#there are refreshments in the dining car

[begginmonty]

working with mike

(this doesn't follow the plot directly and mike works like more than just 3 shifts, also this is legit 2k words long i got so so so carried away im just so in love with mike, apologies!! its also not been proofread sorry <3)

before mike is hired alongside you, steve raglan had given you the job a week or so ago after you had lost your last job over a silly customer dispute (the customer is never right) and steve was your last hope at job, and bingo he had one. here you are 2 weeks later, waiting by your car outside the rundown pizzeria, waiting to train the new guy whose supposed to help you

a car pulls up and out comes a very pretty, but very tired/drained, looking guy, you introduce yourself with a small smile and he doesn’t return it, and is like “im mike”, you give him the benefit of the doubt that he hasn't smiled at you, new jobs are stressful.

the first shift goes fine, you tell him the basics and show him the training video tape, which alongside your commentary of making fun of some of it and nit-picking little things finally gets an amused smile from him. you can see him ease up a little. he doesn’t talk as much as you do but he seems to enjoy your ramblings. 

you show him the showtime performance after he looks confused about ‘animatronics’ . watching his reaction of the animatronics rendition of talking in your sleep by the romantics is a little amusing to you but you were the same way when vanessa had shown you originally.

“its something isn’t it?” he doesn't reply, he just stood looking in disbelief. 

when morning rolls around, you show him how to lock up and then give him his own key that steve had given you. 

“wasn’t so bad was it?” 

“it was..different” 

the second shift alongside mike is different but a good different. he’s running a little late and walks in on your blasting an 80s hot pop hits tape over the old speakers, vacuuming the main dining area. a smile, that melts his heart a little, lights up your face as you see him walk in.

“im sorry i’m late the babysi-”

“hey, dont stress it. you still made it!” 

he is not used to someone being so nice and friendly to him??  its foreign but he finally cracks you a small smile, watching you as you turn on the vacuum and continue listening to the music. (i need to hug him i stg)

he hasn't met anyone as nice as you in a long long time, it’s refreshing for him

and not in a creepy way !!!!!!!!!!! but he watches the cameras and watches as you just listen to the music as if the world isn’t there and continue to clean the area. 

“need a hand?” 

mike speaks up as you take a break leaning against a table, facing the main stage, the curtains open (as your next task is going to clean around the animatronics, it’s getting too dusty), music turned down quietly. he comes and leans against the table with you. you start small talk, saying something about the animatronics and you guys talk a little.

“so, you said something about a babysitter, do you have, like, a kid or something? sorry if im being too nosy, please tell me to shut up or something” mike cannot get over how nice you are

and then mike explains his living situation, and then the two of you get into a discussion about how families can suck and be shitty ect

and mike really likes how you don't pry or ask him lots of questions like others have done in the past, this man is really liking you and he’s only know you for two days

“this guy…must’ve been on something to make this place” and mike laughs a little !!! for the first time you got him to laugh !!

“yeah it’s something isn’t it..” both of you are sat against a table just staring at the animatronics in front of you

the two of you make small talk as you wipe down the dust covered tables but you can see how tired he is, he’s yawning a little bit.

“hey, you know, you can like sleep on the job by the way?” he looks up at you from the table, “sometimes i take a good couple hours nap in the office, no ones breaking into this place anytime soon”

he tries to protest and mentions towards the cleaning products and you brush him off, “go, you need it”

mike feels a strange warmth in his heart the hasn't felt, maybe ever? and he naps for a few hours whilst you continue to clean around. cleaning isn't in your job description but honestly you’re worried about the level of dust entering your lungs y'know

a loud thud and chair scraping noise comes from the office and you run to it and see mike on the floor, he looks confused and you help him to sit up. you ask if he’s okay but he seems out of it, “mike, whats wrong?”

sitting on the floor together, mike explains everything to you and opens up to you about a little brother he had, and tells you about his dream issues and sleep issues and you can see he’s upset and shaken by this dream. He shows you the sleeping pills and he explains the dream theory he’s been reading about.

“this is the part where somebody usually calls me crazy” 

“you aren’t crazy, mike” mike notices how kind you eyes are and how warm your voice is, “i’ve seen crazy. you are far from it” you joke a little and he has the faintest smile tug at his lips. 

finally home time woo !! as you lock up the gate, you watch as mike goes to his car, “mike wait!”

he turns around almost instantly at your voice as you run up to him, you pull something out from your hoodie a fazbear security badge and hand it to him, “you’re officially security now” he takes it from you and thanks you with that small smile. 

3rd shift passes (you could’ve sworn foxy was standing in a different spot and bonnie’s hand placement looked completely different) and vanessa comes for her weekly visit and meets mike. when you aren’t with them, vanessa brings up the fact that you’re one of the kindest and nicest people she’s ever met and mike agrees. 

next shift goes by and another and you guys have a long conversation about everything and you tell him more about yourself. hes never really been romantically involved with anyone but somebodysss got a crush (its him and well, you do too). and then you let him sleep and decide to tackle the old kitchen. (you could’ve sworn you heard someone walk down the hallway but you double check and no ones there)

mike dreams again and you swear you hear a groan and you walk to the office to see him, out of breath, breathing, clutching his arm and theres blood coming from it and he looks up at you trembling. “oh my god mike, what happened?”

you sit opposite him, patch him up and make him a hot drink, and he's explaining everything to you and you can tell he’s really getting bothered by these dreams. (you also think hes hurt himself from falling off the chair somehow..unbeknownst to you)

he’s tearing up a little and you just hold his hand in yours, and he's looking at your kind eyes and he doesn’t know how to react to being touched, he stops talking (mike is incredibly touch starved oh my god) and, carefully, you lean forward and hug him very gently.

he’s stiff at first but you can feel him relax into the hug and he wraps his non-injured arm around you and grips onto your back, “its okay mike. you’re okay” you can tell he really needs this hug and you can tell no one has really hugged him in a long time.

when the shift ends and you say goodbye for the day, your car just refuses to start. you cannot start it at all. you get out the car and look at it in a huff, but lucky for you mike hasnt driven a way yet

he gets out his car and you explain to him about your car, and he offers if you want a lift home or at least back to his house (his house is much closer than yours) and you can call someone about the car and you agree.

the drive is nice, you notice he has a great taste in music

meeting abby!! mike excuses himself for a shower whilst you're ringing the mechanics for your car, and he accidentally falls asleep on his bed after. when he wakes up (a good hour or so later, which you really don't mind) he walks into the living room to see you and abby sat on the floor colouring together with a cartoon on the tv, and you guys are really getting along and she’s wearing your security guard vest and badge. (her friends told her to trust you)

“uh abby, why dont you get ready for school?” mike speaks up, causing you both to look in his direction. 

you can't fight the fact that he looks hot with joggers and shirt on, looking sleepy as hell aHHH

“okay” abby smiles and gives you back your stuff and runs off to her room to get ready for school. 

he walks over to you and sits down on the couch, “im sorry for falling asleep-”

you sit next to him and place your hand on his arm and smile, “its fine, mike, really. your sister is lovely”

mike looks up from your hand and looks at your face. he looks sleepy and gorgeous and you look gorgeous to him and your eyes are so kind and theres a moment. some sort of magnetic force kinda pulls your faces closer together.

“im gonna be late!” says abby running into the room.

mike drops abby to school and you stay in his house, waiting for the mechanic to eventually call you back like he says he will. you feel a little awkward sitting on his couch watching tv but you have nothing better to do.

he comes back he offers you a shower and some of his clothes as he feels bad for you having to sit in work clothes. 

the way his heart feels when he see’s you walk out to the bathroom and back to the couch next to him wearing one of his sweatshirts and a pair of his joggers as well hMMMMMMMMMMmmmmmmmm (too early for love?)

he smells good

you must both drop off to sleep, as a few hours later mike opens his eyes for a minute to the TV showing some drama show, and then he notices a heavy feeling on his chest. there you are, passed out, in his clothes, head on his chest peacefully asleep. 

this is something he’s never felt before !1!!1 

he blushes (thank god you’re asleep) and brushes a hair out of your face, staring down at your sleeping face (uh oh someones in love) before grabbing the worn blanket from behind him and throwing it over your exposed legs.

you stirr a little, your arm wrapping around his lower half and he's so flustered and sleepy and aHHHH

he wraps his arm around your shoulders gently and passes out again (PART 2??)

[pedgito]

𝐌𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐌𝐄 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐒 ╳ SERIES MASTERLIST

Chapter Two: Chivalry, Secrets & Hot Tubs (Week One)

[strangers to friends to lovers, age gap (56/mid 20s), forced proximity, no outbreak]

(Series) Content Warning: a very, very lonely joel miller. copious amounts of lusting, tension, joel is an excellent cook (food, alcohol, ect), hot tubs, impromptu snowball fights, awkward situations, deep talks and tragic backstories (specified within chapter warnings, deeply depraved smut/sexcapades and the inappropriate use of a dining table (also specified within chapter warnings), nicknames of endearment (no use of y/n)

quick note: i love all the reblogs/feedback and that you're all enjoying this as much as i am <3 and a huge thank you to @swiftispunk for being the best and looking over the first chapter for me, i am completely scatter-brained and forgot to mention this when i posted last monday, so tysm han and pls go check her out if you haven't! & follow my fic update blog (@pedgitos) and turn on post notifications so you don't miss any updates/posted fics!

Chapter Summary: Settling in is easier than you expect, but it does come with a fair share of challenges. A week filled with getting to know one another and some moments shared, your week doesn't end on the best note, leaving you with a choice.

Chapter Warnings: (8k) no outbreak, grumpy!Joel, domestic shenanigans, Joel being naturally assertive, cooking dinner together, reading is good at encouraging Joel, one hot tub & two stubborn individuals, also...one bed trope incoming

You wake up refreshed, like you’ve been born with a new reverence for life—alright, it might be a bit of an overstatement but it’s a wonder what a decent night of sleep could do and you’re feeling that this idea, playing house with a stranger—though it wasn’t much like that anymore—wasn’t the worst choice. And it reminds you of Joel, having left him in the chair last night, not wanting to burden him but you can only imagine the ache in his bones, his back, the discomfort of sleeping in a chair all night. 

You lay for a moment, bleary eyes adjusting to the early morning light. The morning sunshine wasn’t strong here, blanketed out by a stark white snow that covered the ground, it muted out most colors and left a cool, but bright blue that shined through the window above your bed. 

It was peaceful. No cars, no buzz of strong electricity outside your window, people and their idle conversation a few floors down from your apartment window. Not even a bird, really. But, there’s a distinct clearing of a throat from the living room that has you stirring in bed, rising lazily as you move with the same enthusiasm. 

It was a fresh week. The first official week of your vacation and you were going to start it off on a good note, clambering out of the bed and slipping on a pair of fluffy slippers to keep your toes from freezing off, not bothering to glance in a mirror on the way out—not that you needed to, it didn’t matter. It was early, you were still trying to shed the sleep from your body and you could care less. Plus, it wasn’t like an old t-shirt and sleep shorts was some foreign concept. 

When you peek around the corner, arms crossed tightly over your chest, you can spot Joel’s head tilting to one side, hand kneading at the taut muscle in the center of his back where his neck starts to begin and then you’re stuck watching as he stretches his arms out wide, working out all of those muscles. Every single one. And you’ve been silent for far too long.

Yeah.

Clearing your throat softly, you approach from behind and keep your distance, announcing your presence like you hadn’t been lingering for a minute or two already. 

“Morning,” You greet politely, resting your weight against the edge of the island, taking in full view of a freshly awoken Joel, eyes still puffy from sleep.

He looks very…gentle. Surprisingly, so. It softens his rigid demeanor significantly and you have to silently talk yourself out of glaring at him for too long, “I didn’t want to wake you—I’m so sorry.”

Jeez—you two are getting good at that. Apologizing, afraid to step on each other’s toes. 

“Not your fault,” Joel massages his bicep with the heavy pressure of his thumb, looking slightly pained as he rolls his shoulders, “I didn’t realize how tired I was.”

“Yeah, but I forced you to stay up, so—”

“You didn’t,” Joel quickly shuts you down, “I’m a grown man,” there’s a laugh hidden somewhere in there, but Joel continues, “don’t blame yourself for my own irresponsibility.”

It’s too early for this. You force on a fake smile, void of any real emotion at this hour, running on fumes and the smell of coffee. Speaking of—you sniff, eyes searching for the smell like a dog would track a scent, and Joel is already pointing in the direction you should be looking for when your eyes land on him.

“I already finished it off on my own,” Joel admits, pointedly taking another long sip before resting the mug back on the counter, “I can get another pot goin’ if you need it.”

There’s an inclination to let him, seeing him assert himself so easily and offer, but you shake your head, “I think I can handle a coffee maker,” You assure him, meandering around the kitchen in search of the coffee grounds, ignoring Joel’s tracking of your movements, waiting for a moment to interject and point you in the right direction. You spot them a moment before the urge comes with a soft aha!

“I needed to make a drive into town,” Joel tells you after you’ve gone through the steps of starting your own batch of coffee, “pick up some more food, figured you might wanna tag along.”

He’s not asking, only assuming. But to be fair, his assumption is right. 

“Sure,” You reply cooly, pouring yourself a hefty cup of coffee to sip on, letting your body take hold of the caffeine, “...how far away is the closest town?”

“Hour and a half.” Joel answers and you almost have the nerve to go wide-eyed on him, but then you remember just how deep into the woods you both were and that it was necessary.

Truthfully, there was a more concerning matter at hand.

“How’s your music taste?” 

Joel has the gall to look offended by the question.

“I’m leavin’ in thirty,” Joel ignores you, “don’t think I won’t hesitate to leave you here.”

Okay, noted: Joel wasn’t much the morning person you assumed he was.

-

Joel immediately realizes how little disregard you have for touching things that aren’t yours when you reach for the makeshift box of cassettes tapes placed in the backseat of his truck—the thing was old, riding on it’s last leg, but it was something Joel would cherish until it was unsalvageable, torn seats, dents, and all.

“Ain’t gonna find anything you like in there,” Joel assures you, “None of that pop stuff they’re always playin’ on the radio these days.”

The tables turn on him suddenly, seeing your face contort into a similar emotion that he gave you earlier. Bewilderment, shock, annoyance. You scoff at the comment.

“Says you,” You retort back, sifting through the different cassettes until you find Joel trading glances between you and the road in front of him, almost worried you might chuck his collection out of the passenger side window, “Joel, eyes on the road.”

Joel enjoys a lot of country, which isn’t a total disbelief. But, it wasn’t something you shared the sentiment on, flicking away a handful of country artists you’ve never listened to and reaching some of the good stuff—older rock music, some classic 80s, and late 90s.

You pluck one out carefully, prying open the cassette case with gentle hands before sliding the tape in, allowing the low hum of the music to fill the car. There’s a brief moment of respite before Joel smirks to himself, thumb tapping against the steering wheel.

“What were you saying?” You look at him pointedly, shifting slightly in your seat.

Joel looks away briefly, biting back a chuckle, “Fine—I’ll give you some credit. Foo Fighters aren’t terrible, but you skipped right over Bruce Springsteen, so…”

You scoff in disbelief, “You don’t get to criticize me with that atrocious collection of country music,” You stare down at the box in thought, eyes brimming with a mischievous that Joel knows of immediately, he’s seen it before. Not with you, but he knows, “you know, maybe I should just do you a favor and—”

You can barely get a hand on the window roller before Joel’s hand is gripped tight over the box, trapping your other hand in his grip as he warns, “I’m not above leavin’ you stranded in the cold.”

Your grin is nothing but evil and Joel finds that there’s something about you that infuriates him in a way that is hard to describe, not in anger or rage, but a level that he thinks he could match. A game of back and forth that he could play into—but you’re quickly relenting regardless of the threat and placing the box on the floorboard.

“Already tried that,” You retort, “didn’t work too well for you, did it?”

Fair is fair. Joel doesn’t poke the beast.

Instead, he takes the chance to ask a question.

“So, what exactly was your plan?” Joel asks curiously. “You comin’ out here with no car and all?”

You shrug nonchalantly, “Didn’t really have one, but I would have figured it out.”

Joel shakes his head dismissively, subtly resembling a face of disapproval.

“Hey, you don’t get to judge me, okay?” You don’t wait for a response, “You can have whatever assumptions you want about me, but don’t try and act like you know anything about me.”

It was another reminder. Joel didn’t know you, but you didn’t know him either. You reign your frustration in slightly, quick to defend yourself but aware that not everyone handles confrontation in the same way—if Joel was quick to anger, you didn’t want to stoke the fire. 

“I’m not,” Joel argues, his voice calmer than you expect, thinking back to the saddled rage his voice held the night you arrived, the threat that lingered with every word, “I’m not, alright?”

“Then stop that.” You comment, waving your hand in a vague motion toward his face, “Stop looking at me like—”

“Like what?” Joel interjects, eyes more pensive as he looks over at you.

“Like—like I need a fucking lecture on life or my choices,” You tell him, a hint of pleading in your voice, “I’m not some kid who doesn’t understand how life works.”

“You’re not a kid—” 

“Good, great that we established that,” You lean back in the seat more comfortably, arms crossed over your chest as you keep your eyes on the snow covered road, “now shut up so I can enjoy the music.”

Thankfully, Joel does just that.

-

Conversation falls flat until you arrive at the store in town a while later, Joel fetching a cart and pushing it your way before he stops you suddenly, hand over your own again—a touch that normally you would flinch away from, but he’s already done it once before and the thought doesn’t even cross your mind.

“I’ll catch up,” Joel tells you, “I forgot somethin’ in the car.”

You glance back briefly, knowing that the walk isn’t that far. 

“Oh, I can wait. It’s fine.”

Joel doesn’t say so much, but the look in his eyes goes a long way. A silent plea for you to go with it and don’t ask questions—again, you didn’t have any right to. You nod quickly and wander off toward the store as Joel trails away.

It’s then when your phone starts to vibrate away in your pocket, the sudden availability of service sending a barrage of notifications your way—you’re terrified to take a glimpse, but you do anyway. It should be no surprise to bear witness to the many, many texts from your mother wondering where you’d run off to, but there’s a tinge of guilt settling in your stomach.

You send her a quick, dismissive text to explain that you were fine and enjoying your time, but no elaboration on the things she wanted to know, because really, there was nothing to tell. And if you did decide to expel the details of your trip, mentioning that there was no boyfriend and it was just a stranger you met in the middle of the woods, well…that wouldn’t go over smoothly.

You also find a quick, heated moment of frustration to send an unpleasant text to the owners of the cabin, still polite enough that it wouldn’t warrant your ability to work things out—and you decide that calling would reach them faster, that somehow they’d magically find a way to appear and fix things, but there’s no answer. Only a voicemail that gave vague details about being away on their own vacation.

Just your luck.

Great. You sigh deeply, shoving the phone away into your pocket and returning to the land of obliviousness as you step inside the small market.

You fend for yourself for a while, throwing several random necessities in the cart as you go, enough sustenance to spread over four weeks and manage meals the entire trip, also a few more bottles of alcohol don’t hurt, looking for a few hard liquors that catch your eye and adding them to the growing supply of items. 

You’re lost in concentration of the ingredients on the back of a box dinner when Joel’s voice startles you back to the real world, eyes jumping up to look at him and he spots the panic immediately.

He nods slightly when you recognize him, “Sorry, keep forgettin’ how jumpy you are.”

“You’re just ridiculously fucking quiet,” You tell him, breathing out a long sigh as you toss the box into the cart, “everything alright?”

“Yeah,” Joel assures, doesn’t elaborate. Okay, cool. You weren’t going to pry, no matter how much your instincts told you to. He scans the cart casually, “Mind tradin’ off?”

You lend him the lead and follow, watching as he pointedly finds things, like he’s reading off a list in his head and moves around the store with a purpose. It’s only slightly annoying that you have to keep pace with him, but he’s suddenly speaking out to you as he’s glancing over something on the bottom shelf, “Are you allergic to anything?”

“No,” You responded, eyebrows knitting together in confusion, “Why?”

“Grab some of that fresh rosemary,” Joel says, pointing out somewhere behind you and you whip around, eyes searching furiously and coming up empty, “—find it?”

You’re a little dumbfounded as you search the shelf of fresh herbs, Joel’s heavy footsteps approaching behind you as he reaches over your shoulder and plucks the exact thing he’s looking for with ease, “Hey, I had the right idea.” You defend, noticing how amused he looked at your befuddlement, “And you didn’t answer my question, either.”

“Well,” He tosses the small, plastic package in the cart, still tucked up at your side and you can feel his body heat, the solid wall of his chest against your shoulder, “don’t like the idea of accidentally killin’ you if I cook something you’re allergic to.”

“Well, what if I’m lying?” You challenge and Joel shoves you aside gently to grab the cart, hands on your shoulder as he shifts you away—and when had things gotten so…touchy?

Truthfully, Joel finds it easier than telling you, noting how quickly you quiet down when he asserts himself and does rather than asks. He knows if it made you uncomfortable you wouldn’t have had a problem speaking up immediately. 

“Look at me,” And there’s a deep timbre to his voice that has your chest sparking like a fire, eyes connecting with Joel’s for longer than you’ve ever allowed and it’s like he sees right through you, but he’s searching for something, “—you’re not lyin’.”

“But, if I was?”

Joel nearly leaves you in the dust, but turns to look at you with a subtle grin.

“Well, now I know you’re not.”

–

The ride back is easier, much easier—and Joel doesn’t fault you when you fall asleep halfway through, the heat of the car and the low hum of the music like a perfect mix as you curl in on yourself. Joel wakes you with a gentle hand on your shoulder when you finally make it back, allowing you a moment to shake the grogginess away with a word over his shoulder as he opens his door.

“Careful over that patch of ice on your side,” Joel instructs, “gettin’ colder so it’s slicker than it was a couple days ago.”

Careful. You roll your eyes carelessly, nudging the door open with your shoulder and hopping out, boots hitting the hard ground—your first mistake was underestimating the slickness and Joel’s warning, because the moment you take your first step it’s all downhill. Literally.

Luckily though, like a moment of divine faith as you pray that you don’t hit the ground, Joel is right at your back, arms slipping under your own as he plants his feet firmly and catches you. One arm crossing somewhere over your midsection and the other wrapping around your shoulder, a large palm holding you steady as he helps you back to your feet. You can feel him on the brink of making a comment, eyes looking down tenderly into your own—

“Don’t ask.” You warn him bitterly, face scrunched up like a kicked puppy, shrugging him off lazily. Joel doesn’t argue, making sure you’re steady before he allows you himself to fully let go.

Joel shakes his head subtly, a nuisance of his, and rounds the back of the truck to reach for the bagged groceries, “Fine, I’ll just say I told you so then. How’s that?”

Worse. 

-

Joel never asks for help, doesn’t even seem bothered when you stand there aimlessly, watching him stow away the groceries like he already had a game plan and you feel slightly useless, but it does give you a good opportunity to watch without any explicit reason or excuse. 

There’s an obvious purpose to Joel’s movement, clear that he’s used to doing a lot of heavy lifting and keeping up, probably prefers organization over clutter, and has a certain inclination to do things himself, always. And you can’t help the way your gaze clings to his face, noticing something a little off—not good or bad, just slightly different. You hadn’t noticed it this morning, but with the extended amount of time your eyes lingered on him, you realize he’s cleaned up a bit, shaved his beard down to near stubble, a subtle difference…but you notice.

You’re not sure how long you’re stuck in this state, arms resting against the counter as you stood there, practically useless, thinking about what Joel looks like on a regular basis, when he isn’t cooped up in a cabin in the dead of winter. You want to see that side of him, crave it. It’s an insane thought that doesn’t make sense, eyes widening suddenly at the realization of the thought you’re having—

“You still with me?” Joel’s voice calls out in the haze, muffled slightly as you come back into focus, eyes landing on him. “Think I lost you there for a minute.”

“Oh—no. I mean, yeah. I’m still a little tired, I guess.” It’s a bold face lie, but Joel seems to believe you. “Why?”

“I was sayin’ I need to go chop up some wood for the fireplace,” He explains again, “then you went all wide eyed…”

“Oh, okay,” You nod jerkily, “...do you need help?”

Joel immediately declines. No surprise there.

“Why don’t you get some sleep?” Joel suggests, “I can manage just fine on my own.”

Sleep sounds great, but it doesn’t happen. 

You try—you do, but the splitting of wood, the strong crack of the axe catching the wood outside of your bedroom window, it isn’t exactly soothing to the ears. So, you find yourself wandering into the kitchen, peeking between the curtains with a wild curiosity that reminds you of when you were younger and trying to catch a peek of the cute boy next door, a bashfulness replaced with a deep, insatiable hunger that you didn’t know existed until this moment. 

Joel was attractive, you could easily admit that. But, seeing him now, it’s a done deal. There was a deep pit of despair in your mind and you were stuck at the bottom with no way out.

It’s almost abysmal how easy he makes it look, the axe he’d brandish as his weapon of choice against you swung over his shoulders, the unfortunate lack of skin stretching over taut muscles as he went through the motions, covered up by thick layers. But, you get the idea. 

There’s a slight pout forming on your face before you catch yourself.

He slices full power through the wood like it was eager to give way to him. You also find that his face tugs up in a scowl after every swing of the axe, a soft sigh of exerted energy as he tosses the logs to the side and starts up again. You could watch for hours. But, you settle for the few more minutes he spends collecting the wood before you’re scrambling back into your bedroom like you had been there the entire time.

Unfortunately, Joel isn’t oblivious. Still, he spares you the embarrassment. 

There was no reason for him to entertain whatever he thought might be going on. He couldn’t.

-

The next few days are uneventful, though that was to be expected. It allows you time to really settle in, usually curled up on the couch watching the fire crackle away until you thought your eyes might melt away, or reading a book that Joel always seemed to be trying to catch a peek at. There was an innocent curiosity there that you could appreciate.

You also learned that Joel only took his coffee one way, offering up your services to refill his cup while you refilled your own, sugar lingering over the rim and he’s quickly pushing away the small container of crystalized goodness. 

“Joel, come on–” You grimace but relent, placing the cylinder of sugar on the counter.

“Don’t knock it ‘til you try it.” Is all he offers, almost challenging you to take a sip.

You accept, obviously. But, it isn’t without consequence.

The moment the bitterness hits your tongue you’re scrambling away, forcing the mug into Joel’s waiting hands and spitting out whatever putrid liquid remained in your mouth in the sink.

It’s the first time Joel actually laughs, a full on chuckle that isn’t very receptive on your end.

Joel apologizes with dinner that night, a gesture that wasn’t expected or needed, still you’re thankful nonetheless. But, it offers you the realization of just how good a cook Joel can be.

Steaks grilled to a perfection that only came with repetitive practice and learned techniques, vegetables sautéed and seasoned to an enjoyable level, and a side of pasta that if Joel told you he made from scratch, you would’ve believed wholeheartedly if you hadn’t seen him dump the entire box of pre-made pasta into a pot of boiling water.

You’re halfway through dinner, chewing thoughtfully on a bite when you finally break the long, but comfortable silence that had blanketed over you both.

“So, Joel,” There’s a tone to his name that catches his attention, eyes flicking up to meet yours mid-bite, “what do you do for work?”

At this point, your nosey tendencies take hold.

There’s a scrunch to Joel’s nose before he speaks, almost as if he considered feeding you a lie alongside the beautiful meal he’d made. He settles for a simple answer.

“Uh, carpentry.” Joel tells you after a long pause, “I—build stuff for people, businesses sometimes.”

That explains some of his sturdiness, his practiced strength that came from, probably, years of hard constructive work and building. It also explains why he’s also working away at his hands, rubbing out the stiff joints and knuckles.

“I know what carpentry is, Joel.” You deadpan, but there’s a playfulness lingering in your voice. 

You assume he’s used to explaining himself often, which is why he forces it on you so easily.

“And you?” Joel asks suddenly, “College? You’re about that age, right?”

You snort softly at the tone he offers, slightly patronizing, but all in good fun.

“I’m taking a semester off,” You answer indifferently, remembering how disappointed your parents had been about the ordeal, but you were suffocating, “I’m not sure what I want to do anymore.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that,” Joel assures, “can’t fault you either. Never went to college so I don’t have an opinion on it.”

There’s no judgment on your end, but for the sake of conversation, you bite.

“Any reason?” You ask curiously, wondering if you'd receive the similar sentiment that it’s all just bullshit.

“Didn’t have the money,” Joel answers simply, “didn’t have the grades, either. I thought I could start my own business out of carpentry, but…”

But…you lean into the table slightly, hanging on his words.

“You need a lot of money for that,” Joel finishes, “and, I mean, I’m livin’ comfortable now, but that idea took a lot of money that I didn’t and still don’t have.”

