie, after I’d gatecrashed Bowser’s wedding, smashed his bird, and drank the free bar of his castle dry to the point that I could reach the “Mario Odyssey” finale, I actually felt emotional. Me and this little Italian plumber had been through so many deaths together and come through it all smiling –- just a couple of big cocky lads kicking over the big boi’s nuptials bash. Somehow, I didn’t feel the sweet embrace of that swamp anymore. In fact, I momentarily forgot it existed. And yes, so I then got up everyday, and I ate shit everyday –- we all did, and we still do. But there are so many 1-Ups. And when all else fails, there’s always nihilism.

#the super mario brothers movie #super mario #mario odyssey #nihilsm #lumalee #nietzschequotes #friedrich nietzsche #nintendo #mental health

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siyasims · 3 years ago

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The Fatal Flaws Legacy Challenge

The premise of this challenge is that each generation is confronted with a “fatal flaw” that they either decide to overcome or revel in. The reason I wrote this challenge was because I realized that the sims I enjoyed playing most were ones with “negative” traits. I had a lot of fun writing this, so I hope at least one other person has fun playing it :)

The only generations that really require an expansion pack are gen 4: squeamish, because that particular trait comes from outdoor retreat and gen 7: lazy, because it requires you to adopt animals.

Google Doc Link

Notes:

This challenge is greatly improved by any mods that make actually traits matter, e.g. personality please, roburky’s meaningful stories.

This challenge is more story-based than game-play based, though there’s elements of both

You don’t need to complete the aspirations! They’re only meant as a guide + are also there for the sake of the aspiration trait.

You don’t need to complete the careers either, unless its a gen that specifically requires it.

Feel free to go to university any generation if you feel like it suits your sim’s story/you want to.

Generation One: Mean

you didn’t grow up in the happiest or most functional of households. and so you moved out as soon as you could. now it’s just you, your dog, and your shitty job. you’re kind of an asshole, but you can’t help it – it’s a deep-seated defense mechanism from your past. other people can’t hurt you if you hurt them first, right? but as you grow older, you start to realise that, more than anything, you want the loving family you never had. if only you could find someone who could make it past your terrible social skills in order to see the big heart you have hidden underneath.

traits: mean, dog lover (base game: loyal) + family orientated (YA)

aspiration: big happy family

career: retail + can pick another part time career as an adult on top of that (optional)

rules

start the generation as a teen on an empty lot.

drop out of high school using a mod, or just simply don’t go.

make money from the retail career + dumpster diving, fishing, collectibles, anything, just never get a proper full time job. you never finished high school, after all.

when you age up into young adult, meet and woo a sim of your choice (optional: they have the good trait.)

be mean and rude to everyone come across until you fall in love with your future spouse.

have at least three kids and become at least ‘friends’ level relationship with all of them.

Cats and Dogs: have a dog with the friendly trait, become companions with them.

Parenthood: if you want an extra challenge, age up from teenager to have the insensitive trait from negative empathy.

Generation Two: Slob

you’re in love with your roommate. your perfect, beautiful, neat-freak of a roommate. unfortunately, they don’t seem to feel the same way about you, and it’s your confession that causes them to move out. or could the piles of dirty dishes, the clothes on the floor, and the rotten food in the fridge have something to do with it? will you go against your nature to show your commitment to your one true love and try to win them back? or will you wallow in your own filth – forever?

traits: slob, romantic, geek or creative

aspiration: soulmate

career: freelance programmer or freelance artist (or another work-from-home career of your choosing)

rules

move out as a young adult into a flat or an apartment with one or more roommates. one of these roommates must have the “neat” trait.

try to be as filthy as you possibly can. leave trash everywhere. never do the dishes. showering = optional.

fail a “confess attraction” interaction with the neat roommate aka. the love of your life. this should be relatively easy if you have one or both sims in bad moods. then have the roommate move out into another lot.

try to win your roommate back by cleaning up your disgusting house OR find another slob sim who loves you for who you are and complete the soulmate aspiration

have at least one child with your soulmate so you have an heir.

+ Eco Lifestyle: woohoo in a dumpster at least once in your life.

+ Bust the Dust: complete the fabulously filthy aspiration, and befriend at least one dust bunny.

+ Parenthood: for an extra challenge, become a young adult with the bad manners trait (from growing up with negative manners)

Generation Three: Hot-Headed

you’re a good sim, honest! actually, you love other sims. you even moved to the city so you could be around more of them. but that doesn’t change the fact that you have a teensy bit of an anger problem. you just can’t help it when you look at the state of the world! especially when you see other sims suffer – you get so, so angry you feel like you’re going to explode! can you manage your anger enough that you can avoid hurting someone? or will you accidentally take it out on someone who doesn’t deserve it?

traits: hot-headed, good, green fiend or music lover.

aspiration: friend of the world.

career: Charity Organiser (or any career that fits your personal definition of good)

rules

move out as a young adult.

make friends with at least five people in the same neighbourhood as you

get into a fight with at least one evil sim

do good deeds wherever you can! pick up litter, tip performers, help your neighbor fix their broken toilet etc.

have at least one child/heir.

+ Parenthood: receive the compassionate trait (age up with positive empathy)

+ volunteer at least once a week

+ City Living: move to a san myshuno apartment as a young adult

+ make friends with all the people in your building

+ meet your partner at the romance festival

+ Werewolves: if occults are your thing, werewolf gameplay really fits the theme of this generation

Generation Four: Squeamish

your parent might be a little rough around the edges, but they truly are a wonderful person. inspired by them to do good in the world, it’s been your life-long dream to become a doctor. you walk into work on the first day of your new job with a spring in your step, determined to do anything to succeed – except, hold on a minute, is that blood?! (This Gen requires Outdoor Retreat)

traits: squeamish, ambitious, high maintenance (base game: vegetarian)

aspiration: inner peace (or anything you want)

career: doctor (if you don’t have get to work, try becoming a vet instead or alternatively, you can try rebelling against your parent and becoming a criminal (boss branch))

rules

reach the top of your chosen career

role a die two sim hours into every work day. if it lands on 6, your sim freaks out and has to go home early.

have a mounted fish on the wall at your place of work. don’t ask why. its just the workplace fish.

be sent to granite falls to try to complete the insect collection (for medical purposes if you’re a doctor/vet, for mischief purposes if you’re a criminal). oh, and you have to stay in a tent. (note: if you manage to successfully complete the collection, cheat yourself a promotion)

marry a coworker and have at least one child, but you must either adopt or have your partner carry the baby – there’s absolutely no way you’re giving birth.

+ Spa Day: do yoga or meditate at least once a week to cope with the stresses of your job.

+ Parenthood: receive the good manners trait (age up with positive manners)

Generation Five: Hates Children

life has never been very serious for you. sure, you exchange promise rings with someone in high school, but that doesn’t actually mean anything, does it? with adulthood comes a rude awakening in the form of a failed degree AND a failed relationship. but now you’re free to focus on your one true passion, comedy. or are you? you somehow end up with a screaming, vomiting, poop-machine on your hands. it’s your worst nightmare, but at least it makes for great comedy material. and just maybe you won’t be such a bad parent after all.

traits: hates children, goofball + unflirty (YA)

aspiration: joke star

career: comedian

rules

find a partner as a teen and exchange promise rings.

move out with your high school sweetheart as soon as you become a young adult

have the relationship slowly break down while cohabitating

break up right after a successful try for baby/risky woohoo + immediately move out

raise the resultant child on your own and never get into another romantic relationship

when your offspring ages into a toddler, they should be assigned the “fussy” trait.

become best friends with your child before they age into a teen.

+ University: enroll in a degree but drop out after one semester

+ Parenthood: try to reach level ten of the parenting skill

Generation Six: Materialistic

growing up with a struggling comedian as a single parent has made you hungry for the finer things in life. you hustle and grind, climbing up from the bottom, and earn yourself all the wealth and expensive, beautiful things you could ever want. you even get yourself a gorgeous spouse and kids to share your riches with. except - your marriage falls apart and it turns out there was a tiny little detail in the pre-nup that you didn’t take notice of. you lose everything, and you’re devastated. do you have what it takes to work yourself back to riches a second time? or have you decided that working a 9 to 5 job is kind of boring, anyway?

traits: materialistic, overachiever (base game: self-assured), adventurous (base game: loves outdoors)

aspiration: mansion baron

career: any part time job (teen) + business (ceo branch) + your choice

rules

work a part time job as a teenager

as an young adult, get married and have kids with another materialistic sim.

reach level ten of the business career.

once you reach level ten of your career, have your spouse divorce you and take everything, including your job.

quit your job and move out with 20,000 simoleons into a starter home, or if you want your spouse to be really evil, into an empty lot with 0 simoleons.

try and reach level 10 of another career OR pay your bills by living off the land, hippie-style (or doing any kind of adventure-y, outdoors-y career of your choice. for example, treasure hunter (jungle adventure), teaching skiing classes or earning royalties through snowboarding videos (snowy escape))

have your kids move in with you when you can support them.

+ Snowy Escape: go on at least one vacation to mount komorebi while you’re still married and get really into skiing, snow-boarding and/or mountain climbing.

+ move there after your divorce to spend more time pursuing your favourite hobby/s

+ High School Years: complete the “goal orientated” teen aspiration

Generation Seven: Lazy

(cw: animal neglect) you’ve always loved animals, but even though you were given everything else you wanted growing up, your parent was allergic and so you never really had pets past the goldfish in your backyard pond. naturally, as soon as you grow up and move out you adopt as many animals as you can! little did you know that taking care of other living beings is hard work. eventually all the animals you adopted decide to up and leave you due to your laziness. heartbroken, you debate trying again, eventually deciding to give animal ownership another go. but you first make yourself a promise - you’re never going to let any animal under your care suffer again, no matter the effort it takes! (This Generation requires Cottage Living or Cats and Dogs)

traits: lazy, childish, animal enthusiast or cat/dog lover.

aspiration: friend of the animals

career: vet (cats and dogs) or farmer (cottage living)

rules

upon moving out as a young adult, adopt as many animals as you can (at least 7). it will probably be chaos.

have them all run away/get taken away due to neglect.

after an appropriate period of mourning/self-reflection, adopt replacement animals, but only a manageable amount.

reach full friendship with all of your new animals and repent for your sins.

nap at least once a day.

whatever your career, take plenty of vacation days.

get married to a client (vet) or a local (cottage living)

have at least one child to be the heir.

+ Parenthood: if you want an extra challenge, receive the irresponsible trait upon aging up from a teen (negative responsibility)

Generation Eight: Snob

you’ve always had a sense of knowing better than everyone else, much to your family’s annoyance. whatever, you don’t need those backwards philistines anyway. you move out and decide that you’re going to make a living off your sharp eyes and critical mind, and make friends with like-minded sims. being amongst your kind for the first time is enjoyable at first, until inevitably they turn their criticism towards you. “what are they wearing?” you hear someone whisper, “you can tell they grew up on a farm.” embarrassed and upset, you decide to ditch your new friend group. will you ever find people who love you for who are? (Get Together recommended but not necessary)

traits: snob, art lover, clumsy

aspiration: leader of the pack (base game: painter extraordinaire or best-selling author)

career: art critic (base game – painter (patron of the arts) or writer (author branch))

rules

move out as soon as you’re a young adult, avoid contact with your family and any childhood friends you may have had.

make friends with other snobs in your neighbourhood, and routinely visit the museum together

after you reach level 5 or 6 in your career, or at a time you think is appropriate, quit your snobby friend group

make friends with new, non-snob sims.

fall in love with one of your friends and have at least one child to be the heir

get back in touch with your family after you have a child

reach level 10 of your career

+ Get Together: create a club that has the snob trait as a requirement, gather at the museum and critique the art.

+ quit the club at when you ditch your snobby friends and start a new club that has ‘art lover’ as a requirement, have it be enemies with your old club.

Generation Nine: Noncommittal

there’s nothing you value more than your freedom. you flee the nest as soon as you graduate high school – finally nothing to hold you down! you bounce between jobs and relationships, never quit committing to anything, until an ill-advised one night stand changes your life. they fall in love with you, and one of you falls pregnant. to make matters worse, their father happens to be your newest boss, and in your paranoia you become convinced that you won’t be able to leave his child and still live. to avoid imminent assassination, you propose. so now you’re engaged and stuck in a career you only joined as a temporary way to make ends meet. from your perspective, there’s only one way you can go to escape your job and your impending marriage – up.

traits: non-commital, socially awkward (base game: loner), paranoid (base game: erratic)

aspiration: serial romantic

career: various + criminal (either branch)

rules

move out as soon as you age up to a young adult.

have at least 5 casual relationships and try at least three different careers before joining the criminal career.

have a one night stand with a sim whose father is ranked level 9 in the criminal career. this one night stand results in pregnancy.

get engaged to your one night stand after getting walked in on by their father.

your goal is to get out of your relationship and your job by climbing through the career ranks until you outrank your fiance’s father (level 10).

after reaching level 10 of the criminal career, become friends with your fiance’s father and realise he’s actually a nice guy who probably wouldn’t have you assassinated.

decide to end the engagement as soon as you reach level 10 or slowly and reluctantly fall in love your fiancé now that you realise you’re not as trapped as you thought.

quit your job – congratulations, you’re finally free!

+ High School Years: complete the “live fast ” teen aspiration

Generation Ten: Evil

(cw: murder) you’re the definition of an extrovert – a social butterfly. an evil social butterfly. you’re not sure how you turned out this way. maybe it was how you were raised. maybe its just how you were born. maybe it’s just in your DNA. either way, you’re pretty sure you’re not going to change. there’s actually not a smidge of character development in sight. so - you might as well have fun with the life you were gifted, and be an agent of chaos until the day you die.

traits: evil, outgoing, cheerful.

aspiration: party animal

career: anything you want!

rules

complete the social butterfly aspiration as a child

as a teenager, have lots of friends, but pick one unfortunate classmate to bully.

move out and party like crazy!

go to a nightclub at least one night a week

host a party at least one night a week.

reach level 10 charisma and have a lot of friends

have at least 10 parties where at least one sim dies. they can die however you want, only you must be the cause in some way. if all else fails, just lock them in a room of your house and let them die of starvation.

keep all the graves of your victims as trophies

have a secret evil lair/prison in your basement.

have as many relationships as you want but only settle down once you find another evil sim.

die as a result of one of your evil schemes going wrong

+ Realm of Magic/Vampires: if occults are your thing, feel free to become a spellcaster/vampire so that your evil deeds are easier to accomplish.

+ High School Years: complete the “drama llama” teen aspiration

#sims 4 challenge #sims 4 challenges #sims 4 legacy #sims 4 legacy challenge #the sims 4 #ts4 #ts4 challenge #ts4 challenges #ts4 legacy #ts4 legacy challenge #the fatal flaws legacy challenge

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the-scandalorian · 3 years ago

Note

What about a mix of two prompts?

“i've never been kissed before so you volunteer but i decline, we're best friends and it would be weird, but a couple hours later i lay awake in my bed and i can't stop thinking about what it would be like to kiss you and suddenly i regret what i said”

and

“two characters look at each other. silence. then. BOOM BANG LIPS CRASHING CAN'T RESIST YOU ANYMORE BAM BOOM THERE'S A WALL LET'S PIN YOU AGAINST IT”

of Din Drjarin/f!reader?

Thank you so much for the prompt!! I love this combination so much! Hope you enjoy this 💖 And for the others who made requests, they're in the works!

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Reader Rating: M Word Count: 1.6k Warnings: alcohol consumption, spice

You and Mando were sitting in your usual evening position—back-to-back in the middle of the hull—so he could lift his helmet just enough to eat. You’d finished dinner a while ago, and now you were passing a flask of whiskey back and forth over your shoulders. The last few hunts had been long and hard, but the carbonite chamber was now at capacity, so you were taking a night off before returning to Nevarro.

As the flask got lighter and the sky visible through the open ramp faded from a dusky twilight to a velvety black, you inched closer together until you were fully leaned against one another. He was fairly comfortable as a backrest considering the amount of metal and weaponry strapped to his body.

Your conversation had been skirting dangerous territory for a while now—a place you’d been working towards for months if you were being honest. You weren’t supposed to be doing this though: the easy friendship, the light teasing, and the casual intimacy of spending weeks together in a confined space were supposed to stop there... not progress into anything more. You were hunting partners—that was it.

Yet, here you were telling him about your first kiss.

“What about you, Mando? I mean... is kissing even allowed for Mandalorians?”

You reached back to pass him the flask. He took a pull and then—in his unmodulated voice, which was always slightly distracting—said, "Mandalorians touch the foreheads of their helmets together... it's called a Keldabe kiss.”

“That’s very sweet and all, but what about actual kissing? Is that allowed? Or are you only allowed to bonk your metal heads together?”

He scoffed and tilted his helmet back to lightly knock against the back of your head. You laughed and knocked him back.

(That only counts as a Mandalorian kiss if you’re facing each other... right?)

“So?”

“Yes, it’s allowed. If you find someone you trust, there are options... blindfolds, dark rooms... eventually, marriage.”

You ignored the way your heart dropped a little more at each of those options. Instead, you pressed him again: “Okay, so... what was your first kiss like?”

“I don’t have a good story like you do.”