“So, you waste it on month long vacations in the middle of the woods,” You surmise humorously, nodding in approval, “can’t say I blame you, either.”

Joel shakes his head in amusement, chewing around a bite as he speaks, “Your turn.”

Right. An eye for eye. A question for a question. He's watching you expectantly, waiting for you to give a response to the same question you asked him. 

“Oh—I work out of this bookstore in downtown Austin.” You admit, finishing up the last few bites of your food, scraping the plate nearly clean. “It pays the bills and then some. I like it.”

There’s no compliment needed for the food, all the evidence of it gone. But, you feel the need to appreciate it anyways.

“Thanks for this, Joel.” You speak again, softer this time. 

“It’s no big deal, darlin’.” Joel assures you, holding up his hands in a feeble defense at the compliment, clearly something he doesn’t welcome easily. “Just food.”

“It’s been...months,” You tell him, “since I’ve had any type of home-cooked meal. Take the damn thank you, Joel.” 

He smirks at that, seeing the threatening fork raise before you utter those final words.

“You’re welcome.”

And he means it.

–

You force Joel to stay seated while you clean, knowing it was the least you could do after he spent so much time preparing and cooking dinner. There’s a solid few minutes of arguing before you have to physically shove Joel back into his chair despite his protests, hands pressed into his shoulders as you threateningly speak down to him.

 “If you move, I’m locking your ass out in the cold.”

Joel wouldn’t mind, but you’re silently hoping that he’ll just listen.

After all is done, tossing the damp washcloth to the side, you sigh with a newfound relaxation.

There’s only one thing that might top off this night, making it almost the first perfect day here.

“That’s it, I’m getting in the hot tub,” You decide, squeezing tenderly at the tense muscles of your neck, thankful that the owners had a small alcove connected to the cabin that allowed for you to enjoy the hot tub from the safety of the cold, “join me?”

You’re not sure what inclines you to ask so openly, but you don’t second guess it.

“While I appreciate the offer,” Joel starts, “I don’t think I brought the proper…attire.”

He’s still seated where you had him planted and it makes you laugh softly at the idea that he was taking it seriously, which—yeah, you did threaten the possibility of hypothermia on him. 

“Fine,” You relent, rounding the corner of the island closest to him as you quickly call out over your shoulder, “but, there’s still a couple of chairs in there if you need the company.”

He didn’t need just anyone’s either and didn’t need, so much as wanted.

He wanted your company.

A while later, you’re already waist deep in the hot tub, figure hugging white bikini tied back securely, arms resting against the side furthest from the door as you press your chin against your forearms and staring out the wall of vast windows that line the room, allowing a view of the snow storm outside, coming down in a flurry that seemed to only be gaining in strength—and Joel, well, he’s still sitting in that stupid chair.

He’s allowed himself too much time in his own head, thinking over the events of the past few days. His call to Sarah was pleasant, a much needed moment of peace when he hears his daughter’s bright, hyper voice on the other end. When he doesn’t have her for the holidays, it’s hard. The calls are sparse, the communication is clipped, and it feels like he’s being forced away from her, knowing that she’s growing older every day. That he is growing older.

He’s allowed a lot of his life to slip away, when he wasn’t working to pay bills and put food on the table he was usually drinking, bar-hopping with Tommy at his old age to hide the pain he felt everyday, mentally and physically. There’s a problem brewing under his skin, using the company of his brother and alcohol to cope with loss he feels so viscerally everyday. The life he could’ve had.

He feels pitiful, miserable—only took this damn trip to get out of town by the suggestion of Tommy, away from all distractions, hoping for a refresh to clear his head. But instead, he met you.

He had no clue what the fuck to do anymore.

Joel’s never processed emotions well, feelings or anything thereof. 

But, here he was, lusting after you. 

He knows it’s the excitement, the taboo idea around sharing something special with a stranger. Someone who knows nothing about you, someone who doesn’t have the leverage to judge. Someone who doesn’t have to know about all the wrongs he’s committed and bad choices he’s made. 

You’re not privy to the fucked up version of Joel that belongs in his hometown, cooped up in his childhood home that he inherited from his parents, filled with too many now painful memories that he’d made with Sarah when she was younger—when he still had her.

He can’t help the way his mind races every single second of the day, constantly worrying, always trying to busy himself with something, anything to keep that lingering cloud of anxiety away. But, when he thinks about you, even something so mundane as the way you squint to get a closer look at a paragraph of the book you’ve probably read a thousand times, his mind goes quiet. 

Because, frankly, he’s fascinated by the idea of you. That maybe, just maybe, you weren’t actually real. He’s halfway leaning toward the idea that he’s had a full mental break and this is all an illusion he’s cooked up in his head, but then he reminds himself that you are just as full a human as himself. There is a reason for this, even if there had to be some other force at play. 

Maybe you needed this as badly as he did.

A fresh start, no judgment.

And that’s why he decides to follow you, the moment he catches a glimpse of you as you turn the corner to take the steps down into the room that connected to the kitchen, a full glimpse of skin and body that he’s tried to keep his mind off of, despite how openly you stare at him.

There has to be something there. He can’t have imagined all of this.

You feel his presence when the creak of wood gives him away, one hand shoved into his front pocket and his other arm helping him stay upright as he leaned against the doorframe. The steam billows and settles like a cloud over the bubbling hot tub but does nothing to hide how see-through your bathing top is and the slick slope of your breasts, his eyes trailing down toward the small bow that was sewn to the midpoint of your top and know he’s staring at your chest, very openly—Joel’s immediately regretting his choice.

Your eyes follow his but you dare not speak, afraid to startle him.

Now who was the jumpy one?

“Change your mind?” You ask curiously, shimming the expanse of the hot tub as you grab onto the opposite ledge, resuming your previous position, closer to Joel now. If you reached out you could touch the edge of his flannel and soak the trim, maybe even pull him closer, but you resist the urge. “It feels amazing. I’m serious.”

It wasn’t a ploy to get him in, but it wouldn’t hurt. He doesn’t respond, eyes staring at the soft wave of the water as it hits your side, his posture rigid. 

Maybe you’d broken him.

“Joel,” You call out with a soft nudge to his thigh, as far as you could reach with your fingertips, cutting into his line of sight, offering a friendly smile, “just strip down to your underwear and get in.”

“I don’t think—”

Oh, for christ sake. 

“You wouldn’t have come over here if you weren’t at least thinking about enjoying the benefits of the hot tub,” You argue, “so stop being grumpy and strip. I won’t even look.”

It shouldn’t sound as gritty as it does, a playful venom in your tone as you sink back slightly.

It makes Joel feel like he’s back in high school, flirting with who would eventually be his ex-wife and mother of his daughter, but there’s an assertiveness that intrigues Joel, your willingness to put yourself out there without fear. Take a leap, a jump, and hope that someone will catch you. 

Joel caught you, he just needed someone to catch him.

You spot his fidgeting, the wheels and cogs in his mind turning and he just needs that shove.

Just enough.

You rise over the edge, palms pressed flat to bear your weight and squeeze your breasts together, belly button nearly level with the water as you’re close enough to see the fine details of his face, giving him a look that Joel couldn’t deny.

“Get. In.” You stress the words, making direct eye contact. “You can thank me later.”

Finally, he moves. 

You sink back slightly into the pool and wade the water until you hit a corner, watching briefly as Joel works away at the buttons on his flannel, quiet air filling with an unspoken tension. You try to busy yourself with the view outside, something that didn’t require you to look in the vicinity of Joel for a second, knowing that the moment felt more intimate than it needed to. But, it doesn’t stop that sparse glances over your shoulder to check on him, now barefoot and pulling his shirt over his shoulders, the fabric pulling and obscuring your view of his face and his view of you, staring so starkly at him in that moment.

It shouldn’t surprise you, but it does. The freckles that speckle his shoulders, nearly invisible from this distance because of his tanned shoulders and the unevenness of the tan as it continues down his arm, varying in shades of intensity, undoubtedly from hours of working in the sun. There’s also a smaller patch of hair on his chest that with his short cropped beard, seems to be trimmed down too. His strong build doesn’t throw you off, though—solid muscle that flexed across his stomach as he yanked his shirt a little harder to get it over his head fully, not built in a way that rippled down his abdomen, but showed a sturdiness to his figure that had your body humming to a tune that reached down to your core, thighs squeezing together under the water. 

Joel passes the shirt off into a waiting arm chair, clothes slowly piling on the cushion alongside your towel and he pops the button on his jeans, still unaware of your…innocent observation. But, the moment the jeans stretch over his thighs you swallow a little too hard and you’re immediately averting your eyes when he looks up briefly. 

Like you’d been caught. 

Joel clears his throat like a warning, as if he hadn’t felt your eyes on him the entire time, and swings a leg over carefully, a view of the black briefs that molded to his skin perfectly and hugged his backside in a way that feels criminally illegal…and you’re staring again.

He hisses at the sudden change in temperate, but inch by inch he lowers and adjusts, eventually huffing out a low groan, eyes closed, when he finally settles on the seat inside of the tub.

Suddenly, this felt like a terrible idea.

“See?” You break the revered silence for him, “Worth it?”

“Almost forgot how you just bullied me in here.” He jokes—full on fuckin’ jokes before cracking an eye open to catch your reaction, a subtle look of disbelief on your face. “I’m kidding, darlin'.”

Your fingers tighten around the edge of the seat under the water and you smile, a half-hearted roll of your eyes thrown his way before you relax too, for a moment.

“This is so weird,” You speak softly, after a while, and Joel looks slightly puzzled as he opens his eyes fully now, perking up slightly as he adjusts himself, chest rising over the water slightly, his arms hanging over the ledge with his fingers gripping the ceramic—and you’re gaze is drifting again, mostly to his hands, but you mask it as you look away briefly, down the hall or out the window. Literally anywhere but Joel, “it’s just—not how I expected things to go.”

“You’re tellin’ me.” Joel replies with an underlying amusement.

As the quiet settles, slowly drifting closer to one side, where you originally were when Joel came searching for you—voluntarily, he lingered and waited, waited for the push you gave him—Joel joined alongside you, burrowing himself in the closet corner nook and enjoying the view in silence.

“You’re awfully quiet,” Joel comments, “everything alright?”

Everything was fine and you couldn’t make complete sense out of it. The ability to be so inherently comfortable with someone you’ve only known for a little under a week, the attraction you felt despite your own rational thinking telling you otherwise, the urge to connect openly and without fear of judgment. It terrifies you.

“Can I ask you a question?” You ask quietly, “Like…a real question, not those superficial ones that we’ve thrown at each other.”

Joel doesn’t like the sound of it, but there’s also the inclination that he could feed you a total lie and you wouldn’t have any idea otherwise.

He nods, fist resting against his cheek as he turns to look at you and suddenly the pressure is on, your heart racing in your chest at his sudden, full attention.

“Earlier…you said you forgot somethin’ in the car,” Joel’s fist clenches unknowingly under the water, an instinct to bury his reaction, “I know it isn’t my business, but I was just curious what is was.”

Joel, against every fiber in his being that tells him to deflect, gives you a straight answer. It’s almost startling how easily it comes out, like he’s lifting a weight off his chest that he’s carried for years.

“I had to make a call,” Joel admits, “to uh—my daughter, she’s back home with her mom.”

Your brow pulls together in confusion, “Wait, are you married?”

Joel somehow amidst the heaviness of admitting his truth still laughs, quick to defend himself from your next question.

“Oh, not at all. Never, actually.” Joel responds, “We…I never married her mom, it was obvious pretty quickly we weren’t going to work well together.”

The answer is simpler than you expect, different too. Part of you wondered if he was pleading his own case to the owners and was just as unsuccessful as you, but this is much more vulnerable.

And despite your ability to lie, and his own, neither of you can force it.

You don’t pry further, feeling like it may push things too far. Too personal.

“Okay, your turn.”

“Do I scare you?” Joel asks suddenly, almost like he’s been anticipating the moment too.

You’re almost sure the expression you return makes you look insane, feeling the implication that he might, that he thinks—it’s so far left field that it throws you off.

“No—no,” You quickly reject any lingering doubt he has, “I mean…the first night, maybe. But, now…no.”

“Oh.” It’s all Joel can muster, unsure of why he was expecting a different answer. That you would say yes and whatever shroud of thought he had about this moment you were sharing was only out of fear, that you were just trying to be polite. 

“Look, I get jumpy because you sneak up on me,” You answer, “and you have this…presence about you,” Okay, not the best wording, “not scary or anything, just…strong.” Big, like a wall. Like, if anyone were to ever approach you wrongly, Joel would attack without question. And maybe the fact that he would do that should scare you, but instead, it entices you.

Joel sits with the implication, burdened by his own mind. 

You can see him lost in thought, speaking with a comforting surety, “Thank you…for telling me.”

The truth. Thank you for telling me the truth.

The next stretch of time, what feels like an hour, is spent in a comforting silence. You think Joel is nearly falling asleep but then he moves, make a comment about how the snow won’t let up and eventually you’re forcing yourself out of the hot tub, reaching over the side to snatch your towel and sending all of Joel’s clothes descending to the floor in the process and as if you had a death wish on Joel, your ass pops up at an angle that is physically impossible to look away from.

Joel is a gentleman, he swears. He was raised to respect and care and always put women first, but there’s a split second where he can’t pull his eyes away, feels like he’s just caught a glimpse of something he shouldn’t have, but then you’re turning your head over your shoulder and you definitely catch him—you could ruin the moment and say something or you could ignore it.

Fortunately, you save Joel some embarrassment, covering it with a sly smile as you apologize for dropping his clothes and take the final step out and wrap the towel around your body.

“Shit,” You quickly realize that in the midst of your pushing Joel to join you that he didn’t have a towel, “stay here—I’ll go grab you a towel.”

Joel wasn’t eager to move anyways, admittedly. Sporting half a hard-on under the water, he wouldn’t subject himself to the scrutiny of your gaze or what implications it would make, thinking every horrible possible thought to will it away—luckily your timing is perfect. 

You quickly gather his dropped clothes and pile them in the chair as you toss the towel his way, ignoring any and all chances to glimpse at his wet body, back turned as you quickly excuse yourself away in fear of the idea that you might say something unforgettably stupid.

-

The walk to your separate bedroom is quick, swift, like a desperately needed escape. 

But, as fate would have it, the moment you open the door and wretch the towel away from your body there’s a loud pop! to your left and a spark on the outside that has you halfway on the floor and slamming into the wall out of both shock and an attempt to shield yourself from whatever unseen force was at play, yelping out loud in the process.

From an outside perspective, you can understand why Joel doesn’t hesitate to come running.

He runs straight into your back, bare chest pressed against your know bare shoulders and leaving you half-dressed in front of him, scared out of your wits and willing to grab onto whatever was nearby to keep you upright—fortunately, Joel’s arm is the perfect anchor as your hand wraps around his wrist and squeezes.

“What the hell?” Joel inquires, slightly out of breath as he searches your face for any signs of injury, “What happened?”

You both look at the culprit—the heated window unit that was no longer expelling heat, and while the cabin was still heated, it didn’t reach the bedrooms well enough that you weren’t shivering without some type of additional help. You sigh in frustration, eyes turning up towards the ceiling as you feel no shame, too frustrated to care as you lean into Joel’s chest.

“Shit.” It’s all Joel offers as a solution, not that you were expecting one. But, still, it would be nice.

“Yeah, shit.” You echo, pushing away from him suddenly to gather your damp towel and a change of clothes, padding your bare feet toward the living room, but Joel is grabbing your wrist before you get too far from him.

“Hey, woah,” He starts in a calmer tone, “you can take my room—I’ll drive into town tomorrow and see if I can get ahold of the owners, we’ll figure something out.”

“I already tried calling them,” You admit, “Earlier. Straight to voicemail and something tells me they won’t be answering their phones until after the holidays.”

Pulling away again, you continue your way toward the living room and gather a few pillows and blankets, tossing them on the larger couch beside the fireplace. Joel doesn’t seem to entertain the idea, following on your heels as he gathers each item you throw in that direction and you finally reach a point of full, unrestrained frustration. 

“Joel, cut the shit.”

“Take the room,” He offers as a counter, “I can sleep on the couch.”

With his back? Not a chance. But, he offers anyway.

“Fuck off,” You chuckle bitterly, “I’m not forcing you out of the bedroom.”

“Then it looks like we’re sharin’ the living room.”

You close your eyes, toss the blanket aside and breathe, clenching and unclenching your fists in an effort to not completely lose it on the man standing opposite of you.

Chivalry be damned, Joel wasn’t giving in.

Fine, two could play at that game.

“I’ll take the bed.” You quickly agree, but there’s a lingering ultimatum.

Joel waits, sees the thought brewing behind your pensive eyes.

“But, so will you.”

“Now—”

“No,” You interject, putting your figurative foot down, suddenly vividly reminded of your vulnerability as you stood there, still slightly damp and in a swimsuit that did nothing to cover your body—it was the reason Joel’s eyes were so pointedly stuck on your face, never lingering elsewhere, “either we both sleep in here on the couch or we share the bed.”

Joel’s hands shift to his hips, towel tight around his waist and you’re too annoyed to admire the way his muscles tense and flex with the movement, the underlying thickening desire settling beneath the surface.

You match his stance, daring him to challenge you.

A small part of you wants him too.

—

“Anyone ever told you you’re damn stubborn?” Joel asks, trailing behind you as you enter his bedroom, a clone of your own but with a small bathroom attached.

“All the time.” You answer truthfully. “I’m going to shower and sleep—no funny business.”

Meaning if Joel did sneak away into the living room to offer up the full amenities of his own room, he would feel your wrath tenfold.

Joel resigns to the idea and gathers his own pair of fresh clothes before disappearing into the bathroom down the hall, leaving you both to a moment of levity.

There’s no anticipation to the arrangement—but the idea is there, burrowing into the back of your mind. 

You’re sleeping with a stranger…someone you knew little to nothing about, but it was your choice. And you trusted your gut. 

Joel was safe, he was good. 

You relax under the spray of hot water, a different heat to the one you enjoyed just a while ago, the type that allowed your thoughts to roam, and you laugh softly at the sight of Joel’s shower supplies, knowing he was stuck with whatever you brought—it wasn’t something you thought about in the moment, but there’s a brief realization that he was sharing a moment similar to your own, scowling at the sight of your fruity scented body wash that you left on the shelf there. It wasn’t a huge deal, Joel wouldn’t fuss over it. 

But, it also lends your mind to roam more.

As if his bare chest wasn’t already at the forefront, and his eyes as they had stared at you so unabashed until the moment he was caught, all innocent looks with deeper intentions that invaded your mind like a plague.

You were so fucking frustrated—annoyed with him, the state of your life, this stupid vacation. With the suds gone and the water drowning out the silence you allow yourself one—just one moment of selfishness...

And as if the house was the biggest tattletale of them all, the floor creaks on the other side of the door.

“Joel?” You call out curiously, as if an intruder in the middle of nowhere was even likely.

There’s several seconds of silence before Joel finally answers.

“Yeah?”

“Your body wash sucks.” You goad lightly, hoping to ease the earlier frustration that had grown between you both, and while you can’t see him, you can hear his laughter on the other side of the door.

“Can’t say yours is any better.”

You smile to yourself, the way he responds with fondness that he tries to hide.

When you finish up and dress, peeking your head out before you move to open the door fully, Joel is already on his side, turned away. It was obvious that he didn’t want to be bothered. The small blanket of division rolled and wedged in the center of the bed like a barrier, a warning. 

Keep your distance and you both may manage to survive the rest of this vacation.

Thank you for reading this to the end! If you enjoyed please extend a like or reblog (with a comment if you'd like, i love reading them <3) to support writers, it helps a ton!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

fairest city food culture

This is a supplementary post to continue off of this larger TWST food culture compilation post (as that one is getting super long as is). Here, I'll cover all the new food-related lore dropped about the Shaftlands and specifically about Fairest City, which features in the Tapis Rouge event.

Shaftlands

Macarons are one of the Shaftlands' signature sweets. Cream and raspberry, as well as lychee, are the popular flavors at the moment.

Macarons can be frozen so recipients can eat them fresh.

There are people who collect the stylish boxes that macarons come in.

According to Vil, mixing flavored syrups with carbonated liquids is common in the Shaftlands.

Stewed foods are the Shaftlands' specialty. This is because there are many stories about the Fairest Queen preparing many foods in a pot.

Apples are the most popular fruit in the Shaftlands. They are used for drinks, desserts, jams, and even savory meal items.

Fairest City

There are few food stands in Fairest City. This is because eating on the streets is seen as bad manners.

There is a strong cafe culture.

Fairest City is famous for its cuisine and sweets. Their sweets in particular are well developed due to the city's cafe culture.

Sweets with a pleasant appearance are popular. The most famous of patisseries make sweets which are like pieces of art.

Some sweets featured in famous patisseries include tarts, chocolate, mousse, macarons, brioche, roll cakes, financiers, mille-feuilles, and cakes shaped like apples with apple sauce inside, caramel apples, etc.

A specialty of Fairest City is "cream puff rings", which are cream puffs in ring shapes. They are meant to resemble wheels on rail cars, since Fairest City is located near mines. It is said that the cream puff rings (which is filled with a thick, high-calorie cream) were originally given to hard-working miners to restore their energy.

Luxury stores may offer amenities in addition to providing their services or helping customers shop. For example, staff may offer VIP clients drinks or chocolates.

Fairest City’s hotels have swanky restaurants built into them for guests to dine in. The fanciest of eating establishments are five star restaurants that have full sets of cutlery and napkins which you unfold and place in your lap.

Fancy dining establishments offer food à la carte (ordered by the plate) and prix fixe style (picking your courses from a predetermined selection).

There is a drink called “Diabolo Menthe” served in Fairest City. It is a spearmint flavored syrup mixed with a slightly carbonated liquid. Very refreshing! (This is most likely a reference to the potion that the Evil Queen drinks to transform into an old woman.)

Eric Venue, Vil’s famous movie star father, uses a five-star restaurant to cater buffets for his movie shoots for every 6 hours of work. They also have snacks and drinks on demand (“craft services”), which includes coffee, milk, tea, juice, chocolate, fruits, and pancakes and waffles. Lots of light foods!

Many dishes at high-class eateries are French. For example, hors d’oeuvres might include escargot (snails), foie gras de canard (duck foie gras), and terrine a la campagne (country-style terrine). Courses are also named in French (viande and poisson courses, etc.).

Some dishes served include boeuf bourguignon (a beef and red wine stew) filet mignon de porc aux pruneaux (a pork filet with dried plum; it is made with pig heart, bouillon, and sauce), and flounder poêlé (flounder with an herb sauce). The beef bourguignon is a favorite dish in the five-star hotel restaurant that caters for Eric Venue.

Pork, especially the heart, is prized meat in Fairest City. Many of its dishes are pork-based. There is a story about how the Fairest Queen needed a heart for one of her potions and had her huntsman hunt as a tribute to her; the filet mignon de porc aux pruneaux dish was born from this legend.

The restaurant that caters for Eric Venue has a specialty dessert called tart fine pomme. It is a thin tart with slices apples. The restaurant uses the highest quality of apples (from Harveston), which are grown in a special soil, for their dishes and drinks.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Oh, this is so nice. It's an 1899 Late Victorian in Salina, Utah. 4bds, 2ba, $449,900.

We're just going to have to accept that homeowners of historic homes are being advised to paint all the wood white in order to modernize, refresh, and brighten while keeping it intact.

The receiving room is nice, has a coffered ceiling and a brick fireplace.

The sitting room has a more detailed fireplace with a display cabinet on top and a columned archway to the dining room.

The formal dining room is lovely, but I'm surprised that there's no fireplace.

The kitchen cabinets are phenomenal.

They've got to be original. Love the way they fit the sink into an antique basin stand. Maybe that part of the cabinets couldn't be restored.

What a clever way to fit a dishwasher in.

The primary bedroom has an en-suite.

It has has a vintage tub and a nice built-in shelf.

It's not usual to find a walk-in closet in a Victorian.

The other bedrooms are on the 2nd level and there's a linen closet, too.

Love when historic homes have interestingly shaped spaces.

This bedroom is small, but it would be a cute child's room.

This stepdown bedroom is lovely.

Cute closet.

The 2nd bath is up here and is a typically vintage space.

The washer & dryer fit nicely on the back porch.

This is nice the water heater was built into a closet.

Patio in the back.

Lots of parking plus a 2 car garage.

The house is on a spacious .42 acre lot.

[dashitsxx]

i might just be in lo-lo-love | hawks x fem!reader

summary. Bumping into him one time was an accident then the second time, until it gradually turns to coincidences. Yet, you've never realized to have your heads over heels for this man.

genre. fluff. sfw.

word count. 600+

warnings. none. just pure fluff <3

notes. inspired by so american by olivia rodrigo <3 it was initially supposed to be long but it was slowly diverting to angst for no reason 😭 anw! enjoy this short one shot! <3

A burst of enormous laughter leaves between both of you. The atmosphere dances in the joy of your relationship as grins plaster on your faces. The music on the radio blasts its harmony as you and him sing forth, enacting gestures and movements.

The speed of the car reaches for the wind as it refreshes the both of you.

Keigo looks at you, a charming smile forms on his pretty lips. You were in a joyful mood, bopping your head. To keep up with your energy, he does the same thing you do.

"You look pretty in my clothes," he smirks as he places his warm hand on your thigh. You feel your face burn as your cheeks are soon painted red, and you clear your throat to focus on driving.

"Stop teasing me," you blush. Keigo only chuckled as he squeezed a squish of your fleshy area. You giggle at the his response. Then, hum with the song.

Soon, you arrived at your destination and the both of you got out of the car. You breathed in the fresh air as you smiled widely and your eyes beamed at the scenery before you.

Being on top of the mountain gave you shivers but from exhilaration. The sun is falling slowly to sleep as it emits a glow of golden light. The trees swayed with the wind with its fluff of colourful variants of leaves. After the fence, the city comes into view.

You sprint with giggles towards the fence before grabbing a hold of it, in awe of the city under you.

"Keigo, this is so beautiful! Come, look at this!"

He watches you run forward as he lets out a grin then follows in pursuit, standing beside you. You had your mouth agape as you carefully studied the cityscape.

As a foreigner in an unfamiliar place, you will never forget how you met him initially, he showed you directions to the restaurant you've been dying to dine at. It took a few bumps of coincidence for you to have the courage, and ask him for dinner. Surprisingly, you and Keigo vibed with each other. Thus, the second date is followed by the third, the fourth, the fifth, and so on.

After all the shitty break-ups and worthless exes you've dated, Keigo was the only man who made you feel like you were a dream to him—it sounds absurd but it's true. However, being in this dream, you fear that sooner or later, you'll wake up to a nightmare... and you don't want that to happen.

"Isn't a heavenly scene? Kei, look there—hey, stop looking at me." You tapped his shoulder rapidly as your gaze lingered on the city.

"I am already looking," you shift your attention to your right side, only to find his eyes on you. You felt a rush of red flowering your cheeks instead you pushed his face backwards.

"Stop it."

"Okay, okay, I will," he chortled as he faced forward.

You place your elbows on the fence as you palmed both of your cheeks, trying to calm the butterflies that emerged in your stomach. Your eyes glance at him on your right side. You spot the corner of his lips tilted upwards subtly as a soft gaze crosses his face. The light of the sun adorned him as it gleamed on his golden-brown eyes. His blonde hair was brushed against the wind and his chin held a bit of a goatee, giving him a suave, chill look. Especially with that casual attire; a clean grey shirt and brown cargo pants matched with numerous accessories.

Oh, why is he so damn handsome?

You feel another rush of butterflies swirling in your abdomen as you abruptly look away.

Oh god, it's just not fair of him to make you feel this much. He is so unfair. Finally, a realization hits your mind that explains your wonders as you let out a silent giggle, enjoying the feels of nature.

You might just be in love with him.

all dividers are from @cafekitsune, thank you <33

[buckyegans]

I need ice man headcannons taking care of pregnant reader or ice man headcannons of being a good husband to reader?

Sure thing! Thanks for the request!

no warnings to my knowledge. gender neutral reader as always!

note: i am such a sucker for tom kazansky…you already know this is lengthy. will feature a mix of civilian! and pilot! reader.

Oh, where do I start? There’s so much to cover here!

Firstly, Tom Kazansky is thee best husband. If there was an award, he would be the winner

Behind that cold and arrogant demeanor is the most loving man who really knows how to take care of his spouse

He’s a big fan of little domestic things. He definitely isn’t much of a cook due to being out most of the day, but he loves to surprise his partner with baked goods (always from a box, but you let it slide). You can’t ever get enough of the infamous Iceman, presenting you with a pan of brownies, smeared with messy icing and stray sprinkles—his smile is what makes it all worth it

House chores? Count on Ice to get it done. While your bed is made with folded hospital corners, you opt not to say anything because that’s just the Tom Kazansky way.