You nudged his side with your elbow. “Oh come on, just tell me! I told you mine, so you have to tell me yours. That’s how the game works.”

You heard him exhale and take another long pull from the flask. He passed it back to you over his shoulder. “Isn’t it my turn to ask a question though?”

You scrunched your eyebrows together. Honestly, you’d lost track of whose turn it was at this point, but he’d answered every other random question you’d thrown at him, even the intrusive one about the craziest places he’d had sex. He’d even thrown you some bold curveballs. But he didn’t want to tell you about his first kiss?

It hit you all at once.

“You’ve never kissed anyone.” You blurted the thought before remembering to pass it through your usual verbal filter.

“No, I haven’t,” he confirmed.

“Oh,” was all you can think to say. You took a sip, and the whiskey burned slightly as it went down your throat. You reached back to hand it over again.

His gloved fingers brushed yours when he took it from you. “I never trusted anyone enough in the past.”

In the past.

Your thoughts raced as you tried to decide if that wording was intentional.

...he was sitting here, leaned against you, lifting his helmet in your presence, in the present…

That had to mean something.

You couldn’t help but ask the question that seared through your mind, “Do you trust me?”

He let a pause stretch out between you, laden with the implication of your question, and shifted slightly against your back. “Yes.”

Your heart rate kicked up. There was so much potential in that yes that you couldn’t help but push forward.

“I would kiss you.”

It came out sounding like an offer, but you really meant it as a want. You wanted to kiss him. You’d held that truth for a while now—months probably—keeping it close to your chest, knowing that it would likely live there forever. There was no room for attachment in your utilitarian partnership, or in his strict Creed and your nomadic existence. Kissing him was an unrealistic daydream, a passing thought you regularly ignored.

Though... it was harder to ignore when he let his gloved hand linger on your waist, or threw himself into the line of fire to protect you, or wordlessly accepted joint commissions from Karga as if your partnership was implicit. He’d been doing all those things more and more often.

And now, your carefully guarded truth was lingering out there, floating freely between you. You started to panic as the silence stretched on and scrambled to snatch it back: “I mean... if you want to know what it’s like.”

You immediately regretted adding that qualification. That wasn’t why you said it.

Another strained moment of silence passed.

“It wouldn’t make for a very good story,” he finally replied. He was trying to make light of the weird situation, but it came out flat in his modulated voice. He was obviously uncomfortable... and uninterested.

You were so incredibly grateful that he couldn’t see your face at that moment. You forced out an unconvincing laugh and said: “Right.”

The chirping of the crickets outside suddenly seemed deafening in the fraught silence that settled between you. You felt him adjust against your back once more. The flask appeared in your periphery, and you grabbed it quickly, taking a long pull.

Fuck.

You could tell that you had just taken the quiet, tenuous potential of your friendship and obliterated it with one awkward sentence.

“I’m going to get some sleep,” he said, pushing himself to his feet behind you.

You nodded vaguely and stayed where you were, staring out into the starry night, until you heard the mechanical click of his bunk closing behind him.

It was never going to happen—you’d always known that. It had never been a real possibility. And yet, in some shadowy corner of your traitorous heart, the tiniest bit of hope had taken root, cultivated by months of lingering touches and endless time spent together in hyperspace. And it hurt to have that fledgling hope completely crushed.

Eventually, you closed the ramp and plopped down on the spare cot against the wall. You tossed and turned for a long time, wondering if Mando would even want to partner with you for jobs any more. Probably not.

You froze when you heard his bunk slide open and the sound of his feet hitting the floor. You expected to hear him walk to the refresher, but when you didn’t hear his footsteps, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look at him.

He was facing you, backlit by the light of his open bunk. His silhouette was different than usual—with a jolt, you realized that he was completely unarmored aside from his helmet. The hands that were twitching and clenching by his sides were bare. You sat up and swung your legs over the side of the cot, waiting for him to do something... anything. The silence between you wasn’t strained now; it was charged, electric, expectant.

He reached back and pressed a button on the wall behind him and his bunk slid shut, bathing the space in complete darkness. You heard him take two steps toward you, then stop. He was waiting for you in the middle of the hull, wordlessly asking you to meet him halfway.

So you did.

You weren’t sure what to do once you were standing a foot in front of his dark outline. You waited for a moment, then you both stepped towards each other at the same time, his hands—you faintly registered that you were feeling his skin on yours for the first time—finding your arms in the darkness. You pressed one palm to the soft fabric covering his chest, tilted your face up... and waited.

He needed to be the one who took that final step.

After he released a shaky exhale through the modulator, his right hand left your bicep to reach up and grip the lip of his helmet. Your stomach swooped in anticipation when you heard the pneumatic release, and you watched the dark shape being lifted from his head.

You could feel the beating of his heart under your fingertips as he lowered his hand to his side, helmet grasped in his fingers. He leaned down, and you couldn’t help but lean up to meet him. Your lips connected sloppily in the dark, off-center and a little harder than you meant, but you corrected yourselves quickly. You thought about how soft his lips were as you moved yours against his; you smiled against his mouth when you noted the tickle of his mustache, and he exhaled against you when you reached up to map out the rest of his face with your hands: scratchy stubble along his jawline, a sharp nose, wrinkles at the corners of his eyes, soft hair feathered across his forehead.

He let out a satisfied moan and gripped you a little tighter when you parted your lips to run your tongue experimentally along his pouting bottom lip. He responded in kind, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss, his tongue tentatively working its way into your mouth. A muffled moan slipped from your own lips, and you slid one hand under the hem of his shirt, dragging your palm up the rippling muscles of his back.

Mando seemed to be emboldened by your exploration; his helmet clanged against the floor when he let it fall, and both his hands were suddenly roaming over your body, large palms cupping your breasts through your shirt. In an instant, a kiss that had started out as uncertain and eager was suddenly hot and desperate. He backed you toward the ladder with decisive steps until you were pinned between it and his broad chest. His hands worked their way down your back, over the swell of your ass, until he was gripping the backs of your thighs. You linked your hands behind his neck, so he could hoist your legs up and around his middle.

He dipped his head into the crook of your neck, and his lips found your skin. He trailed kisses up, until he paused with his mouth by your ear.

“It was worth the wait.”

***

everything taglist: @chattychell @fisforfulcrum @meanperegrine @over300books @rebelpitstop @spideysimpossiblegirl @tacticalsparkles @tobealostwanderer @trashbuns @tuskens-mando

#my writing #requests #asks #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin reader insert #mando fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian reader insert #din djarin x you #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x f!reader #mando x you #mando x female reader #mando x f!reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x female reader #the mandalorian x f!reader

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sisterlelianas · 4 years ago

Text

another life (oh, if only you knew)

ao3 link

this is a “small” (🤡) one-shot where our lady alcina dimitrescu meets the woman who ends up being her future lover for the first time before she’s turned into a vampire. they meet again, centuries later and are both unprepared to face each other, in their own way. In other words: they are gay ❤️ + someone tell these two fools how to navigate their feelings for each other, PLEASE

word count: 10.810 words (yeah, i know)

author’s notes: a huge chunk of this was written before i played the game, meaning most of it (including things regarding Heisenberg’s powers, etc) is not canon compliant, still, i feel like going against canon is a good thing for us, anyway. y’all know what i mean. SO! this one-shot is actually really close to my heart. alcina and the girls live in my head absolutely rent free and i don’t even mind. hope you all enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it

p.s. this is the first fic that i have ever posted and written. blame it on our milf

Big, social gatherings were useful in their own, distinct way. Meeting counts, their wives, the countesses... the secret lovers of those same counts, which everyone, but the wives, were aware of... there were plenty of those. Never a dull moment, truly. Attending a party your dear, darling husband organised, however, was a different story. Alcina Dimitrescu was not the kind of woman to be more than glad to step back from her role and allow a man to take the reigns for her, to allow him to play the part of the head of the house. She oftentimes found herself wishing for his... mysterious disappearance. He could even flat out drop dead - she was not picky.

The overwhelming noise of constant blabbering from her guests was beginning to irritate her, though. Meaningless social affairs were most definitely beneath the Countess - hiding the frown that would frequently settle on the corners of her mouth, after a particularly loud cackle from one of the men, by sipping some wine seemed to be turning into a recurring move for the woman. Everywhere she looked all she could see was uninteresting people playing a part. Acting as if they were all happy to be there. What else was new? The same faces carrying out the same conversations. The worst part was that her husband had the most... particular taste in friends. They were all male, of course, and so incredibly stupid and dull. The kind you look at and just know they won’t be saying anything insightful throughout the entire affair. Men, the Countess mused. What else could you expect from such limited beings? The mere thought of them making her frown deeper, her lips pursing slightly for what seemed like a millisecond.

Her husband was fuelled by attention - seemed to thrive off it, actually. She turned to look at him from the red, bergère chair she was sitting on and observed his behaviour from afar. One hand was in his pocket, the other holding a golden goblet filled to the brim with red wine. The contents of it would often spill and fall to the floor whenever he would give a hearty laugh or swing his arms around to better illustrate whatever dull-witted point he was trying to make. The goblet was filled to the brim no longer and his cheeks were rosy, meaning he was far from being sober, at that point. It was only a matter of time before she had to step in and chastise him for acting like a fool whose goal seemed to be disgracing House Dimitrescu, something the Countess would never turn a blind eye to. She held on to her own goblet of wine tighter, then. Luckily, it was not made of glass, or it would have shattered.

She exhaled harshly from her nose, once, before a charming, almost musical laugh broke her reverie. She had to keep herself from snapping her head to the side to look at where the sound had come from, making her movements slow and precise instead, so as to not draw attention to herself or her newfound curiosity. Well, well. Now that was a pleasant sight. The sound had come from a woman. An extremely beautiful one, at that. Her hair was brown, braided most elegantly, and complemented her features in a way that was almost indescribable. The warm lighting of the ballroom they were in altered it’s hue, reminding the other woman of free, autumn leaves, drifting gracefully in the wind. The Countess wondered how long the woman’s hair would be if she were to free it from the pins that were holding it in place.

Her dress was red, cut somewhat generously at the front. Bold, for the gathering she was attending, though it certainly made a statement, it would seem. The frame fitting, silken dress appeared to draw the attention of several men, who, of course, barely even bothered to make eye contact with the woman whenever they spoke to her. This made Alcina’s lips curl down momentarily in disgust. Men could truly be such dogs, she thought.

The brown haired woman captured the attention of every person around her whenever she’d speak, although the smile she wore did not reach her hazel coloured eyes - it had a subtle, mechanical look to it - and her posture was slightly too stiff, as if she studied every move before actually moving. Her smile, her demeanour... it was all clearly forced, but only those who were paying very close attention could see through her mask. The woman’s eyes then shifted downwards when she sipped her wine. She felt a pair of eyes on her - sort of like how you feel when roaming around in a haunted house, you don’t see anything, yet feel everything, only this time, the feeling was more than welcomed. Drifting her eyes upwards, she finally met the Countess’s gaze. Almost like a magnet. How intriguing. She was, indeed, hauntingly beautiful, the mysterious woman thought.

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, in a way that was almost too cliché. The brunette half-hoped she could relive the moment all over again. She could not look away. They both couldn’t.

The woman’s lips were still hidden behind the glass of wine, but her eyes told the Countess all she needed to know. They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries and every second of it was absolutely delicious - the brunette didn’t shy away from Alcina’s prying eyes at all, she seemed to revel in the fact that she was the one the Countess was looking at - her chest puffed slightly, her head tilting upwards a bit, and when she finally removed the goblet from her face she had an almost missable smirk painting her soft, red lips, making one of Alcina’s eyebrows arch slightly. Ah, at this rate, the things you could see just by looking into another person’s eyes was almost criminal.

Their staring contest was, much to Alcina’s chagrin, broken when a particularly loud and obnoxious laugh came from her husband. The fool was probably trying to charm one of his guests for the umpteenth time that evening. Having had enough, she stood up at once and took long strides towards him so as to not allow him to embarrass himself, or, rather, her, any further. The room didn’t fall silent, but several people spoke in a hushed tone as they watched the Countess walk towards the opposite side of the room. The way she moved was almost hypnotic - the skirts of her dress shifted delicately, her face completely still, not betraying any emotions, not a hair on her head out of place. It was almost as if she was floating.

“Beloved,” the sound of her voice evoked an immediate reaction out of her husband, who quickly turned to face her, visibly sputtering, and out of several other people near them. Heads literally turned.

Everyone knew who was at the helm of House Dimitrescu, it didn’t matter how many parties her husband attempted to throw or how many Counts he tried to butter up. There was only one, and it was not him. It was her. He knew this. She knew this. Everyone did, and playing the part of the good, perfect, respectable wife was beginning to wear the woman down in a way that was borderline dangerous, at that point. Men are technically allowed to rule sometimes, unfortunately. This was not one of those times.

“My dearest wife-“ her husband started, slurring his words slightly. She immediately cut him off by grasping his arm in a way that told him to stop talking, but also looked relatively loving to whoever was watching, “A word,” she was not asking, she was telling.

The brown haired woman, who had previously captured the Countess’s attention, watched as the couple walked, with their arms linked, towards a secluded part of their castle. She noticed how the black haired woman nodded curtly towards her guests as she walked past them, not wanting to be a poor host despite being displeased with her husband’s behaviour. Brown eyes took in the other woman’s.... figure as she walked away. A sight to behold, as she had initially guessed. Her dress hugged all her curves in the most mouthwatering way. It was almost too difficult for one to tear their eyes from her.

In the meantime, the party was simply not the same when she was absent. Like an ever-present energy, not a soul in that room could look at the Countess and mistake her for a person who could go unnoticed. Even if she wasn’t in the room physically, everything had her name written all over it. It was hers. It was all hers.

——

Several moments passed before the Countess and her husband decided to grace the party with their presence once more, still, the brunette immediately took note of it and watched as the other woman navigated the room confidently to greet some of her other guests, never once breaking into a full smile, however. Maybe they just hadn’t earned it.

If she wanted to greet her and leave a lasting impression, before having to leave the party, it had to be now.

——

“— they are positively dreadful. I cannot bear the sight of them. The man calls himself a painter yet cannot seem to find within himself the ability to paint properly!” a man loudly said, some of the guests laughing along with him. Others at him. Alcina’s facial expression, on the other hand, remained completely neutral with no signs of her cracking a smile anytime soon. The man noticed and, unfortunately for him, made an attempt to mansplain art to the Lady of the House. The group fell silent, uncomfortably so, as the man waited on Alcina to grace him with a response. It did not seem like he was getting one.

“You are out of your depth, Constantin,” Alcina immediately recognised the lilting voice, looked over her left shoulder and towards the sound. It was her. The phrase was voiced with a hint of playfulness so as to not humiliate the man any further, “Our host knows more about the wonders of the arts than you ever will.” She was standing directly beside Alcina now, yet seemingly refused to meet her gaze, choosing not to break eye contact with the man who dared question the Lady’s knowledge instead.

“In fact,” she inhaled through her nose, pursed her lips - allowing a hint of contempt to escape her for a fleeting moment - and clasped her hands at her front, “I believe we are all uncultured, empty-headed people in comparison, no? Some more than others”, she gave the man a pointed look, making the people around her chuckle in consensual agreement. That’s when she finally turned her head to face the other woman, whose gaze had been boring holes into her head as soon as she had decided to stand beside her. That’s when the brunette noticed that no one else was near the Countess, but all directly in front of her. It was as if she had stepped onto the woman’s stage. The realisation made her bow her head humbly before turning her body to fully face her, “I don’t believe we’ve met, my Countess”, she extended her hand, “Angela Drăculea, I have been meaning to make your acquaintance for awhile, now”.

This time, her smile had reached her eyes, which were now half-lidded. The laugh lines that formed charmingly around them only seemed to become more noticeable once Alcina took her hand in her own and hummed in acknowledgement, “I don’t believe our husbands have met”, she stated matter of factly.

“I beg your pardon?” the other woman said. They were still holding each other’s hands, the feeling sending shivers down Angela’s spine - she even seemed to draw nearer when the Countess spoke, which did not go unnoticed. Like a sailor being charmed by a siren, completely unaware of the perils surrounding such action. Alcina’s gaze refused to leave her own. It soon became intoxicating.

“He would have introduced us by now,” her calming voice said, before finally dropping the other woman’s hand, “Unless you come here uninvited and are a trespasser,” once again, it was not posed as an inquiry, it was as if she was throwing statements at the other woman, gauging her reaction to them.

The brunette squinted her eyes without dropping her endearing smile, “Our husbands have not met, no.” she squared her shoulders, then, and allowed her gaze to drift downwards, towards the Countess’s necklace, though she doubted that that’s what the other woman was really looking at, “I am afraid I have no husband to introduce in the first place,” she playfully said, giving her a knowing smile and looking into her eyes once more. Angela was good at matching other people’s energy. If they teased, she would tease back. If they taunted, she would follow. If they threatened...

A hint of a smile ghosted Alcina’s lips, “Is that so?”

The atmosphere changed around them almost immediately. Some of the guests even squirmed uncomfortably whilst watching the verbal exchange unfold. It was not a normal conversation by any means. The brunette seemed to be speaking to the Countess for a particular reason. Alcina, on the other hand, was testing her. Watching her. Studying her, in a way that was not totally uncomfortable but also let the other woman know that she was not to be taken for a fool. Even so, their audience didn’t seem to bother this so-called ‘Angela’, Alcina noted. If anything, it only seemed to encourage her. Interesting, she thought.

The woman gave a smile, that was absolutely sinful, and bit down on her bottom lip for a split second. The woman opened her mouth to say something before placing her, now empty, goblet of wine on a round, silver platter one of the servants, who walked past her, was holding, “Indeed,”

“Rather unusual, wouldn’t you say?”, her tone lost all signs of amusement, then, and her expression turned almost sour. The sudden change of heart caught the brunette off guard, but unfortunately to Alcina, she was quick-witted and would not back down easily.

“Some would say so, yes,” her chin tilted upwards almost imperceptibly. She couldn’t stand taller than the other woman even if she tried, however. They were about the same height, Angela was slightly shorter, but the way the Lady of the House carried herself made her look taller than any other person in that room, almost incomprehensibly so, “Some would even go as far as to question my womanhood. Be that as it may... it is not how I see it.”

Alcina’s nostrils flared for a brief second, she had a feeling that the woman before her was about to cross a line that should never be crossed. Not with her. It was as if she was pushing all her buttons just to see if she could. A mistake. Nevertheless, she pressed on, “How do you see it?”, she glowered, daring her to speak her mind.

Angela didn’t look the tiniest bit regretful. It drove Alcina mad. She was a lady, therefore making a scene was absolutely out of the question, but Gods be damned, if the woman in front of her didn’t stay in line—

“Complete and utter freedom.” she cooed. The last thing Alcina expected was for the woman to bend at the waist, then, seemingly choosing to remove herself from the conversation now before it ended poorly, and moved to hold the Countess’s hand in her own once more. She paused, allowing Alcina to remove her hand from her grasp. When that didn’t come, she looked up from under her lashes, not moving from the position she was in, and placed a deliberate kiss on her hand, feeling it tense up under her touch.

Once they stood at eye level, the first thing Angela observed was the Lady’s facial expression. First, her eyes flashed dangerously. Then, her jaw clenched. But then, and much to the brunettes dismay, Alcina’s face went blank. All terrible signs, when one is making an attempt at courtship, really. No matter though, because the last thing Angela noticed before finally moving away from the Countess were her eyes. One’s body always betrays them, it would seem, for the woman’s pupils were blown and only one word was written all over her face. Desire.

“In another life, perhaps?” was all the infuriating woman said, a soft smile on her face, before finally moving away, turning her back on the Lady and disappearing into the crowd. She left just as the Countess’s husband decided to join in on the conversation he had just missed. Whatever it was that he said, it earned him a hissed out reply from his wife.

———————————————

“My decision is final, there will be no argument. Remember from whence you came,” was all the priestess had to say for the room to settle down, “Unless any of you provide me with a reason as to why our plan should change, I advise you all spare me your childish, petty squabbles”. Her voice was cold and left no room for disagreement. Heisenberg looked at his sister, his chest puffed and a ridiculously smug grin on his face. There was nothing more she wanted to do at that moment than wipe it off his face. With his hammer, perhaps.

He had always been an irksome man, yet became even more so after his transformation. Alcina was thankful for the fact that she did not have to deal with his presence on a daily basis. He was like an annoying smell you simply could not get rid of and having to deal with familial issues even after your death felt like a poor joke. He did not respect her. She would have to change that.

“Thank you, Mother Miranda,” he patronisingly said, bowing to his sister mockingly, “you will not be disappointed”. There was his wolffish grin again. Alcina tsked and moved to stand behind her seat once more. Losing Ethan Winters did not irritate her too much - she did not care for the man nor for his safety - the fact that she was losing him to her brother, of all people, however... Now, that was a different story. It seemed that, even in death, men attempted to reach for things that were not theirs to claim. She knew her brother. His irresponsible nature would end up getting the best of him and she would have to clean up his mess. That’s how it always went. She and her daughters would’ve killed the mortal so much quicker.

He turned to face the man in shackles then, opened his arms wide and began, loudly, “Lycans and gentlemen, we thank you for waiting! And, now, let the games beg—“

He would have finished his speech if he had not been rudely interrupted by the sound of the doors, leading to the old, dilapidated chapel, slamming against the walls, a woman standing on the threshold. She was wearing all black garments, which were softly swaying in the cold, winter breeze, her face fully shadowed and hidden both by her hood and some kind of plain, black material covering the lower half of her face. Not a single hint of skin in sight. Her ensamble was not poor or dirty in the slightest. It was perhaps a bit hard on the eyes, but one could tell it was carefully handpicked by its wearer. Clothes do make others perceive you differently, after all. Whatever it was that she was trying to achieve by dressing in such fashion, it seemed that she had succeeded.

Her posture was straight and one of her, gloved, hands was holding on to some kind of satchel. Everyone in the room was surprised by the sudden interruption, including the mortal, who was now making pathetic attempts to uncomfortably turn and face whatever new threat he would have to deal with later. Everyone looked as if the woman was trespassing. Everyone but the priestess.

“You have decided to join us after all, I see,” her tone was far from welcoming. It almost sounded as if she was reprimanding the woman, not just for interrupting their meeting, but for showing up at all, “Do you come bearing news?”, once again, her tone was flat, giving away the impression of utter disinterest and boredom.

Heisenberg was leaning against his hammer and pinching the bridge of his nose with his right hand, probably wondering when he was going to be allowed to play with his food. Alcina, on the other hand, was watching this woman, who had not yet made a sound, carefully. It was almost like they had been interrupted by a ghost. A ghost they were not meant to see. She took the other woman in once more, noticing how she was, surprisingly, not as short as the others around her. Still not as tall as the Countess, but definitely much taller than her brother, for instance. How interesting.

“My suspicions were correct,” that voice.... where could she have heard it before? Lady Dimitrescu stood taller then, her eyes widening for a split second and her lips forming a thin line before she could keep her facial expressions under check. It could not be, could it? After all those years?

“You took your precious time,” Miranda critiqued, “what have you learned?”, the room was dead silent, save for a few lycans who were growling lowly at the new guest. All eyes were set on this newcomer, which, interestingly enough, seemed to upset her. Her hand had left her satchel and was now gripping her black cloak, as if she was trying to wrap it around herself even tighter. Only one other person in the room kept most of her body covered - Donna, the head of House Benenviento, but even she was a poor example. One woman was a... grieving daughter, the other was not.

“Our enemy, our true enemy, is one Chris Redfield. He plans to strike from the shadows once we are all too exhausted to retaliate.” Her voice was being somewhat muffled by the material covering her face, but it was clear enough that no one needed to listen closely to understand what she was saying. Even if she looked utterly uncomfortable, her posture did not give that away at all. She stood tall. Proud. She did not cower or shift closer to the shadows, no matter how badly she wanted to. In all honesty, it was not a poor effort, but there was one person who could see right through her.

“And you know this how, exactly?” Heisenberg drawled. Moving away from his hammer and sliding his glasses down the bridge of his nose just to take a better look at the woman.

“He is here. In your village. Roaming around your property. Studying you. Something that is only happening because you were much too busy hunting down this stupid, useless man for sport,” the woman snapped, yet kept the volume of her voice relatively low and her tone neutral, clearly not entertained by the man’s behaviour. Her eyes gave out this orange glow with a red tint to it - they flashed whenever Heisenberg tried to address her. Some curses become a blessing though, because the man’s infuriating demeanour made the woman let go of her cloak, her posture straightening once more, but not out of discomfort this time.

“Careful, Angela,” the priestess warned, cutting their argument short, “know your place.” it was posed as a warning, not a threat, but, frankly, Angela had been roaming the Earth for far too long, now, and standing down was not something she was inclined to do. Ever.

“With all due respect, my Priestess, my place is something I am excruciating and painfully aware of.” Angela spat out, her tone making Alcina’s lips curl upwards in acknowledgement for a brief moment. That did sound like the woman she had met on that dreadful party all those years ago. Though she was, obviously, not the same as she once was... in more ways than one.

The room fell silent for the umpteenth time that day and remained that way for a few, uncomfortable seconds. Angela’s chest rose and fell steadily, her eyes never leaving the priestess’s. The awkward, tense moment was broken when the House Beneviento puppet, Angie, coughed once, followed by a small, meek “.... sorry...”. This was going to be a long day.

“I just want my daughter—“ general grumbles of annoyance and a loud ‘shut the fuck up’ came from the people around him. Well. Maybe that would have to come later.

“You cannot be suggesting we let this man go?” the word was practically spat out, which was definitely in character for Lady Dimitrescu, “For once, I agree with my sister,” was what Heisenberg said, earning him a disgusted look from the Countess.

“Maybe I have not made myself clear,” Angela turned to face Alcina for the first time in literal centuries, then. The taller woman wished she could see her face, her fingers twitched momentarily at the thought. Still, she refused to let any kind of emotion seep through her mask, opting to pretend to be completely unfazed by their conversation instead.

The other woman did not seem particularly glad to see her, which sent an uncomfortable feeling through the lady vampire’s chest. This kind of behaviour was not to be rewarded.

.... Surely she had not forgotten her?

“I suggest we move our efforts towards a more fruitful endeavour, such as doing away with the man who wants to eradicate us. It is entirely up to you, however,” her eyes scanned the taller woman’s face. Looking at her eyes, her hair, the laugh lines around her mouth and, then, settling on her lips before looking away entirely.

It was strange, seeing her like this. Her fiery personality was, of course, still there, but before the Countess stood a woman who was merely a shell of who she used to be. She had often thought about the woman who had boldly courted her for all to see. Wondered if she had lived a full life. Happy and free, as she was. Oh, how the mighty have fallen. She looked utterly miserable now, which was a clear indication of just how consensual the experiments that were inflicted upon her were. There they stood. What had once separated them centuries ago seemed to separate them now. One was still a caged animal, struggling to get free.

A pang of something hit Alcina’s chest. That was definitely not a feeling she welcomed with open arms. Some things are meant to be secured under lock and key. Never to be brought up, not once. This was one of those things.

The woman bowed her head slightly, a sign of respect towards the Countess. Having seen that, Heisenberg made a disgusted sound, immediately destroying whatever moment they were about to have.

“Fine. If this one goes, I want the other one,” he turned towards Miranda, “It is only fair,” the smug smile returning to his face.

The Houses argued amongst each other whilst Angela stood on the sidelines watching it all unfold. The dynamic between them seemed about what you’d expect from a bunch of dysfunctional monsters whose Mother was hellbent on calling them a family, though it was borderline comical most of the time. Angela pursed her lips and looked away from the scene with disinterest, her gaze landing on the mortal, instead. Funnily enough, he looked more confused than frightened, which almost made the woman’s lips curl up in amusement. His expression was understandable.

She was pulled away from her thoughts when Alcina threw a particularly petty insult at her brother, her eyes flashing dangerously and her booming voice carrying throughout the entire building. Even after centuries having passed, she remained the most strikingly powerful and beautiful woman Angela had ever seen. She took her time observing her then - the way the veins on her neck became more noticeable when she began raising her voice; the way her nose scrunched up in disgust whenever her brother tried to speak to her; the way she scoffed and waved her hand at him dismissively whenever he made another stupid comment. Even so, she remained positively regal throughout the entire verbal exchange. Angela wished for nothing more than to be a painter, at that exact moment, so she could immortalise the Countess as she saw her. Gazing upon her this freely almost felt like a privilege.

If only she could go back in time, she would have taken her away from that blasted party and her stupid husband and kept her all to herself, though she doubts the Countess would have let her.

Sighing in relief when Miranda put an end to their fighting for the second time that morning, Angela awaited her orders. She could spend the rest of her days admiring the taller woman, the screaming, on the other hand, was beginning to wear her down. That was when the priestess finally made her decision. Ethan Winters was no longer a priority, though he should not be allowed to leave the village as of yet. This earned her several shouts of protest from the man, who ended up being taken away by two of Miranda’s helpers.

“Do not stray from the village, Angela. I need you here,” Miranda commanded, “Alcina, take her with you. You are to await further instructions,” her wings fluttered as she spoke. Her demeanour calm, as always.

Heisenberg’s mouth opened, but before he could say anything, Angela interjected, “Very well. I will find my own way to the Castle,” and with that, she abruptly turned and walked confidently towards the exit. She needed to get out of there as soon as possible. The amount of eyes on her were making her skin crawl.

“She’s going to walk there?”, Heisenberg scrutinised, glaring at the woman as she left. His sister didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he had said, seemingly lost in thought, which was definitely uncharacteristic of her.

“Heisenberg...,” the priestess warned. The conversation was over.

Having realised his mistake, he raised his hands up in defeat, though his eyebrows were still snapped together, either in confusion or irritation.

——-

Angela could technically use her powers to get to the Castle in the blink of an eye, yet saw fit to do the exact opposite of that. Call it stubbornness or whatever else you wish - she saw her powers as entirely unnatural. Animalistic, even. There was not one thing about her transformation that she had come to terms with over the decades. There was no encore, there was no sense of accomplishment. It didn’t make her feel more powerful. No, there was only blood, sweat and tears. That’s all there ever was. No need to romanticise it. You couldn’t, even if you tried.

She looked up, trying to take in the Castle in all its glory. She wondered what the Countess had done to her husband once she was turned, the thought making her purse her lips in amusement. She didn’t seem particularly fond of the man, so her best guess was that he died an excruciating death. Whether or not he deserved it was not up to her to decide. She got exactly what she wanted, in the end. She was officially the Head of the House, no man holding her back and keeping her from achieving her fullest potential. Good. She deserved it. She deserved all of it.

Yet... facing her now, after all that had transpired? Gods forgive her. She didn’t know if she could take it.

She walked steadily towards the main entrance, her fist hovering over the flat surface of the door before finally giving it three, strong knocks. The doors were opened by two, frail looking maids who immediately stepped to the side to let her in. Choosing not to give it much thought, Angela walked through the threshold and looked around. It all looked exactly the same. A pang of nostalgia and sadness hit the woman’s chest, but her reverie was broken when the sound of two loudly beating hearts overcame her senses. Her head turned slowly towards the two maids. Their chests were rising and falling rapidly, meaning they definitely saw her as a threat - she didn’t blame them, all they could see were her eyes, and they were not really welcoming, either. Her gaze traveled along the women’s faces yet settled on their necks as soon and she noticed how they had both been... branded. The bite marks were small, so they were not given to them by the Countess. How intriguing.

“Lady Drăculea,” Ugh, “so nice of you to finally join us,” he sauntered towards her, his hammer resting on his right shoulder, “how was your morning stroll? Not too many corpses on the way, I hope”, he grinned. There were... a lot of corpses, actually. It made her stomach turn, but she would never tell him this, regardless of whether or not he was right. His ego was already too big for his own good.

“Why do you pester me,” she asked, her tone flat and her mouth twitching downwards when she realised he planned on annoying her even further. Thank goodness her face was covered, that way he had absolutely no way of knowing if he was getting under her skin.

He gave out a mocking smile and pressed on even further, “You know, I have just been made aware of the most interesting piece of information,” he toyed with the handle of his hammer and eyed the woman up and down, sizing her up. It was ridiculous. He was ridiculous.

Angela clenched her jaw, her mouth set in a hard line. She moved to the side in an attempt to walk past him, but he would not let her - sidestepping in front of her whenever she tried to leave.

“This isn’t your first time in the Castle. You came here once long before you were turned into one of us,” he stated matter of factly. He turned to the side, then, and used his free hand to wave it around, never letting go of his hammer, “this must really take you back. Say,” he moved closer then, his voice barely a whisper, “on a scale of one to ten, how awful was my sister?” there was his stupid grin again. Angela didn’t have the faintest clue as to how he came to know of her past - Alcina certainly had not told him, so that leaves.... who, exactly?

She heard the distinct sound of heels clicking on marble in the distance before finally deciding to give the Countess’s brother a reply, “I remember being bothered by a pesky, little man that evening and I can certainly relate to that now,” she said, curtly, “this feeling brings me back more than the haunting halls of this Castle ever could”, that was when a flash of white entered her peripheral vision. There stood the Lady of the House, in all her glorious beauty, at the top of the stairs. Her left, gloved hand resting on the railing, she seemed to be accessing the situation, trying to decide whether or not she would step in and get her brother in line. The two, poor maids were still standing on the very same spot, not being allowed to leave until the guest moves away from the front entrance and into the Castle. It was, overall, an incredibly uncomfortable situation.

Heisenberg stared at her blankly at first, but then his face broke into an almost predatory smile. He stepped closer to Angela, who refused to step back, “I am going to tell you this once and only once. Do not test me any further. I am not as patient as the Priestess, dog,” she sneered, her voice dripping with venom. It looked as if she had grown ten inches taller. Maybe she had. It certainly felt like she had. Heisenberg’s grip on his hammer tightened at the final word the woman spat out, the air around them almost crackling from all the tension. Funny how she was several inches taller than him and yet the man was still brave, or bold... stupid enough to irk her. She half hoped he would keep going - she needed to release some pent up anger anyway. Heisenberg’s posture stiffened.