Laundry? He’s quite literally throwing the basket of dirty clothes down the stairs to make his life easier on you.

Date nights are sort of russian roulette. If you’ve both had a long day at Top Gun, take-out is your go-to. If you have a bit of a slower day, maybe you’ll clean the dining room table and pour some wine.

If you’re a pilot, leave it to Ice to make a hard day better. Another aviator said something about you? Done. Lost your helmet? Take his. Forgot your lunch at home? Share his, you made it anyways. Wanna beat him at dogfighting? He’d let you.

If you’re a civilian, it’s much of the same. Your car broke down, Ice is there. Work was tough, he’s bringing a pizza home and letting you lay on top of him while watching a movie, rubbing your back as he comforts you.

Tom Kazansky is a good husband—if not the best. He gets shit on from the guys for being so whipped, but that’s only because he scored someone as great as you.

If his spouse is a pilot, Ice would definitely be protective—but he’d hang back, knowing you can hold your own. He loves being able to compete with his partner and then go home and seperate his home life from his work one. It’s refreshing. He doesn’t think he could stand being able to be head to head in the sky and at home.

Tom Kazansky is a competitive guy. He’ll race you up the stairs, to the car, and he takes board games way too seriously. But, if it made you happy, he would let you win

Again, he loves the little moments. Like when you laughed as you put your cold feet on him in bed, slow-dancing while you waited for the pancakes to cook, or your slow morning routines. Tom especially loves it if you sit on the bathroom counter and shave for him. He doesn’t know why, but it feels intimate. He loves it, and will always ask you to join him if you aren’t busy.

Tom loves your hair. Whether it’s short, long, up, down, curly, or pin-straight, he loves it. Messing with it, styling it, whatever. He likes it in return too, especially when his tips need touched up.

Tom’s kind of a mush. Sappy. Lovesick. He loves to mess with the wedding band on your finger, smiling to himself about how he lucked out on a piece like yourself. He loves to do cliche things—bring you flowers, put a record on and dance in the living room, bathe together, but only if you’re up for it, too.

If Tom is anything, he is such a loser for you. You got new clothes and want to show him? He’s seated—he will even ask you to do a spin for him. You want to tell a story he’s heard a million times—tell him, he’ll act like he’s never heard it. You wanna play a movie—you choose, you like it, so he wants to like it, too.

He is such a fan of everything you do, he’ll always be there to root for you. His main goal in his marriage is for his spouse to feel comfortable with him, and Tom Kazansky will do everything to get to that point.

Tom Kazansky is a really good husband, y’all. He is Husband Material ™

[the-goddess-of-mischief-writing]

Countryside

Oneshot Summary; You visit John’s home for the first time on a dinner date.

Pairing: John Price x reader (sunshine!universe)

Rating: Mature

CHAPTER NO/ONESHOT: Oneshot

Word; 8.8k

Warnings; so godawful much fluff, smut (MDNI, 18+), p in v, dry humping, riding, dirty talk, clothed sex, implied age-gap, DO NOT DRINK AND DRIVE

Author; @the-goddess-of-mischief-writing​

A/N: Ma boy is so whipped😭🥺 Like this is the fluffiest smut I’ve ever written.

SUNSHINE UNIVERSE MASTERLIST

You brush your hand down the silky material of your dress, eyes flickering, taking in your surroundings as you drive down a narrow road. It's barely big enough for two meeting cars.

The area you're passing through can't be called a suburban. Despite driving past varying sizes of houses and their properties rather than apartments, too few people live here.

You're a decent distance away from the city and have been for some while. Something that only becomes more obvious the further you drive. You've met bout a dozen other cars up until now and you presume there'll be even fewer further ahead. The houses you pass become bigger, the accompanying land more expansive.

Once again, you drop one hand to the edge of your dress, dragging your palm down the material to dry off the imagined sweat.

You don't know why you're nervous. This will be your and John's fifth official date and not even anything fancy. Still, it ain't no stroll through the park, wrapped up with a stop at the local coffee shop in your area. No weekday evening spent at your place on a whim. Nor some activity like the last time, when John arranged a liqueur tasting with one of his favourite retailers of his favoured scotch.

This time you are on your way home to John.

He'd suggested it during your last date when you relaxed at your place after the evening of liquor tasting. One that left you tipsy and him, though not close to even slightly intoxicated, smiley and definitely much softer around the edges.

The decision you two would spend the night together wasn't pre-decided. You'd planned to go on the drinking experience and then have something to eat. Afterwards, John would walk you home, and stay for some time, before heading down to his car parked outside your building, needing to go home, as he was scheduled at the base in the morning.

'No deployment, simply meetings and paperwork', he'd said, continuing his argument that more than a few hours was enough for the slight amount of alcohol to subside enough to drive, especially after eating well before and after.

But the night took a turn, though not an unwanted one.

After the tasting, you and John had strolled down the streets, the nippy air refreshing but not chilling. Your hand had been wrapped around his bicep, his warmth inviting enough that you pressed close to his side.

What stopped your tracks was when you passed a pub. John had mentioned he stops by when in the city, 'You should give the food a try, one of the best around'. You looked at him while he'd said it, tugging his arm. It earned his attention, his blue eyes dropping to you from the place across the street.

'I'm not opposed to a takeaway', you'd suggested, feeling how tiredness had gradually settled in your bones. John only smiled, neither he seemingly fancying a dinner at some restaurant, and pulled you with him to the place.

Familiar with the man behind the bar, he was warmly welcomed as you stepped through the doors.

Nothing happened when you returned to your apartment with a takeaway bag. Not as when John had visited that first time after meeting at Marissa's pub... or some afterwards. You'd only sat on your couch, eating dinner by the coffee table rather than the dining table as some random show played on the TV. One you and John criticised between bites.

The enormous portion made you feel stuffed halfway through, which made you flop back on the couch with a satisfied sound. Having balanced a fine line between sleepy and slowly clearing tipsiness, you'd watched John close the takeaway boxes, putting yours in the fridge while scrapping his empty one.

As he returned, he'd smiled down at you. 'Scoot over'.

You'd shuffled to make room for him and once John settled comfortably, you rested between his legs, your upper body on his as your head was propped on his chest.

The sound from the TV faded. The two of you laid like that, having talked and laughed. And then, when you parted from a kiss where you barely contained your giggles for long enough to happen, whatever dry joke of his not wanting to die in your head, 'Watcha sayin', wanna have our next cosy hour at mine?'

He'd taken you off-guard, brows having shot up as you studied John. Soon enough, however, you'd nodded with a grin and kissed him, jokingly having asked, 'Getting tired of the city, ain't you?' John had shaken his head in amusement. 'Only wanna show I want you at my place as well'. He'd made your heart flutter an unhealthy amount as you gazed at him. 'Should I wear that dress then, so I know I'll be let in?'

You'd referred to what John had said the first night he stayed at your place and his home had been brought up.

He'd looked almost bashful for a second before he brought you closer, arms tightening around your waist. 'Gonna let you in whatever you wear, but I wouldn't complain'.

You'd chuckled, leant in close and kissed him after that.

Afterwards, things had slowed and you wouldn't put it past yourself that you occasionally had fallen asleep in his arms. At some point, the soothing motion of John's hand travelled to your neck.

Neither of you had been too invested in whatever played on the TV compared to the other's presence.

'Should be on my way then', his low voice brought you out of your partly dazed, if nothing incredibly relaxed, state. You'd blinked your eyes open, not having slept but merely enjoying the moment. 'You don't think I'm letting you drive, are you?' You'd looked up at him. Yes, you'd wanted him to stay despite it not being the original plan. But John also had enough to be on the verge of a non-road legal amount of strong drinks just a few hours earlier. 'Ain't too many on my roads at this hour'.

He'd tried sitting up, but you stayed put with one of your hands pushed against his chest. 'Stay. Spare you the drive tonight and possible loss of license'. At first, he'd seemed reluctant, but once he'd fallen back into the couch, you'd known it was decided.

'Could almost think you planned this', John had said. 'Was your decision to taste scotch on a Sunday night when knowing you have somewhere to be in the morning'. As he'd shuffled the two of you around, you'd snickered. 'Clever, ain't ya?' He'd mockingly scolded you as you'd laid there, squished between his front and the back of the couch. You'd given him a sugar-sweet smile. 'Incredibly so'. His hand landed on the side of your face. 'Lucky for ya, I ain't gotta be in full uniform tomorrow and have the bare necessities in the car. Otherwise, I'd been forced to go'. You'd beamed after he'd pressed a kiss to your lips.

In the morning, you'd woken up when he kissed your forehead. Bleary-eyed, you'd gathered he'd been awake for some time as he'd already changed to what only could be the everyday attire for soldiers. Tactical pants in a muted blend of greens and beige with a tight-fitted green t-shirt.

'Not a bad thing to wake up to', you'd sleepily mumbled as you stretched, eyes unable to not sweep his frame. He'd chuckled, moving in for a proper kiss. You'd reciprocated the unhurried press of lips with a smile. When you parted, you'd fallen back to rest against the pillows.

'I'm on my way'. John's voice had been low as if not to drag you out of your lazy state too soon. You'd hummed. 'Have you eaten anything?’ He'd been unable not to smile. 'Pickin' somethin' up on the way for me and the lads'. You'd nodded, curling to your side, head burrowed into the pillows again. 'Alright then, have a good day, say hi to the others from me and buy them something sweet in my name'. He chuckled at your muffled reply, kissing your head before he walked out of your room. You'd walked around with a smile the whole day after that.

Now, you knew John would've been right. He probably would've made it home without much hassle that evening, as even now, during the considered universal rush hour, there weren't many people out on the road as you neared his address.

You crossed a bridge, a gentle stream of water beneath it. As you approached an intersection, you looked at the sat-nav, taking the designated right turn. That was when the asphalted road switched to packed gravel.

You were barely minutes away from your destination and your gaze was set straight ahead, attempting to find what property would be John's. However, you soon realise you didn't need to gauge which house would be his on this road, as it was only one at the end. And yet, you second-guessed the sat-nav with a swift glance down and then up. But it was correct, and the easily recognised black rover parked further up only sealed that you hadn't gotten lost.

"Cottage, my ass", you mumble when continuing down the gravelly road.

You saw the fixes John had done to it. The traditional structure of the house was clear, stoney and blocky looking. Walls that probably were coppery bricks previously were now white, structured walls. The roof wasn't tatched but covered in dark brown tiles, matching the heavy wood-lined windows and doors with influences from France.

Upon driving further, the gravelly driveway widened until you rolled up alongside the house's side, stopping beside John's car. The crunch from the wheels was replaced by your feet as you opened your door and jumped out of the seat.

You looked around, the greenery only enhancing the house itself. Despite the house being newly restored and with a fresh look, the land around it still inherits that rugged beauty of a garden let to grow as it pleased yet have behaved.

Wildflowers, in an array of different colours, are scattered here and there in the greenery. Some fruit trees spurt from the more open spaces around the patch of grass further ahead. Green hedges lined the house's walls, those being the most trimmed yet not squared to perfection.

When the sound of steps through the gravel sounded, you turned back, finding John walking from the slightly raised dais that creates a solid entrance to the door that remained wide open behind him.

"John, this looks taken out of a fairytale", you greeted him as he crossed the parking lot to reach you. A smile etched onto his features.

"Then you'll fit right in". John's eyes sweep over you, wrapped in a dress you more or less bought for this occasion. You'd purchased it on a whim, shopping for other things online, unable not to keep tabbing back to the pretty open back piece of shiny white material adorned in pretty yellow citruses and their green stems.

"Flirt", you return, smiling as he stops before you.

He curls an arm around your waist, gazing down at you for a few beats before his head drops. "Hello, love", he finally says close to your lips.

"Hi", you return. Seconds after, John presses his mouth to yours.

You're a bit stunned at his greeting. Previously a hug had been the only thing you shared initially, a kiss not coming until further in. But you don't complain, not at all. In fact, after the last time, it feels right.

As John pulls away for you, you smile up at him, the look mirrored on his bowed head.

"You have a bag?"

"Mhm, in the boot". You nod backwards. Only then does John let go of you, heading towards the back of your car.

This time, you'd made plans to stay or, more so, John had asked if you wanted to when you fixed the details of when and where over text. It had been a no-brainer to say yes.

Even though you'd only officially planned for one night, you packed enough for the whole weekend, a possible reason why a grunt resonates seconds before your booth is shut.

"You ready, or you wanna take in the view some more?" John joins your side, your bag slung over his shoulder.

"I'm ready". You smile, locking your car as he treks forward, beckoning you to follow.

You're immediately hit by an incredible smell when stepping over the threshold and into his foyer. Though your eyes sweep over the open space, noting some of the main pieces around the room, such as the built-in fireplace and thick wooden beams high above your head. Your gaze is instinctively drawn to the kitchen.

It was minimal, following the same colour scheme as the house's exterior. Dark brown cupboards below some light-coloured kitchen counter and windows on either side of the stove.

You rose to your toes, attempting to peek over the kitchen island, separating you from spotting the oven and whatever was in full swing of filling the open room with a delicious aroma.

"Started on a roast". A roast? Your eyes flicker to John as you drop down onto your feet.

"Didn't know you were such a good cook", you say, a smile forming.

"Surprised?" He cocks his brows.

You can't help but shrug, attempting to school your reaction by pressing your lips together. "Can't say I would've expected it, even though you invited me for dinner". John huffs in amusment.

"Mandatory to know how to make a decent Sunday roast". You chuckle, stepping towards him as your raise one hand, settling on his cheek.

Your fingers card to his beard. "Smell more than decent to me", you praise him, palm flattening and fingers curling backwards on his face to pull him in for a kiss.

It's a sweet exchange, shy of lingering too long not to develop into something more. But, as you part, you both smile at each other, content with the brief but somehow meaningful kiss.

"I'll show where you can put your things. The beef got some time left in the oven before I go pokin' at it".

You bite your tongue at John's comment, amusedly shaking your head as you slip off your white sneakers. He does the same to his shoes before you pad after him further into the house.

Rather than going through the open space of the first floor, towards the short hallway with only one door at either side, John steers towards the stairs. You follow him as he heads upwards. While he climbs the staircase silently, you notice how your steps sometimes make the wood creak.

When you reach the second floor, you instantly notice it contrasts heavily with the one below. Compared to the first floor, with its open space and conjoined kitchen, dining room and living room, making the space airy, the second floor was split into several rooms.

The one and first room John headed towards was positioned further down to the left. It was big and with seconds notice, you understood it was his bedroom.

You halt just shy of a step inside. The carpet is soft beneath your feet despite the lack of... simply most things that weren't essential. There weren't many decorations apart from the large mirror on the wall on the opposite side of the room and besides John's closet and clothing rack. Your eyes drift to what parts you from that side, his bed. It's large, placed against the wall on the right and with its end turned outwards. You realise it's the main piece of furniture in the room concerning the sparseness of other things.

That was where John headed as he continued inwards. He shrugged your bag off his shoulder, placing it on the foot of his bed. As he turned to you, he immediately broke into a grin.

"Look like a statue over there". John mused. Honestly, you would take his word for it. It was your first time in his home, meaning it would be impossible to be as bold and comfortable as he'd grown in your flat, enabling him to roam somewhat more freely.

You shift your weight. "Was promised a tour, or did you only mean your bedroom?" You replied, attempting to brush off the remaining nerves with jest.

His head tilted to his side as his hand rose, motioning you towards him, smile softer now. "Come here". When he said it like that, you had no problem walking forwards until reaching his outstretched hand and stepping into his embrace. "Happy to finally have ya here". A warm wave rushes through your body because there's no playfulness in his tone.

"Since when did you turn into a sap?" You reply, looking away from his intense eyes. Not having expected the turn of the conversation.

A hooked finger nudges your jaw towards facing John again, where he greets you with a grin curling his lips.

"And since when did you turn so shy?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed, I'm in your room this time", you reply, gazing into his eyes.

"Oh, I've noticed". John dipped to your level. "And I'm lovin' every moment of it". Before you could instinctually duck your head from the sweet words that struck a cord in your chest, John's lips moulded against yours.

His lips against yours made you relax. Your nervousness faded as he pecked your lips a few times, nudging his nose against yours as he spoke with eyes still closed. "Come down when you've unpacked your stuff and explored here, eh?"

"I'll be down in a few, then". John hummed at your answer, pleased that he felt whatever tension you'd gotten here with had faded.

...

As he'd said, John left you to unpack your things and explore the upper floor while he tended to the dinner downstairs.

Considering you think it's too soon to put any of your clothes amongst John's, you only put some you don't fancy creasing on the rack, leaving the rest in your bag on the floor beneath.

When stepping into the en suite with your toiletry bag, the things lining the sink surprise you. Aside from the toothbrush, there's an arrangement of bottles already lining the counter. You can't help but take a peak, reading 'beard oil' on the flask you'd picked up. You catch yourself smiling as you put it back in place amongst his other items, placing your products on the opposite side.

Stepping out of his room, you head halfway down the hallway, peeking into the room closest to John's.

It's an office, considerably less bare than his bedroom, concerning the bookshelf lining the left wall, the large Chesterfield club chairs facing each other with a smallish table between them before the actual wooden working desk further ached with its accompanying chair behind it.

You don't step inside, respectful of what most probably was his workplace at home. Instead, you continue forwards, past the staircase and towards the other two doors.

As you push the first open, you're met by a bathroom still amid renovation, the plastic sheets lining the floor, the stepstool and tools making it evident. Behind the second door is a spare bedroom. A giddy sensation enters your chest when you look around the considerably smaller space than John's. The room is adequately equipped for someone to stay there. And yet, he hadn't hesitated to settle you in his bedroom.

Without much more to explore upstairs, you head down, instantly spotting John in the kitchen. Though tending to a tray he seemingly had taken from the oven, he glances over his shoulder upon hearing you.

"Settled in?" He asks as he puts the tray into the oven again. This time without the tin foil now scrunched together on the stone counter.

"Mhm", you hum, unable to wipe the smile from your face. By now, your nerves were just a memory. You felt relaxed in a way you never had before. Something about John being so at ease made you fall into the same easy rhythm you always seem to have with one another.

After closing the oven, John straightens up. Putting away the oven mitts, he turns to lean against the counter.

By now, you've rounded the kitchen island, and though you'd planned on stopping there, John reaches forward, grabbing your hip and urging you near. You follow readily, never saying no to being close to him.

His hand massaged the meat at your hip, gently pressing and releasing the flesh as he gazed at you. It was a quiet moment. One where you looked into his blues just as intensely as his eyes flickered between yours. You barely notice how you drift closer, stepping forwards until your feet slot between his.

Your head is tilted back to look up at him. Though you tip to the side when his other hand raise to caress your skin.

It's a soft brush of his knuckles at first, then his palm settles partly on your jaw and throat, his fingers reaching to curl into your neck. The light press of his fingertips into your skin rocks you forward, meeting his lips.

It's not a heated make-out session despite your tongues intertwining. But it makes you warm, a shudder running down your spine. You feel soft and pliable against John as small sounds leave you both. Now and then, it urges small pauses where you linger against one another, neither of you desiring to take the next step where desperation bleeds into the actions.

...

The softness, that mushy feeling in your chest, remains. If anything, it only grows when you cook dinner together.

When you'd parted from John, asking if he wanted any help with the rest of the dinner, he'd attempted to make you sit down at the kitchen island as he opened a bottle of red, giving you a glass. 'You just relax, love', he'd said as he put on some jazz music, the tune humming from a speaker in his living room.

But you'd insisted on helping him and it ended with John overseeing the beef in the oven, checking the temperature religiously while also cooking the mashed potatoes. Meanwhile, you'd tasked yourself with preparing the vegetables and gravy.

Sometimes John stalled in his movement, standing there with his wine glass in hand. You stopped chopping the carrots upon feeling his gaze on you, finding him with a slight upwards tug in his lip. 'What you smiling about?' You would ask, unable not to reciprocate his smile. 'Nothin', he usually would shrug before stepping towards you, bringing you in for a short but wine-tinged kiss.

As you moved around the kitchen, asking John where one or the other thing was, you would place a hand on him, sometimes on his back, other times on his side. He would always glance towards you, you both knowing the kitchen was large enough that you could move without limitation.

When conversation naturally died out, and you stilled in the kitchen, every utensil needed to cook the meal already put forth, you unconsciously hummed along to the music.

You didn't notice. All your attention was set on the gravy you stirred in the copper saucepan. It wasn't until John stepped up behind you, arm curling around your waist, you would catch what you were doing, quieting down. Not because of the man plastered to your back, more so that you raised a spare spoon to ask him whether he thought the sauce tasted good. 'Hm, delicious, perfect timin' for the beef, as well', he dipped and said in your ear before parting from you.

Eating was as good as cooking the meal. It was a split between you and John being a good team in the kitchen, making a mouthwatering Sunday roast, and the atmosphere making it taste even better.

John had dimmed the lights on the first floor, setting a lovely mood without any candles needed. It made the dinner all gentle and slow. You talked, ate, only to talk some more.

Time ticked on, and you never wanted to look at the clock. But, in the end, both you and John felt full, cutlery laid down as you realised you made way too much food for two people.

The two of you agreed to dish off the table when the immediate sated feeling lessened, even if it took a bit longer than anticipated as you got stuck in a conversation once again. Although, when you both finally rose from the table, it felt good moving around.

You helped clean the table, wiping down the counters you'd coked on as well, but when you neared the sink, you were ushered away by John. Suceedinlgy persuaded that he would take care of it.

You took the liberty to roam towards the double French doors, just across the couch group, that caught your eyes during the dinner.

As you wander through the living room, the air is filled with the music and John's rummaging in the kitchen. The gentle sounds fall behind you when you near the white-lined doors.

Catching a glimpse of what's outside, your curiosity sky-rockets upon the lanterns lightening what seemed to be a patio.

You shift your glass from your dominant hand when the doors are within reach, hooking off the clasps with your freed fingers. Without much difficulty and sparing yourself of John calling out in aid, you push them open.

You let the doors stand ajar behind you as you step down onto the patio to let John know where you've gone when he's done.

The big slaps of stone covering the ground are cool beneath your sock-covered feet. They're seemingly placed to create a stable island in the gravel surrounding the four-by-four despite being in the same grey shade. The lanterns you'd spotted were embedded in the softer rocks along the edges of the patio, lightening the sitting area in a soft yellowy glow, further reflected by the grill a few paces ahead.

Your gaze rises, eyes roaming the scenery before you. To the left, around the corner of the house, you spot a lawn and an oasis of trees. But the beauty making you sigh is ahead of you.

A gravelly path that wraps around the house from the far right, one you only now realise is a continuation from the driveway as you spot the rear-end of John's car, separates you from a low metal fence. It's one of those you can see surrounding big-city parks' 'don't enter' areas. Not really stopping you but alerting you of the jeopardy of continuing. Further ahead, you spot the river, or more so, its banks. A lazy trickling gives away the body of water you drove over earlier as it drifts along John's property.

The sun peaks through the sparse area of vegetation and neighbours' roofs beyond the river. It feels like you're dreaming, standing here in the quiet evening. It's so unlike your evenings in the flat, where you can hear cars driving past, the sound penetrating the wall. And on warm evenings such as this one, when you're windows are ajar, you catch people talking as they stroll down the street.

The music from inside reach you still, gentler, quieter, but still a noticeable hum from within the house. It mingles with the trickle of the stream and some insects cricketing from within the surrounding greenery. You hum along to the song playing, only stopping when raising your glass to your lips, sipping your wine, eyes sweeping over the picture ahead.

"If this ain't a sight". You look over your shoulder, finding John leaning against the doors. One hand rests in his pocket, the other holding a low-balled glass with a russet liquid inside.

"Ain't too bad from here either". John smiles at your reply as your eyes flitter over his form.

"Poured me one, figured you favoured finishin' yours", he said, making a motion with his glass you presumed was filled with scotch.

"Yeah, I'm alright", you hum in response, smiling at him. John reciprocates it with a slight upwards tilt of his lips. You catch him pushing off from the doorframe just as you turn forwards again.

Like you, John didn't care to put on shoes as he stepped over the threshold and onto the patio. You'd learned that the man moved silently for someone of his stature. Nonetheless, you felt when he stepped up behind you. His presence gets even more apparent when he circles your waist from behind with his free arm.

You lean against his front, sighing as one of your arms rests over his. John shuffles, sipping his drink before he haunches slightly, notching his chin on your shoulder.

Your eyes slip close, humming along to the song again. Somewhere along the way, you and John begin to sway in place. It's a slow rocking motion, a shift of weight between the feet rather than dancing. Still, it makes you smile,

When you tip your head to rest on his shoulder, the arm around your abdomen tightens, drawing you closer with a heavy sigh.

"Love...". The pet-name whispered against your shoulder is more of a husky purr than anything else.

"Hm?" You question but get no immediate answer in return.

You wait a few more beats, anticipating him to continue his sentence. Instead, John kisses your exposed skin near your shoulder. It's followed with another press against the juncture of your neck. Then one beneath your ear, on that sensitive and lightly ticklish spot that's easily accessible from his current position.

You turn in his embrace, his arm still curled around your waist, hand now resting against the small of your back. While you keep your wineglass to the side with one hand, the other settles upon his chest. Grounding you both as you continue to rock gently.

You stare up at him, gazing into those blues that stray sunlight catches just enough to make shine. Something glimmers in his eyes, something enchantingly profound.

Your arm travels upwards, over his fabric-clothed collarbone and around his neck, fingers curling to play with the short strands of the chestnut at his neck. John's eyes slip close for a few beats, revelling in the sensation.

As they flutter open, his gaze is soft. Still, you catch the gentle fire in them. You can't help but card your fingers through his hair. Moving them up, up until you drag them downwards, grazing his scalp just slightly with your nails. You feel the shiver making John wet his lips and flex the hand resting on your lower back.

His gaze drops to your lips. Yours does the same to his.

You want to kiss him, lean in, slot your mouth with his, and give in to the sweet but slowly heating moment. You almost give in, swaying on your feet towards John. And yet, you pull away when he attempts to meet you halfway.

The low sound of a complaint leaves John's throat as his partly-closed eyes flutter open. But you don't regret not succumbing to his presence. There's something about this moment. Something unlike all the others you've shared despite them being intimate too.

You can't help but smile, stepping out of his embrace entirely. It causes his brows to quirk and his head to tilt. Silent question of what you're doing as he merely watches you raise your eyebrows, smile still lingering.

His eyes only drop from yours to follow your hand as it falls from his neck with a caress, brushing down the same path it did when travelling upwards.

You don't shy from letting your palm glide down his chest and stomach. His attention is heavy on your hand as you feel his muscles' reactionary flex. That's until his blues snap up to watch you taking a step to the side.

You don't let your hand leave him. Instead, you continue mapping his body, sliding over his waist, just above his navy chinos, then around the side of his body, only to let your hand fall when you step around him with a press to his ribs.

In the corner of your eyes, you catch how John turns to watch you walk away.

His warm body had infected your own. Heat melts through your sparse layers of clothing and into your very core. Even more so when you feel his attention on you, positively having stoked the previous fire within them to make his gaze this noticeable.  

When you reach the doors, you look over your shoulder. Even though John had turned, he was still in the same spit. And now, when you look back at him, gazes locking, you see the growing darkness in them. It eclipses his bright eyes like a solstice.

The quirk of your lips is hard to beat down. Not even the glass you rise to your lips can hide it. When dropping your drink, fingers shifting its contents with your grip around its bowl, you deliberately arch your brow, beckoning John with you as you step inside.

And he follows.

His steps aren't calculated or suppressed. They're heavy, meant for you to hear. He moves somewhat quicker than you to catch up when you stop by the table in front of his couch, setting down your wine glass. A second thud swiftly follows yours when he deposits his glass seconds before stepping into you from behind.

He doesn't throw you off balance, not from how his hands settle on either side of your hips, pulling you taunt against him.

"A bloody temptress is what you are". His face presses against the side of your head, sentence husked against the shell of your ear.

"Know you like it". The end of your sentence is breathed as John's hand slides down your front, between your thighs, gripping the fleshy part of your them.

"Fuckin' love it", he grunts, spinning you around with a movement that settles his hands below your ass. The skirt of your dress rises, the edge resting just in line with his pinky.

You barely have enough time to prepare before John crashes his mouth against yours.

A sound escapes from your throat, hands fisting the white shirt tucked into his pants, rucking the material free as you can't do anything but follow him as he walks backwards.