Having had enough of the display of ego measuring, the Countess decided to interrupt their special moment before they ruined her day even further, “That’s enough,” she said, her voice had an edge to it. She was obviously not pleased with their behaviour - they were both just guests in her Castle, after all. She continued then, her voice much more neutral this time around, “Your chambers are this way,” she was speaking to the woman, yet her eyes were trained on her brother. The Countess slowly extended a long arm towards one of the corridors to her right, her movements precise, and her left hand, still resting on the railing, gripped it tighter.

Angela took that as her queue to finally leave Heisenberg behind, glaring at him one last time before moving away from the door, which put the two maids out of their misery and allowed them to leave the spot they were stuck in moments ago, and going up the stairs. Alcina was still standing near the railing and still eyeing her brother, who now had turned to face the two women, craning his neck slightly to look up at them. Angela watched as the two siblings seemed to communicate telepathically. She didn’t fully understand it, but felt as if it was not something she wanted to insert herself into or interrupt.

Her brother grunted something under his breath before tipping his hat at his sister and finally walking out. She was asking — no, telling — him to stand down. He was on her turf, now. No one understands the implications of that better than a dog, Angela thought.

They were alone now and, for someone who was bold enough to flirt with a married Countess at a social gathering her husband hosted, Angela did not seem to be able to meet her gaze. The taller woman enjoyed seeing her squirm, apparently, because they remained silent for a few, long seconds before the brunette was forced to say something to break the ice, “I humbly thank you, my Countess, for your gracious hospitality. It has not gone unnoticed”. Maybe her boldness was not what it used to be, but her courteousness and charm were still very much intact, Alcina noted.

All that came from Alcina was a soft hum. She stood there, accessing the woman before her. It was almost as if she was expecting something from her - Angela, being the chivalrous person that she was, knew exactly what was missing, but chose to ignore it for the time being, “That way, yes?”, she looked down the corridor Alcina had previously extended her arm towards. She secretly hoped she could simply go looking for the room herself. Standing near the Countess was torture - in the best way possible, of course.

“Indeed,” came the sharp response. She was not pleased with Angela’s choices leading up to this moment. The Lady’s lips curled downwards, something the other woman missed, since she was not even looking at her to begin with. A mistake.

Not one more word was said before the raven haired woman turned and began taking long strides towards her guest’s assigned chambers. Angela followed. She always would.

Clenching her fists to keep herself from drifting her eyes downwards and along the Countess’s frame, arriving to her guest room came as a distraction and was therefore a god given gift. Someone please. Put her out of her misery.

She watched as Alcina opened the, now ridiculously small, door, bending over at the waist to enter the room. Angela had to do the same, only she did not bend as low as her host. The room was elegantly decorated, as was expected, and surprisingly clean. She wondered just how many maids Alcina actually had and how long it would take scrape the floors clean, let alone dust each and every room off. She was glad she was not in their shoes, to say the very least.

“I won’t be needing that,” Angela said, flatly.

She could sense the taller woman’s rising anger, but her statement left the Countess confused enough that she ended up allowing the brunette to keep her head, “A mirror,” Alcina deadpanned. It was posed as a question, but when Angela turned her head to look the woman in the eyes, all she saw was utter disinterest.

“Yes. I would rather not,” she clasped her hands at her front and looked around the room. She should really stop doing that. The way she refused to meet Alcina’s eyes when she spoke to her was beginning to anger her. She could tell.

“The tone you have been carrying thus far is extremely ill-advised. You are a guest in��my Castle. Do not make me remind you again,” her voice was as cold as steel, yet the Lady of the House seemed to show leniency for the second time that morning. If Angela were someone else, her head would probably be on a spike in the Castle grounds. Still, abusing her luck any further would be unwise.

The shorter woman’s pulse quickened and she bit on the insides of her cheek to keep herself grounded. Turning to fully face the Lady once more, she began removing the garments that were covering her face. First her hood and then her black mask, letting it settle around her neck, instead.

Alcina’s eyes seemed to immediately absorb the newly exposed features, her gaze scanning her face shamelessly before falling squarely on her lips and on a scar on the left side of her upper lip, which was new to her. Her hair also looked different. Gone was the intricate hairstyle with braids - taking its place was a loose bun. Alcina’s eyes were, once again, the only thing that betrayed her emotions and cracked her mask, for everything else in the woman, from her face down to her posture, was absolutely still and unreadable. Angela was aware of the fact that she looked older. Pale. The agony she felt over the decades written all over her face.

She did not bother to decipher how Alcina saw her now, it was ultimately pointless and she doubted the Countess cared that much about whatever it was that she thought she saw in her. It had been years since the smaller woman had looked at herself in a mirror - she refused to do it ever since her transformation, in fact, which explained her aversion towards them now.

“Forgive me, offending you was not my intention. It never will be,” her eyes were tired, yet she did not break eye contact with the woman this time, “it was poor of me,” she was visibly choosing her words in the most careful way possible, “I simply need to cover it, is all,” she hoped that her choice of words did not anger her host this time around. She awaited her response

...

“Do as you must,” and with that, the Lady left.

Angela sighed to herself and began looking for spare sheets so she could cover the blasted thing and not have to look at it any longer. Thankfully, no one was there to see her as she struggled to place the sheets over the mirror - not wanting to look at herself as she did it made the affair ten times harder. It almost made her laugh, in fact. It was too ridiculous. A low chuckle resonated throughout the room all of the sudden. It... didn’t come from her. Turning slowly, she was met with a pair of bright, yellow eyes, lurking in the shadows.

“It would be easier if you turned them to the side and tucked them behind it,” the young woman said, nodding her head towards the sheets Angela was holding. The brunette stared at her for a few seconds before looking down and taking her advice, turning the sheets, placing them over the mirror - though she turned her face to not look at her reflection - and, after a couple of attempts, managing to tuck them behind the damned thing. Finally.

“Well, would you look at that,” Angela mused.

“That took you way longer than it should have,” the faceless woman deadpanned.

That seemed to catch Angela off guard and she snorted, against her better judgment, before clearing her throat and facing the pair of eyes once more, “I don’t think we’ve met. Angela D—“, she thought about extending a hand to greet the mysterious figure in the shadows, but was interrupted before she could even finish saying her name.

“I know who you are,” she teased, “Mother has told us all we need to know about you,” she continued. That made Angela’s posture straighten. Us? Mother?

“I seem to be at a disadvantage, then. The Countess has not told me your name,” Angela countered. She didn’t feel threatened by the girl, still, she seemed clever. And nothing good can come out of Alcina’s children, surely.

The mystery girl left the shadows then and, curiously enough, she did not seem to resemble Alcina at all, yet the way she carried herself did remind her of the Countess. Her calm, yet reserved demeanour almost too close to her mother’s.

“Bela,” she told the taller woman, her face blank.

“It is an honour to meet one of the Countess’s daughters,” she bowed her head slightly at the girl.

“Mother spoke of you often,” the girl told her, apparently seeming to be more inclined towards skipping the pleasantries, “though I must warn you, do not upset her,” monotoned the daughter, “my sisters and I are not kind to those who do.”

Angela didn’t take it as a threat, though she knew she probably should. Part of her was glad Alcina had such devoted daughters. The other half was amused at the child’s boldness.

“I understand,” she told her, wanting to reassure her. Upsetting the Lady of the House was definitely not on Angela’s list of things to do, yet she didn’t want her daughters to think that she, a guest, planned on harming their mother. Gods forbid.

“Good,” Bela finished. As soon as the word was out of her mouth she all but dissipated in front of Angela’s eyes, leaving in her wake a cloud of small insects who disappeared through the cracks in the walls and left the room. Were the cracks there to allow them to traverse the Castle faster...? Angela stood there for a second, trying to understand what had just happened before giving up and shaking her head slightly. Hopefully this day was done with throwing things at her and actually allowed her to finally rest before being summoned by Miranda.

She was out of luck, it seemed. The nights were always so much harder on her for no apparent reason. At least not one that she was aware of. Before she tried to go to bed and call it a day, she had to ask Alcina for.... a bigger nightdress. It was utterly embarrassing, but thankfully the Countess was kind enough to not make any comments. The maids then gave her a silk nightgown - it didn’t fit her particularly well since the Lady was still taller than her, but it was better than wearing nothing at all.

She was in bed and staring at the ceiling, her fingers intertwined and her hands resting on her chest. She was tired, but knew that having a good nights sleep was not something that would happen any time soon. Even if she did manage to rest her eyes for a couple of hours, the nightmares would certainly wake her up. She longed for the nights, before her transformation, when she simply had to shut her eyes to fall asleep for as long as she wished. Now she didn’t need to sleep as much, true, but the nightmares proved themselves to be much more than a nuisance. They plagued her almost every night. It frustrated the woman beyond words.

Choosing to do something else with her “free” time, she got up, put her, or Alcina’s, slippers on, which were also not the right size for her, and left her room. The Castle was not as cold as it appeared to be, for whatever reason, so discomfort was not something she had to deal with as she explored the halls of a Castle she had already been in... in another life. Something caught her eye, then, as she roamed around, taking everything in. A piano. An expensive looking one, at that. She drew nearer to take a closer look, running her hands over the keys without pressing too hard on them so as to not make any sound. It was clean. Not a speck of dust on it. Those poor maids.

She felt a pair of eyes on her again, but the way the energy in the room shifted dramatically told her this wasn’t one of the daughters.

“Do you play?” Angela asked softly, her fingers still running over the surface of the piano. She heard a low hum first - the actual reply came a few seconds later.

“Yes, though it’s been centuries since I last indulged in it,” said the Countess, her tone was almost matching the other woman’s. It wasn’t soft per se, but it was softer than usual.

“Ah,” Angela let out a bitter, halfhearted chuckle, “the mundane getting left behind once more, yes?”, she rested her hand on top of the piano and turned her head slightly, awaiting the other woman’s response but still not looking at her.

“You speak of the past most fondly,” Alcina’s tone indicated that she disapproved of such notion, though she was clearly trying to not flat out say it. The comment made Angela’s expression close up immediately and she moved to stand next to a big window, trying to distract herself from the unpleasant thoughts creeping up on her. Ah. The moon and her were well acquainted by now.

“If I could go back in time, I would.” she retorted. That was all she wanted to say on the matter, though she doubted the conversation would end there.

Alcina was still watching her from the shadows, her gaze trained on her. The scenario reminded Angela of a sinner confessing the unspeakable to a priest. Funny how the Countess was the priest in that situation. The thought had Angela biting the inside of her cheek to keep herself from smiling. The amusement quickly dissipated from her mind, however, as it often did.

“I have.... regrets. Nothing has meaning now,” the woman confessed, she crossed her arms at her midriff then, her nails digging into her biceps.

“If you feel as if there may not be meaning, then find one and seize it,” the reply was not meant to sting, but it did nonetheless. Of course she would say that. Why wouldn’t she?

“It is easier said than done,” Angela said bitterly. The conversation was beginning to turn sour.

She heard the Lady tsk and then felt her getting closer, her steps almost soundless. She doesn’t hear the telltale clicking of her heels, so she must not be wearing them, “Excuses, excuses,” she was standing right next to her now, though she wasn’t facing the shorter woman. They were both looking out. Facing the moon. Angela found it preferable, that way. Stripping herself of all her walls in front of the Countess was easier if she did not have to stare into her eyes. The shadows served as her shield. The dark making her feel at home.

They stayed in comfortable silence for awhile before Angela broke it “I still feel it,” she had an almost pained expression, her voice no more than a whisper, “withering away, like a dying ember, and rotting inside me,”

That made Alcina turn her head to face her, waiting for her to continue. She watched as the woman’s arms dropped, only for her to begin pinching the area between her index finger and thumb with her other hand. It looked painful.

“My humanity,” Silence. Her jaw clenched and her bottom lip trembled for a brief second, not out of sadness but anger, “she took everything from me” she sneered.

“Mother Miranda only does what is best for us,” Angela wanted to interrupt her before she even had the chance to finish her sentence, but thought better of it. She pinched her hand harder. Alcina noticed.

“Do not say that. It might be what you tell yourself, but do not say it to me. Please.” Her face twisted in both anger and frustration. She was trying her damnedest not to snap at the Countess.

“The world could fit in your hands now. Seeing that as a curse and not a blessing is completely unfathomable,” Alcina coldly said. It was almost as if she was daring the shorter woman to test her patience once more.

“To you,”

“To me, and everyone else,”

Angela knew she could not make the other woman listen. Alcina had everything she had ever wanted - her transformation opened doors for her that would otherwise remain closed. Angela could understand that and was glad that the Lady of the House belonged to no one but herself. Still, that’s not how she saw it. Angela was taken, against her will, and experimented on by a woman whose only goal was to take what made Angela herself, turning her into one those.... things. And for what? What purpose did that serve her? They were all failed experiments. The rejects wrapped around her finger, some more than others. It was hell. How could Alcina not see that?

The point was, Alcina would never understand what she felt. Angela didn’t even fully understand it herself, to be quite honest. All she knew was she was not living. She wouldn’t wish what she was going through on her worst enemy.

Knowing that debating the Countess was a pointless resistance for her, she simply turned to walk away, wanting to put some distance between them. She was so incredibly tired...

... and she would have left, if the other woman hadn’t grabbed her wrist with inhuman speed. Being forced to turn her entire body and face the Countess, she tried to pull her wrist back, which she failed to do. Alcina was unsurprisingly strong and her grip unrelenting. The amount of force she used caused Angela to stumble forward a bit and into her - they were practically breathing the same air now, though the shorter woman had to crane her head upwards to actually lock eyes with the Countess. Her height allowed her to be at eye level with Alcina’s collarbone, but no more than that. It didn’t bother her too much.... no reason behind it.

“Do not turn your back on me,” the Countess warned, a scowl painting her face.

Even in this moment she looked absolutely magnificent, making Angela’s heart squeeze almost painfully in her chest for the first time in years. It dawned on her then, that the Countess was out of her normal attire - she wore a silken nightgown, much like her own, only hers actually fit her, and a sheer, black robe with a floral pattern; her hat was also missing. Closing her eyes to keep her gaze from wandering lower, all she could feel was the woman’s cold, yet impossibly soft, hand wrapped around her wrist.

She knew the tips of her ears would’ve turned pink by now, if they could. Thinking about it only made it worse. Her chest was heaving, her heart hammering in her chest, and their breaths mingled. Angela gulped slightly before opening her eyes again. She desperately wished to caress the other woman’s face, right about now - the light provided by the moon highlighted her features in the most beautiful of ways. She was utterly and completely under the Countess’s spell.

Alcina was still holding on to her wrist and using the same amount of force. Angela’s hand was trapped in between their bodies, if the Countess were to let go of her.... Well.

There was a scowl on her face no longer and she seemed to be struggling to keep her facial expressions under control. Her eyes dropped to Angela’s, now parted, lips, particularly on her scar, causing her own lips to twitch. The brunette noticed and was overtook by longing almost immediately. She needed to get away from the other woman, though she didn’t know how and every second that went by made it harder for her to tell Alcina to unhand her. Maybe she didn’t need to get away. Maybe what she needed was to draw even closer.

She could smell something floral - the other woman’s perfume? Maybe to honor the crest of House Dimitrescu? She could smell the Countess’s perfume, so, yes, they were that close.

Choosing to blame it on how intoxicating the woman’s scent was, Angela’s right hand, the one that was free, slowly moved upwards and towards the taller woman’s face, her fingers ghosting over it, not daring to touch just yet. She was silently asking for the Countess’s consent - she knew she should’ve verbalised it, but all her senses were malfunctioning. All she could see was her. All she knew was Her.

Alcina did not object, though her jaw clenched for a brief second. Angela suspected it was not due to anger, so she took it as her confirmation.

Initially, her touch resembled that of a feather - she feared that if she moved too quickly she would lose the woman just as fast. So far, so good. She ran the pads of her index and middle fingers over the Countess’s cheekbones, her eyes tracing the movement. Then, she ran the tips of her fingers over her nose, her brow; memorising every feature. Her pupils dilated when she traced them over the woman’s lips, which were now bare and without any lipstick. She wondered if she was taking more than she should, but her worries floated away when she heard the taller woman’s breath quicken before she was able to control it once more.

Feeling emboldened, Angela cupped the right side of her face. Alcina was no longer forcefully grabbing her wrist, but gently holding it. The brunette’s hand then fell to the right side of her neck, sliding down to settle on the top of her breast and near her heart.

And there they stayed for awhile. The moon their only witness. If this was a dream, Angela would kill whoever dared to wake her up. It didn’t seem like a dream, though, because what the other woman said next was vocalised much too clearly.

“You have haunted me for years,” she professed, her brow furrowed - she was clearly struggling to come to terms with whatever it was that she was currently feeling. Angela didn’t blame her.

“Good,” it was said absentmindedly, though there was honesty behind it.

Alcina’s chin turned upwards. She seemed... determined, maybe? Or was it something else? Angela was distracted.

Oh, it was definitely determination, for the Countess’s hand, the one that was holding Angela’s wrist, snaked around the shorter woman’s neck and pulled her towards her for their lips to meet.