Just as you fully relax into the kiss, he parts from you. You're about to complain until you see why.

John had led you to the couch, sitting down as his shins hit the cushioned seat, naturally urging you to straddle his waist with a tug at your legs.

You obey him, not needing more than this man to look at you with want in his eyes to follow him down on the couch. With knees planted on either side of his hips, you settle in his lap with a slight wriggle.

The jostling makes you grind against John, who grunts as his fingers dig into your waist. But he doesn't stop you. Instead, he develops your action, pushing you down onto his groin, instantly moving your hips back and forth.

The rocking makes you gasp, your hands flying to his shoulder as you fall into the motion, canting your hips at the pace he sets.

"Wan't you to come just like this, love", he breathes, making you whimper. "Wanna feel you come all needy and grindin' on me".

"I-"

"S'pretty all the goddamn evenin'", he groans, his hand sliding under the skirt of your dress and hiking it to your waist, where the skirt bunches. Revealing your skimpy lace panties that make a low sound rumble in his chest. His pinky fingers insert themselves beneath the fabric curved over your arse. "Want you to drench this pretty fabric".

"They're gonna be ruined". John's hungry eyes flicker to meet yours as your head tips forwards.

"Want you to ruin them, wouldn't mind havin' you walk around my house all bare beneath this". He squeezes your waist, bunching your dress even further so he can watch each drag of your hips against his growing bulge.

"John". It should've been a scold, but it's barely more than a moan.

"Love my name on your lips", he breathes as he drags you harsher against him, bucking his hips into your heat to tease what's to come.

You shift your hips just the slightest and the seam of his slacks rub right against your clit. Unable to quieten the whimper, it cut through the air, your own sound making a shudder travel up your spine. You rock faster into him, your panties sticking to your folds from the wetness, something John must feel-

"Wan't you to drench those panties of yours, want to feel you soak through my pants, love. Want to feel how much you need me". You throw your arms around his neck, needing the leverage as he presses kisses down your throat and collarbones.

You can feel it building, gentle and not overwhelming, but still a fire in your stomach as pleasure curls there.

A soft moan leaves you when he guides your hips into your crotch, jutting upwards enough for him to press deliciously into you. The imprint of his cock against your dripping core makes your mind jump ahead. It's nothing more than a bend of the seem covering your pussy from direct contact, but you imagine grinding against his naked cock. Feeling as it nudges you from below, your clit, until positioned at your entrance...

You reach your peak, slumping rather than hurling over it as you lean against John, face burrowing into his warm neck.

"That's my girl", he purrs against your ear, kissing the places he reaches as your legs feel like jelly for a few seconds. You stir slightly, making John nudge your head with his nose. "M'how you doin', love?"

You lean back, gaze locking with his. "M'good, really good", you hum, leaning close to his lips. "Wan't you to feel good now as well". You press your weight down against the fabric straining over his groin.

John groans, not objecting as you reach down, unbuttoning his slacks. Not until you stand does he help you pull off his pants and underwear with a slight arch of his hips from the couch.

While he kicks away his clothes from around his ankles, you slip off your panties. And just as you're about to squirm out of your dress, he rises, sitting on the edge of the couch.

"Keep it on", he rasps, hands gripping your waist. "Wanna fuck you in this pretty dress". He pulls you back into his lap.

When you settle on top of his hard cock, John groans and you pant, reaching a hand around his neck.

"Could've just bent me over the counter earlier". You breathe softly with the rock of your hips, gliding his naked and leaking cock through your fold, feeling him tense underneath you.

"Don't fuckin' tempt me, love", John outright moans as you slide over his shaft on your own accord, his heavy paws doing nothing but clutch your flesh.

"Wouldn't have minded", you stutter as his cocks throbs against you, the pulsing prominent against your nakedness as your head drops closer to his.

"You wouldn't have, eh? That's why you're so wet? Imaginin' me bendin' you over in the kitchen and fuckin' you silly", John mumbles against your lips. You nod wordlessly. "So fuckin' dirty, love, aren't ya?"

"All for you", you sigh, causing John's breath to catch. His hips buck against yours, bumping the head of his cock against your clit, grunting a fuck beneath his breath as he feels your pussy clench on top of him, dripping your arousal onto him.

"So good for me, too bloody good", his voice is thick as he stills you, tapping your thigh with a firm press of his fingers. "Gotta be inside you".

You mumble a string of 'yes' and 'please' in return, rising onto your knees upon his urge.

John swiftly lines himself up with you and you soon begin to sink down slowly, head thrown backwards.

He feels bigger like this, his tips catching at your hole that usually has been prepped by his fingers. His girth drags against your walls once he pops inside, more than usual, forcing you to take it slow.

You clench around him despite your languid pace, causing John's hands to shoot to your waist, halting your movement as he inhales deeply.

"S-stop, love, just... need a moment". Your head tip forwards, met by his pupil-blown eyes, lips parted after his moaned sentence. You feel the restraint he puts on himself, his cock twitching inside you, his thighs tensing. Yet, he remains still, giving you both the time needed to accustom to this new position between you two.

When John's fingers flex slightly and he groans a soft 'yeah', you start up again. You lower yourself until it feels on the verge of too much before rising up, repeating the movement.

Slowly, you work John into you, letting out a shaky breath when your thighs settle on his, sitting properly in his lap.

He's nestled so deep, prodding something that makes your body tense. John feels you tighten around him, your shallow breaths making your body quiver on top of him.

"Takin' me so good", he praises you, one of his hands sneaking down to sit on your hip, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit. Your keen is enough of an answer for him to continue his ministrations. "Such a good girl, eh?"

Although making you flutter around him, John's sweet whispers make you relax while the attention on your clit naturally makes your hips rock. It helps you fall into a slow roll off your hips, still adjusting to his girth but with greater ease.

When finally there is more pleasure than pressure and strain, you rise and fall, starting a slow bounce that gradually quickens, making you mewl.

"Just like that, love". The hand placed on your hip, enabling his thumb to toy with your clit, press a last time into your bundle of nerves before sliding back. His other hand, the one that's rested on your waist, rides backwards, only to meet his other one as he grabs fistfuls of your arse. Your dress flips down, partly covering how his cock stretches you wide as he messages the flesh.

"Ride me so well", he grunts, head craning against the back of the couch, exposing his neck to you.

You take the invite to pepper kisses there, not half-hearted but sloppy presses of your lips and tongue. There's a saltiness on John's skin from the sweat pearls beading at his throat. But you leave an even wetter sheen in its place.

On a particular nibble close to the base of his throat, he slaps your ass, making you squeak and your hips jump. The sudden movement makes you both moan.

"Damagin' government property, eh?" He sounds drunk, voice ridden with lust as his half-lidded gaze meets yours when you sit up straight. Hips still working but slower, a circling motion back and forth.

"They're leaving their marks on you. I want to leave mine too". In the weeks you'd gotten to know John, the scars littering his body were impossible not to notice. Even though you didn't linger too long on the thought of asking about them.

A deep rumbling sound resonates within his chest as he leans up, knocking his mouth against yours in his hurry to feel your lips.

Your hands settle on either side of his face as you steer the hurried kiss, simultaneously deepening it with a tilt of your head. John swallows your moans that bleed into his mouth as you greedily roll rather than bounce your hips against his, attempting to chase your pleasure despite the fatiguing sensation in your legs.

When you part, both panting, one of your arms circles his neck, attempting to gain the help needed as you can't help but let your pace fade. Repeated whines leave you, breathed straight into John's ear, making a breathy chuckle pass his lips.

"Gettin' all whiny when you can't do it yourself, eh?" He teases, shuffling beneath you to plant his feet on the floor, enabling himself to fuck into you from below, meeting each roll of your hips with a thrust.

Your legs tremble, strength vanishing upon the added pleasure, making John wrap his strong arms tightly around your waist, forcing you to slump against his chest as you're kept stationary in his lap.

John's repeated movements make your toes curl as your burning thighs relish when dropping onto his lap, feeling him going deeper into you than before.

You can fully relax as you bounce with each powerful snap of his hips, reaching something so deep inside a zip of electricity shoots up your spine.

One of your hands digs beneath his shirt, enveloping his back, nails carving red trails into his muscles. His shirt rides up, making his tensing abs peek forth and something goes off in your brain, which makes you melt against him.

You're in his house. An almost too-dreamy evening behind you. The moment at the patio. Fucking on his couch. Half-clothed but not desperate, almost feeling like you made...

And that's when you start babbling, the feelings too many, too overwhelming.

"J-John, John, I'm gonna- I'm... you, f-fuck, shit". Your words are a mumbled mess compared to your thoughts filled with a single four-lettered word compromising your feelings.

"Come on, love, I've got you", he mumbled and his word made your orgasm rip through your, shockingly compared to the first one as you hadn't felt the crest of this one near.

You jolt in his hold, forehead leaning against his as you shudder, a broken moan leaving your parted lips. He comes almost immediately after. As if your surprised high tipped him over his similarly unnoticed edge.  

For a few seconds, you only hear the pounding in your ears. Then, slowly, you notice the breaths, air swishing past your lips on each in and exhale. First your own, then John's puffing against your face. Next, you feel his sweaty forehead against yours, realising you're still pressed close to him.

You raise your head, which makes John's eyes flutter open, partly lidded as he watches you. Lazy smiles curl both your lips upward.

You lean down, the kiss is slow to be initiated, your limps simply lingering against one another before neither of you can keep away any longer.

When you part, you become acutely aware of his warm spend inside you. You attempt to wriggle off his lap to stop the sensation that makes your body quiver. But his heavy hands keep you still, causing your mixed juices to trickle around him nestled deep inside you.

"Stay like that", John mumbles.

"But-"

"Hm, not buts. Wanna have the pretty picture of you in this dress, creaming my cock just a bit longer". God, you're set on fire by his drawled sentence, hiding your face in his neck.

"John, you can't say things like that", you complain, face feeling like it radiates against his already heated skin.

If his satisfied chuckle isn't enough, the smugness in his voice tells you he isn't the slightest ashamed. "Can and will". You shake your head, burrowing yourself further into the crevice between his neck and shoulder. He exhales amusedly as one of his hands settles on your back, rubbing up and down soothingly.

You relax into him. "Didn't I say it would end the same?" You breathily sigh.

John hums at first, taking a few moments to deduce what you meant. "You knew what you were doin'". You emerge from his neck, looking down at him. Upon feeling your attention on him, his eyes flicker open.

"Maybe", you reply with a small smile. John rolls his eyes at you before settling his hand that's rubbed your back on your neck, pressing damp strands of hair against your sweat-covered skin.

"Yes, you did", he hums. You shrug, which makes him tug you down into a kiss.

"Can't deny you did the same", you part from him for a second to say. "With your staring and touches in the kitchen".

"Hm, fancy havin' someone to cook with", he said with a small smile and tilt of his head. "Could say I like havin' you around".

Your chuckle. "Well, I would hope so". John smiles up at you for a few seconds and presses a lingering kiss to your lips before saying anything.

"How much did you pack?"

You cock a brow, smile slowly curving your lips. "What would you think if I told you enough for a few days?"

His eyebrows jump. "Planned to stay the weekend, eh?"

"Suspected that you would ask". John chuckled heartily at that, making you bounce in his lap. It died off in a deep sigh as his hands dropped to your hips, thumbs circling your hipbones.

"Right you were".

You linger in the post-orgasmic euphoria a while longer. Sharing kisses and soft caresses until the stickiness between your legs grow uncomfortable, much like your sweat-slicked skin.

"Have a shower here that ain't in pieces and that I can use?" John chuckles before answering.

"Can use the one in my room".

You nod, pressing a chaste kiss to his lips before you attempt to get off his lap. But his hand remain firm on your hips. "John?" His name is a question of why he doesn't let you go.

"Only lettin' you go if it's an open invite".

"And you called me a menace". You roll your eyes, despite not being against showering with this man pressed close to you. "Come on then". He let you slide from his lap, allowing you to tug him from the couch.

As your dress fell around your thighs again, John pulled on his slack, bare underneath.

"Going commando, not scared you'll dirty them?" His eyes jumped towards you as he made a scene of picking up your panties and putting them in his pocket. His boxers followed but were stuffed much less delicately into the other one.

"If you didn't notice, love, you already soaked them". He grins as your eyes flicker to his groin and the partly zipped-up pants. Indeed there was a half-shiny stain on the front.

You flush, cursing him under your breath, which only makes him laugh and pull at your skirt, making you step towards him.  

"No need to be embarrassed, love", he kisses your cheek as you defiantly turn your head.

"No need to be so smug about it". You turn to John, looking up at him through your lashes. But it's hard to remain pouty when he softly kisses the side of your mouth, then your lips, despite the glint in his eyes.

"I'll make it up to you", he mumbles in-between sweet pecks before nodding for you to take the lead towards his room and shower.

This time, you're walking ahead as the two of you ascend the stairs, only to stall halfway when you catch a grunt and deep breath from John. You stop to glance over your shoulder.

"Doing good?" You watch his eyes flicker from somewhere low to meet your eyes.

"Real good", he says, stepping up to you. He kisses you briefly, remaining a breath away when he pulls away, looking at you. "But don't be surprised if we need to shower twice. This sight is a weakness for any man".

You hadn't noticed how his hand crept underneath the hem of your dress and beneath your skirt. But, at the end of his sentence, his fingers reached your bare pussy, swirling his fingers around your folds, sticky with both your juices. You gasp, eyes widening.

Though oversensitivity hasn't settled yet, his dirty action and the realisation he must have had a downright filthy view of your nakedness when walking behind you is the main reason for your reaction.

"You're fucking insatiable, John Price". Your pitched voice makes him smirk, pulling away his fingers.

"All for you, love". John's hand settles on your thigh, dotting your skin with your combined arousal as he tilts his head. You can't deny him the kiss he leaned in for after those words that already makes your achingly warm heart jump a beat.

When you pull away, you shake your head. "At this rate, I expect something sweet when we cuddle later".

"Asking for dessert, love?"

"Yes, I am", you huff, continuing up the stairs, feeling his eyes on you as you reach the top and step onto the solid ground of the second floor.

"Maybe you're the dessert, eh?" Walked right into that one, you think. Still, you send him a look.

"Dog, a downright dog", you scold him, but John only grins in return as he progresses up the stairs.

Your scold clearly doesn't work when John opens his arms with a suggestive wink. It makes you slap his chest when he joins you on stable ground. Though neither that deters him as he loops his arms around your upper arms, caging you against him with a defeated and delighted escaping you as you two stumble towards his room.

[cherrsnut]

Hostage - Chapter 3

Finnick Odair x Healer!Reader

Summary: Up until now, your life has been a solitary one. Being the sole owner of an herbal shop, and apothecary to many fishermen who have been injured. Just when your life seemed to follow the routine you were so used to, your life turns a 360 when you’re suddenly taken away for the 67th Annual Hunger Games. This turn of events forces you to accept the idea the Grim Reaper is stalking close behind you, faster than you had hoped for. 

Tags: Extremely Slow Burn, Eventual Smut, Angst, Typical THG Violence, Forced Prostitution, Forced Lab Rat, Injury, Mental Health Deterioration, Psychological/Physical Torture, Death, Alcohol/Drug Consumption, Medical Malpractice, Fluff (bc they deserve it).

Word Count: 6k

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Chapter 3

The shimmering light of the moon reflected the pine trees of a never-ending forest. It had been a while since you’d left the sight of the sea, and with that so did the comfort of your homeland. 

You weren’t sure just how deep into the night you were, the only indicator was the high position of the crescent moon,  and you guessed it was late. 

You were at the salon, or at least the replica of a salon inside the car of a traveling train. It was as quiet as the night offered. You tried to mimic the silent stillness from the moon, all because it wasn’t in your best interest in waking up the rest.

The lights had turned on automatically, probably with some sort of motion sensor that detected your sneaky movements. It startled you, it was one of those things you got easily used throught the sunny day, not so much during the night.

You thought of turning around, worried that someone took notice of your presence, but your stubbornly nature breathed in your ear to keep going, and it embarrassed you the idea of returning back to your room, after all the self convincing through the pillow, so you were committed on what you had set out to do.

The living area was big. It connected all three rooms, the kitchen, that adopted a smaller size than in a regular home; next to it was the dining room, which consisted of a large wooden table accompanied by the chairs of the same material and colour; and then a normal salon, with its shelves and books, comfortable couches and armchairs, with the TV, the one you had been seeing earlier that day. You could only but respect the creator for its clever interior design.

Your eyes scanned the room you just walked in. You had seen the alcoholic beverage when you all were tracing a plan, or better said, attempted to trace a plan.

You had taken notice of its presence, the delightful idea you’d drink it later tied a noose around your mind, and you were content to announce the time has come for its consumption.  

With the distinct shape and light glass color, you knew it was white wine. The name of the brand was unfamiliar to you; but with its inky and sophisticated handwriting, one that could only belong to the signature of a fancy family. As soon as that thought crossed your mind, you knew the wine would live up to it exquisite taste you were forming in your mouth. 

That's why you wanted to try it in the first place. Just like the many delicious pastries you had tried merely hours ago. Once the succulent sweet taste bombarded your tongue, you knew the cook’s trained fingers had been blessed by the sin of gluttony itself. The strawberries at the very top was enough to make you believe it to be an addicting forbidden fruit, one you were glad 

you had been honored to try out.

Your mouth watered at the idea of what a good wine would be considered between the rich society. Would it be more bitter? more sweet? more refreshing? would it be thicker? 

There was only one way to find out.

You looked at the kitchenette, roaming your eyes all over surfaces of it. Silver colors shone throughout the metallic counters, filled with dusty spices, all collected from the unique lands of the Districts throughout Panem. They sat quietly on the kitchen counters, ready to be used at any given moment. 

You walked over there. You realized the light bulbs couldn’t cover the whole salon, and it was especially dark over the kitchen area. With the many corners and countertops, it casted many shadows to whatever hidden treasure lay there, and you hoped to find your drink beneath those lurking shadows.

And you did. Just like what you had thought, the sharp shadows camouflaged your drink. This piece of concealed alcohol though, was not on its own. It had been placed along other alcoholic beverages, from rose wines, to different versions of rums. All in carefully and delicately crystal bottled designs, with odd edges and shapes, but it still screamed for its exclusive taste. 

You went to grab onto your preferred wine choice, the white wine your mind lingered ever so slightly for the past hours, and grabbed a glass, which consisted  of rummaging through the kitchen metallic cabinets. 

And ice cubes, you nearly forgot about them. You thanked the Heaven’s when you found them, it was a definitely easier find, all silently still in the freezer.

You walked out with your self-proclaimed possessions, and plopped them down on a rather small table by a funny looking mustard couch. You had to start getting used to the colour explosion the people of the Capitol seemed to be overjoyed with.  

You went to grab the foggy beige bottle, a good indicator of the type of whine that laid inside. You went to fully seat of the couch, more like you willingly fell on top of it. Fingers quickly snacthed the bottle. And as you handled its throat, you heard something similar to light growls coming through the wall. All your connected joints stopped, in an attempt to make out what exactly what exactly were the noises. The tone was very much low, and all the words were scattered around into incomprehensible words. You pressed your ear further into the only thing separating the two of you.

By that point, you had realized the low sounds was a conversation that was happening on the other side, making the wall the only barrier between the two of you. A frustrating sound came out of your lips, you hated how the wall was thick enough to block out the anything coherent, and your nosy ears were left unsatisfied.

Two people talking, you were sure of that, and you also knew that they were slowly and creepingly getting closer to you.

But before you thought of your escape plan, an electrical-like sound resounded across the room just softly. It would have been very much unnoticed during the lively day, especially considering Scarlett’s exhausting hyper energy. But in the complete silence of the night, one that even the noise of the rattling rails were enhanced. It was the sound you could recognize now, a you knew you had just been exposed. The automatic doors just opened.

“Should we really wake them up?” spoke the large male, specks of the bronze you earlier described hidden under the artificial light, which made his hair take upon a more goldish colour. 

He looked on his back, waiting for his companion to respond to him. Scarlett joined him in the room, her long and white hair, so well taken care of that anyone could’ve confused it with a spider’s silk. 

“We don’t have much time to spare, we need to go over the schedule” Scarlett spoke. A stunned look came across your face when you noticed she still had the beautiful face paint across her sharp and witty features, even in the early hours of the night. 

“I understand that-“ Finnick crossed his eyes to follow Scarlett’s figure, but in doing so, a black shifting figure appeared in the corner of his eyes, and its presence asked for his attention. So when he looked over there, he found you on the couch, the bottle of wine still in your arms. 

He made an expression, and it that moment you knew exactly what the elders meant by the saying ‘Dear in Headlights’. His sea green eyes, a sea that upon stepping into the water you’d be welcomed by the underwater green nature, had gotten noticeably bigger. It was the initial shock for him had that him planted by the entrace, you knew he wasn’t expecting you. Even more less, you gripping onto dear life to the wine. 

Scarlett noticed the absence of Finnick’s sentence, so she looked back at him with a pointed stare wanting to know why he had stopped talking. His face suggested for her to look in the direction of what he was facing, and so she did. A big noticeable grin appeared on her radiant white teeth after encountering your very awaken form. 

“Wonderful, you’re awake!” she exclaimed, clapping twice in approval. You just stayed there, paralyzed. You had come out to drink the refinery of the Capitol, all sneakily as had you assumed it would be the same as in District 4. The usual, ‘you’re a minor’ kind of talk. It had been harder to digest the fiery feeling coursing through your bloodstream, to your knowledge, only alcohol could provide you. 

You weren’t the type to break the rules, always following what the law preached. But when it came down on taking more priority on curious adolescents wanting to try out a new feeling, over questioning the literal slaughter of said adolescents, you could admit confidently, the system was equivalent to a singular bullcrap. 

Mags was the last to come out, her very small and frail body coming out from behind Finnick, 

who still looked at you funnily. He didn’t utter a word, still in his trance. The bottle was still in your hands, and you knew deep within your very core existence, it was going to take up a real fight for them to take it away from you.

Mags on the other hand chuckled sofly at his side, which in turn took Finnick back to reality, something you were thankful for Mags. You were sure if he kept staring you like that you’d just run back to your room from the utter humiliation. The whole situation felt silly in your hands, especially considering your fingers still gripping onto the bottle. 

“I’ll go and get Vito” offered Finnick as he walked past the tall slender figure of Scarlett, and made his way to get your District partner. 

Scarlett went to sit beside you, almost like she felt close to you on a personal level, all connected by the power of the wine. She held her glass of wine to you, a hungry smile as she waited for your hands to pour down the liquid into her transparent glass. 

Mags sat in front of you, onto the armchair from the same yellowish colour as the couch you were currently leaning agaisnt. She was grinning at you. A mischievous color swam through her grey irises that were were pointing at you. There was something sweet about you only Mags seem to notice, and she seemed amused by your particular behaviour. 

“Have you tried it? It's delicious” Scarlett recommended you, a tone lower from the close proximity she had closed, and it seemed to her that there was a new level of vulnerability between the three of you. The flowing liquid brushed past her coloured lips, and where it not for the bubble that formed from inside her throat, one that it quickly disappeared to her content belly, you wouldn't have realized she had already gulped down the drink. It was sophisticated one, one done with the sole intention to savour the unique taste, more so for one’s survival. 

You moved your head no, a little shy after being caught during the act. But were you? Exactly what were you doing that was so wrong? Everyone present seemed so nonchalant about it, so used to it, you coudn’t help but bury yourself deeper into the depths of your own embarrassment. You coudn’t help but ask yourself why you hadn’t asked them earlier if you could take a sip

And with that, you were sure you were going to do a little session by the great name of self-ridiculization when you were alone, which meant screaming off to your pillow.

You took a pity sip. Just like what you had predicted, it was everything but disappointing. The way the beverage was made was very much different from all the drinks you shared with Edna. This one, was lower on the bitterness, and whoever wrote the recipe made the correct decision to add the sweet fruity taste to it. That was the secret ingredient, the sweetness almost overpowered the cringing taste of the alcohol, and a bubble of sparkling water tickled your throat when you gulped down. Truly delicious.

Scarlett winked at you, a bigger grin appeared on her face. You looked over to her, and for once her very presence didn’t feel excriciatingly annoying. Her hyper overjoy she always seemed to wear on her cheek easily exhausted anyone present, especially when she seemed so eager to talk about the Hunger Games.

You had taken notice of Mags scanning eyes over your essence from the very moment she sat just in front of you. So you gave a pointed look, a one questioning over her roaming pupils on you. Mags responded with another smile, a gentle and mature one, from a woman with decades of experience ready to reveal the secrets of a human’s purpose in life. The way her eyes closed when she bore her teeth out, gave you the understanding she didn’t have the slightest intention to spill out whatever was going on through her mind.

You sighed along with the welcoming steps from both Finnick and Vito. A second barely passed when the two appeared through the door. Finnick was in his still living sculpture form, created by an artist filled with the purest form of infatuation, his passion for the beautiful creatures that lurked on the breathing planet, and definitely taking upon the inspiration of the gods of beauty and hypnotic perfection, and thus he was born. 

Vito was close behind him, a look that gave away his tumultuous mind. His eyes shoned the void of his black irises, that seemed to have merged with its pupils. His rustled hairs hung in messy strands, evident of his attempt in walking into a deep slumber. A pair of silky beige trousers attached to his hips. His button-up shirt he was using as nightly gear, had been hanging around him loosely, and your working quick eyes noticed just how he was interlocking each button for its respective hole just as he got in the salon, suggesting he’d just worn it for the courtesy of joining your reunion.

You couldn’t stop the sarcastic thought from drilling your mind ‘How kind of the them to provide its Tribute’s with pleasantries' regarding with existence of the clothing provided by the Capital. But it wasn’t just that, it was as well the rich dishes and product designs. You very much enjoyed them, but you coudn’t help feeling it was a direct jab at you former way of life, a much poorer lifestyle than theirs. 

Everything was great, you had been the first to enjoy them, but it still felt icky to your senses. It is as if the Capitol was trying to ridicule you in some way or another. 

Vito followed your pointing eyes, a tired greeting. He probably stayed in bed, waiting to be taken by the realm of dreams, hoping when he woke up everything was just but a terrible nightmare. And that feeling sunken within your heavy chest.

Both men sat down beside us, and Vito couldn’t help but travel his gave along the table, finishing to see past your fingers to Scarlett’s. He’d taken notice of the bottle you both were sharing, and a hollow feeling sat on top of his heart. He barely mumbled something audible.

“Is that wine?” Vito’s voice was weak when he let the words escape. His funny look, essentially identical to Finnick’s, mimicked the way his tune sounded, confused and perplexed. 

Something about Vito you had realized was the way his face was exactly that of a transparent mineral. Everything he built himself with, every opinion and moment of decision, was all said through his eyes before he could even speak them. 

“Why are you drinking wine?” he questioned your actions, with the ingredients of a slight judgemental tone, and an astonished murmur. He specifically looked at you, trying to find the broken wires inside your brain, the ones that made you make circuit-breaker decisions.

“Why not?” you asked back. The difference in tone was surprisingly abundant. His was more weak and slow, begging for an outer force to comfort him; and yours was simply more cutthroat and defensive. 

He didn’t say anything else after that, bewilderment spoke his eyes. His lips fell apart, trying to find the words he wanted to say. But he couldn’t, not when he was so stunned at your answer. An he supposed  the problem didn’t come from a circuit breaker, rather you were suffering from unmatching wires that had been wrongly connected.

“Edna always told me. ‘If I’m able to stitch back a four-inch infected laceration without the need of any painkiller, I was old enough to drink alcohol’ ” You repeted those wise words your teacher and, later considered grandmother spoke. The words and phases that echoed through each rib, in a never-ending cycle of teachings that clung to you like a piercing fishhook through warm flesh. 

Vito kept his stare on you, unable to comprehend you. The dark circles that were slowly creeping up under his eyes came from the instilled distress that overpowered his body. He appreciated what you had done earlier, he’d be lying if he told you he didn’t need it, that he was alright. The sickening idea that both of you were going to be placed in a mortal arena fed his sleepless anxiety. The screening scenes from previous Hunger Games editions pierced his soul, like an arrow to his heart. 

He found himself taking back his initial thoughts though. He previously found himself relieved when his partner was someone unknown to him, someone he only knew in passing, that he never had a heartfelt conversation with you. The guilt of those primal thoughts runs his blood cold because after what you had done to him, a complete stranger, the comfort he needed for the simple reasoning that you were concerned about him.

You were a good person at heart, and you didn’t deserve to die in such a cruel fate. In the middle of nowhere, where even nature itself is out there designed to kill you. With the background of the meaning of the Hunger Games, many Tributes grew desperate to try and change their hopeless destiny. Their minds break inside that Hell, and with fear running their imprudent’s choices, they kill whoever is set in their way. In this game, you had to let go of one’s nature and belief with the off chance to see another day. 