Angela’s eyes all but bulged out of her head at first, but she quickly regained her senses. She was not a shy lover and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t thought about this specific moment several times throughout the years - she was not going to blow it now. Grabbing a fistful of Alcina’s robe and nightgown, she parted her lips, allowing the other woman to deepen the kiss further. They fit together perfectly - it was as if Angela had finally found the missing piece to her jigsaw puzzle. They had finally come full circle. This is what they should’ve done the first time they met. They both knew this. This was a second chance they were not going to miss.

Turns out the Countess was an excellent kisser, not that it was of any surprise. She did have centuries to practice, after all, but it still made Angela’s heart flutter in her chest, the feeling settling on the pit of her stomach. Damn, that woman. The shorter woman inhaled through her nose sharply when Alcina’s hand, the one that was previously resting on her neck, moved upwards to grab a fistful of her hair - angling her head just so. Angela was more than happy to comply.

Suddenly, Alcina broke their kiss, her lips now pink, causing Angela to lick her own in anticipation. She wanted nothing more than to hear her name leave those lips. Would the Countess even allow herself to do such a thing? Her thoughts were interrupted when the taller woman wordlessly began freeing her hair from the bun it was in. Her eyes burned with lust, but her movements were slow and gentle - they told a different story.

When her hair cascaded down, Alcina’s lips upturned, making Angela’s twist into a smile. They gazed into each other’s eyes then. Alcina’s, in particular, revealing too much. They both knew this. It was too soon.

The tender moment was broken when the black haired woman took notice of how Angela’s nightgown, which was hers - the thought sending a wave of possessiveness through her chest - was beginning to slip off her shoulders. Something dawned on her face then, and she used her left hand to pull one of the sleeves down, fully exposing Angela’s shoulder to the night air. She shivered, which did not go unnoticed by the other woman - her nipples were practically tearing holes through the soft fabric of the nightgown. The Countess locked eyes with her then, and what she saw only confirmed what was about to happen.

Angela’s eyes wordlessly told her ‘Consume me’. And so she did.

———

It seemed that it was possible for Angela to sleep without being plagued by nightmares, after all. Maybe it was due to how exhausted she was. She chose not to overthink it, now was not the time.

“What’s that,” Heisenberg said, flatly, looking to start another argument for the third time that morning. It seemed that not even during breakfast did the man mind his business. It didn’t help how he was sitting directly in front of her, either. Why had Alcina arranged the seats like that?

Angela’s expression seemed to speak for her, because the man felt like he had to explain what he had meant by his question, “That,” he pointed with his fork, “on your neck,”. Ah. Well.

She can’t talk about how the Head of House Dimitrescu picked her up effortlessly, placed her on top of her grand piano and... pushed her over the edge. Several times. She most definitely cannot talk about how, even after not allowing Angela to catch her breath, the Countess picked her up bridal style - the brunette’s legs shaking too much for her to walk - and took her to her chambers to make the shorter woman sing her name again. Over and over again. She certainly will not mention how the woman branded her with her mouth, though never actually biting into the soft flesh, as she allowed Angela to come down from the heights, her fingers still inside her as she did it. No. She couldn’t say any of that.

The woman looked down at her plate to keep her composure before meeting the man’s prying gaze again, “I woke up with it,” she paused to chew her food, not daring to look at anyone else. Alcina was on her left - she could tell she was watching her - and her girls were on her right - also watching her, “Maybe I have began decomposing faster than expected,”. She heard one of the daughters snicker before being forced to keep it down after being kicked under the table - by Bela, she was guessing.

The reply didn’t seem to satisfy Heisenberg, but he choose not to pry, for he sensed that the truth would probably end up disgusting him.

Angela gave Alcina a sidelong glance then, noticing the way she was hiding how the edge of her lips were turning upwards behind her glass.

......

In another life, indeed.

#lady dimitrescu #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x oc #alcina dimitrescu x reader #alcina dimitrescu x oc #(tagging it as x reader so it can reach a wider audience lmk if u want me to change it)#my writing #<3<3<3<3<3<3 #resident evil village #resident evil 8

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foli-vora · 4 years ago

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more than words, pt.3

A/N: Thank you for all the love! 🥺🥰 overwhelmed by the reaction I’ve had to this story! Super excited that so many of you are coming along for the ride! There is a tag list for this—let me know if you’d like to be added! (I apologise if I’ve missed anyone!) I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Pairing: Francisco ‘Catfish’ Morales x f!reader, best friend!Benny Miller x f!reader

Word count: 3.3k

Warnings: swearing, alcohol, general first date nerves that trigger my anxiety x10

pt.1 / pt.2 / pt.4 / pt.5 / pt.6

He was trying to listen. He really was, but God, how many times can you hear the same thing over and over and over again before you start to drift away from the conversation? He knew the answer. He had a very short attention span when it came to certain subjects – he’ll admit that freely – so when you continued to gush about his best friend, his main man, naturally his attention fell to the couple seemingly having an argument by their truck in the parking lot. Hmm… wonder what they’re fighting about? He purses his lips, watching the girl deliver one hell of a slap across her boyfriend’s face and strut away, tears streaking mascara down her face. Cheater. Definitely a cheater.

“Benny? Are you even listening to me?”

His eyes roll back to you, taking in your narrowed eyes and angry chewing as a slice of pizza dangles from your hand. Was he listening? Well, he did for the first few minutes… does that still count?

He finally answers, tone flat and uninterested. “No.”

“Ben.”

He shrugs, gesturing to the scene outside the window with a flick of his head. “Malibu barbie just smacked the shit out of her beau.”

Your head snaps to where he was looking, shamelessly curious. “Cheater?”

“That’s my bet.”

You both fall quiet, watching the strangers play out a scene that really should belong in a cringe-worthy daytime reality show while you chew. It’s almost depressing, how eagerly you both watch someone else’s life seemingly crumble in public. But the longer they scream and cry, the longer they yell and fight, the harder it is to tear your eyes away.

“Shit.” Benny sighs, reclining in the booth and stretching his arms up and behind him once the couple in conflict goes their separate ways. “That was the most interesting thing that happened to me all week.”

“Not me,” you sing with a smile, fondly remembering the phone calls and texts you had been sharing with Frankie the past few days. Benny sighs in irritation, neck cracking as he rolls his head on his shoulders.

“I swear, if you talk any more about Fish, I’m gonna throw myself out of this fuckin’ window.” He levels you with a challenging stare, lips twitching as you eye the glass critically. “I’ll do it, too. Try me.”

Deflating, you sag in your seat and fiddle with the peeling label on your beer bottle, realising with a wave of slight shame that you had been talking about Frankie ever since you sat down at the table. “I’m sorry, Benny. I’m just excited. He seems really cool, and nice, and –”

“Alright then.” He stands abruptly, kneeling on the worn leather to brace a shoulder against the glass panel with a look of severe concentration.

“Okay! I’m sorry, I’m sorry – sit down, you idiot!” Laughing loudly, you tug at his shirt until he sits with a lazy grin and you shake your head. “God, you are such a child, Benjamin.”

He snorts, pinching a cold fry from the basket in the middle of the table and waving it at you. “You love me.”

Grinning, you snatch it from his fingers, and chew it loudly, grinning at his pout. “I sure do, especially when you set me up with your gorgeous fri–”

He groans loudly, “Enough, woman. I’ll throw you out of this fuckin’ window in a minute. Get me another beer.”

“You’re callin’ the wrong friend, angel.” Benny drawls lazily, “I’m no good with these kinds of pep talks.”

“Benny, I’m freaking out, please –”

The car feels small, cramped. The open windows letting in the cool evening air does nothing for you trying to suck in a lungful of oxygen as you pull nervously at your jacket. Have you overdressed? Underdressed? What would he be wearing? You hadn’t been on a first date in months.

“Look, I can almost guarantee you he’s somewhere having this exact conversation with another friend of mine. You’re both stress heads. Just relax – he’s gonna love you.”

You stare vacantly at your steering wheel, swallowing around the lump of anxiety stuck in your throat. “I think I’m gonna puke.”

He snorts in amusement, “Well, if you’re gonna do it, do it now – puking on the poor guy isn’t a first date thing. And don’t forget to rinse your mouth out.”

Leave it to the younger Miller to make you feel ten times worse. “Oh God. Ben –”

“You’ll be fine. Now get out of your car.”

“But –”

“Get. Out. of your car.” He waits, listening intently to the mechanical whirr of your windows as they close, smiling when he hears the loud thump of your car door shutting. “There we go. Now breathe, and get marchin’ – you got this. And don’t call me again – I’m watching a fight. Pay per view isn’t cheap.”

“Right. Sorry. Thanks Benny.”

“Anytime, angel. Have fun.”

You ring your hands as you start walking the short distance to the bar, running through a last-minute check of your appearance. Nothing in your teeth. No stains on your clothes. You fidget with the hem of your skirt, brushing the non-existent dirt from the fabric and making sure it’s not horrifically tucked in to your underwear at the back.

Oh God, your palms are so sweaty. What if he shakes your hand? His hand will slide right off. He’d be mortified. Who even goes for a handshake on a first date anyways? You’re being silly. Everything’s fine. You look great. Did you put deodorant on?

The twisting of your stomach and panicked rush of thoughts thankfully pause when your eyes catch Frankie standing outside the bar, hands buried deep in his pockets and dark eyes flickering around at the passers-by somewhat nervously. When they land on you, the apprehension seems to melt from his shoulders and he grins. Unable to stop the smile creeping on your face in response, you now walk without the sick feeling of anxiety creeping up your throat.

He strides forward to greet you, and for a brief second, you wonder how you should greet him. It’s not like you were strangers, per se, you had been talking on the phone all week, but where did you stand in the physical sense? Certainly not a handshake.

Throwing caution to the wind, you bounce forward and greet him with a hug, hoping to high heaven he doesn’t push you away and call the whole thing off.

He doesn’t.

Inwardly screaming, you melt at the feeling of a pair of strong arms winding around your waist, a small quiet chuckle brushing past your ear. Oh shit, oh fuck… he smells divine.

“Hi,” you mutter shyly when you pull away, a flush of warmth flooding through you from top to toe when he smiles kindly and hovers only a step away.

“Hi,”

You can’t help but admire his features up close; the ones that were lost on the photo Ben had shown you when first trying to convince you into this arrangement. His eyes were a lot darker, tousled curls longer than they had looked when they were hidden under a well-loved hat. A light flush of pink sweeps up his neck and along his cheeks, and you watch it fondly with a wild flutter of your heart.

Okay, you could just stand here all night and stare at him, but that might freak him out a little… maybe try speaking. Talk. Just talk. Say something smart – something stimulating. First date impressions and all that.

“It’s fucking freezing.”

What? No. You did not just say that. Seriously? That’s what had to bubble from your mouth? Are you kidding?

You want to face palm, want to just turn around and march right back to your car with a text to Benny saying ‘thanks, but we can’t be friends anymore’ and just disappear from the face of the Earth. God, he’s going to give you so much shit for this.

Thankfully though, Frankie doesn’t seem bothered by your blurted out statement in the slightest, and even grins, nodding in agreement.

“Yeah, it is.” He watches you shift on your feet, smile widening just a little more at the look of complete horror that had just washed your features before he had spoken, and then half turns, “Shall we?” Oh God, what was that? Pope’s gonna kill him. You’ve got his head in a complete spin and now he’s forgotten Pope’s whole pep talk. Shit. Shit. Be cool. Be cool... what the fuck does ‘be cool’ even mean?

The bar’s warm when you both walk in side by side, Frankie’s hand placed softly on your lower back as he leads you to the bar, and then through to a spare table, nestled out of the way and tucked into the farthest corner after he buys your drinks. He lets you sit first, and you’re pleasantly surprised when he stays close and, instead of sitting opposite you, he sits to your right, knees bumping yours softly under the table.

It’s not until you both sit, quiet and fiddling with your beers while sharing nervous smiles, that you remember something you had been meaning to ask all day.

“Oh. How did Mena’s appointment go?” You ask immediately, recalling his slight worry the day before over her slightly warmer than normal forehead and uncharacteristic crankiness. Your stomach plummets when he shoots you a startled look.

Oh no… have you blown it? Were you not meant to ask about kids on the first date or something? What were the rules for this kind of thing? You’d never dated someone with a baby, you had no idea what was okay to ask and what wasn’t. You guys had literally only just sat down, and here you were, ruining it already. That’s got to be the quickest end to a date, well… ever.

Panic creases your features and you frown in worry, “Sorry, should I – should I not have said anything? I’m sorry, I’ve never –”

“No, no – you’re fine! I just… I didn’t expect you to remember.” And then he smiles. Blindingly. The dread crushing your chest quickly morphs into something sweeter, something that has your heart quickening. “She’s okay – she’s getting her molars. Thank you for asking.”

You smile, turning bashful under the pure admiration shining in his eyes, and shrug lightly.

“It’s alright. I was worried for you.” You’re quiet when you admit it, unsure if that’s something you should be upfront about with only knowing him for such a short period, but he seems to take it in stride, smiling fondly at you and reaching a hand to cover yours softly. The immediate heat from his skin encompasses yours, shooting wave after wave of electric tingles up your arm and straight to your chest.

If your pulse was racing before, it’s downright wild now.

He flushes when your fingers part ever so slightly, letting his nestle in between yours, and then you’re smiling at each other, laughing quietly as the awkwardness all but evaporates.

You talk about everything. Growing up, moving around, Frankie’s time in the military being a pilot. You have so many questions, but pick up on the wave of tension that rolls through him at the mention of flying. For a short moment, you wonder why he didn’t want to talk about such an achievement – being a pilot was incredible, but not wanting to ruin the easy-going atmosphere that had fallen over you both, you leave the topic of flying instantly, and switch for talking about Mena, thankful to see the light return immediately to his eyes as he gushes about his little girl.

“Can I ask a question?” You ask sometime later in the evening, now comfortably closer to Frankie as your legs tangle under the table.

He hums, sipping on his third beer and nodding, “Of course.”

You watch your fingers play with his on the table, before grinning up at him slyly, “Why ‘Catfish’?”

He groans, throwing his head back with a chuckle, and wipes a hand across his face.

“My whiskers.” He finally admits with a playfully defeated sigh. When you frown in confusion, his grin widens, and he scratches his fingers along his jaw and through the patch of facial hair. “The guys used to give me shit because I can’t grow much more than this.” He gestures to his face, rolling his eyes. “Used to say I had whiskers – like a catfish, apparently.” He chuckles, shrugging light heartedly. “It just seemed to stick after a while.”

You’re laughing, and it keeps the smile planted firmly on his face. What a sound.

“Well, it’s an interesting nickname, but I think I prefer Frankie.”

He softens, unable to resist melting closer to you, and nods, “Me too.”

He likes the way you say it… sweetly, softly. He’s desperate to hear it fall from your lips more, in all sorts of ways.

Disappointment floods you both when you notice the late hour, Frankie explaining dejectedly that he should probably go and relieve his babysitter before said babysitter gets too comfortable with his refrigerator and the beer in there. You can hear the fondness in his voice when he tells you about his sitter for the evening, Mena’s tío – another close friend of Benny’s apparently – as you leave the bar, his hand automatically falling to tangle with yours.

“I’m this way,” you point a thumb over your shoulder, fully expecting to say your goodbyes outside the brightly lit bar, but frowning in slight confusion when he merely nods and starts to walk the way to your car.

“Oh – are you parked over here, too?”

He shakes his head, pointing to the complete opposite direction. “No, I’m over there. I don’t want you to walk to your car alone.”

Your insides turn to jelly, smiling to yourself as you grip his hand a little tighter. Thoughtful. He returns your smile, but hates that you seem so surprised by the notion of being walked to your car in the dark. What kind of losers had you dated previously that either didn’t walk you safely to your car?

“Thank you for tonight, Frankie.”

He grins, thumb rubbing soft circles over your knuckles. “Thank you – I had a great time.”

“Next time, it’s my treat.” You say, hoping you weren’t thinking too much of something that wasn’t there. Would he even want a second date? Was he just being polite saying he had a good time? Is that what people said before never calling them again?

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie was having a hard time reigning in the enthusiastic excitement that had flooded through him the second you had spoken. You wanted another date? With him? He had to mash his teeth together to stop the eager grin threatening to break his face completely in half. Thank God he hadn’t blown it. You were… God. You were fucking incredible. He owed Benny – big time.

“I can deal with that,” he eventually agrees, face warm and giddy at the prospect of taking you out again.

You turn and envelope him in a hug when you reach your car, breathing in one final lungful of whatever delicious aftershave he had used, and smile to yourself against his shirt when he folds his arms around you, a hand cupping the back of your head to keep you pressed tightly against him.

Pulling back to say one final goodbye, you’re struck by how close his face seems, eyes flicking across his face before meeting his dark ones.

Suddenly trapped in a gaze that had a fire licking up your spine, your breath goes in a stuttered exhale. Rough fingertips trace your jaw, and then you’re holding your breath entirely as he leans in closer. Anticipation kicks in, heart thumping through your chest as he closes the distance much slower than you would like, and you fight away the wave of impatience that screams at you to just push forward and kiss him.

You don’t expect him to stop however, only a breath away from your lips, and you panic for a small second, wondering if you’re doing something wrong, but when he murmurs a quiet question, it takes all the strength in your legs to not fall to the fucking ground in a lump of melted goo.

“Can I kiss you?”

God yes. Please.

Unable to stop the shy smile that tugs at your lips, you try not to nod too eagerly and definitely fail miserably. You want this, more than what you’ve ever felt with anyone else. Frankie had you feeling like a giddy teenager with a huge crush and you were desperate to feel more of it, to see where it goes and what it could develop into.

At your nod of approval, he moves in the rest of the way, hand moving to cup the side of your neck below your ear, and he sighs lightly when your soft lips finally meet his. The kiss is tender, warm, and does nothing to soothe your raging pulse. He can’t hear your heartbeat, can he? God, can you hear his? He briefly worries, but when your lips move against his, his mind blanks.

His moustache tickles your lip, nose bumps gently with yours. Your hands find his chest, fingers gripping at the soft material, and for a moment it feels like you two are the only ones in existence, floating in a hazy whirl of space.

You take a minute to open your eyes when he eventually pulls away, and when you do, you find him gazing at you with a shy smile and a rosy flush across his cheeks. Lashes fluttering as you blink, you try to get a hold of your heart beating heavily against your ribs while your lips tingle from the aftershocks of his kiss.

Holy shit.

Before you can even think it through, his shirt tangles in your scrunched fist and you pull him back to you, replanting your lips against his with a desperate urgency he meets head on and returns eagerly. His hands, previously gentle, now grip at your waist, squeezing the flesh greedily as you let him walk you back into the side of your car. The metal is cold, even through your jacket, and you arch into him, moaning softly when his tongue traces your lip.

Your knees buckle when his tongue tangles with yours, and he presses you harder into the car to stop you dropping.

“Holy shit.” He breathes huskily after separating, lips widening into a grin when he sees you mirroring his breathlessness. You giggle softly, the fire roaring in your stomach turning into an affectionate warmth that floods your system when he brushes his nose along yours tenderly. “You’re so beautiful.”

“Stop.” Your smile turns shy, teeth digging into your lips as he chuckles again, dark eyes shining. He watches you wrangle your breathing into something semi normal, glad he wasn’t the only one that got swept up and carried away with the moment.

He traces your cheek, planting one more, less hungry and more affectionate, kiss to your lips.

“Goodnight, mystery girl.”

“Goodnight, Frankie.”

He backs away, face split as he smiles, eyes admiring you before he turns and starts to meander away to wherever he was parked, turning to look at you over his shoulder every few steps. You climb into your car, grinning at the final wave he sends you before disappearing around the corner.

Finally alone in your car, you let out the disbelieving chuckle you’ve been keeping in all night, face feeling hot as the aftereffects of such a great date rests pleasantly in your stomach, mind running through every little moment of the night. Starting your car, you start the drive home, unable to stop touching your lips every so often, insides clenching at the memory of his lips moving against yours.

Tags: @anu-simps @seasonschange-butpeopledont @withasideofmeg @you-got-me-starry-eyed @emilykjh @peterhollandkait @sara-alonso @starlightsearches @bookishofalder @empress-palpat1ne @shadowolf993 @rosiefridayrogersunday @canyonmirrors @eoz-stuff @blackonemasie @layniapetrovnaaa @alberta-sunrise @goldielocks2004 @betterthanbucky @linkpk88 @afootnoteofhappiness @livilottie

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales x you #francisco morales x reader #francisco morales x f!reader #francisco morales x you #frankie morales #francisco morales #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal #triple frontier #triple frontier fic #benny miller x reader

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ablogthatishenceforthmine · 3 years ago

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What I liked and Didn’t like about 3x07

Liked

Kory and Kom Dynamic: I am really liking what they are doing with this. It is the most nuanced and emotional affecting stuff of the episode, and of the season. Of all the dynamics in this season, there’s is the one with the best development. I found Kom’s story to be really heartbreaking, and I completely buy that Kory would start to come around on her. I do think Kom is telling the truth. I think in these moments she is being sincere and doesn’t have a larger plan at play. If she does betray Kory, I think it will not be a planned things, but something that may come up in a moment. And I love seeing Kory reckon with her this season, and past mistakes that she is made. I found it incredibly touching that Kory owned up to not being there for Kom in the past, and says that she is going try to do better now, and give Kom a chance now. Her telling Kom to join the team and giving her her suit was just really touching and heartwarming, and most of all, it felt earned. Their relationship has a real arc to it, and i am excited to see where it goes to from here. I know a lot of people are disappointed that Kom isn’t really a villain (although she may yet be, we don’t know), and I get that. But I think I might like what they are doing with them now better. It’s more intimate and character driven. What I will say, what I am upset is Kory not having her own villain to face (if Kom in fact never becomes a villain). And I definitely feel that loss bc it would be great for Kory’s character to have a villain that is so personal to her, where the conflict between them would be the emotional drive of the main plot of the season. I don’t have much hope that they will do that in later seasons with another villain for Kory. But if they would do both, that would have definitely been the ideal for me.

Kory making mistakes: And big ones at that! We know that she made mistakes in the past with her sister, and it’s great to see her recognizing that and growing. It may come back to bite her, but I think giving Kom and a chance and trying now to be the sister that she never was is the right thing for Kory to do. Regardless of outcome, I think this is something Kory needed to do for her own growth and morality. I also like that she makes a huge, terrible, deadly mistake in this episode by bringing the mobster’s son to her. The scene where the mob lady killed her own son was shocking and upsetting. And Kory is partially responsible for his death. Which i’m glad for. She was the one who brought him here, even though he didn’t want to. And though Kory was nothing but honest with him, there was some element of manipulation to her convincing him to go to this mother. It’s important that characters make mistakes that have consequences, and i’m glad they are doing this with Kory. What happened was truly horrifying. I’m also glad we get to see Kory crossing the moral lines, first with working with the mob, and then killing the mob lady out of anger. These moments make her a richer, more well-written character.

Titans have a win!: The show needed the titans to have this victory. For 6 episodes, Red Hood and Crane have been one step ahead of the Titans, always meeting them. Stories need rises and falls, peaks and valleys. It needed the titans to have a victory to give the plot momentum and more dramatic tension. So this was great! Although I have no doubt that there

51% Idea: I also really liked the 51% idea and the show exploring morally complex situations, and having characters struggle to find where the line is. You can see this in Kom’s story, in Kory teaming up with the mob, and in Dick and Barbara using oracle.

Didn’t Like

Not seeing chaos in Gotham: We get told that Gotham is in chaos, but we don’t actually see it. We are told about the attacks, but don’t see them. This is a major problem in conveying the stakes. We know the titans are trying to stop Gotham from tearing itself apart, but we don’t actually see Gotham tearing itself apart. We are being told the stakes instead of feeling the,

Confusion about drug: Seeing gotham and the attacks would also help the effects of the drug more clear. We are told about the effects, but don’t really see them. I also have some questions about this drug. So it apparently turns normal people violent, where they can’t help but attacking other people. So are they completely out of control? Do they have any control over who they attack, or is it just whoever’s near? Is this the same version of the drug that Jason is on? Because he doesn’t seem out of control. Violent yes, but his violence is targeted. He doesn’t have the urge to just attack whoever is near him. He seems to have some control over his violent impulses. Is it the same for the others? Or is Jason’s drug different. This may get cleared up later, but I think it would have been better explained in this ep.

Exposition/procedural elements: A lot of time is spent this episode, and this season, just figuring things out. Figuring out locations of things, etc. But they are often figured out through such boring methods, such as computers, or going to a warehouse where nothing much happens. It’s very boring! Just too much time spent trying to learn info! Kory’s plot showed how to do this better, going to the mob is a more interesting awya to find out info than just looking it up in computer. It just feels like way to much energy and time is spent trying to figure out pieces of information, and not enough time spent on the titans taking action after learning information.

Dick and Barbara: Look I’m a dickkory shipper, so I was never gonna like Dickbabs. But man, I think there relationship is poorly written. I wasn’t even upset during the final scene where the kissed in the present day because I just found it so boring. The romance stuff between them feels awkward and forced. They have more of a friends chemistry than a romantic chemistry. So yeah, I just think the romance stuff between them is flat and boring. And their scenes are so repetitive! It’s just the same scene over and over and over again. They have a difference of opinion, they argue, Barbara tells Dick no or to go home, Dick doesn’t listen, and does whatever he wants to do anything, often behind Barbara’s back. Rinse and repeat. Over and over again. I thought that after 3x06, this would at least change. That we would see them work together better. But no, it’s still the same thing over and over again. It’ just really repetitive, and is getting tiring and boring. And their romance feels like it’s just going through the motions.

The writing of Barbara’s character: I like Barbara’s personality and she does have an internal life that the show cares about. The show explores her thoughts, feelings, issues, and point of view. Except the mechanism through which this is being explored is her relationship with Dick. She only just barely exists outside of him. She has her own drives and goals and baggage, but again it is only being conveyed through her relationship with Dick. She doesn’t interact with any of the other characters, except for that one scene with Kory. So much of her character revolves around Dick. It’s very disappointing. And I want more than anything for her to interact with and form bonds with the other titans. Even in this episode, when the team is celebrating together, she mostly converses with Dick in the few lines she has during that scene. Another problem I have with her character is that she is getting focus over some of the other characters. She is the third most prominent character this season (after Dick and then Kory). And it’s frustrating that this is the case when she is most likely a one-season character and there are long-lasting characters (Gar and Conner) that are getting shafted. Gar doesn’t have an arc (at least so far), and Conner’s arc is being minimized, only playing out in these a few, small moments per episode.

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autisticdindjarin · 3 years ago

Text

Sleep It Off

(AO3)

Summary: “You’re a kriffing mess,” Boba declared. Mando’s eyes opened again at that, all wide and teary, brow crumpled. Rating: T Pairings: Din Djarin x Boba Fett Warnings: Drunkeness, Vomiting Notes: For Bobadin Week 2021, Day 3- Protectiveness/Caretaking I ended up getting a new job and it's been exhausting so this isn't edited as well as I wanted it to be but. Heh. Better than nothing, yeah?

(Masterlist)

↪

Boba cursed under his breath as he eyed the tipsy Mandalorian, being held up halfway with his own feet, and halfway with Fennec’s help. He reached forwards immediately, taking the brunt of the weight from his partner.

“Where did you find him?” Boba shook his head, grimacing as Mando leaned into his hold. Fennec sighed, wiping her hands on the tops of her thighs, looking unimpressed with everything as usual.

“Cantina in Mos Eisley. Trading stories with some mechanic. Don’t know how much he’s had.”

“Helmet?” Boba asked, and Fennec handed it over. It was strange, seeing Mando without it most of the time now. The man seemed to be avoiding it, yet he took it everywhere, in hand.

Mando remained silent where he leaned against Boba, though one hand was strangely running across his shoulder, almost admiringly. Fennec looked between the two of them and shrugged.

“I’ll let you handle this one,” she said with a slight smile, and Boba didn’t have the time to respond before he was facing a closed door. He grumbled under his breath, then turned his attention to Mando.

The man was a sorry sight, one that tugged at heartstrings. Boba guided him gently to the bed, keeping Mando from falling over when he attempted to sit down. He plopped on the bed instead, feet flat on the floor and back flat on the mattress, arms sprawled out. His dark eyes were slightly unfocused, but they didn’t leave Boba’s form.

“I’m getting you some water,” Boba groused, shaking his head. He was startled when Mando’s hand clutched at his, the grip strong.

“No, I can’t …. Stay?”

Boba looked back at him. Mando’s bottom lip was jutted out, his eyes big and shining, looking like he was about to cry.

Fuck, but this was pathetic. Boba let out a huff, but was gentle when he extracted Mando’s hand from his wrist.

“I’ll be right back. You really need water, or you’re going to be cursing yourself out even more tomorrow. I’ll be right back,” he said again as a reminder. Mando seemed to consider it, then nodded, a curl of hair falling into his face. Boba hesitated before reaching over, brushing it back, and Force be damned, those pleading eyes were going to be the death of him if he kept looking.

So he turned away, intent on his task of finding water for the intoxicated Mandalorian awkwardly situated on his bed.

He was back within minutes, and was surprised that Mando hadn’t passed out on him; Instead he had sat up and crossed his legs underneath him, making a pretty picture where he was perched on the mattress. Boba raised a brow as he sat beside him, and handed him the glass, hoping but also kind of not hoping that he wouldn’t need assistance.

Mando gulped down the water too fast.

Boba cursed as it came back up immediately on his floor, barely getting his foot out of the way in time. The glass dropped onto the bed and Boba reached over, his hand cupping the back of Mando’s neck and holding him steady as he got sick all over Boba’s rug.

Boba didn’t care much for the rug anyway.

When he was done, Mando’s eyes met Boba’s. They were watery and red, dark bags beneath them, his skin clammy to the touch and ashen. Boba sighed, running his hand over Mando’s forehead. Mando made a strange little sound, almost something like longing, and closed his eyes, leaning into Boba’s hand that now cupped his jaw.

“You’re a kriffing mess,” Boba declared. Mando’s eyes opened again at that, all wide and teary, brow crumpled.

“‘M sorry ….” Mando said, on the verge of tears. Boba hissed, shaking his head and rubbing a hand over his neck, fingers massaging gently at the base of Mando’s skull.

“No better place to be a mess than here. You’re safe,” Boba assured, hoping to get that point across at least. Mando relaxed under his hand, his shoulders slumping forwards. Boba took a breath, just watching him for a long moment.

“We should get you out of that armor, Mando, get a bit more comfortable,” he squeezed gently at Mando’s neck. Mando glanced over at him, and reached a hand that found its way to Boba’s kneecap.

“Name’s Din,” he said, his voice nearly whispered. Boba’s brow furrowed.

“Right. We’ll see if you remember this tomorrow. If not, I’ll pretend to have forgotten it.”

This seemed to immediately distress Mando … Din … who lurched forwards, his grip tightening on Boba’s knee.

“No. No - I want you to know. Want you to know me,” he said, his proximity close enough that it would make Boba uncomfortable with anyone else. Instead Boba clicked his tongue, patting Din on the shoulder.

“We’ll talk about it tomorrow … Din,” he added his name with a small smile on his lips, and Din smiled back at him, eyes that had previously looked so sad now sparkling over at him.

“Okay,” Din said, in an almost dreamy tone. Boba shook his head at him.

“If I get you more water, will you drink slow and keep it down?” he asked, leaning forwards to get better eye contact from him. Din nodded at that, very seriously.

“Right. I’ll be right back … again,” Boba snorted, making sure Din was in a position where he’d less likely risk falling off the bed.

He made his way to the fresher, grabbing a towel to clean up Din’s mess, and filled another glass with water. As an afterthought, he rooted around in a drawer, grabbing a spare ultrasound cleaner for teeth.

When he returned, Din was right where he left him, watching him walk back in intently. Boba hid a smile, sitting down beside him again. This time, he held the glass of water while he encouraged Din to drink, making sure he went with sips instead of gulping the whole damn thing down. Satisfied with half a glass, he put it to the side, handing Din over the pseudo-toothbrush.

“Think you can handle this? It’s a spare. Didn’t figure you’d wanna wake up with aftertaste. I always hated that.”

Din nodded at him, and Boba chuckled. A man of few words. He started on cleaning his teeth while Boba cleaned the mess off the floor - good enough until morning, at least. He’d have one of the cleaning droids give the room a shine while he worked.

Din finished with his teeth before he was done, and the ultrasound cleaner found its place on the nightstand alongside the half empty glass of water.

“Right. Now, you wanna get that armor off for the night, or do you enjoy sleeping in metal?” he asked, approaching Din again, who was looking more and more like he was about to pass out as time passed. Boba would like to get the beskar off of him before that happened, ideally.

“Yeah,” Din rasped out in that gravelly voice of his, his stare intent on Boba. Boba faltered just slightly before he reached over, helping to begin the process, starting with the pauldrons. By the time they were finished, Din was slipping into sleep. Boba smiled and got the armor tucked away safely underneath the bed, well guarded between the two of them. He reached over to brush the curl that had fallen over Din’s forehead away again. Din’s eyes snapped open, and their gazes were drawn together for a long moment.

“Stay,” Din breathed out, sitting up again, his hand reaching for Boba’s. Flustered, Boba chuckled, turning his head away.

“I’m fine, don’t worry-” he cut himself off as he found Din’s face inches from his. Gulping, he looked into Din’s eyes, which were pointed towards his lips. Just as he opened his mouth to speak, his lips were covered with Din’s, his jaw cupped by a calloused hand. In shock, Boba immediately responded by kissing back, his hand moving to curl into the back of Din’s hair. But he was snapped out of it soon enough when Din pressed closer, trying to wriggle his way into Boba’s lap. Boba pulled away, pressing a hand against Din’s chest as his own heaved.

“Steady - I-” his own voice was tangled up and hoarse now as he tried to collect all the thoughts rushing through his head. “You’re drunk, Mandalorian. Let’s … save this for tomorrow, yeah? If you even remember,” Boba sighed, just gazing at the man in front of him, drinking in the sight of his mussed hair, heaving chest, and flushed face.

Din blinked at him a few times, then nodded slowly, eyes falling shut with a goofy grin on his face. Boba near giggled at that, his hands soothing the mussed hair back as he guided Din back on the bed, tugging the sheets over him.