So when he saw you with a glass of wine in hand, he couldn’t help but be resentful over your shown obliviousness to the whole situation, or maybe you just weren’t as concerned as he dictated you should be. He appreciated what you had done back then, reassuring him everything would be alright. But deep down he knew those words were empty in the ears of fate, and you couldn’t guarantee the outcome even if you wanted to. 

Your lips took another gulp of the wine, he felt as though the earth would bury him alive. Just then a crumbling thought avalanched his mind. His soul felt heavy, and there was nothing he could do about it. He felt personally victimized, wishing you had never been picked in the Reaping, and all thoughts of earlier gratitude subsided and felt personally betrayed by your words.

You tasted the addicting wine once again. Your head moved to Scarlett’s, praising the wine choice whoever picked for this journey. 

“This will be the death of me. It's like a delicious poison running through my veins” you told her delighted. There was something so pure about the way a refreshing wine glass traveled through your entire body, that felt like swimming under the humidity of the summer’s heat.

“Oh ho ho” Scarlett chuckled at your comment. She was good drinking company, you had to give her that. She unknowingly distracted you from your oceanic torment, taking away the pleas of your mind to give in and open your eyes to what you were truly feeling.

“I know someone who you’d get along with” She spoke again, a giggly voice present. 

“Haymitch, right?” Now it was Finnick who joined in. Another small grin appeared on his face, however small though, it lit up the room just as if he bore his sparkling teeth out. And, god, you had to stop yourself from forming a curse after seeing his beautiful dimples. 

“I could see you two becoming close friends” he added. Green eyes attempting to read behind your pupils.

Haymitch. He sounded familiar to your ears, but you couldn’t quite picture him in your mind. And just as you went to ask for who they were referring to, Vito's voice became clearer. 

“Are we going to form a plan or not?” he sounded strained, stress had been building up his senses, and you felt once again guilty. “Look, I just want, even a half a chance to win this” he added. His voice hinted that he was mad, and it wasn’t his fault you had already given up. 

“Please,” his eyes maneuvered to Scarlett. “Tell us what to do. How do we gain sponsors” You heard just how he tried to bite back a crack. “or how to not die out there” The intensity of his stare made the air tense. Even Scarlett, the queen of making everything as lighthearted as possible, didn’t say anything back. She just stared at him, her words stuck to the back of her throat, and his low tone disorienting her brain. 

You placed your wine glass down. Your eyes stole his glance, before speaking out your thoughts. 

“Vito” you called out to him. And just like his voice, you saw how even his obsidian eyes cracked with each passing minute. 

“I’m close to incapable of even protecting myself,” you confessed, and that hard acceptance soaked your mind. There was nothing for you to do. 

His hard stare begged you to continue, because for him, at this point he’d listen to anyone, even the defeated conclusions of a self-proclaimed goner like yourself.

“But I know how to heal you. I know how to wrap up an open wound. I know how to slow down an infection. And I know for sure, I’ll do my best to stop any type of poison spread over your body” you told him. You understood him, understood how he was feeling, and how desperation ran miles over his head. 

“I’ll be out there to take care of you. But I need you to promise me one thing.” his stare was pointed at you, and no matter how distracting his surroundings may be, he listened carefully to your words. 

“I need you to stay by my side. I need you to protect me when I need it. And I promise you, I’ll be there to look out for you” The light bulbs shone in the sclera of your eyes, just as hard as the tone of your voice. 

He nodded, agreeing to that verbal contract, and he was ready to carry out the duty you just placed on his shoulders. 

“I’ll be there by your side until you proclaim yourself as Victor.” you gave him a sad smile. It seemed that’s the only thing you do these days. A smile in the face of a terrible tragedy. 

He looked away from you, into the crown of the passing trees through the window. He seemed more relaxed, more confident. And in the lingering silence, no one dared to interrupt the meaning behind your despairing words. 

The victors of the previous games looked at you. You felt isolated behind their gaze, and you couldn’t even return their pitiful glance towards you. The irises on your eyes traveled outside the train car,  through every single tree, and it felt like you moved as fast as the speed of light. An open gap between your tight chest, that’s what it felt like knowing every passing tree meant getting closer to your imminent death. It felt philosophical in a sense, just how the leaves your eyes landed on, quickly swifted into the next one, like a prophecy that your end was happening soon. And the usual childish thought that the trees were waving you farewell with every wind brush, fell too real for you. 

Vito grunted some words, but you were unable to hear them, too focused on the melancholic song your body sang. Aside from you, the rest looked at him, and his gaze returned to each one of them. An internal conflict stood beside him as he thought out his mind. Finnick looked to Mags, and she returned it with another, understanding just what lay in those ghostly words of yours. They knew what you were implying, you didn’t need to say it, the meaning of grief stayed prevalent in the air you all shared. 

“What about you?” he muttered just above a whisper, but you still understood the meaning of his words. He was going to force you to say it even when you didn’t want to. The words you kept hidden, for your own mental protection, so you woudn’t crumble in that very instant.

“What about me?” you asked back with a sneer. A tone anyone understanding the implication of the conversation would realize to be in self-mockery. Vito lost his voice again, hanging his lips apart to dry his tongue. A piercing pain hurt his heart like a freezing icicle to his soul. 

“In the end, it's better you come out as the sole victor.” Those two words, they were the final blows of the crack in your soul. Just like someone smashed a mirror after seeing their body reflected. And it was even harder having to act stronger than what you actually were, because deep between the layers of deception and half-truths, a house that only hopelessness and hurt habited. But there was nothing you could do about it, it was better to accept it now, so when you’d be faced with your impending moment, you might as well feel at peace for the life Edna had the chance to give you.

“I’m making my peace with death.” you smiled with nothing other than the wrinkled lines of mournful acceptance. Everyone looked at you, and Vito gave you a displeased glare, one you knew he was about to try and pick up a fight at your words.

“Look, I've been on my own my entire life, and I’m fine with it. I’ll die just how I lived, alone,” you spoke before he could even refute back your stubborn thoughts. But he couldn’t accept it, and it hurt his soul just looking at your pitiful face. 

“We need you alive” a loud husky metamorphosed his vocal chords, with a more aggressive tone than you had gotten used to in the little hours you had been with him. A venomous stinger struck you unannounced. You knew what he meant, the fishermen you had brought up earlier. 

“The Peacemakers are being a pain in the ass lately, the Herbal Shop will close sooner or later anyway” you tried to debate, any inkling of gentle softness leaving after what felt an attack at his hostile tone.

“You’re absolutely right. Your victory would shut them up” sarcasm placed on his mouth into a grin, a scoff vibrating the back of his salivary tongue in his in disbelief. His crease wrinkled at the middle of both his eyebrows. But what you could not fathom, why was his hard look directed at you. 

“That’ll stop them raking your name through the mud” he added in venomous grace directed at the people who were supposed to ‘maintain peace’. And yet, it didn’t feel the least be sympathetic. 

“My name’s been through a lot. I can take it” you talked back. You had to bite your burning tongue so it wouldn’t mention anything about his unexpected and detestable attitude.

“Well I don’t have your knowledge or skills. I’m easily replaceable” It seemed he always had something back to say to you, but it never convinced you, not with your stubborn nature. And yet, you were left speechless. You weren’t sure as to why he’d become so aggravateted all of a sudden. 

The confusion that sparked in your inner central core only left you empty. You weren’t sure as to why he’d gotten so hostile. Vito just scanned your face finding any clue of your swirling hidden thoughts inside of your head. He just wanted to swim across from your sea current, he wanted to break apart your mind, so you’d understand his point. He found himself close to finding the secrets you wanted to keep hidden under a rusty lock. 

Your lips parted, and the way your pupils shoke in trying to find a reason as to why he was perked up, only made his shimmering eyes spark in his further determination. 

Now it was you who stayed quiet, still in a messy stupefaction running your mind. You wanted to say something back, bite at his words and make him understand that if it came to sacrificing, it was a better option for your to take that blow instead of him. 

In the absence of your voice, Vito continued on. 

“As soon as the Hunger Games start, run far away from the Cornucopia. I’ll get everything and come back to you” his voice was much lower, the excruciating energy he managed to surface was gone. At least not in an explosive way, but the way his tune forced out intimidation for you to listen to him. You blinked at his words, and a little not right stepped on your face upon his pathetic excuse of a plan. You licked your dry lips.

“What? No!” you started. Just as this conversation continued on you coudn’t help but feel like someone slammed against your body, from each word he tried to reason with. You sighed internally, deeply exhaling the breath as a means to get you to calm down. “You’ll just die there” you replicated to him. You surprised yourself when the implications of your words sunk your heart deep. Vito could die.

 “And we need you alive” You elevated your voice, as you defended your reasoning against his immediate thought process. Like the calamity of a sea storm clashing against the sharp stones of a cliff, fighting against the aggressive nature of the submerged waves.

“You’re more necessary back home. I’m more than willing to die-” his frsutration could only but become increasingly bigger when you cut him off. It was far past him, the realization that two clashing thoughts could never end with one winning victor.

“Your sisters need you alive. Your family needs you alive” you raised your voice, not enough to be considered that of a yell, but loud enough that the energy that escaped through your pores left burning marks on the people around you. 

And it was loud enough that you long forgotten, and didn’t care, about anyone else who’d still be asleep in the train ride.

“Just listen to me!” Vito screamed. He wanted to shut you up, and he reasoned that by leaving you as astonished as you were, he could explain as to why he felt like it was better for him to be buried against the hard bloody floor of the arena. 

And you were dismayed. All words you wanted to speak run back down your throat at the sheer audacity you felt. So you looked at him, nothing but critical in your glare. You couldn’t leave his eyes, threatning pupils cheering him to challenge your very being again. 

Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it. Don’t say it.

Your repeated thoughts were as fast as the bullet train you were on. You knew the moment you lost your self control, you’d say something you’d later regret. So you looked at him, a fiery rage in your gaze, but still controlling your silence. 

Vito then realized he regretted shouting at you in such a manner. The hating look your irises burned and churned within, took him back. He didn’t expect you’d react that way, and he regretted not taking another second to think what the outcome may be from his screaming. So he stilled under your gaze, every sheer of irate emotions slowly dissipating.

He opened his mouth, wanting so say something, to immediately apologize for what he’s just done. Regret flowed through his senses, so much it made him almost blind to everything else that was occurring. And with regret, came the emotions of shame and embarrassment. He was vulnerable under you heavy stare.

Seconds passed like this. You were looking into his eyes, but you weren’t saying inthing behind them. The source didn’t come to try and intimidate him, it had nothing to do with you feeling more powerful than him. But as your gazes interlocked, you had to physically bite your bottom lip so you wouldn't spill all the bitter words that sat ready above your tongue. Don’t say it. Every second, your head provoked you to take one step further and finish this into a screaming match. The type of fight that, when the both of you left to your rooms, you two had equal resentment for each other. Don’t say it. 

With another deep breath exhaling from your nose, you stood up. Just then, you realized the rest of the audience present in your discussion, by which all of them looked rather uncomfortable, and you coudn’t blame them. You passed Scarlett and Finnick, in which he stalkendly followed you figure. He didn’t know what to say to remedy the situation, was there even a way to make this better? Or maybe the best thing he could do was to just stay silent and let the breeze carry both of the Tribute’s emotions. 

Your body froze at the realization you had forgotten something crucial. You looked at the Scarlett, which she returned a timid gaze. Vito seemed on wanting to say something, especially now that you had stopped in your tracks. It was obvious you wanted to leave, and he coudn’t blame you. But before he could apologize for his outburst, your voice fied out. Much more calm, and without a hint of an explosive counter reaction.

“I’ll be taking this” you leaned forward into the table, grabbing the inquisitive wine, ready to use it as soon as your bedroom door closed behind you. 

“I’ll be drowning myself in this tonight” you murmured. You were proud at the way you didn’t give in to you head’s whispering thoughts to aggravate the situation further. And before you knew it, you blood run much slower, and your energy subsided, leaving you with the hoarse of your mutter.

You looked back at everyone, and a small grin formed in the base of your lips, and they understood you were telling them your goodnight before your body went to the door. 

But you stopped. With the wine in you hand heavely hanging, you went back to see your partner. 

“Get back home, Vito” you exasperated. He went to gaze at you once his name was mentioned. And though you noticed his soury internal conflict, his original thoughts still induced him.

He went to say you name, a much softer trembling mutter. But you cut him off. You didn’t want to argue any further, and you weren't going to stay for whatever he had to say.

“Go home” your voice sounded more stable, more confident in your argument. And with this, you finished the dispute between the two of you. With an order for him to return back to District 4, and get back to his family. 

Previous // Next

TagList: @marvelescvpe

[laylasmoonchild]

Cherry Flavored Smoke

Sam x Reader x Danny

Summary: Danny and Sam have a close friend, who used to be a fan. Under the influence of marijuana, the Reader decides to answer some fan related questions from them… And… They act em out✨

WARNINGS: Sex, Threesome, Male Receiving Oral, Fingering, Smoking Weed, Alcohol, Face slapping (Consensual)

(Let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 6964

I met Greta Van Fleet after a concert for another band… And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t go to said concert with them in mind. I was a fan for awhile, and happened to have connections with the performers and figured, why not? Well, it was better than expected. Not only did I get to meet them, but I became pretty close to them; mainly the lovely rhythm section…

Cut to now, I still think it’s crazy how close we’ve gotten considering I’ve told them every embarrassing fangirl nonsense I’ve contributed in. Well… Almost everything.

I thought about this while getting ready to have my annual Friday night get together with Danny and Sam. We say “annual” but it really takes place when we actually happen to have the time.

I took a shower after work and finished getting ready. Tamed my post shower hair, did my skincare routine (knowing I was just going to be with Danny and Sam, I didn’t feel the need to wear makeup.), and picked out a comfortable outfit. We usually eat something made by one of us or takeout, drink a little, and maybe even some herbal refreshments. It’s nothing crazy, so I opt for an oversized band tee and leggings, which is much more comfortable than my work clothes…

My phone lights up on my vanity while I continue to spray my perfume on my pulse points… And of course, multiple texts flood in.

Rhythm Section + Y/N

S: Y/N you’re smoking tonight, not taking no for an answer this time

D: She doesn’t have to smoke

D: Sam are you almost here? I needed rolling papers, if you’re close, forget it. I’ll just have to clean my bong.

D: I don’t want to gross you guys out with a dirty bong 🤣

S: I’m outside, the dirty bong is just fine

Laughing at the screen while I catch up, I decide that I can stop at the store on my way.

Y/N: If I have to smoke, it’s not going to be out of a dirty bong

Y/N: I’m going to pick up papers, what brand do you guys prefer?

D: You’re the best♥️

D: Zig-Zag is fine

I made the mental note & grabbed both my bag and keys to make it to my car.

————————————————————————

As I walked into the smoke shop, I was greeted by the sales clerk and told him what I needed. While he grabbed the papers, I decided to grab a couple of the guy’s favorite drinks and snacks - just in case they get the munchies and wipe out whatever dinner is…

The clerk rang up my items and as I handed my debit card, I saw something that made me let out a light chuckle. Cherry flavored Juicy Jays. I was immediately transported to high school memories.

“Can I have a pack of the cherry rolling papers? God, I loved those, I have to get them.” I laughed a little at the thought of both Danny and Sam’s reactions to the papers.

The store clerk smiled and added them to my total. After paying, I was on my way.

————————————————————————

I walked up Danny’s driveway, bags in hand, and before I could struggle to knock on his front door, I was greeted with Sam’s perfect smile.

Sam had opened the door and took one of the bags from my hands.

“You get em?” He said, almost impatiently.

“Hello to you too, Samuel.” I huffed sarcastically, walking past him and into the house. Kicking off my shoes then making my way further into set the bags down on the dining room table. I took my hoodie off and draped it over the chair, turning around to look at Sam whom I left in the foyer.

“I didn’t mean it like that! It was just on my mind!” He protested, copying my actions with the placement of the bag.

“Mhmm, I’m sure.” I said in a jokingly skeptical voice. I scrunched up my nose making an exaggerated annoyed face, blowing my cover with a soft chuckle. Before pulling me into a hug, Sam gave my nose a light pinch.

“You know you love me, I didn’t forget that you were a Sam girl- or what do they call it? A ‘Sammy Lane Girl’? I don’t know, but I’m sure I could find some old comments from you on my Instagram.” He teased while I rolled my eyes.

“That was before I had the pleasure of meeting you, I would definitely call myself a Danny girl now.” I poked him in the chest, earning an obnoxious “Ouch” from him.

I looked towards the kitchen, and back at Sam, pursing my lips, I looked towards the kitchen again, this time walking towards it. I flipped my hair, knowing it would miss Sam’s face by a few centimeters. I felt his eyes on me as I made it through the threshold.

As I entered the kitchen, I saw Danny with his phone up against his ear while he held our favorite takeout menu. He noticed my presence and mouthed “Hey” with a smile. I walked up to him and wrapped my arms around his torso. He hugged me back with one arm and I basked in the feeling of his strength, even with a single free arm. The restaurant answered and Danny continued to give our orders while I stayed in his hold, listening and feeling his voice vibrate in his chest.

Danny always highlighted our orders with a marker on the menu so he never had to ask us what we wanted, knowing that Sam and I will contemplate a new order for an hour and change our mind while Danny ordered for us. As he finished up requesting our order, he rubbed my back to get my attention.

“Do you want anything extra, dessert, drinks?” He asked in a low voice, I shook my head no. I let go of him as he said goodbye and hung up his phone.

I lean my back into the island, spreading my arms out & placing my hands on the counter to support me. Danny was still standing in front of me, eyeing me a little extra. I furrowed my brow, questioning the reason for his gaze, he blushed in return and leaned on the counter top behind him.

“What?” I asked him.

“Nothing, I just missed you!” He let out a breathy laugh while I nodded and let out a sarcastic “uh-huh”. A wicked grin painted across his lips and he opened his mouth to speak again, “And I heard you say you’re a Danny girl now.”

He continued to laugh while I rolled my eye’s playfully, much like I did with Sam.

“Watch out, she’ll say she’s a Josh girl to save herself.” Sam walks in the kitchen with the Zig-Zags and a baggie of weed, bringing the items to the island I was leaning on. Danny and I laughed in response to the comment from Sam while he smiled to himself. He sat in one of the barstools and opened the bag. The smell filled the kitchen, instantly earning a deep inhale from all of us. I turned to my right, watching him intently roll a joint. Sam was something else, face perfectly sculpted. His eyebrows knit together while he bit his bottom lip in focus on the joint. I was watching his hands, only thinking about how perfect they were. Long fingers accompanied by veins and large hands.

I realized he didn’t have the cherry rolling papers that I brought along with the regular ones.

“Sam, did you see the cherry ones I got?” I asked him while he looked up at me. He nodded before bringing the joint to his lips, giving it a light lick to seal it.

“You don’t want to use them?” I said in a partial whine.

“Ehh, I don’t think I’ll like the taste, bring me them, I’ll roll your one for yourself.” He replies, taking the lighter to the joint lightly to ensure its closure.

“Cherry j’s? God, that’s so you” Danny chimes in. “I’ll grab em, I’m sure you also got us drinks that Sam could’ve put in the fridge.” He says with a half serious glare, knowing Sam was only focused on getting the papers.

Danny walks out of the room, coming back shortly with the bags. He hands me the cherry papers and continues unbagging the snacks and placing the drinks in the refrigerator.

“Did you ever learn how to roll?” Sam asked me, I turned around to give him my full attention while I shook my head no.

“Not surprised, pretty girls never know how to roll” Sam looked me up and down, “What does that mean?” I ask, slightly offended. I leaned forward on the counter, waiting for an inevitable smart ass response.

“Let me guess, you were the girl who rarely had to pay for her own weed, probably smoked out of a little pink bong or a one hitter bowl? Cones even?” He said with a smirk. My eyes widened, he hit the nail on the head. Danny laughs while taking a sip of a beer. Sam laughs gleefully, taking a deep breath “And! I bet you only smoked these things with the senior boys… Typical, pretty girl.” He says while he reaches for my cherry papers.

“Am I that predictable?” I laughed at myself, remembering my high school experience as just the way Sam narrowed it down.

He opened the packaging and shook his head, Danny coming up behind him to snag the previously rolled joint and lighter.

“Nah, not at all. It’s just common.” Danny answers for Sam. He places the joint between his lips, lighting it up and taking a long drag. After taking another, he passes it to Sam, and something about the exchange between the two made my stomach flip. Even though I grew closer to them, I was still amazed by how gorgeous they were. Sam kept the lit joint between his lips while sprinkling the weed into the cherry cartoon and flavor lined rolling papers. Looking so casual and skillful at the same time.

He returns the joint to Danny, fixing his gaze back onto me then back to tightening up the joint he was rolling for me. He brought it to his lips, about to lick it shut. But something made the corner of his mouth raise into his classic wicked grin. He put the joint out to me, inches away from my mouth. I was looking at him doe-eyed, not sure what he was getting at.

“C’mon, little girl. I don’t want to lick this cherry paper.” He said, waving it lightly in my face. I glanced over at Danny who had smoke billowing out of his mouth and straight up into his nose, breathing it out with a breathy laugh. I went to reach out for the joint with my hand, and Sam shook his head, pulling the joint back a bit.

“How am I supposed to-“ I began asking him, in defense of my actions.

“I packed it out for you and these papers are small. I don’t want it to fall apart, lick it.” He holds it out to me again, eyes landing on my lips then back onto my eyes.

“Yeah those things suck for that,” Danny adds while tapping his joint to ash it in the crystal ashtray he held.

I suddenly felt a little warm, a little self conscious even. I decided it wasn’t as deep as I thought it was and leaned forward. I stuck my tongue out, only a little, making sure to be cautious with it. I licked it, the cherry flavor being a mix of tart and sweet, making me salivate a little more in the back of my mouth. I felt eyes watching me intently, making me look up through my lashes. Sammy’s eyes were glued on my mouth, swiping his bottom lip with the bottom tip of his tongue, bringing the corner of his glistened lip between his teeth. Quickly glancing at Danny, he was staring at me similarly while he shifted himself to stand upright. He cleared his throat as I finished sealing the joint and I leaned back, only being able to watch Sam’s hands run the lit lighter up and down it, slightly embarrassed to make eye contact again.

“How’s it taste?” Danny asked, nodding his head towards it in Sammy’s hand.

“Uh, good. It’s sweet,” I replied, noticing both of their eyebrows raising, moving their head slightly up and down & making a higher pitched “hm” sound.

Sammy hands it to me between my thumb and index finger. “Wanna try?” I let my hand out a little, waiting for someone to take up my offer.

“Nah, I’m good, enjoy.” Sam replies, getting up from his chair, walking to the fridge for a beer.

I looked at Danny, wiggling my eyebrows and wiggling the joint between my fingers.

“How bout you, Danny Boy?” I said, sing-songy.

He shook his head politely with a smile, earning an unserious, half frown from me. Bringing the joint to my mouth, Danny brought the lighter up to the end of the joint. His eyes were on my mouth once more. Waiting for me to put it between my lips before lighting it. I inhaled the smoke, tasting the mix of weed and burnt cherry. I let the smoke out, sucking it back in lightly and blowing it out again. I licked my lips, looking up at him.

“Thanks,” I said before taking another hit. He smiled and set the lighter down. The effects of THC made my limbs feel less tense, and my eyelids a little heavier.

Sam walked back over, I was still leaned over the island, elbows propping me up. He placed his right arm around my shoulder, leaning with me. He settled his beer on the counter top and reached out for the joint I was holding in my right hand.

He took it from my fingers, putting it between his and looked at the cartoon print on it.

“You sure you don’t wanna try? It’s delicious and you rolled it so well!” I said enticingly, wanting one of them to try it.

“Ah, what the hell.” He brought it up to his lips, taking a deep hit. The tip created a light orange glow on his face. The crackle noise put me in a trance at his beauty. His eyes looked over at me watching him. He blew the smoke away from my face, lowering his arm from around my shoulder and to my waist.

“Not bad,” He said surprised, motioning for Danny to hand him the ashtray. He slid it over to him, turning his head to the walkway that leads to the dining room. Lights flashed through the threshold and we heard a car door close.

“Food’s here, I got it.” Dan left the room, grabbing his wallet on the way.

Sam’s hand started lazily tightening its grip on my waist while he took a longer drag.

“Hey!” I softly exclaimed, noticing half the joint being smoked away and turning to ash. Sam’s chest rose and fell, chuckling a bit while unchanging his actions. He put the rest of what was the joint in the ashtray. He was still holding the smoke in his mouth, I stood up straight out of his hold, crossing my arms. He stood up, facing my shoulders toward him and taking my pouting face in his hand. He tightened his grip lightly on my jaw, loosening my mouth slightly open, and squeezed my cheeks lightly. He leaned into me, blowing the cherry smoke into my mouth, shotgunning it right into my lungs as I inhaled.

I felt my knees loosen a little at the swiftness of the interaction. As he pulled away, his hand released itself from my face. His cocky side smile plastered on his face while he lightly blinked.

“Better?” He asked me softly. Danny entered the kitchen once more, removing the containers from the paper bag while I walked away from Sam to help Danny.

“Are you guys hungry right now? Honestly I ate a little late when I had lunch, I might save my food for later after we smoke again.” Danny said while tossing the empty bags into the garbage.

“I’m good right now, how about you Sam?” I said turning to him. He was eyeing me up and down while I waited for a response.

“Sam?” Danny said, snapping Sammy out of whatever trance he was in. Probably from the weed.

“Oh! Sorry, I’m not that hungry either.” He responded quickly.

“Wanna watch a movie then?” Danny asked.

“Yeah, sure” We replied in unison.

————————————————————————

We were all together in Danny’s living room, sprawled out in our usual spots on his massive U-Shaped sectional. Danny was on one end, laying flat, Sam on the other, and I was laid on my side in between the extended sections on the middle section. Head towards Danny, feet towards Sam.

We had started watching a movie that we’ve seen before. Knowing one of us may fall asleep or want to smoke mid-movie, we agreed on not wanting to risk missing anything new.

Sam rolled a few more joints with a tray in his lap while Danny and I watched the screen. When I’m under the influence, I tend to get a little touch deprived. If someones next to me, I’ll trace my nails lightly up and down their arm, or ask them to play with my hair… All of which isn’t weird to the guys. Even though some may see that as intimate, the guys come from families whose love language is touch, so it’s not that weird to them.

Since my head was towards Danny, I looked up at him. Studying his features. How masculine yet beautiful each curve and mark on his face were. He looked down at me, smiling. He tapped the space between us, putting his arm out for me to join him. He knows how much I love to lay on people’s chest and listen to their heart’s beat. Giggling a little to myself, I scooted towards him and rested my head on his chest. I laid my arm across his torso and he rested his hand on my hip, lightly rubbing my side up and down ever so often.

“Alright, here’s your fruity joint, Y/N,” Sam said getting up from his side and walking over to us. I lifted my hand up from Danny’s torso and reached out for the already lit joint.

“Did you smoke from this one too?” I asked with a cheeky grin before taking a drag.

Danny laughed a little, making me hear the bass of it in his chest.

“It’s good! I admit, I fell victim to the taste. The cartoon on them are fun too!” He laughed back, sitting on the couch aside Danny’s legs.

He watched me blow out the smoke, giving me a little smirk, which Danny caught.

“What?” He said confused with Sam.

“Ooooh, nothing, Sam just smoked the first one down to a roach when you were getting the food” I tapped Danny’s chest, offering the joint.

“Of course he did, always greedy that one,” Danny looked at the joint in my hand. He declined with a light glance. I pouted and used my big eyes to my advantage, trying to garner sympathy.

Danny rolled his eyes and let out a sigh with a smile. “Fine.” He tapped my hip with his hand, taking the joint with his other while I let out a satisfied laugh.

I watched him from below inhale the smoke. Studying his features once more, and this time, feeling bold.

“You guys wanna know something funny about your girl fans?” I asked them.

“Hm?” Danny said before letting out the smoke and passing the joint to Sam.

“Do tell” Sammy said, ashing the joint into the ashtray while smirking and wiggling his eyebrows.

I stood up, going from laying to a sitting position, pulling my knees to my chest while still next to Danny.

“Well- Usually when a girl likes Danny, her ‘cheat lane’ is Sam, and vice versa. Obviously there’s many combinations but that’s just what I’ve noticed.” I let out a lighthearted laugh after the statement, turning to see both reactions. They looked at each other and exchanged “oooooh” noises and laughed.

Always bold, under the influence or not, Sam opened his mouth to reply “What was your combination?”