“Sleep it off,” he added again, not unkindly. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

As he turned the lights off and settled down onto the nearby couch for the night, Boba slowly ran his fingers over his lips.

@bobadinweek

#bobadin #bobadinweek2021 #boba fett #bobin #din djarin #the mandalorian #myfic #mine

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just-my-fandom · 4 years ago

Text

Rocky Road P8 (JJ Maybank x Routledge! Reader)

Part 8

Summary; Reader and JJ make up. After going fishing with Ward, John B reveals the truth suddenly to the reader about their father. The chief is now dead. John B and Sarah run away.

Warning(s); Mentions of death, mentions of getting sick (vomit)

A/N; PLEASE READ. There’s a lot of scenes I really didn’t feel like writing, such as the whole death of the chief, etc. So, I combined episodes 8, 9, and 10 together. So technically, this is the last part. But I will include an epilogue

Taglist; @bibliophilewednesday @sexualparkour @jjpouggues @poguestyle17

“So we’re okay?”

It’s the morning after. You and JJ sit on opposite edges of the hot tub, legs knee deep in the warm water.

“Yeah,” Your lips tilt in a small smile, JJs arms propped on his knees as his hands take your own, “Only if you promise to stop acting psycho,”

“Oh, totally,” JJ nods, releasing one of your hands to run it through his hair, “If me getting super drunk and having a terrible hang over last night doesn’t change me, then I don’t know what will,”

“J,” You warn, JJ huffing a short laugh before he nods, leaning forward so your faces were nearly inches apart,

“I promise,” He murmurs, raising his hand to cup the back of your neck and pull your lips against his, “Because I love you. And I’m not going to let my stupidity make me lose you,”

“Good,” You hum, raising your own hands to his hair, his body leaning forward enough to where he steps into the hot tub, arms wrapping around your waist,

But before he can pull you into the water yourself, Kiaras call to your brother causes you to pull away and look over your shoulder, JJ looking around you to watch as John B stomped across the yard of your home with a stone look on his face,

“John?” You call as Kiara did, sliding off the edge of the hot tub to slide on your flats, watching your twin brother move inside the Chateau, “JB,”

“Uh, what’s that all about?” Pope asks, as you shrug and move up the steps to the front porch, pausing as John B desperately searched for something,

“You all right, man?” Pope questions, “What’s up?”

“What’re you looking for?” Kiara rushes, irritated at the silence your brother gave to the group,

You watch as John B pulls the hand gun from under the couch cushions, “John B, what do you need the gun for?”

“Talk to us-,” JJ demands, and you move forward as soon as John B shoves JJ away, onto the pull out mattress,

“John B, what the fuck are you doing?” You shout, moving after John Bs retreating form to the backyard, “If you’re still mad at JJ from yesterday, we’re fine! We made up!”

“I don’t give a damn about the two of you,” John B grumbles, and you pause to watch him climb on JJs motorbike,

“Dude!” JJ shouts, John B finally turning with an angry snarl,

“Ward knows about the gold!” He shouts, and you huff a breath, heart nearly stopping at his next words, “He killed dad,”

“What?” You whisper, JJ quick to move up to you as John B sped away, JJs hand at your upper arm.

Your eyes leave John Bs retreating figure to look at JJ, hand resting at your stomach as you watched JJs mouth move, but no words were heard,

“Baby,” JJ calls, lifting a hand to caress your face as you swallow, thickly, “Hey, hey. Look at me,”

Quickly, you shake your head, exhaling sharply as Kiara moved up next to JJ, “She’s going to be sick-,” Kiara and Pope watch, alarmed, as you duck behind the parked van, JJs hand running down your back as you cough, violently,

“Hey, alright,” JJ murmurs, pulling you into him as his gaze shifts up to his other friends, watching Pope run a hand over his head and look in the distance where John B had left.

“Okay, I’ve never seen John B like that. We should honestly be going to the cops,” Kiara speaks from her spot at the front end of the HMS Pogue, your brows pinched as you look at her,

“And what would we say, Kie? Ward Cameron killed Big John? They’re going to think it’s some- fucking grieving mechanism for me and John B,” You huff, face hot and eyes puffy,

“They’re not gonna believe us if we tell them anything revolving Ward,” JJ states, and Pope raises his goggles,

“Hey, I see Ward,”

“I don’t know if I should be glad he’s alive for John Bs sake or not,” You mutter, tossing a rock that was in the boat into the water,

“Looks alive to me. Let’s go,” Pope orders, and you look up in confusion,

“Wait. What?”

“Obviously Mr. Cameron is fine, and even if John B was here, he isn’t now, okay?” Pope shakes his head, “Plus, I have the biggest, most important moment of my life in six hours,”

“Yeah, well, our friend is in trouble,” Kiara states, Pope shrugging his shoulders,

“I’m in trouble! Guys, I haven’t been home in three days. My dads probably put all my shit on the street by now,”

“So, you’re just gonna bail?” Kiara asks, and you look at JJ with pinched brows so the blonde moves up, protectively, “This is about friendship, this is about Pogues for life!”

“Where were you when Big John went missing? Huh?” Pope hisses, your eyes watching as Kiara glanced at you, “You weren’t there. You weren’t there for John B, or Y/N,”

“Guys,” You plea, pressing yourself into JJs front, “Kie, just let him go home,”

“No, I want her to remember,” Pope snarls, finger jabbing at Kiara, “Remember your kook year? You forgot about us. Y/N lost her best friend. Her dad goes missing and you werent there for her,”

“Give me a break!” Kiara demands, shoving Popes front so Pope shoved her back, JJ quick to release you and move between his two friends,

“Guys, cut it out!” JJ orders, your arms wrapping around yourself as you blink away the burn in your eyes, “If I’m the one mediating then we’ve hit rock bottom,”

“Let’s just go home,” You murmur, JJ looking at you as you move to the wheel of the boat,

“I’ve got it,” JJ soothes, pointing to the front end of the boat where Pope departed to. “Pope, we’ll drop you off,”

You inhale a deep, slow breath, raising your hand to rub at your eye in exhaustion.

“John B, you have to go,” You stare at your twin brother. Peterkin was dead. John B was framed for her murder. “I’m sorry I was such an ass. To you, and to Sarah, but I can’t let you go to jail, for a murder you didn’t commit,”

“You weren’t an ass,” John B forces himself to chuckle, attempting to pull a smile to your face. He fails. “You were being a protective, annoying sister,”

You huff your own laugh, licking your lips, “I’m serious, John. Get Sarah, and go,”

John Bs movements are swift. His arms slide around you in an embrace, tightening around you when hearing your sniffle.

“I love you sis,” He mutters, “Seriously,”

You lean back, hitting his chest, “I love you too. Dick,”

You step away, watching John B step onto the boat JJ lended to John B. “Remember dude,” JJ steps up, arm sliding across your shoulders, “Brownsville. We’ll see you in Mexico in two months,”

“Got it,” John B smiles, watching you slide your arm behind JJs back and take his hand with your free, “Take care of her, JJ,” JJ glances down at you, “I mean it,”

The boat pulls off with a heave. Your eyes blur, looking up at JJ with a smile that matched his.

“Hands up!”

Twirling around, you barely catch a glimpse of Shoupe raising his gun before JJ pushes you behind him. In unison, the group of four raise their hands, your eyes wide,

“Where the hell is he?” Shoupe asks, roughly, “Where the hell is he?!”

“JJ,” He continues, “I see you’re living up to your name. Pope? How about you? This isn’t a fucking game!” Shoupe eyes shift to yours, “Your father would be really disappointed in you young lady,”

“Dont ever bring up my father,” You step up, one of JJs arms dropping to grasp your waist, but immediately pulls it back when Shoupe pins your hands behind your back.

“Let’s fucking go,”

“Sit down. Don’t move,” You look up from your spot inside the tent. Cops, everywhere. You felt sick again.

JJs hand takes yours, squeezing enough to guide your attention to him, where his blue eyes meet your own. JJ shifts your intertwined hands to his lap, thumb brushing across the back of your hand.

You flinch at the rough crack of thunder.

“We lost them,” Shoupe mutters, almost as soon as your ears began to ring. Like the day prior, you see everyone’s mouths moving, but no words.

Except JJ. “What do you mean you lost them?” JJs hand leaves yours as he stands, and you suddenly zone back in, “You had them on radio!”

“The storm cut out their signal,” Shoupe sighs, dropping the talkie in his hand. His head shakes, “We lost them,”

JJ is first to turn to you. Just as quick, your ears begin to ring, not hearing him call out to you. Lost them. Lost, as in, dead? Like Big John?

“Baby,” JJ tries, again, the large group watching as he knelt in front of where you still sat and raised his hands to your face, “Hey, can you hear me?”

JJ is forced to watch as you gasp in a deep breath. With a shattered sob, you nearly fall forward, JJs arms quick to catch you and pull you up into his arms.

“He didn’t do it,” You heave, eyes wide despite the tears that blocked your vision, “He didn’t- didn’t kill anyone,”

JJs arms tighten around you, before he slides his hands back to your face a second time, thumbs attempting to wipe the tears from your cheeks. Forehead against yours, he exhales a shuddered breath as you began to break down.

“Sweetheart-,” Kiaras mom barely leans away from Kiara to extend her hand to you, your head shaking as your eyes finally pinch shut in defeat,

“No,” You whisper, JJs own face crumbling, “No, no. JJ-?”

JJs arms slide around your shoulders, ducking his nose into your hair as your own grab at his button up, feeling Kiaras mom press herself behind you in another wall of comfort.

First Big John. Now, John B and Sarah?

A/N; Well that ended like shit, lol. Again, yes. I did skip a lot of scenes revolving the last three episodes. But honestly? They were unnecessary. But leave ALL feedback as you can, and I hope, pray that you enjoyed this story. It’s been a pleasure.

#jj maybank drabble #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank x reader smut #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #kiara carrera #pope heyward #john b routeledge #sarah cameron #ward cameron

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thesightstoshowyou · 4 years ago

Note

Literally anything from that prompt list with Bo would send me over lol.... but specifically 26, 24 and 48 together 💀💀💀

-the-slasher-flies 🔪💕

I also got, "You look real pretty when you cry,” for Bo so I’m going to combine all these into one, filthy fic. I went off the rails with this one. Please thank my husband for all the beautiful ammunition for this story ;)

Territorial

Bo Sinclair x F Reader (NSFW)

Warnings: Dubcon, violence, blood, minor character death, heavy degradation, slapping, daddy kink, biting, marking, spanking, belt, hair pulling, choking, spitting, possessiveness, creampie

The second the laugh leaves your mouth, you know you’re fucked.

Bo had asked you to meet one of the travelers at the gas station, to keep them busy while he delt with the others. The guy who sauntered through the door had proven to be funny, charming, and handsome; a horrible combination when Bo’s ego was added to the equation. Shamelessly, he flirted, and you couldn’t help but smile at the attention.

Then…. Then he’d made a joke the second Bo had strolled into the shop and you couldn’t stop the surprised giggle that bubbled up your throat. The color drains from your face when you spot the blue mechanic’s suit out of the corner of your eye. Bo knows when you’re faking a laugh and this wasn’t one of those times.

He fixes you to the spot with that furious stare you’ve come to know so well, so intimately. You bite your lip, apologizing with your eyes, but he’s having none of it. The young man catches sight of your terrified face, turns to you, asks you if you’re okay. He reaches for your arm, maybe to give you a comforting squeeze. He doesn’t see Bo stalking up behind him.

Steel sinks into the man’s neck so easily you would think his skin is made of butter. Thick crimson wells up around the blade, pours down his chest, spills from his lips, parted with shock. His eyes go wide and he drops to his knees, clutching fruitlessly at the lethal wound. You slap your hands over your eyes, turning away, but Bo clicks his tongue in disapproval.

“Uh uh, baby girl, yer gonna watch,” he growls, wrenching your hands away from your face, spinning you around, holding you by the jaw, and forcing you to look as the life drains from the man’s sweet, hazel eyes. Cigarette scented breath wafts across your face as Bo whispers in your ear, “Yer gonna watch what ya’ done, yeah? This is all you, baby.”

The man chokes on his own blood, coughs, splutters, then lands face down with a soft thud that hangs heavy in the air. Crimson pools around him as he finally falls still. You can’t breathe, your chest heaving, but refusing to pull in oxygen. You’ve never seen anyone die before.

Bo shoves you up against the counter, forces your eyes to his, cruel smirk pulling at the corner of his lips. You try to apologize, stumbling over your words, anything to save you from what comes next.

“B-Bo—

“Shut up, slut. I don’t remember askin,’ huh? You were gonna let that little prick fuck ya’, looked like.”

“N-No! I wouldn’t—

“Oh, no? Ya’ wouldn’t? Does this stupid little whore actually remember who owns her?”

“Bo, please—

You gasp when he delivers a stinging slap to your cheek, hard enough to leave your skin angry and red in its wake. He growls, low and dangerous, “Maybe if I punish ya’, it’ll help ya’ remember who ya’ belong to next time.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, instead gripping you around the waist and tossing you over his shoulder. Bo heads toward those dreaded basement steps. You haven’t been down there again since your first days in Ambrose. You’d hoped to never see it again.

Bo kicks the door open, drops you unceremoniously on the filthy mattress. The sent of blood, fear, and Bo’s musk billows up around you as you shrink back against the wall, memories of how you’d met brought to the surface by the metallic reek clinging to the walls.

“Do not fuckin’ move,” he orders, pointing a finger at your face. Without a backward glance, he strides across the room. Your eyes dart to the open door, but you squash down the desire to flee. He will catch you. He always does.

A noisy clatter draws your gaze back to the other end of the room. Bo turns, another knife clutched in his palm. He chuckles, relishing in your dread when you visibly tremble. Crossing the room, he kneels at the edge of the bed and beckons you over with a wave of the blade. Obediently, you crawl to him, sitting back on your heels and awaiting further instruction.

“That’s a good girl fer not runnin’. Kinda dumb though, I mean, I gave you an openin’.” He laughs, drags the chilly point of the blade down your cheek, across your jaw, down your neck, pressing it lightly to the exact place he’d buried the other knife into the man upstairs. He hums quietly, strokes your other cheek with his bloody fingers.

“I can’t wait to put bruises all over that pretty skin.” You shiver at his whispered words, moisture pooling between your thighs despite the terror gripping your throat. Your heart beats frantically against your ribs, pleading at you to fight, to flee, something, but you remain seated on your knees as is expected of you.

Bo uses the knife to saw through your shirt. When you’re bared to him, he wraps an arm around your waist and leans down to sink his teeth into the soft flesh under your collarbone. You wince, suck in air through your teeth, whimper when he sucks a deep purple mark into your skin. He grunts, does it again under your jaw, drags his tongue across your tender flesh until you moan.

“Ohh,” he coos in response, viciously biting your shoulder and making you hiss, “Does that slutty little cunt get wet when I hurt ya’, baby girl?”

“Yes, daddy,” you whisper, choking on a gasp when Bo shoves your face into the disgusting mattress.

“Ass up, whore,” he orders, cutting into your shorts and underwear enough so he can rip them off your hips. “Jesus Christ, look at that,” he murmurs as he drags the flat of the cool blade along the lips of your dripping pussy. You clench your eyes shut, icy fear surging through your veins. Oh god, oh god, please don’t….

“Look, fuckin’ look,” he growls, fisting a hand in your hair so he can wrench your head off the bed and shove the glistening steel in front of your face, “Look at how fuckin’ wet y’are. Just achin’ for any cock to fill that whore cunt, huh?” As well as you can with how hard he grips your hair, you furiously shake your head.

“No? No, yer not a filthy slut?” You shake your head again, wondering if you dare speak.

You risk it, “Yours,” you whimper, gritting your teeth when he shoves the knife closer to your lips.

“Oh, so now ya’ remember, huh, now that ya’ have a knife in yer face?” You nod and Bo shoves you back into the mattress. The knife clatters to the ground and you hear the clink and slip of his belt as he jerks it off his hips. You clamp your eyes shut when he snaps the leather, knowing exactly what comes next.

The first slap of leather across your skin makes you jump and shriek. Sharp, stinging pain follows each noisy smack, the sound bouncing off the walls and ceiling until all you can hear are the blows, your yelps, and the blood rushing in your ears. You wriggle, flinching as much as you dare as leather connects agonizingly with your skin again and again. You wish the pain didn’t make you burn with need, but Bo’s conditioned you well after all this time.

“Fuck,” he groans under his breath, warm palm smoothing over the angry, throbbing skin of your ass and thighs. He drops the belt, leans over you, tips your head to the side, and brushes his thumb through the tears you just now realize are staining your cheeks.

“Oh, baby girl, ya’ look real pretty when ya’ cry. Roll over.” You do, flopping onto your back as quickly as possible. Bo spreads your slick thighs wide, settles between them, pops the button on his pants, and slides the zipper. He pulls his painfully hard, flushed cock from his pants, sighing in relief and lifting you hips to line up with your damp entrance. With a grunt and a groan, he slams home, plowing through tight, slippery muscles and tearing a scream from your throat.

Bloody, calloused hands wrap around your neck and silence your cry. He jackhammers you into the mattress, indifferent to your own pleasure, intent on permanently imprinting himself in your cunt for all time.