Suddenly Danny was more interested, turning to look at me, fighting back a grin.

“Oh, God.” I rolled my eyes and covered my face.

“Yeaaah, you can’t just say that and not tell us” Danny tried pulling my hands from my blushed face. Danny was laughing when getting a look at the expression on my face. Sam added in agreeing noises while setting the joint and ashtray on the coffee table.

“Well… Who do you think?” I said in defense, not wanting to get into details and no longer feeling bold.

They shared smirks and raised eyebrows while laughing to themselves.

“Oh grow up!” I laughed back, kicking Sam lightly in the ribs with my foot and lightly punching Danny’s arm.

“It’s cute! And hey, you brought it up,” Danny said in defense, tickling my side a little, earning a slight smile from me.

“You know, I always wanted to ask you something… Since you were a fan of us.” Sam says, nonchalantly reclining into Danny’s legs.

“Shoot.” I replied.

A shit eating grin was on Sam’s face before asking “Did you ever read that fanfiction stuff? Like the intensely pornographic ones?” Danny took a sharp inhale through his nose and let out a little laugh.

My face felt hotter than it already was.

“Sam!” I exclaimed, eyes widened to capacity.

“You gotta tell us, and we’ll know if you’re lying!” He pointed at me in a jokingly threatening manner.

I looked over at Danny, hoping to have him reason with Sam, but he was equally curious.

I took a deep breath before quietly saying “I mean who doesn’t…”

They immediately gasped gleefully, leaning closer, wanting to know more.

“Sooooo,” I heard Danny speak up. Sam and I both turned to see him smiling, adding to the suspense.

He let out a nervous sigh before continuing, “Was there ever stuff about me and Sam… you know…” He motioned his hands between the three of us.

“What do you mean?” I asked, not fully understanding, feeling my core pulse between my legs at the conversation.

Sam looked confused and in deep thought before saying “Ooooh,” coming to the conclusion before I could.

“Like…. Threesome stuff.” Danny looked me dead in the eye. His body next to mine felt stiff.

“Oh, yeah. Loads.” I replied casually.

“Have you ever read them?” Sammy caught my attention with his bluntness.

My stomach felt like it did a flip and I felt a familiar warmth form.

My embarrassment slowly turned into arousal. I was high and with two guys I wholeheartedly trusted. Not to mention two guys that I most definitely have thought about in this context.

I looked at Sam, biting my lip a little. I relaxed my legs away from my chest and let them slightly hang open.

“Why? You wanna act one out?”

Sammy’s mouth slightly hung open, he looked over at Danny who had a similar reaction. Sam’s cheeks were now a shade of pink.

Danny cleared his throat “I mean… Not to sound like a couple of deuce bags but… It came up in conversation.”

I smirked, looking back at Sammy, who was trying to casually reposition himself in his gray joggers.

“Is that true? You want to share your favorite Sammy girl?” I made sure to flash him my best fuck-me-eyes.

He nodded while looking at me with pure filth running through his head.

Danny put his hand on my knee, slowly running up my thigh. “Only if you want to?”

I smiled at his sweetness, feeling pleased with knowing the two sexiest men I’ve ever laid eyes on wanted to have their way with me.

I stood up from the couch and put my hands out for them to grab ahold of.

They looked at each other like they couldn’t believe this was happening & each grabbed a hand and followed me off the couch & to the bedroom. I let go of their hands and they traveled behind me.

Danny’s bedroom always felt so inviting. The faint smell of incense lingered in the lamp lit space. I sat on the edge of the bed before them. At this angle I could see both of their dicks so clearly strained in their pants. They looked down at me, not knowing where to start.

Feeling coquettish, I slowly discarded my shirt, flinging it across the room. Both boys had a hungry look on their face, one of them letting out a breathy “fuck” under his breath. I was wearing a lacey, black, balconette style bra. My breasts heaving up and down, delicately spilling out the top of my bra.

Danny removed his shirt, inspiring Sam to do the same. Danny leaned over first, “can I kiss you?” he whispered close to my face.

“I’ll do you one better, the both of you can fuck me if you want.”

He smirked while devouring my lips. I started to recline into the bed, letting Danny crawl on top of me. He lightly pulled me up further into the middle of the bed, he positioned himself to the side of my body, kissing me passionately.

Danny’s kisses were rough yet precise, never sloppy yet I still felt how much he needed me.

Hands running up my side, he slowly brought his hand up to my neck, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Oh,” I let out onto his mouth, feeling him smile against my lips. His tongue desperately fought against mine. He pulled away for a second, looking down at me. “So fucking sexy,” I put my arms around his neck and pulled him into a kiss once more.

Danny pulled away again, looking over at Sam, who seemed to be enjoying the view.

“Princess, could Sam take these off for us?” Danny tugged lightly on the waistband of my leggings. I quickly nodded and let out a whimper. Sam smiled and crawled onto the bed. He leaned down to my face, kissing me. Sam’s kisses were wet & deep, more desperate than Danny’s. My pussy began to throb at the racing thoughts about what the rest of this night would entail.

Sammy sat up from me, supporting his body weight on the opposite side that Danny occupied. Before pulling my leggings down, he double checked with me, his eyes lightening a bit from their darkened lust. After I nodded in approval, he pulled my leggings and panties off my body. Not surprised he was eager to take off both.

Danny’s lips attached themselves to my exposed breast, leaving a reminder of him being there for later…

Sam started sucking on my ear lobe and lightly tugging it between his teeth. I was moaning for both of them.

They both worked their way to my face, once making it there at the same time, they looked each other in the eyes, & grinned. Danny nodded his head at Sammy, giving him the go ahead to kiss me.

Sammy began kissing me, and I felt both of their hands slide down my stomach and making their way between my thighs. Sammy lightly ghosted the soft skin of my inner thighs, making my hips buck. Danny’s freehand un did the back part of my bra, he brought up the hand that was by my core and pulled my bra off of me. My nipples hardened at the cool air & my hands returned to the sides of their heads, lighting tugging their hair. Danny then spit into his hand, and began rubbing my clit.

I began moaning into Sam’s mouth which became a signal for him to tease my entrance with his fingers. I began to whimper, closing my thighs shut while Danny was giving me what I needed and Sammy was torturing me. I thought of how fast his fingers moved on the strings of his bass and it was making me ache for him.

Danny stopped rubbing my clit, making me whimper more. He pulled my leg over his, keeping my leg open for him.

Sam stopped kissing me & did the same with my other leg, leaving me wide open for them.

“Such a good girl for us, I think she can handle it, Sam… Give it to our girl.” Danny returned his hand to my clit and put his lips around my nipple. I let out a strained moan.

“Y/N, is that what you want? My fingers in your pussy?” Sam said to me in a raspy whisper.

“Yes, yes, please Sam, I want them so bad” I couldn’t even hold back my desperation, I never wanted this feeling to stop.

“Shhh, you’ll get it baby, we’re gonna give you what you want.” And with that his fingers were inside of me, he immediately started curling them. I couldn’t believe how fast his fingers were going, I was suctioning so tight around him.

Sam dipped his head towards my other nipple and started mirroring Danny again. They worked me in perfect harmony.

We stayed like this for a few minutes, the noises filling up the room beautifully.

Danny brought his head up from my swollen nipple for a second, watching Sammy on my other one, suckling on it and making me go crazy.

Danny peppered light kisses up my neck and to my lips. He was lightly grinding his cock into my hips.

My hand trailed down to his hard on.

“You wanna see it?” He asked.

“Mhm” was all I could manage.

He paused from rubbing my clit and discarded his pants and briefs. Danny was big. Length and girth, pulsing for me. The tip glistened with a bit of his arousal.

I wrapped my hand around it, pumping him.

“Oh- fuck, Y/N…” He moaned into my neck, letting his head rest there. His hand went back to his original place on my clit.

We moaned each other’s names deliciously, & I felt close to my release.

Feeling like I was neglecting Sammy, I shifted my gaze towards him. He had his cock out in his free hand, pausing from fingering me and taking some of my wetness and pumping his cock with it.

“Fuck-“ I let out, he realized I saw what he did, letting my nipple pop out of his mouth and looking up at me, “Couldn’t help myself,” He said in a breathy laugh, letting out a light moan and returning his original hand back to my pussy. This time much faster and stronger.

I thought to myself that the only reason for Sammy’s stamina is purely from performing for hours on end. Most guys couldn’t finger a girl the way he was without taking a break.

My walls began to tighten around his digits, both Danny and Sam looking down at my pussy.

“Cmon, that’s it, I feel it, let it go, baby, cum for us. Our perfect little slut,” Sammy said in between his own moans, pumping his cock with more speed. My hand tightened around Danny’s, he groaned in return.

I felt my orgasm bubble in my chest, I was about to cum. My vision went blurry and I felt the release. I was screaming for both of them, as loud as I could. This had to have been the hardest I ever came, and they kept their actions the same. Rubbing and fucking me. My eyes clamped shut.

I let go on Danny’s dick, I began convulsing under them, tears stung my eyes. “Please stop, its too much, its too,” I said practically sobbing. My eyes still shut. I felt them stop and let out breathy laughs.

I opened my eyes and looked down at them, vision still blurry. They both looked at me in pure amazement, sloppily coming up to me to kiss my face lazily and tenderly. They were still sharing laugh’s amongst themselves.

“Wh-what?” I said, trying to catch my breath.

“You didn’t see- feel that?” Sam corrected himself.

“Y/N… You’re incredible” Danny added.

“What do you m- wait, what happened?” I realized how wet I felt, aside from the previous arousal and Danny’s spit. It was different.

I looked down to see Danny’s duvet completely soaked, water droplets splattered across my legs. Even on some of the guys torso’s, I’m assuming while they kept going, my release started going all over.

My face went red, not being able to believe what they made me do.

“Oh my god, Danny- Danny I’m so sorry.” I said quickly, a little ashamed at what I did, ruining his duvet.

“Y/N, I want you to do that anytime you can.” He joked with me. Both Sammy and I laughed. The interaction between the three of us made me happy I was doing this with them. We could go from pure lust to our usual friendship, I felt comfortable again remembering this. But I was still turned on, and remembered I had two men to please the way they pleased me.

“Okay, okay… Now it’s your turn…” I said bringing us back on track. I sat up shakily, my legs still weak from the events. I was still between them and on my knees facing them.

Sammy eagerly removed his pants and briefs, they were now both naked for me.

“C’mere” He said, putting a hand out for me. I straddled his hips, grinding my pussy onto his shaft. Not letting him in but letting him feel how soaked I was. Danny started pumping his cock, watching me tease his best friend. Sam was moaning my name, making me moan back. “The both of you are gonna feel me, don’t worry.” I gave him a light kiss, arms around his neck, I turned to Danny, putting my hand out to pull his face to mine, kissing his wet lips.

“You’re such a slut. So good for us.” He said huskily.

I moaned at the praise, grinding my clit onto Sam.

“She’s - ah- she’s being a little bad right now, not letting me in that sweet cunt of hers.” Sammy squeezed my ass. I smiled to myself, earning a smack on the ass from him.

“Think it’s just payback from before,” Danny replied, still stroking himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said innocently. Sam’s hand slid up my side, landing on the side of my face. “See, she’s a bad girl. Bet she likes getting fucked like one too.” Sam protested.

“Oh, was I tricked?” Danny asked, pausing his movements.

“Think she likes getting slapped around?” Sam asked cockily, feeling his dick twitch under me.

I nodded my head, biting my lip.

Sam smiled, he lightly smacked my cheek, making me moan out.

“Harder,” I said, still grinding on him.

He slapped my face harder this time, my face stung and I whimpered in delight. The pain was perfect. He rubbed my cheek a little “Oh, I knew it. You like it rough.”

“Yeah, I do” I moaned.

“I think one more will do her good.” Danny added.

“One more?” Sammy cooed.

“Hit me” I begged.

He hit the same cheek, making me moan again, the mix of pain and arousal made me grind into him deeper. His hand rubbed the spot one more time. This time he let his thumb into my mewling lips. I sucked around it instinctively as I rocked my hips deeper. I was so wet and he was so hard that he eventually slipped into my pussy. We both moaned in unison.

Sammy’s thumb popped out of my mouth. I reached over to Danny, taking his hand. I led it to my lips, he quickly knew what I was getting at. He dipped his fingers into my mouth, making me gag. Collecting my saliva, he worked it onto his shaft.

Some saliva was left on my chin, Sammy licked it, “You’ve gotta be the sexiest woman alive… Damn.”

Starting to crave Danny while watching him jerk himself, I slowed down my movements.

“I think it’s Danny’s turn, right?” I asked Sam politely, who agreed.

“Yeah, I think I wanna try that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“So greedy, aren’t you?” I purred.

Danny laughed, “To be fair, Sam’s talked about wanting this the most, I don’t mind sharing, baby.” He helped me off Sam.

“Kinda wanted to fuck you from behind, is that okay, my girl?” Danny was always so polite, I smiled in return.

Sammy propped up pillows behind himself, getting ready for my mouth. Danny got off the bed and came up from behind me, getting back on and lining himself up with my glistening cunt.

I arched my back for Danny, making sure he had perfect access and Sam had a great view.

I crawled between Sammy’s legs as I felt Danny’s hands on my hips. I felt him slide the tip, top to bottom, getting some of my juices to lubricate himself.

I stuck my tongue out, starting to lick the base of Sam, to the top.

“You ready, baby?” Danny asked. I looked up at Sam with doe-eyes. Asking him to relay the message.

“She’s ready,” He moaned.

Danny slammed into my hips the second I lowered myself onto Sam. I tasted myself on him.

I moaned around him while Danny fucked into me. He slapped my ass, moaning for me.

“Damn, you’re still fucking tight- even after all that with Sam?” He let out.

“She’s got the perfect cunt, right?” Sammy asked while holding my hair. I leaked out more from the praise.

“It’s so fucking good.” He said with each thrust going deeper.

I bobbed my head up and down, jerking him with my one hand. I gagged around Sam, surprised at how big he was for his size. He filled up my pussy so perfectly, I didn’t realize how comparable he was to Danny.

We continued our acts and moans filled the air.

I felt both Danny and Sam twitch in each ends of my body. I knew they were close. Sammy looked down at me, biting his lip.

Danny brought his hand to my clit, rubbing it vigorously. I was going to cum with them.

“Can we cum in you?” Sam asked politely, rubbing my cheek tenderly.

I moaned and nodded yes.

“Fuck, she’s so good.” Danny growled.

Sammy was the first to let go. Calling out for me, biting his lip and throwing his head back. His cum was delicious, I swallowed it eagerly, licking up any remaining arousal on his pulsing cock.

Danny fucked me faster, chasing his orgasm. He sped up his movements on my clit, knowing I could handle it.

I came faster than I thought, feeling my cum leak onto his balls that smacked against my ass. I called out for him, reaching for something to hold onto. Sammy let me hold his hand. He rubbed the hair out of my face, and looked me in my eyes lazily.

“Take him, baby. Cum for her, Danny, she’s dying for it.” Something about Sammy’s voice drove me insane, hearing him talk sweetly to me and full of lust. It was intoxicating.

Danny let out a strained moan, and I felt him cum deep inside of me. He removed himself and dragged my almost lifeless body next to Sam.

I held onto Sam, Danny held me from behind, and we all tried to catch our breath.

“Holy, fuck.” Danny breathed out

“Yeah.” Sam laughed, amazed.

We all basked in the smell of our sex and held onto one another.

“Well, I’m finally hungry.” I said trying to break the silence, which they both laughed and agreed.

We decided to go downstairs, them getting into their briefs, and Danny removed the duvet from his bed, know it desperately needed a wash.

I walked to Danny’s bathroom, cleaning up a bit.

Danny knocked on the door and I told him to let himself in. Like the gentleman he was, he had a fresh shirt picked for me with a pair of his boxers.

I smiled and changed into them, not minding that he was right there. Something about this felt really good. Usually after a hookup, I felt awkward but this was something else…

Danny told me to meet them in the kitchen where we’d ravish our meals and regain some of our strength that we lost.

I made it to the kitchen where the two seemed to be talking in hushed tones, unlike their usual loud voices.

“What’s going on?” I asked curiously. Sam was heating up my food on the stove and smiled, for the first time shyly. Danny looked at me with kind eyes.

“Can we… I don’t know… Do this often? Maybe not all the time, we still respect you as a person but… Y/N, that was kind of special to us… And not in a ‘I’ve always wanted to have a threesome’ kind of way… What do you think?” Danny said, hands in his sweatpants pockets.

Sammy smiled lightly and nodded.

I never pictured this happening, I never thought of myself as the kind of girl to be in a three way friends with benefits… But, I felt safe knowing it was with them.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this… But why not.” I smiled, they both came over to me, pulling me into a hug and kissing my face.

Not sure of how this would work, but I knew we’d be alright.

[writing-yarn-goblin]

HELLO DECEMBER!

It’s my account and I POST WHAT I WANT!

This was based on a morning after image my dear friend @quinloki showed us, and I thought it would be funny to share the mishaps of you and your four boyfriends.

Modern! Kid Pirates x Reader

Relationship: Polycule

It’s cute.

Warnings: Cussing

Drawing by @DeniseFanta on Twitter

~*~

“Kid?”

“Hm?”

“Get the fuck up, the fender’s falling.”

That’s all the red-headed gym rat could hear. A lot of grumbling and a few groans later and the leader of their rag-tag band was up and putting away the delicate instrument in its rightful pedestal as he just felt the uneasiness of his stomach torment him once more.

He rushed to the bathroom, thankful that he only had to slither his way out without interrupting Heat throwing up his guts as Wire grabbed a fistful of teal threads and gently pull it up in a loose bun, running small circles against the tattooed man.

Kid was already hunched over the toilet, cursing and mumbling as his stomach emptied itself down the ceramic bowl.

Pledging to never drink again but he knows that promise is short lived after a week or two.

“Please tell me Babydoll is on her way here…” he groaned between breaths, puking his guts out once more.

“She’s parking Vicky. She brought “everything we need”. Said it’ll help ride it out.” Killer said as he walked into the bathroom as Wire and Heat shuffled out. Conscious enough to start cleaning a little before their lady and savior got here.

The redhead groaned and was about to say something about his car, Victoria, and stains but Killer interjected by saying that he willingly gave her the car’s Keys and groaned his warning.

With a hum, he flushed the toilet, jumped to the faucet to wash his face and teeth, feeling a lot more refreshed after that harrowing experience with the toilet.

Once he finished, he was pleased to hear the door’s ringer sound off as you stepped inside with the much appreciated food.

“Good morning, lightweights!”

The collective tired groans didn’t seem as much as a welcome, but that rapidly changed when they organized the dining room’s table and you laid out the food for them to devour.

You already had a coffee and breakfast while you waited for their food, so it worked out.

Once they were busying themselves with the food offering, you got into comfortable clothes and went to work. Kitchen was now cleaned and now you were making your way to fix the bathroom as they struggled with their breakfast.

Killer was the first one done, Heat second and Wire third. Before Kid could complain about his head, the pills were already next to his hand with a tall glass of water and a soft spoken command of ‘Drink up’ managed to reset his senses and did just that.

By the time that Kid was done: the affected areas of the house were cleaned, bathrooms were spotless and it smelled like a mild detergent.

Good on the nose and stomach.

The silence that permeated the air was soothing as everyone was starting to feel like their normal selves.

After a bit more reviving and another nap, Kid grabbed yo by the side with a grin and pulled you to him.

“Who you callin’ lightweight?”

Ah yes, he was finally back to normal.

But now you had to scramble, giggling all the way as your boyfriends decided to chase you around, promises of many things dripping from their mouths while you squealed and giggled.

It was just another Saturday morning.

[dilf-whore]

my kind of girl (part 4)

previous || next

pairing: billy hargrove x f!reader

genre: friends to lovers! , fluff, mentions of neil

summary: you grow closer and closer with the redhead you tutor… and maybe with her stepbrother too

A/N: here’s part 4! let me know if you want to be added to the taglist 💗 also send me your thoughts/comments and requests if you have.

requested: no

requests are OPEN

masterlist

・°☆

You look at yourself in the mirror and make final adjustments to your outfit. You grab your bag on the chair and head downstairs. You felt odd today but in a good way, ‘refreshed’ is probably a good word to describe it. You go to the kitchen and make yourself some breakfast. 

You sit down on the dining chair and take a sip of your coffee, the scent giving you some comfort. A sudden wave of excitement flowed through your body as you slice your pancakes, is it because you were excited to see Billy again? It’s probably because of the caffeine, you deny to yourself.

You bring your dishes to the sink and give them a quick wash. Putting them back, you hear a faint knock on your door. “Y/N? It’s Max, we came to pick you up”. You sigh in relief, thinking it was some sort of stranger. You knew they were gonna pick you up, you just expected an unpleasant loud screeching noise of a car’s wheels upon their arrival.

You sling your bag on your shoulder and open the door. “Hi Max, didn’t hear your car come”

“Yeah well, apparently Billy drives normally now” She shrugs. A small smile creeps up on your lips, remembering your small piece of advice to him from last night. He’s finally trying to fix things. You lock your door and motion Max to go ahead.

You see Billy leaning on the car, waiting for the both of you when all of the sudden you feel the same wave of excitement as you follow Max to the car. “Good morning, Y/N” he greets you, throwing his cigarette on the concrete floor.

“Hi” you smile. Max opens the back seat and hops in, you go after her but as you were about to put your foot in, Billy grabs your wrist and gently pulls you out. “Come sit in the front”. Taken aback, he opens the passenger’s seat and do as you were told.

・°☆

Once you three arrive at school, Billy immediately steps out of the car and opens the door for Max - then for you. Max takes her skateboard and unzipped backpack, Billy grabs the handle - stopping in her tracks and zips her bag. “uh thanks Billy”.

“Y/N and I will wait for you here after school okay?” She nods her head and rushes to the middle school campus.

You glance at Billy and anticipate him to go ahead and leave you behind, but to your surprise he asks you if you’re ready to go.

There was some awkward silence between you two, you decide to break it. “You’re doing well, Billy” you speak up as you both walk to the campus.

“With what?”

“You know with Max”

“Oh yeah, I- uhm, you think so?”

You face him and give him a little pat on his shoulder, “I know so” you reassure. You both arrive to your locker, you open it and place your bag inside - taking only the necessary stuff for your class. “What’s your first class?” Billy asks, leaning on the locker beside yours.

“Chemistry”

“I’ll go with you, gym’s the same way anyways” He stands back up. You both make your way to your classroom and you couldn’t help but feel people staring at the two of you. Who wouldn’t be? Billy fucking Hargrove’s walking you to class. You tightly hug your books from discomfort, Billy notices and rubs the small of your back.

You felt tingles on your skin from the sudden contact. Billy looks at you concerned, “You okay?”

“Yeah, just people staring”

“Don’t mind them, they don’t have anything else to do. If it really bothers you, I’ll tell them to fuck off yeah?”

・°☆

Classes has ended and you all head back to Billy and Max’s place. You place your arm on the window and rest your chin, closing your eyes as you let the wind blow to your face - calming you down.

Arriving at the house, Billy once again, opens the doors for you and Max, you hop out of the car muttering a small “thank you” to him. Max rushes beside you and in a low voice she asks, “Billy’s been acting nice since last night, not that I don’t like it though. Did something happen? I mean he did stay at your place for a while last night.”

“Don’t worry Max, nothing’s wrong. Just had a little chat and I’d say he’s trying to make things better with you” you reassure.

Billy unlocks the front door and opens it for the both of you. “Ladies first” he playfully smiles.

You and Max go to her room and settle your things to prepare for your tutorial session. “Y/N, can I ask you for a favor?” she asks.

“Sure, what is it?”

“Can you help me prepare for the Snow Ball? It’s next week and I don’t really know how to like- dress up and do makeup and all those stuff”

“Of course I will! I’m so excited” you cheer.

・°☆

taglist: @slytherinintj13 @shatfairy @ribyourtoplip @1950schick @stephhevring @uglynuggy45 @sincerelii @jelly-donuts @eddiemunsonsbitch86 @mess-in-side @ineedtherapypleaseomg @koroktsuya @anitatvd @piizzaprincesss @cherriebat

[hellowhisperingstars]

Blanket Thief

Summary: Eddie is a blanket hog so he buys one just for you.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader 

Words: 1K

Warnings: Fluff, Eddie smoking weed.

A/N: Hey! Here's a new one shot for you guys. All mistakes are mine so please let me know if there are any mistakes or typos. Stay warm out there! <3

Hawkins was getting cold this time of year. That was the first thing you noticed when you moved here with your family from the west coast. The normal warm seasons you were used to were completely different from the frosty bite of the Midwest Fall. A shiver crawls up your spine as you run from your old car to the door of Eddie’s trailer, the cold biting at you. You can hear his music blasting through the metal of the home, a hand reaching out to knock when the door is pushed open and the lean body of Eddie’s uncle saunters out pushing you down to the lower step so you wouldn’t bump into him. “Oh! Sorry!”

“Oh shit, I’m sorry Sweetie, I didn’t see you there.” Wayne said as he smiled at you a bit, moving away from the door and gesturing you inside. “Head on in. Eddie’s in his room. Go get warm, it's freezing out here.” 

“Off to work?” You ask as you move so he could step down and you could head up.

“Yeah,” Wayne said with a nod. “Have a goodnight, Hon.”

“Don’t work too hard!” You call to him as he walks to his beat up old truck with a wave of his hand.

Walking up the steps you closed the door behind you and removed your coat, dropping it on the metal chair by the little dining room table they owned. Toeing off your shoes you tucked them under the chair and proceeded down the hallway towards his room. Knocking on the door you pushed it open a bit to see Eddie laying in bed with his back against the wall, his blanket around his hips with a joint in one hand and his beat up copy of The Lord of the Rings in the other. An Iron Maiden cassette playing on his stereo was the perfect background noise for him. “Well you look cozy.”

Snapping his head up he looked at you with a smile and a chuckle as he noticed you. “Hello my little love.”

“It’s freezing out there!” You cried as you moved to his dresser pulling open the drawer he gave you to pluck out a pair of pajama pants. After you changed your pants and released yourself from your bra without taking off your shirt, not caring that he watched you the whole time, you tossed them to the side and maneuvered around the stuff on his floor towards the bed. “I miss warmer weather.”

“I’ll keep you warm,” He said, closing his book, dropping it on his lap and putting the joint between his lips before holding his arms out for you. “C’mere.”

“Jesus Christ!” He said with a laugh taking the joint from his lips as he tried to push your hands out from under his shirt with his one free hand. “Shit babe!”

Smiling you crawled onto the bed, over Eddie as he chuckled at you, his hand falling onto your back as you moved, and under the blanket into the space that you claimed for your own on his bed. He insisted on sleeping by the door in case anyone decided to break into the home he would be able to protect you. Snuggling down into the space you slip your cold hands under his shirt pressing them into his stomach, laughing when he jumps at the feeling.

“You said you’d keep me warm!” You laughed as you snuggled deeper into his side, watching as he shook his head at you. 

“You’re a menace.” He laughed. 

Shrugging with just one shoulder, you curled up into a little ball, nodding your head towards the forgotten book. “Will you read to me?”

“Of course, baby,” Eddie said as he picked the book up from his lap. “Let’s see where to start..”

“Just start where you left off.” You said cuddling into his shoulder. “Don’t want you to have to start over.”

“I can do that.” Eddie smiled as he kissed the top of your head before taking a hit from the joint in his fingers. “In  the  morning  Frodo  woke  refreshed.  He  was  lying  in  a bower  made  by  a  living  tree  with  branches  laced  and  drooping to  the  ground;  his  bed  was  of  fern  and  grass,  deep  and  soft and  strangely  fragrant.  The  sun  was  shining  through  the fluttering  leaves,  which  were  still  green  upon  the  tree.  He jumped  up  and  went  out...”

You listened intently as Eddie read about the hobbits and the elves, your eyelids dropping further and further until the combined warmth of Eddie and the blanket along with his soothing voice lulled you to sleep. 

You woke up shivering. The trailer didn’t have very good insulation and it was now late enough that the room had gotten almost to the point of unbearably cold. Reaching a hand down you went to pull up the blanket, only to feel around the bed and coming up short. Opening your eyes wiped away the sleep from them and sat up on your elbow trying to find out what happened to the blanket but when you looked over your shoulder you saw through the dim light that Eddie had all but burritoed himself into it. 

~*~*~*~

“Rude.” You mumbled with a scowl as you attempted to get some covers back from him but barely any moved away from his body. Huffing in annoyance you cuddled as close to him as you could, covering yourself back up with the small amount of blanket you were able to pull from him. Your hands clutched tightly between your chest and his blanket covered spine trying to keep as much of your own body heat in as you could while you attempted to fall back to sleep.

“Why are you in here, baby?” Eddie asked quietly. You felt him sit down on the couch by your hip, his hand moving from your shoulder to the back of the couch to brace himself as he leaned over you. 

Sleep didn’t come easy after that, you kept waking up feeling colder than before, and at around 6 am you just kinda gave up and went to lay on the couch pulling the quilted blanket from the back of it around you. No sooner had you closed your eyes, you felt like you were being shaken awake, you groaned in annoyance as you rolled over pulling the quilt tighter around you. But the shaking didn’t stop. “What?” 

“Cause you’re a blanket thief and I was cold and couldn't sleep.” You mumbled into a throw pillow giving him a sleepy side eye.

“I’ve tried that before,” You sighed. “You sleep like the dead. The world could fall apart and you would sleep through it. What time is it?”

“I’m sorry babe.” He said with a pout. “Why didn’t you wake me?”

“Almost eight,” He muttered looking at the clock. He pouted some more as he looked back at you, he could see dark circles under your eyes as proof that you hadn’t slept well due to the cold and his apparent need to hog the blankets in his sleep. He shifted carefully and reached down pushing his arms under your shoulders and legs lifting you up bridal style as you whined at him in indignation as he headed back towards his room. “The bed is more comfortable, baby.”

~*~*~*~

You just huffed as you buried your face in his chest letting him take you back to the cold room. Gently he laid you down on the bed and got in next to you hugging you to his chest letting you use him as a pillow as he pulled his blanket over the both of you making sure you were still tucked into the quilt as he held you. His heart beat lulling you back to sleep as you felt toasty warm now. 

A few days later you were back at the Munson trailer, a pout on your face as you walked into the living room. You were later than usual and had missed saying goodbye to Wayne tonight due to your later shift at the bookstore. “Baby! I’m here!”

“Hey!” He said as he leaned out of his room with a smile on his face. “How was work?” 

“It was okay, the Wheelers came in! They had to get a book for Mike’s little sister Holly.” You said as you pulled off your jacket and your shoes like normal. Crossing your arms over your chest you walk down the hall towards him. 

“I bought you something.” He smiled again pulling you closer by your hips. 

“Mhm!” Kissing your nose he pulled you into his room, closing the door behind you both as he moved around you so he could hug you from behind his chin on your shoulder. “Hopefully this makes up for being a blanket hog.”

“You did?” 

On his bed sat a new fluffy gray blanket with white polka dots wrapped in a black bow that he clearly tied himself. A small smile pulled on your lips as you turned to look at him. “It’s so cute and it looks so fluffy!” 

“I’m sorry I froze you the other night. This one is just for you, you don’t need to share it with anyone.” 

Eddie just smiled, hugging you tighter. “You’re welcome.”

You landed a kiss on his cheek. “Thank you baby. I love it!”

[weixuldo]

Enigma// Ch 1

Modern!Anakin x Reader

(A/N: this is the prompt abt 30s anakin and college student reader lol. it’s set in modern time and anakin is kind of antisocial…(more on that later) yes sounds like unconditionally but going a v diff route)

Stressed and upset, you go to a local dive bar to try to take your mind off of things…

warnings: alcohol, depression?, antisocial behavior

__________________________________________

“Thank you, have a nice weekend” is what your professor said at 2:30 Friday afternoon. You were finally free for the weekend, and boy did you need it. This week had been particularly rough for no apparent reason. You walked out of the lecture hall and down to the dining hall. 

It wasn’t terribly busy at the moment so you grabbed some food and went to look for a table. Once you set your food down you went to get a drink, sadly there was only one spout on the drink machine that produced regular water, and it was rather slow today.

You awkwardly stood there as the glass slowly filled. One of the popular student athletes was standing behind you. You didn’t know her name, but she had a beautiful complexion, not a pimple in sight. Her hair was done in braids with blue and white coloring. 

You felt bad about “hogging” the water so you just gave up at half a glass and excused yourself so she could fill her water bottle. You finished your late lunch in silence as you planned your night.

You got back to the dorm and your roommate was in there with her boyfriend…great. You told her you were going to the bar tonight and not to expect you back. Basically giving her the green light to have the boyfriend stay over. She thanked you, with a little too much enthusiasm and you left the  two of them to get ready elsewhere. 

You did your make up and put on a black dress that wasn't the most modest thing you had. I mean, you were looking to forget about the week after all. You grabbed the rest of your things and called an uber. You were definitely not planning to go back to campus tonight. 

You reached the shitty dive bar that all the college kids and ‘trendy” locals went to. Once you stepped out of the car, your heels sunk into gravel. You thanked your driver and continued into the smoke infested bar. 

The college kids with fakes tended to congregate around the front of the building, away from the actual bar, maybe out of fear of being caught. But you were of age so you sat yourself down on a barstool and leaned on the counter.

“Would you like the regular Darlin'” the bartender, who now considered you a regular, asked.

You nodded and the man began to prepare you a Moscow mule. He slid hte copper mug towards you and you thanked him. You sipped on the refreshing drink as you scanned the bar. 

Too old, too young, too loud, asshole, asshole, creep, too old

You almost gave up until you saw a handsome man leaning against the bar. He was wearing black pants, a dark long sleeve, and … gloves? He was basically dressed for winter…it was the middle of August.

You studied him a bit more before choosing to interact. He had a head of nice sandy brown hair and striking blue eyes. He had a sharp jawline and a beautiful side profile. You finished your drink for courage and then went on your way. 

“Nice outfit” you said, a flirty tone to your voice.

He turned to you slowly, “mhm” before sipping more of his drink. 

Sheesh. Tough crowd. 

“You don't look particularly happy to be here” you observed with a small smile.

He looked at you once more before placing his glass on the bar. 

“Correct, I’m not”.

“Why not?” you asked.

He nodded his head towards a bearded guy and a girl with braids. “We’re celebrating.”

“You don’t seem very celebratory”

“I don’t like bars” 

You hummed in response, “I don’t really like bars either”.

“Then why are you here?” he asked, kind of accusatory. 

“Because I’m fucking miserable” you giggled, which triggered a hiccup. 

He glanced at you and a small smirk tugged at his lips, “Me too”.

You smiled at him and ordered another round of drinks. Once you had enough alcohol in your system to be officially counted as inebriated, you became bolder. 

“What’s with the gloves?”

“It’s cold,” he responded shortly.

“It’s August”

To that he looked down at his glass. You moved to place your hand on one of his, but he snatched it away before you could. Before you could say anything the guy and girl he pointed at came up. 

Once they were in the light you recognized the girl from your school. She was the athlete who was behind you at lunch in the dining hall.

“Hey, Don't you go to my school?” she asked. You were surprised she remembered you.

“Yeah, I’m F/N L/N, I’m a junior” you extended your hand.

She shook it and smiled, “I’m Ashoka Tano, I’m a senior”.

You smiled, “I’ve seen you compete, you’re really talented”.

She let out a hearty laugh, “Well thank you… F/N!”

“Were you talking to this guy?” She asked, pointing to the guy you were indeed just talking to. 

“She was,” he answered before you.

“Wanna join us?” Ashoka asked, “we’re celebrating this job I got!”

“Of course! As long as you're fine with it” you smiled

“Definitely!”

You learned Ahsoka secured a job for the military, something to do with athletic training in the army. You later learned the oldest man in the group’s name was Obi-wan, but he went by Ben. The three of you enjoyed drinks for the greater portion of the night before you were all pretty drunk. 

“-Back”

Huh?

“I said how are you going to get back?” Anakin repeated.

He must have meant home. “Ummm, I don’t know- I didn't really expect to go home t-tonight” you slurred, trying to steady yourself.

He sighed, standing form his seated position . Obviously he was not as hammered as you. 

“I can drive or something” you offered.

“You’re way too wasted to get behind the wheel, plus you said you didn’t even drive here”.

Oh yeah.

“I’ll Uber” you offered.

“Nahhh, don't do that! The Uber’s here aren *hic* Aren’t safe” Ahsoka said, herself wasted as well. 

“Wait! Come with us!” she offered. “We’re crashing at Anakin’s!”.

He scowled at the woman behind him, he didn’t appreciate his house being offered up.

“No-It’s ok, he seems…mad” you said, his scowl looking menacing in your inebriated state.

“BOO! Party Pooper!” Ahsoka shouted, to which Ben shushed her. She rolled her eyes and continued to whisper “Boo”.

Anakin sighed and looked at you. You really weren’t in any shape to go back alone, and this wasn’t exactly the nicest part of town. He begrudgingly agreed and Ahsoka cheered. 

_____________________________________

Anakin’s apartment was rather small, it wasn’t a tidy place, but it wasn't necessarily dirty either. It was a one bedroom apartment with a kitchen, bathroom, and living area. Ben pulled out the sofa bed and Ahsoka flopped onto it. Anakin retired to his room and Ben took a cot from the closet to sleep on. You didn’t really know what to do, so  you just laid beside Ahsoka on the pullout

You examined his cluttered living room as you drifted to sleep. He had a lot of military gear and other random items scattered around. Was he a soldier? A headache rolled through your skull and you decided it was time to go to bed, you could wonder about the man tomorrow.

Morning came  quicker than you would have liked it to. But nonetheless it did. You woke up not as bad as you were expecting. You had a mild headache but you weren't gripped by nausea, not bad for the drinking you did last night. You propped yourself up in the bed and saw Ahsoka pulling the blankets up from the end of the bed. To your left ben was still fast asleep ont he cot. You smelled coffee and got up to see what was up.

You turned the corner into the kitchen and saw a disheveled Anakin shakily pouring himself a cup of straight black coffee. He was still wearing gloves but he now had on a sweatshirt and sweatpants. His hands were shaking and you were worried he’d spill the coffee so you went up to him to do it for him. 

His eyes widened when you took the mug and pot. You poured him a glass quickly and set the pot back under the maker. You placed the mug on the counter for him.

“I had that” he huffed. 

Okayyy no thank you huh?

He reached for the mug only for him to fumble with the handle. Eventually he got a grip on it and took a sip. What was going on?

“Hey, are you ok-”

“I’m fine.” he started putting the mug back onto the counter. But he set it down at an awkward angle and the mug fell over, spilling some in the sink and the rest on the counter. 

“Fuck!” he exclaimed.

You heard Ben yawn and turn the corner, “Oh, Anakin let me help you with that” he said, approaching the spill.

Anakin scoffed and walked past you to get some paper towels. Well it was more like a limp than a walk. 

He handed Ben some towels and they began to clean the spill. You went to reach for one to offer your help, but Anakin just glared at you.

Once you turned the corner into the living room you heard Ben say to him,  

“You really should learn to be nicer to people who are just trying to help”.

followed by a crisp

“fuck off”

***

(a/n another ani one, unlike unconditionally, is this one doesn’t have kids and his injuries aren’t from a car crash. I kinda just wanted to do an aloof bitchy ani with a naive/ oblivious reader)

taglist: @dnamht @sxoulohvn @angeelcoree @wtf-andys @httpeachesblog @katsukiswrld @jetiikote

[hometoursandotherstuff]

What a great 1885 Victorian in the lovely village of Waterloo, New York for only $194,500. It has 4bd. 2ba., and is situated on .55 acre of land.

Absolutely move-in ready. The floors are all redone, and there are pocket doors and a beautiful staircase.

The wallpaper they picked for the hall is kind of dark, but you can do a really cool Gothic look. 

Isn’t this unusual- there’s a large closet and look at the stained glass window. Very nice feature. 

There’s also a nice 1st fl. 1/2 bath.

I like the effect they achieved with the wallpaper in the sitting room. Look at what they did w/the ceiling. 

This could be a dining room and it has an amazing fireplace and a gorgeous ceiling light. The fireplace is so unusual. 

This is a nice secondary sitting room. Love the ceiling medallions and the lighting fixtures they chose. 

The kitchen is gigantic. It’s not a great remodel, but I think that I would tear the mismatched cabinets out and use assorted antique stand-alone pieces. 

Look at the great bones it has- the fireplace is still here. 

The appliances need to be closer together- it’s too spread out.

Look at the color in that window.

Cute bd. 

The bds. are very nicely redone- they’re completely refreshed for the new owner.

This home is impressively move-in ready for less than $200K.

The finished attic space would make a nice family room..

There’s storage space under the eaves.

The bath is nice and clean. It has a few vintage original touches including the windows.

The basement looks in good shape.

The home has a lovely large porch and a 2 car garage.

There’s plenty room on the large property. Look at the nice little barn.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/107-Virginia-St-Waterloo-NY-13165/32515295_zpid/

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

[CN] Victor x MC - S2 CH 44 - Part 2 (Eng Translation)

“This smile is not pretty, and I have a feeling that I’ve seen this man smile even more beautifully before.”

“The falling fireworks are as gorgeous as the reminiscence of tears cascading down from the galaxy.”

Do remember to read PART 1 first: Here!

⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a chapter that is yet to be released on the global server. ⌚  

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 44-9】

The car comes to a slow halt, and the familiar décor of Souvenir comes into view.

After pushing the door open, we are greeted with an exquisite and meticulously organized hallway. Bright lights illuminate the pristine floor, and the tabletops are smooth. Additionally, there is also a pleasant fragrance in the air.

Souvenir likely wasn’t open for business during the time Victor was away, but Mr. Mills still took care of the place attentively.

Seated in the dining chair that exclusively belongs to me, I rest my face on my hands and suddenly sigh for no apparent reason.

Victor: What’s the matter?

MC: Nothing… It just occurred to me that we only have three days now, so shouldn’t we prioritize the investigation?

Victor: Haven’t we already started the investigation?

MC: But…

Victor: Although the other party seems to have gotten the head start, they have also divulged some information.

Victor: They are in a rush.

Victor: That’s why they hurried to take action when Meng Chang took office. 

Victor: The more critical the situation is, the more important it is to remain calm. If you allow yourself to be controlled by the other party, you will only end up in a disadvantageous position.

Victor: What we need to do now is to get the other party to follow our rhythm.

MC: I see…

As I listen to Victor calmly analyze the situation, my inner restlessness gradually subsides.

The current situation is impossible to unravel, and it’s difficult to discern the opponent’s true intentions. So, the best course of action at the moment is to wait patiently for opportunities to present themselves.

After completely abandoning my worries, I can’t help but gesture at the empty tableware on the empty dining table in front of me.

MC: So we didn’t come to Souvenir just to look around, did we?

Victor’s gaze carries a slight hint of helplessness within as he lifts the corner of his eyes.

Victor: I’ve already got the ingredients prepared, so it won’t take long to cook.

MC: So that means, I’ll be able to eat pudding soon?

I look up at Victor, my eyes brimming with expectation.

Victor: Unfortunately, the pudding couldn’t be prepared in advance.

Victor: However, I do know a way to get a certain someone to eat her pudding faster.

Victor walks a step closer to me and slowly takes my fingertips in his hand.

Victor: Let’s head to the kitchen and help me out.

—

Along with the familiar aromas wafting from the brightly-lit kitchen, I see that many dishes are already prepared on the spacious table.

Victor skillfully flips the steak in the pan, and the unique aroma of the seared meat continues to stimulate my sense of smell.

Although my stomach is rumbling with hunger, I’m still holding onto the mixer and diligently stirring the egg yolks I just added to the bowl.

I glance at the exquisite food on the table, emitting a tempting aroma, and quietly move closer.

The refreshing and sweet basil sauce paired with the perfectly crispy texture of the shrimp makes it hard to resist the urge to dig in.

Using my fingertips, I pick up a shrimp tail buried at the bottom of the dish, and while Victor isn’t paying attention, I pop it into my mouth.

Victor: Aren’t you supposed to be helping? How come you’re sneaking a bite?

MC: …!

Caught in the act, I guiltily wipe my hands in haste and frantically continue to stir the ingredients in my hand, pretending nothing has happened.

Victor: …if you continue beating it like that, the good pudding will be turned into the batter for a cream cake.

Victor helplessly takes the mixer from my hand.

With great effort, I swallow the food I have just eaten on the sly, then put on a dignified and righteous look.

MC: After all, you haven’t cooked in such a long time, so I was just checking if your craftsmanship had become rusty.

Victor: Even after all this time, the dummy’s excuses are still as peculiar as ever.

—

The lights on the windowsill shimmer brightly, and Souvenir finally welcomes its guest after a long absence.

The table is adorned with a variety of food items arranged with great care, and the exquisite color combinations are reminiscent of pieces of art. In the center of it all is the pudding I have just “made an effort to participate” in making.

We are the only two people in the spacious hall, locking eyes with each other. Even our breathing comes to a pause momentarily.

I blink my eyes slowly, and in this moment, it feels as if this image is being etched into my mind to remain there forever.

Victor: Why are you in a daze again?

The swaying lights softly trace Victor’s contours, haloing him in a blur of colors. I smile and squint my eyes.

MC: Souvenir without any customers… it feels like this dinner has been prepared just for me.

Victor’s brows arch slightly at my words, and he slowly walks up to me. He takes my hand, his warm fingertips caressing the back of my hand.

Victor: Has there ever been a lack of times when I prepared just for you?

The sentence falls heavily on my ears, stirring up ripples of the past. By the time I snap out of it, he has already led me to my seat.

Victor: The only thing you need to do right now is to enjoy everything.

–

The moon gradually conceals itself behind the clouds, and the night deepens.

I’m bored to death as I remain seated in my seat, waiting for Victor, who has gone to get something from the car.

The door of the restaurant suddenly opens. Thinking that it’s Victor who has come back, I lift my eyes to see but am met with the sight of a stranger standing at the doorway.

Customer: I apologize for bothering you, but is the restaurant officially open now?

The other party has a polite and inquisitive look and seems to be a diner who dropped in by chance.

Considering the challenges LFG has been facing recently, Victor will surely be particularly busy, and Souvenir probably won’t be open for business for the time being.

With this thought in mind, I apologize on my own initiative.

MC: I’m sorry, it will take some time before Souvenir can open for business.

Customer: Oh, I see. I was passing by just now and saw you having a meal, so I thought the restaurant was already open for business.

MC: Um, I… I’m the chef’s assistant. I just came over with him today to clean up a bit. That’s why we had a simple meal together.

Customer: You were just having a meal with the Souvenir’s chef?! What a shame that I didn’t get to see him! I’ve been here so many times and still haven’t met the legendary chef!

Customer: Since the restaurant isn’t open yet, I’ll ask again next time I visit. I’m sorry for bothering you guys.

The other person expresses their apology and leaves with a regretful look. After a while, the door is opened once again.

Just as I’m about to tell Victor about the arrival of a guest, my attention is diverted by the large and small bags he is holding in his hands.

MC: Why did you buy so many things?

Victor: As this business trip was relatively long, I brought along a few gifts for my family members.

The plain tone sounds as if he’s saying, “These are still not enough.”

Victor: So, one of the purposes of coming to Souvenir was to seek your help in distributing these gifts.

MC: You want me to distribute the gifts? What if the recipients don’t find the gifts to their liking?

Victor: It doesn’t matter.

Victor pauses for a moment, then adds with a smile.

Victor: If worse comes to worst, I won’t tell them who picked the gifts at first. So if they aren’t happy with their presents, I’ll be the one to blame.

I also giggle and curiously open Victor’s gifts, which unveil various objects of different sizes that we spread out on several tables.

The bags are adorned with exquisite decorations and have logos written in various languages from around the world. The gifts inside include intricate handmade knick-knacks as well as a diverse selection of luxury items that are not commonly found in the market.

While the gifts are very much in line with the “Victor-style,” the assortment of items demonstrates the level of care he has invested in them.

After careful deliberation, I help Victor choose a handmade teapot for his father and a necklace for Aunt Grace. I also advise on gift ideas for the other people on his list.

However, after tallying up everything, there are still a bunch of gifts that haven’t been assigned to an “owner.”

MC: What should we do with these extra gifts?

Victor: Has a certain someone forgotten something?

The warm-toned lights reflect in his eyes, setting off an endless series of ripples.

Victor: While making all these distributions, how come you didn’t count yourself in?

In the next second, the piles of gifts are naturally pushed in front of me. Amid the hazy lighting, there is an indescribable tenderness in Victor’s expression.

Dumbfounded, I sweep my gaze over the table. All kinds of intricate and bright colors are shining brightly on the tabletop.

Ultimately, my attention is drawn to a handkerchief that is not particularly noticeable.

The soft and delicate fabric flows through my palm, and the embroidered design at the edge creates a perfect curve as it moves through the air.

MC: I’ll choose this handkerchief then.

Victor: …just this one?

MC: Mm, just this one.

MC: Sometimes, the simplest option is the best choice~

Victor gazes at me as a mixture of helplessness and amusement surfaces on his face, and a small smile graces the corners of his lips.

Victor: …that’s indeed the dummy’s style.

MC: Since I’ve already chosen my gift, it’s your turn!

Victor: Have you ever seen someone buying a gift to give themselves?

MC: What’s wrong with that… I do it all the time.

Victor must have put a lot of thought into preparing so many things. But, the person who deserves to receive a gift the most is Victor himself.

My gaze sweeps over the assortment of gifts on the table, then I glance down at the handkerchief I have just chosen in my hand. Suddenly, an idea pops into my head.

I walk up to Victor and neatly fold the handkerchief in my hand, placing it in his breast pocket.

MC: If you don’t want to choose one for yourself, I will assign this gift to Vic (Xiao Li)!

Victor: …

Victor: This is what people call “presenting Buddha with borrowed flowers.”

Despite saying so, he doesn’t decline the gift. He runs his slender fingers over the handkerchief on his chest and lapses into silence for a moment.

For a while, neither of us speaks. I just gaze at him quietly, watching as the corners of his lips part slightly and the complicated, deep emotions in his eyes become evident.

Victor: You took all that trouble, but you’re not leaving anything for yourself in the end?

MC: Who says I haven’t left anything for myself?

I lift my head and, with an earnest expression written on my whole face, wrap my arm around his.

MC: I left Victor for myself. Doesn’t it mean that I already have everything?

Victor remains silent, his deep gaze fixed on me. The distant moonlight reflects the shimmering specks of starlight in his eyes, and it seems as if something is quietly surging within him.

Eventually, a smile still tugs at the corners of his lips.

Victor: Yes, it does.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 44-11】

To avoid Meng Chang’s surveillance, at Victor’s suggestion, I choose to stay at his place for a few days.

The following day, we get into the car ahead of time and prepare to head to our respective workplaces.

Since Victor’s reminder yesterday, I’ve begun gathering information on Meng Chang as soon as possible.

News: Mr. Meng Chang, who came to the city yesterday, conducted a visit and thorough investigation into the measures related to the redevelopment project of Loveland City.

News: The locations involved include not just landmark buildings within this city but also newly-built public welfare facilities such as nursing homes and kindergartens.

News: Mr. Meng Chang’s action aims to drive forward the long-stagnated redevelopment work in this city. Additionally, he also conducted a comprehensive investigation of the enterprises involved in the redevelopment. 

News: According to reports, several companies have already undergone investigation, among them being [MC’s Company Name], a participant in the redevelopment project, as well as the celebrated LFG.

News: Although the investigation findings have not been disclosed yet, it is reported that [MC’s Company Name] is involved in a major financial issue.

News: As an investor of [MC’s Company Name], LFG also seems to be heavily implicated.

In the video, the picture changes into the LFG building, while the projects in which LFG participated in Loveland City are also displayed on the side.

The Cliff Villa, nearing completion, is still decorated with celebratory balloons. But at this moment in the picture, it appears unusually chilly.

I tightly purse my lips, and my fingertips touching the screen feel slightly cold. Even though we took emergency measures yesterday, I didn’t expect the situation would ferment so rapidly. 

City Hall Bodyguard: Miss MC, we’ve arrived.

As the car comes to a slow stop, the company’s building appears in front of me. The spacious entrance, which is usually unobstructed, is now crowded by a swarm of visiting journalists, causing an impenetrable blockade.

The camera lens in the far-off distance is flickering, reminiscent of an innumerable number of eyes.

“The more chaotic the situation is, the more important it is to remain calm and not get caught up in the opponent’s rhythm.”

Victor’s words from last night replay in my mind, giving me an invisible confidence boost.

I take a few deep breaths before raising my hand and opening the door.

—

By the time I see Victor again, the night has already fallen.

Although there is no one at the company entrance, those cameras remain hidden in the shadows, reminiscent of vultures waiting for their prey.

I quickly get into Victor’s car, and upon seeing his familiar figure seated beside me, my anxiety alleviates to some extent.

MC: Victor, how was the situation at LFG today?

Victor: The same as usual.

The uncharacteristically cold and distant tone catches me off guard for a moment, and it looks like he doesn’t intend to continue the conversation.

MC: Victor…?

I turn my head to look at Victor. Without changing his expression, he gently holds onto my hand while keeping his gaze fixed straight ahead.

My mind stirs slightly, but I swallow back the question that’s about to escape my lips and imitate his posture instead as I lean back against the seat.

The urban scenery slowly recedes on the window glass in silence until a familiar building appears in my sight.

Victor: Park the car by the side of the road.

The bodyguard complies with the instructions, and Victor motions for me to get out of the car first. He then crouches down and fumbles around at the crack of the door a few times.

Shortly after, he lifts his hand, and between his fingers is a bugging device that had been planted there at an unknown time.

Victor: The glue is quite fresh. It seems to have been attached only recently.

He simply states it plainly, but it’s enough to make the faces of Meng Chang’s bodyguards turn deathly pale.

City Hall Bodyguard: Th-that…

The bodyguard in front of the car seems to want to say something in defense, only to be responded with the sound of Victor closing the door.

Victor: If something like this happens again, you guys must be aware of the appropriate course of action.

—

After returning home, I battle with all my willpower to keep myself seated on the sofa. The eavesdropping incident just now is merely a microcosm of what we’ve been experiencing lately.

If the root of the problem is not tackled, such situations will continue to emerge endlessly.

I lightly tap myself on the forehead, trying my regain my vigor as much as possible and focus on the investigation report sent back by Victor’s team on the table.

Almost all of the previous suspects are eliminated in the report, down to the extent that the entire focus now is drawn toward the missing accountant, Chen Hui.

However, among the information we’ve received, in addition to confirming that his previous work experience was completely fabricated before he arrived, another noteworthy point is that - he is an Evolver of the space department.

I carefully analyze the connection between the fragments of information before me, and gradually, a web that has been laid out for a long time appears before me.

The fact that Chen Hui is kept hidden in this way suggests that the mastermind behind it all must have a great deal of trust in him, and it’s likely that Chen Hui also knows the identity of the other party.

In other words, if we can find Chen Hui, not only can we clear the public’s opinion outside, it will increase our chances of uncovering the person behind him.

My mind is filled with chaos, as if slicing up every part of the past few days of my life into tiny fragments.

It’s not until the sound of a soft voice accompanied by the aroma of milk reaches my ears that I’m snapped out of my trance.

Victor: MC.

I lift my eyes to look at Victor, who’s already been sitting beside me without even me noticing when he came over. He leans in and calmly places a glass into the palm of my hand.

Victor: There’s no need to be so anxious.

He takes hold of my wrist and quietly leads me into his arms. His palm, warm against my back, gently pats me up and down.

Miraculously, my restless emotions slowly calm down. It feels like as long as he is by my side, all the anxiety and worries will become insignificant in his presence.

Victor: Loveland is not a big city. No matter how hard you try to hide left or right, there is always a limit.

Victor: I had already sent people to conduct a comprehensive investigation throughout the city from the moment I was being investigated. The purpose was to exert pressure on the other party.

Victor: As long as the opponent senses this, they will undoubtedly take the next step of action before we find this person.

Ding, ding – Victor’s phone suddenly rings. He answers the call, and as he listens to the voice on the other end, a stern expression appears on his face.  

Victor: Chen Hui has appeared.

Chen Hui: The Loveland City redevelopment project that everyone has been looking forward to is progressing so slowly, and the main culprit behind all of this is LFG! 

Chen Hui: Under their coercion, I had no choice but to comply with their demands to become a tool for transferring assets.

Chen Hui: I know that they have sent people to catch me, and I may be caught soon. But I believe that someone will eventually stand up for justice on my behalf!

In the video playing on the phone, Chen Hui, who has been missing for a long time, is actually sitting calmly in the hall of the villa.

The room is adorned with gorgeous vintage furniture, and even the walls are covered in exquisite patterns.

Although the scenery outside the window is somewhat blurred, a vague sense of familiarity emanates from it.

MC: Is this… the Cliff Villa that LFG was in charge of reconstructing before?

I stare at Chen Hui in the video, my brows involuntarily furrowed together into a frown.