“That’s right, baby, that’s right.” You choke on nothing, twisting your hands in the sheets, face feeling like it’s going to burst with how hard he squeezes your throat, “Sure, yer a cock hungry slut, but yer my cock hungry slut, got that? This. Is. Mine.” You nod and he lets off so you can gulp in air and cough.

“Yer nothin’ but my stupid little fuck toy, yeah? Say, ‘Yes, daddy.’”

“Y-Yes, daddy!” you shout, moaning loudly when he tilts his hips and batters that perfect spot he knows will make you scream. Bo spits on your chest, smearing the saliva over your breasts and rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger. He slides his wet hand up your neck, over your chin, and shoves three spit-covered fingers in your mouth.

“Suck on my fingers, get ‘em nice and wet fer me.” You suck as well as you can, laving your tongue along the pads of his digits until he groans. Bo rips his fingers from your mouth, spits on them, brings them to your clit. He mashes the sensitive bud until you’re keening and meeting each punishing thrust.

“Ya’ think you deserve to cum, slut?” You shake your head and Bo laughs, “No? That’s right, ya’ don’t. Only good girls get ta’ cum.”

“P-Please, daddy,” you whine, “Please, I’ll-I’ll be g-good.”

“Ya’ wanna be good now?” Frantically, you nod, heat building in your core, muscles fluttering around the cock assaulting your insides.

“Who-f-fuck-who do ya’ belong to?”

“You! Bo, daddy, please, you, I’m yours, I’m yours, please, fuck, I’m, I have—

“That’s right, bitch, yer mine. Mine. This filthy fuckin’ cunt is mine.”

“Yes! Yes! Yours! Please, daddy, PLEASE!” You’re going to implode, shaking from head to toe, poised right at the brink but terrified to fall.

“Cum for me, slut, cum on my cock, fuckin’ do it.” You scream, vision whiting out, back arching off the mattress, every nerve in your body alight with beautiful sensation.

“Fuck, god, fuck, ‘m gonna fill that dumb cunt up with cum.” Bo wraps his hands around your throat and buries his cock as far into you as he can get. With a broken cry he spills warmth into your belly, his face twisted with pleasure as your twitching muscles milk him dry.

Bo slumps, catching himself with hands planted on either side of your head. Breathing hard, you meet his gaze under your teary lashes. The anger burning in his baby blues has dampened to a smolder. There’s more lust there than anything else now.

“Say it again,” he rasps, dry throat cracking when he speaks.

“I’m yours, Bo.”

“That’s my girl.”

#bo sinclair #bo x reader #bo sinclair x reader #house of wax (2005)#house of wax #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher x reader #n sfw #my writing #thank you for the ask #bo sinclair x you #reader insert #mmmmm fuck this was fun to write #even more fun when it happens in real life #hehe

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talesofphantombandits · 4 years ago

Text

Zero to Six ~ The Death of Six - Edited version.

Greetings and salutations! So I know this isn’t what everyone wanted but people are still reading Zero to Six and I’m honestly so grateful that a year on, people are still loving this series. But I never felt like I wrote it properly, the chapters where always too short and I felt like they were never detailed enough so I wanted to bring to you an edited version (that probably still won’t be perfect.) one that I’m more satisfied with. I will be keeping the original version up just in case people prefer that one, maybe one day I’ll take it down? who knows but yeah so enjoy! <3 P.s I’ve missed you all so much and I’ve really missed this series. Hopefully sometime soon the Prequel will be out which I have started and named ‘Before there was Six, there was Zero.’

Characters: Four X Zero (OC) Summary: Zero was the first person to be ‘saved’ by One, she was his first honorary Ghost. Her knowledge in tech meant she got the role of ‘Hacker’ she recruited new team members, looked for missions and locations and made sure every security measure was looked at. You know normal hacker spy stuff. But her tough up bringing meant that if needs be she could fight, she was maybe even better than some people on the team knew. But due to One’s protectiveness over her she had to stay hidden, she was more of an actual ghost than the rest of the team was. This didn’t mean she couldn’t have her fun though, over the months of being with the full team she had formed quite a passionate love/ hate relationship with the handsome Four. Who knows what sparks would fly if they were ever to meet. Warnings: Slight swearing, some suggestive flirting in later chapters.

Tagg list: (I know this is a edit of my original story but if anyone wants to be tagged let me know.) @raylan-c

Zero to Six ~ Part 2. Edited Version. Masterlist.

“You’re stalling.”

“I’m not stalling.” Zero could practically hear the smirk in Fours voice over the coms. “I’m simply just working myself up to it.”

She laughed. “You always say that, and you’re always stalling.” She was playing on his last nerve, she knew it but this would be good for Four and entertainment for her. He always worked better when he was frustrated and no one stressed him out quite like Zero.

Four had been doing parkour for most of his life, or that’s what he told them. Yet he was still fearful every single time, still I guess that’s what made him great at it the fear of always falling gave him the adrenaline he needed to make the jumps.

Another breathless laugh fluttered through Zeros left ear. “Don’t test me darling.” Now it was his turn to make Zero sweat, this always happened. Zero would insult and tease and Four would flirt right back, although most of the team were used to it by now they still broke them up from time to time.

“Whatever monkey boy, just be ready for when Six gets his ass in gear!” She clicked her tongue. “I can hear you mocking me asshole, remember I hold the key here I can make your life a living hell with just one click of a button.”

“You already make my life hell darling, But I live for it everyday.”

“Swear to god Four, you’re a pain in my ass.” She mumbled as she typed away at the computer trying to figure out their next move so she could be ready with any instruction they needed.

“I’m sure your ass is pretty fine, I can’t wait to see it someday.” She could practically feel the smirk.

“Yeah? And I can't wait to punch the smirk off that pretty face one day, only you could be in a life or death situation and be thinking about my virtual ass.”

“Wait, did you just admit to fancying me Zero? Guys she called me handsome, I think I’m getting somewhere.”

“Go for Four!” Saved by the bell it seems, One’s voice rang through coms. Zero silently thanked god for she did fancy Four, who wouldn’t fancy that absolute Greek god of a man? With that honey voice and the moves he had! moves he could use on her, she shook her head hoping the images of him forming in her head would magically fall out of her brain never to return, but she wouldn’t be so lucky.

“Shut the hell up, stop thinking about ways to seduce Zero and get your ass down here we need you!” And just like that, it was go time. “NOW!”

Zero had been working with this team for a while now, but she was more on the surveillance side of the missions, which meant that she had never officially met the team face to face. The only person she had actually met was One, who had recruited her. He would visit from time to time, she liked to think they had a special bond. She was in fact the first person in need that One had found and ever since then he had become a sort of father figure to her.

Two was next who was sort of cold at times, Zero put this down to her CIA training but she had never been anything but caring towards Zero. Then she found Three, a hitman who she was reluctant to look into at first but she knew now it was the best thing for her and the team. Despite his past he was one of the most sweet and caring men she’d ever met, and he never failed to make her smile on a bad day. Ever since recruiting Four, she felt the atmosphere in the group shift slightly, there was nothing bad about him but they both couldn’t ignore the growing attraction between them, and this was just over cyber space. She then found her best friend in Five, she was different from the rest. Not as violent and rash but still amazing at what she did and protecting herself and others, Zero knew if she ever needed someone the first person she’d go to was Five.

Six was her latest recruit, one that she knew was extremely talented in not only driving but in all things mechanical too, they had chatting a few times about servers and bots and he’d promised her a round in their shared favourite video game once this mission was complete.

She’d be lying to herself and everyone else if she said she didn’t want to meet them all in person, they were the closest thing she had, had to family. However she knew that if she was to meet them nothing could ever come of her and Four. One would definitely not allow it, and most likely lock her straight back up.

Still they were sort of this dysfunctional family, and she was definitely the odd one out. She couldn’t remember the last time she had, had a normal conversation with someone who wasn’t ‘dead’ the only time she was allowed to leave the flat was when One said it was moving day. He didn’t like her staying in one flat too long, she must have moved at least four times this year already. While she was alone in her flat eating ready meals they were all back at base eating together, she sometimes pretended she was there eating with them. Three telling her some stupid story that no one else is listening to because they have heard it at least a thousand times, but she would just be so happy to hear his beautiful accent in person that she would listen to anything he was telling her. How she wished she could hug three in real life. The closest she had gotten to eating with them was over coms, sometimes they would leave the line open for debriefing but it still made her feel like an outcast.

“I’m coming down!” Everything was going wrong, Six had gone the wrong way. Which Zero wasn’t surprised to see as everyone in the car was shouting at each other, she sat there in her gaming chair drinking Dr Pepper and enjoying her fried chicken meal while everyone was losing their minds in the field. Maybe getting to stay in the comfort of her flat wasn’t so bad after all?

“Good boy.” She praised Four. “Finally putting those parkour skills to use, other than robbing some innocent person.”

Even before he started to speak she could tell he’d started to run because his speech came out in huffs. “Shut up, at least I can do parkour which makes me cooler than a girl who sits at her computer all day.”

She had to laugh. “What are you? Five years old? Try again when you can think up better come backs, I can’t take you seriously right now.”

Wherever One moved Zero was never too far away from where the team worked, the first time the rest of the team worked this out was when Zero first used the drone to help navigate them someplace safe. That was also the first time she finally got to see Four in action, the image of him running along the rooftops like a monkey in the jungle both amused her and impressed her. Hence the nickname she had given him. But there were also times when he would have close calls, where he had nearly fallen to his death that’s when the breath would get knocked out of her and she would only calm when she knew he was safe on the ground again.

“Right over you guys.” He said in a strained voice while leaping onto another roof.

“So guys, just look out for the flying monkey above you. That will be Four.” Most of the teasing with Four was just to pass the time while they were out in the field having fun and mainly it was just way too fun to hear him get so frustrated.

“Zero, that’s not helping us.” One said in a sing-song voice.

“Maybe it’s not helping you, but it is definitely helping me pass the time.” All she could hear was a disappointed grunt from One which just made her chuckle,it was also very fun to piss One off.

“Six! SIX! Wrong way god damn it!”

She cringed at how loud Four had screamed down the coms. “Come back! I’ve got an idea.”

“Ladies and gentleman, for the first time in his life Four has an idea!” She said mindlessly typing away trying to find the best route for them to escape by.

“You know what Zero, when we finally meet I’m going to run that fine ass of yours into the ground.” He all but growled.

“You can try monkey boy, but you’ll have to catch me first.” She smirked to herself, she secretly hoped that, that was more of a promise than a mere threat. “Oh, challenge accepted sweetheart. I’d love to have a game of cat and mouse with you.”

“You two do remember that we are on a mission right now, right?” Six moaned. “What with you two flirting, and these absolute idiots fighting beside me in the car. I’m finding it very hard to concentrate on driving!” With every word Six’s voice got more agitated and louder.

“We are not flirting!” Both Four and Zero exclaimed together.

“Aww they even said it at the same time!” Zero just rolled her eyes at One’s teasing. “No one cares, now both of you shut up so we can all get out of here.”

“That’s it Six, keep coming towards me!” The drone was filming just above the action, once she’d wiped her hands and they were free from the grease on her chicken. She finally realised what Four was about to do.

Suddenly the car that was tailing Six was being impaled by five metal tubes. “God, okay I’m definitely done eating now. That was so gross.”

Then the screaming started to fill the coms. “Guy’s, what the hell are you doing?” All Zero could make out was something about an eyeball.

“This is so stressful! Can everyone stop arguing and speaking over each other?!” Zero was getting agitated now.

“YOU THINK YOU’RE STRESSED?! I’M TRYING TO DRIVE WHILST ALSO TRYING NOT TO KILL ANYONE, DID I MENTION I ALSO HAVE AN EYEBALL ON MY LEG?!” Six all but screamed down the coms, loud enough that Zero had to remove her earpiece until she was sure he was done with his rant.

“Six sweetie,” she said as calmly as she could, trying not to laugh. “Are you okay?”

“DO I SOUND LIKE I’M OKAY ZERO?!” She knew he would say that, she finally let out the chuckle she was trying to hold as to not irritate him further.

“Sorry I was just asking. I swear I‘m not using your painful situation to make myself feel better.” She held her hands up in defence even though he couldn’t see her.

He just let out a huff. “I’m going to ignore you now Zero, you’re pissing me off more than these guys are.”

After the commotion things went quiet for a while, there was now a helicopter tailing them so all effort and concentration went on losing it. While there was little chatter over the coms the main sound that dominated the air was the gunfire, Zero silently prayed to herself while she watched the drone that everyone would make it out of their first real mission alive. One finally found a route for them, conveniently inside of a building that would shelter them enough to lose the aerial surveillance they were under.

“The drone will meet you on the other side, good luck and please try not to make too much of a mess in there Six. There are some priceless statues in there we would all like preserving.” Just as Zero finished her sentence she heard a loud crash.

“You were saying?” Six chuckled nervously.

“You didn’t.” Zero stared shocked at her screen, mouth wide open.

One was the one to respond to her though. “Unfortunately he did, don’t worry we’re all just as disappointed in him.”

“Okay we finally lost the chopper, Zero do you have a visual?” One asked surprisingly calmly.

“You mean the bright green car, kind of hard to miss. Good choice Six you really blend in.” Zero laughed. “I see you, there are two black vans heading your way. Shake them off then head to the arranged rendezvous spot where Three will be waiting for you.”

Six’s voice was strained when he spoke. “Listen, fast and convenient was what I was told to get. So that’s what I got.”

Zero would have responded but she was more distracted by the sight of Four on a skateboard holding a launcher. He jumped off the board and leaped up onto the stone wall just as one of the black vans passed, he aimed and shot, never missing the mark. She was impressed for a moment but then saw the smug smile on his face, he looked directly into the drone and winked at Zero. She just scoffed, what an absolute show off.

“Seems like we have a superhero on our team.” Six laughed impressed.

Zero scoffed again, but this time loud enough so everyone could hear it over the coms. “I wouldn’t exactly call him a superhero.”

“Then what would you call me darling? A Greek god?” This is the thing about Four, he’d never met Zero in person but he knew exactly how to push her buttons. She’d be lying if she said she didn’t enjoy the banter from time to time.

“Hurm more like a vein asshole that thinks far too highly of himself.” She snapped back.

But he just laughed, the complete opposite of what she was expecting. “I mean everyone else loves me, might as well love myself too.” She rolled her eyes, She really couldn’t blame him though he was a very handsome man but no way in hell was she ever going to tell him that. “One day you’ll fall for the charm that everyone else falls for. I know you’re already obsessed with me.”

“In your dreams Four.”

“It already happens in my dreams, every night darling. I’d be happy to elaborate later on in a private chat.” Zero audibly gagged.

“Guy’s can we please cut out the flirting until after the mission? We’re nearly there and I don’t think any of us want to hear whatever this is.” One sounded tired and Zero just laughed at how much their fighting annoyed the other members.

“Yes boss!” She added in a salute even though One couldn’t see her, he could feel she was mocking him.

Just then the drone cut out. “Shit! Someone shot down the drone. You’re on your own from here guys.”

There was a commotion through the coms, one that didn’t sound at all good. Car tyres screeched, bullets rain down on the metal of the car Zero held her breath as she waited for anything. Even just a breath so she knew at least someone was still alive, her heart stopped when the line had been silent for too long she had to know what happened.

“Guys, come on talk to me. What’s going on? Why are you all being so silent? What happened?” There was another breath of silence and her mind went straight to Four, she shook her head. No! She wasn’t going to let herself think about that, she scolded herself for getting too attached to the little shit.

The was a crackle over the line, Five cleared her throat. “Six is dead, we’re in the van, the space is clear.”

Zero sucked in a breath, she felt like her lungs were burning. “What?”

“Zero listen to me, you need to turn off coms now.” One must have turned from the group, he was using his quiet, serious voice. “I’ll handle this okay, I’ll check back in with you later.”

Just like that he was gone, she clicked the switch to turn off almost absentmindedly. She sat back in her chair, only snapping back to reality when she felt something wet fall on her hand. She softly touched her face to find her cheeks were wet, when had she started to cry? Six wasn’t someone she knew in person, he had been the last member of the team but still a very important piece of their puzzle. She thought about the game he had promised to play with her after the mission, this would never come to pass now. Now he was really dead, and it was all her fault.

For the first time Zero started to think about the whole team and if One’s master plan of being ghosts to take down the world’s evil was such a good idea after all, why had it taken a real death in the team for her to even think about this. What if it had been Four, she didn’t think she could live with herself if anything ever happened to Four, maybe it was a good thing they had never met. Seeing him in person, hearing his deep honey voice, feeling his warmth would definitely make her fall deeper then she already was. He was just a voice over the coms but behind that was a real person, one that probably wouldn’t even share the same feelings towards her. So she thought ‘Yes, It’s a good thing I’m behind this computer screen and not with them in person.’ She had to try to distance herself from now on.

......

Just wanted to say one last Thank You! for the continued support for this story <3

#ben hardy #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #ben hardy four #6 underground #6 underground fanfiction #6 underground four #6 underground fanfic #6 underground billy #four #four fanfiction #four fanfic #four x reader #four x oc #four x zero #billy x reader #billy x oc #billy x scout #6 underground x reader

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