He speaks with calmness and composure, as if he is not the slightest bit worried about his whereabouts being known by others, seemingly suggesting that he is not the culprit behind framing [MC’s Company Name], but rather an innocent victim.

MC: But why would Chen Hui suddenly appear out of nowhere? Could there be some conspiracy behind it?

Victor: Rather than a conspiracy, it’s a blatantly laid out trap.

Victor: Moreover, the other party is confident that we will walk right into their trap.

Victor’s tone is serene, his deep voice laced with a solemn undertone.

Although Chen Hui’s actions appear to expose himself, he has actually garnered significant social attention. If he is allowed to continue unchecked, it will likely trigger even greater waves in public opinion.

The other party has used retreat as a way to advance, putting us in a difficult situation where we are stuck between a rock and a hard place.

I flip through the investigation document on Chen Hui again, and an idea suddenly comes to mind.

MC: Before we set off, I’m gonna make a quick phone call.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 44-12】

By the time Victor and I arrive close to the villa where Chen Hui is located, bodyguards are already stationed around the vicinity as per Victor’s arrangements.

The curtains at Cliff Villa are swaying, indicating that someone might be trying to peek outside from within.

Victor: How is the situation now?

Bodyguard: We’ve confirmed that the person is currently inside the villa.

Bodyguard: We just attempted to break in, but the other party is an Evolver in the Space Department. He can directly teleport anyone in their line of sight, and he teleported many of our comrades out of the area.

Bodyguard: The last encounter with him was in the master bedroom on the west side of the second floor, and we didn’t take any further action after that.

After a brief moment of contemplation, Victor asks again.

Victor: What is the approximate range of his distance control?

Bodyguard: About four meters.

Victor: Got it. Ask the ones who are injured to step aside and rest for a while.

As I watch the injured bodyguards being assisted in departing, I wrinkle my brows into a frown.

It’s evident that Chen Hui has the ability to teleport a large number of people, so why is he insistent on staying here?

Moreover, despite knowing that there are people outside the door, he still seems unconcerned.

MC: Could it be that… Chen Hui never had the intention of escaping in the first place?

Victor: It’s highly likely.

Victor: Based on the current situation, it seems highly probable that the other party is stalling for time.

MC: Could he be waiting for backup to arrive?

Victor: It’s unclear, but…

Bodyguard: CEO Victor! Take a look at this!

Before he can finish his words, a bodyguard hurries over holding a phone that is playing a news broadcast.

News: “——Mr. Meng Chang is currently en route to the villa reconstruction area for an inspection, and the media is vying to cover the story.”

MC: Hold on…

I vaguely feel that a gear that is not quite wedged in the event flashes through my mind.

MC: That’s too much of a coincidence… did Meng Chang know that Chen Hui would be here beforehand?

I lift my gaze towards Victor, who calmly surveys the villa before us, while his facial expression betrays a touch of solemnity.

Victor: Regardless of Meng Chang’s purpose for coming here, we need to capture him first.

Victor: Otherwise, things will become more troublesome.

I clearly understand Victor’s point. Meng Chang’s coming here must be accompanied by a large amount of media coverage. Should he witness Chen Hui being captured,  the media will undoubtedly report it without restraint.

As I’m feeling extremely agitated, the phone in my hand suddenly rings.

Zehn (on the call): Haha, boss, I’m here!

Zehn (on the call): I was actually on vacation, but I rushed back as soon as you called. Aren’t I very loyal?

Zehn’s voice comes through the phone, causing my hanging heart just now to be lowered halfway.

As a Space Evolver, Zehn understands the weakness of this ability the most. As long as he strikes when Chen Hui is off-guard, we can capture him.

I briefly explain Chen Hui’s ability to Zehn, and he bursts into laughter.

Zehn (on the call): Only four meters? That's far less compared to my ability. However, I'm currently on a different slope, and it will take me around ten minutes to get there.

MC (on the call): There’s not enough time. Can you see the villa in front of me from where you are?

Zehn (on the call): Um, I can barely see half of the corridor.

Upon hearing Zehn’s words, I can’t help but furrow my eyebrows.

At this moment, Victor walks up to me.

Victor: Are you trying to make him leave the room and go out to the corridor?

MC: Hmm, but that seems difficult…

Victor: Give me three minutes, and I’ll help you with that.

Victor looks at me with certainty, as if this is merely a trivial task for him to accomplish.

Victor: I’ll leave the rest to you once he is out in the corridor. Alright?

I nod. Although it’s a somewhat audacious move, it’s worth a try at this point.

MC: Sure, absolutely.

After his words, Victor bends down slightly and helps me put on the earpiece. His fingertip lightly grazes my ear, leaving a slight warmth in its trail.

Victor: Go.

I take a few deep breaths and address Zehn.

MC (on the call): Send me to the corridor.

—

After a momentary distortion in my vision, I find myself in the corridor. I know that in just three minutes, Chen Hui will be leaving his room.

Although Victor didn’t explain his plan to me, I have faith in him.

Four meters. Only four meters.

I look calmly at the hallway ahead of me, while continuously envisioning what might happen later.

Not long after, I seem to hear intermittent sounds coming from my earpiece.

Exactly three minutes have passed.

Accompanied by the steady voice in my earpiece, Chen Hui, who is yelling furiously, bursts out of the door, stumbling and crashing.

Victor (through the earpiece): He is out.

Victor (through the earpiece): I’m leaving the rest in your hands.

I nod my head, then shout vigorously at the other person.

MC: Chen Hui! You must know who I am, correct?

The other party’s body visibly freezes for a moment before he turns around to face me.

MC: I know you’ve been monitoring me all along, and I’m also aware of your true conspiracy.

Immediately after I speak, a gradual sound of footsteps approaches from the end of the corridor.

One step, two steps, every time his feet land, it feels as if he is treading on my breath.

How far is he from me now? And how far is Zehn from him?

Chen Hui: You can’t possibly know…

MC: Is that so? Would you like me to tell you then?

MC: At first, you figured out a way to infiltrate the company, bided your time for an appropriate moment, and concurrently kept monitoring me.

MC: However, even after a long time, you did not receive any corresponding instructions until a particular event occurred.

MC: Meng Chang took office.

Chen Hui lapses into silence as the sound of footsteps echoes through the corridor once more, only this time, they are much faster.

MC: You guys knew Meng Chang’s style, so you deliberately provided him with leads.

MC: Your aim was to implicate LFG, wasn’t it?

I try my hardest to suppress the nervousness in my chest and sustain my confidence.

The shadow of the corridor streaks across his face, dividing his footsteps in two. Now all he needs to do is step across the boundary between light and dark on the ground to succeed.

But Chen Hui stops walking.

He holds his hand up and looks straight at me, and there seems to be some kind of subtle fluctuation in the air.

Chen Hui: Your life is now in my hands, and I can throw you off the cliff at any time.

My heart begins beating uncontrollably, but I try my best to remain calm so my voice won’t tremble when I speak. 

The victory or defeat will be decided in the next instant.

MC: Then why haven’t you taken any action yet?

Tightening my lips and suppressing my racing heartbeat, I take a step forward with determination. I want to force him into making a choice.

MC: Or is it that the person behind you won’t allow you to do this?

Chen Hui: …

Chen Hui’s eyebrows jump suddenly, and the calm composure he had on his face in the video disappears, replaced by a dark expression.

He steps half a pace forward and lifts his hand abruptly.

Chen Hui: Who said I’m unable to take action?

At this moment, as the distance lights illuminate his side profile, the balance of victory is slanted toward me.

MC: Zehn!

The intense wave of dizziness shatters the trailing sound of my call, and as my vision spins, Chen Hui’s figure suddenly vanishes from my line of sight.

Simultaneously, I’m also flung out of the corridor by strong inertia and abruptly fall into a brilliant light.

Splash––

Amidst the dizzying whirl, I stagger to my feet from the neither-too-deep-nor-too-shallow pool, and my blurry vision gradually regains its clarity.

The setting sun slowly sinks toward the horizon, painting the figure approaching at this moment with a red glow.

MC: Victor, look! I did it!

MC: I didn’t expect that I’d actually succeed!

Victor: [heavily doting sigh mixed with inexplicable relief]  Hmm, I heard everything.

Victor walks to the edge of the pool and bends down, reaching out his hand towards me naturally. But then, he pauses for a moment before discreetly lowering his arm.

He parts his lips, as if there is something very important on the tip of his tongue that needs to be released, yet he never speaks it out loud.

But I know it’s not a criticism, and perhaps it’s not even a compliment.

It’s simply a sentence he wants to say but is unable to find the words for.

I blink my eyes at him in perplexity. However, before I can say anything, he has already bent down and retrieved the handkerchief I’ve given him from his chest.

The soft fabric dabs away the droplets of water on my face, and I can still feel the warmth radiating from his chest.

The action of his wiping is slow, as he does it with great care and cherishment.

My heart suddenly feels an inexplicable pang of sourness, but I quickly lift my head and give him a big smile.

MC: See~ this gift is very handy, isn’t it?

The fingertips resting on my cheek pause briefly, and I seem to hear a soft, almost imperceptible sigh.

Victor: [istg that sigh shaved off a few years of my life]  Dummy.

–

───── [Narrator’s POV Begins] ─────

The sky darkens, and the moonlight caresses the contours of Victor’s sharply defined face, leaving behind the trails of an unfathomable emotion.

He gazes quietly in the girl’s direction, while the “dummy” he couldn’t hold back just now echoes in his mind.

Obviously, he doesn’t have the count of how many times he has called her “dummy.”

However, this time, he feels an indescribable sentiment lingering in his chest.

In fact, she has always been capable of exceeding her own expectations, and he has long known this fact better than anyone else.

She always says that he is her confidence. But the truth is that she may have already found it within herself to walk forward without even realizing it.

When that clear line stood between them, he had witnessed her proudly proving herself to him.

He just didn’t know which expression to put on, so he chose to adopt his usual demeanor.

It turns out that she had already achieved it long ago, and it was just that he couldn’t bear to let go.

It turns out that he himself had acted like a dummy without even realizing it.

───── [Narrator’s POV Ends] ─────

—

─────

【CH 44-13】

Reporter: CEO Victor? Why is he also here?

Reporter: CEO Victor, would you mind answering a few questions if you have time?

Wearing Victor’s coat, I sit on the steps next to the villa, watching Victor standing in the distance before the media who came after hearing the news.

He adeptly responds to all the tricky and blunt questions raised by the journalists, just as he has always done in the past.

Meng Chang: What a coincidence! Is CEO Victor also here for the inspection of the project?

The crowd parts ways on their own, and Meng Chang walks out from the center. He speaks in an amiable tone and doesn’t seem to think that the group of journalists he’s brought has caused any inconvenience for Victor.

Victor: I’m simply here to attend to some personal matters.

Hearing Victor’s words, Meng Chang nods in understanding.

Meng Chang: I apologize for the delay caused by my untimely arrival, CEO Victor.

Meng Chang: However, judging from CEO Victor’s appearance, the matter should have already been resolved, right?

Victor: I believe Mr. Meng will soon find out.

Victor turns his head, and his gaze drifts casually toward Chen Hui, who is sitting in the car and is unable to use his power due to restrictions.

Meng Chang nods with a smile, and Victor turns around to leave. However, just then, another reporter steps forward.

Reporter: I’m from the City Hall’s Publicity Department. Would you two please take a photo together?

Meng Chang: I don’t mind. I’m simply curious about what CEO Victor thinks…

Victor: As an ordinary citizen, it’s my duty to comply.

Victor: I also hope that Mr. Meng remembers the obligations of the City Hall.

After Victor finishes speaking, he takes half a step to the side and makes a gesture of invitation.

Meng Chang: …of course, I remember.

Meng Chang turns around with a smile across his whole face, and for the first time, takes off his leather gloves.

And as soon as their hands meet, a slight crease forms on Victor’s otherwise composed brow.

However, his expression reverts to its normal state in the next second. The flash of the cameras lights up in due course, bearing witness to this scene of “friendly exchange.”

—

After changing out of the soaking wet clothes, Victor and I proceed to drive home.

MC: It’s a pity that Chen Hui was taken away by City hall, but we had no reason to keep him back in their presence either…

MC: Thankfully, once the accounts are disclosed to the public, the previous climate of opinion should be resolved quickly.

MC: Although I’m not afraid that Meng Chang will play tricks after having Chen Hui in his grasp… after all, we still have the archives. But I still feel a little anxious for some reason…

MC: Say, will Meng Chang really solve the subsequent problems? And about the mastermind behind Chen Hui… [realizes she’s been chattering all alone so far]  Victor?

After muttering to myself for a long time with no reply, I turn to look at Victor, who is driving beside me, only to find that he too has turned his head at this moment.

Victor: What were you just saying?

This guy was actually absent-minded! I can’t help but pull the corner of Victor’s clothes and reply to him in a tone of dissatisfaction.

MC: I was talking about that Meng Chang….!

Victor remains silent for a while, fixating his gaze on the road ahead.

Victor: Meng Chang appears to be amiable on the surface but is actually very shrewd.

Victor: There will likely be further troubles down the road when dealing with him in the future.

Victor furrows his brows, and his words reveal an imperceptible anger.

Victor: Moreover, there is a certain uneasiness that comes with him.

MC: What kind of uneasiness?

Victor: It’s hard to say. Anyway, you should be more careful around him from now on.

MC: In fact, you are the one who needs to be more careful around him! Although he appeared to be targeting my company, he was actually aiming at LFG.

Victor: Mm. Moving forward, I…

Midway through his sentence, Victor suddenly swallows back his words and lapses into a certain silence.

The streetlights on either side of the road shine down, casting a faint glow of quietude. I move closer to him and adopt a half-joking tone.

MC: By the way, you haven’t told me how you got Chen Hui to come out!

MC: I just know that it had to be done within those three minutes.

Victor: Is the answer really important?

MC: I’m simply curious…

Victor’s gaze falls on the road ahead, and he says in a deep voice:

Victor: I did the math that if everyone present at the time went to capture Chen Hui, the maximum limit would be three minutes.

Victor: After three minutes, either my people would rush in and succeed, or it might result in failure.

MC: So, you were taking a gamble?

Victor: Yes.

Victor: But I don’t seem to be the only one who took a gamble.

He arches his eyebrows slightly. It appears he had already seen through my audacious plan at that time. And even though he knew this, he still chose to trust without a second thought.

MC: So what was going through your mind when you saw me falling into the pool? After all, a certain someone seemed to be hemming and hawing when he came running…

MC: Victor, do you have something you want to say to me but feel a little embarrassed to say out loud?

Upon hearing me say this, Victor freezes momentarily.

MC: Rest assured. Even if CEO Victor praises me above the moon, I can take it~

Victor’s gaze drifts slightly toward me, and a barely perceptible smile appears at the corner of his lips.

Victor: [heavenly laughter but somehow pricks you in the heart]  I do have something to say to you.

Victor: But for something so important, does a certain someone really want to hear it in the car?

MC: Since when did CEO Victor become so adept at “diverting the conversation”?

Victor: Being with you all day long… this is called seeping in through osmosis.

Victor: Also, have you forgotten something?

MC: Hm?

Victor: The two lantern festival tickets that were placed inside the proposal, were they simply for me to take a look at?

—

[Tidbits]: It’s a subtle nod to their “Night Cherry Date” (on EN), and how MC placed the play tickets inside the proposal, but he missed them cause Goldman thought those were for him since MC didn’t leave a note lmao~ T_T

—

Upon hearing him say this, I immediately open the proposal and, sure enough, find the tickets inside.

Victor: I even thought that perhaps it was a special surprise you prepared.

Victor: But now it appears that a certain dummy herself has forgotten about it.

Feeling embarrassed, I glance down at the tickets and notice that the designated time for the festival is 6:00 pm to 8:30 pm.

MC: It’s almost 8 o’clock now. I don’t know if we can make it in time if we go now…

Victor looks at his wristwatch and steps on the accelerator.

Victor: At my side, you will always have enough time.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【CH 44-15】

[Tidbits]: It’s wholly unnecessary to mention, really, but yeah, we will see the “travel back” back to their “Lantern Date” here~ Should also mention his chapter tagline at this point because— ༼⁠;⁠´⁠༎ຶ⁠ ⁠۝ ⁠༎ຶ⁠༽

“And like that, he walks through the cracks of time, illuminated by his own wounds.”

───

The streets are adorned with colorful lights, zigzagging ahead reminiscent of a galaxy on the ground.

Victor and I stroll along the path decorated with colorful lanterns, surrounded by a bustling crowd.

As if to completely forget the worries that have risen over the past few days, we both slow our pace down in tacit agreement.

Holding his hand in mine, we walk through the streets and alleys, as if we are stepping across the waning light of time.

Looking at the multitude of lanterns lining the street, I can’t help but stop in my stride. For some reason, memories from the distant past come flooding back to me like an overwhelming tide.

Memories of that dazzling starry night surge back, along with the wish he and I had written together for all wishes to come true.

Back then, I thought wishing for “may all wishes come true” was too greedy. But now I know as long as I’m able to be with him – this alone is my wish come true.

Victor: Are you planning to write “may all wishes come true” again?

MC: How did you know!

Victor points at my face, his expression brimming with a smile as if saying, “All your thoughts are written on your face.”

MC: Humph, this time, I’ll definitely make a wish that you won’t be able to guess!

Victor: Let’s hear it then.

MC: For instance… my wish is to have ice cream now?

I stick my tongue out and deliberately make a tangential wish.

Victor looks at me with an imperceptible smile, giving my finger he is holding a gentle pinch.

Victor: Sure, what flavor do you want?

MC: You’re actually saying yes? I was just joking around. I don’t think they sell ice cream here...

Victor: There isn’t any here, but let’s go and check out the place up ahead.

Victor: The path ahead of us is still very long.

We walk leisurely onto the lantern-lit bridge adorned for the festival, and the crowds grow increasingly dense. The lights soften Victor’s features, and the flickering candle-lights embellish the entire long dark night.

Today, he seems to be more silent than usual, but the smile on his face is also a little wider than usual.

I remember the words he didn’t say in the car earlier, and I sway the hand I am holding with him.

MC: Mr. deliberately being mysterious CEO Victor, can you tell me now? 

MC: What was it that you wanted to tell me earlier?

Victor: I don’t need to think about what I want to say for so long.

As we talk, our pace slows down, and we stop in the middle of the small bridge.

Victor’s gaze firmly locks onto mine, as if his eyes have been on me from beginning to end and have never strayed away.

—

[Anika’s Tidbits]: I do want to talk about the grammar of this sentence here since it’s a very important detail. The 2nd half of the sentence is “仿佛从始至终就在那里, 不曾离开,” the writers could have added a pronoun (他), or a subject (他的目光) to make it more definite, but I can see why they didn’t. The sentence is structured in a way that you could interpret it as either the one I translated or “he has been there from beginning to end and has never left.” I chose the former because it keeps in pace and conveys the intensity of emotions more heavily– « that this person’s eyes have always been on you, which means, they may have a thousand things going on in their life to distract them, but you’re still the center of their world, and they will always return home to you », which again, is a recurring theme for Victor x MC, and crucial for the upcoming part~ ༎ຶ⁠‿⁠༎ຶ

—

But he still doesn’t tell me what he wants to say. Instead, he raises his hand and points his fingertips toward under the bridge.

Victor: It seems that a certain someone’s wish is about to come true immediately.

I glance in the direction his finger is pointing and vaguely see an ice cream sign at the distant end of the bridge.

MC: There really is…!

Although I intended to deliberately make things difficult for him, it ended up being more like a trap that I’ve thrown myself into unwittingly. This causes me to foam at the mouth and clench my fists.

Victor: I’ll never break the promises I’ve made to you.

Victor: So, before that, let’s satisfy the wish of a certain dummy first.

His voice becomes a little more serious, causing my heart to soften.

MC: Then you wait for me here~

Victor: Do you really need a sense of mystery to buy ice cream?

MC: Hmm! If you can correctly guess the two flavors I bought, I’ll share one with you. After all, this is my wish.

Victor: [i can’t with his voice anymore––]  Childish.

Victor can’t contain his laughter, and the corners of his eyebrows curve into a beautiful arc.

Victor: Then remember to walk a little faster. The lantern show is about to start.

MC: I’ll be back very soon! You wait for me here, and don’t wander off too far!

Weaving through the crowd, I turn my head several times to confirm Victor is still obediently standing in place, then hurriedly run towards the small shop by the bridge.

MC: Boss, give me one strawberry-flavored and one milk-flavored. And please make it quick~

Milk and strawberry – he will surely be able to guess that I got these two.

Carrying the prepared ice cream, I walk towards the bridge, and from afar, I can see that familiar figure.

He stands quietly in place, his silhouette hazed by the lantern lights. Even though the distance makes it hard for me to see him clearly, I have a wonderful intuition that he is gazing at me.

I subconsciously quicken my pace and walk up to the bridge. Perhaps because the lantern festival is about to start, the crowd around me is so tightly packed that it seems like a barrier.

The lanterns on the bridge ascend gradually, reminiscent of a resplendent galaxy on the earth.

I try hard to find Victor’s figure, only to realize that his face is obscured in the dimming lights of the lanterns.

MC: Victor!

I shout loudly across the sea of people, as if trying to grab his attention. He turns his head slowly, but then a lantern happens to block his face.

The candlelight traces the lines of his contours on the fine material to create a shadow, gradually flying upwards.

At this moment, that face I couldn’t be more familiar with slowly becomes hazy in my eyes.

The strawberry ice cream, which has begun to melt, drips into my palm, feeling slightly sticky. I glance down and can’t help but frown.

The overwhelming joy in my heart instantly dissipates into a boundless sense of stillness.

Endless cheers and shouts are jumping around in my ears, but they seem to have nothing to do with me.

Why am I here? Am I here to see the lantern festival?

Feeling lost and confused, I blink my eyes in a daze.

It seems like something is disappearing little by little.

MC: …who is Victor?

The moonlight is misty, coating the lake’s surface with a cool temperature.

The joyous laughter creates ripples in the moonlight, while the lake quietly observes the hustle and bustle of the world.

The bridge is still bustling with crowds, packed and congested.

But amid the crowd, a person stands exceptionally tall and straight, and my gaze can’t help but be drawn to him.

The surrounding clusters of flames emit a bright glow, and the slowly rising lanterns encircle the man. It seems as if he is a god descending from the heavens.

He gazes at me quietly, his eyes churning with turbulent emotions that I’m unable to comprehend.

I seem to hear the frequency of his breathing and see the slightest movement of his Adam’s apple.

Victor: MC, remember to continue doing what you have to do.

MC: …do you know me?

MC: Who are you?

I feel that I should know him, yet for some reason, his name eludes me.

The call of his name is like a lump in my throat. No matter how hard I strain to pronounce it, I remain unable to do so.

I find myself instinctively moving forward. I don’t know why I’m insisting on moving forward, but every step I’m taking leads me closer to that person.

I feel as if something has been ruthlessly gouged out of my heart, violently tearing my soul apart. And then it has been scattered in pieces and concealed in the hubbub of time.

My breathing inexplicably becomes urgent, and I grasp at my chest, as if stopping my heartbeat at this moment could prevent everything from slipping away.

MC: Vi…ctor.

I don’t understand the meaning of these six letters, but I find myself simply murmuring them over and over again.

Seemingly hearing my voice, his lips twitch slightly, and he slowly pulls out a smile.

This smile is not pretty, and I have a feeling that I’ve seen this man smile even more beautifully before.

Victor: That’s fine.

Victor: I’ll leave now.

I don’t know why this man is saying this to me, but he shouldn’t leave first.

Because he has never left first before.

Dazedness and sourness flood my chest, yet I can only feel an inexplicable sense of bewilderment.

Bewildered because I clearly shouldn’t have any memory of this person.

MC: Wait… you––

The next second, the lanterns soar to their highest point, and the surging crowd completely submerges the person.

Dappled light and shadow fall into my eyes, and I stand rooted in place, staring blankly at the two ice creams in my hands.

The strawberry jam slowly trickles down the ice cream cone and drips into my hand as I tightly grasp the crispy outer shell.

I look at the lively atmosphere in front of me, where everyone has a smile on their face except for me. I feel at a loss and bewildered, like a child who has lost sight of their parents.

MC: I… why…

Why am I feeling anguish?

Isn’t today supposed to be the lantern festival? I even bought some ice cream there that was very hard to find.

But why did I buy two ice creams?

“If you can correctly guess the flavor of the ice creams I bought, I’ll share one with you.”

Out of nowhere, a sentence echoes in my mind. I instinctively try to listen carefully, hoping to discern the person I’m speaking to.

However, even after exerting some mental effort to remember, I can not conjure up any memory of the person’s appearance or voice.

I gaze blankly at the end of the bridge, finding myself incapable of moving forward.

I should continue to move forward. I should start walking.

But… someone was supposed to accompany me on this journey.

The noise around me continuously rises and falls, until there’s suddenly a loud noise––

The lanterns are scattered in all directions, while the fireworks ascend into the sky.

The dazzling fireworks illuminate the joyous faces of everyone.

Tears inexplicably keep streaming down my face in big drops, and I can’t help but lift my head and look around.

The falling fireworks are as gorgeous as the reminiscence of tears cascading down from the galaxy.

—

The moonlight shines on the messy straw hat, casting dappled shadows on the young and tender face peeking through the crack.

The young boy is wearing a brightly reflective sweatshirt that shimmers with white light, and he is holding a stream of sand in his hand. The fine sand gradually trickles through his palm, forming a tiny heap on the ground.

A broken hourglass lay among the heap of sand, with its sharp glass edges reflecting a cold and white glow.

Little Boy: Are you ready to bear the price?

─────

────────────────────────────────────────────────────────────

✧ [Conclusions] ✧

—

[mxiaogod]

— 06. [REVENDICAREA] GANYU X AFAB! FEM READER

Warnings : Top reader, use of dildo, heavy jealousy, overstimulation, NSFW (DNI IF YOU AREN'T 18+)

— You and your girlfriend Ganyu are currently seated at a dining table with her coworkers; it is the anniversary of the company Ganyu was working for as a secretary; you are very proud of her and her job; however, she is sometimes overworked, and you are concerned about her health because you rarely spend time together.

All was well until one of her coworkers opened their mouth to say something, "Hey Ganyu, what's up with you and Keqing huh?" they asked, a hint of teasing laced in their voice as their eyebrows wiggled, cooed, and whistled erupts around the room as your mouth parted in shock, you were here, her girlfriend, literally sitting in front of them and they had the audacity to disrespect you? You couldn't believe it was happening as hot, boiling rage raced through your veins, you were outraged to the point of scratching your palm till the skin thins, you had heard a few things about Keqing, that she was Ganyu's business wife or other nonsense that didn't sit well with you.

You were enraged as the mauve haired girl spoke, dabbing the table napkin on her lips as she gave your girlfriend a long stare, making Ganyu blush at the sudden attention, you watched the whole exchange happen, clenching your jaw before hearing Keqing clear her throat, "Oh that's nothing, right Ganyu? Besides, her little girlfriend is here, we wouldn't want to make a bad impression, do we?" she said, sizing you up as she chuckled under her breath, what a bitch.

You straightened your blazer as you pushed the chair back a little too loudly, drawing attention away from the love birds to you, Ganyu's eyes widened a little, shocked at your sudden outburst, you gave them a tight lipped smile, your lips stretching in an odd way as you struggle to give them kindness, "I apologize, may I be excused to the bathroom? I might have drunk too much refresher." You said, turning around before they could give you a response, You walk into the bathroom, slamming the door shut as you wash your face with cold water, presumably hoping you could wash away all your wrath and shame, but it appears that those nasty, melting sentiments wanted to remain your company.

You flinched, clenching your fists, as a cold hand touched your shoulders. You see Ganyu's pretty face laced with concern and regret, nipping at her lips as if she was waiting and wondering if you'd finally lose control, thinking your patience could only last so long with a girl like her, but you couldn't and wouldn't.

You wash your face again, running your hand through your hair as you take a tissue paper to wipe your face clean. "Pack your shit, we're going home," you said as you walked passed Ganyu, seeing her reflection in the mirror, doe eyes filling with fat tears as she chews down a sob, pressing both of her fists to her lips before scrambling away, gathering her belongings and waving farewell, your heart breaks at the sight, it hurts you seeing her hurt, but it's been long since you attempted to feel your own feelings rather than hers.

She makes her way to the car, where you where waiting, finger anxiously drumming against the steering wheel, oh how you couldn't wait to go home, to punish her, claim her, Revendicarea.

She sits at the shotgun seat, both of her hands clenched together and put between her knees, her eyes concentrated as she didn't want to aggravate you any more, her chubby cheeks becoming even more as she tried to make her light blue turtle neck swallow her frame, she was so difficult to resist, so fucking difficult. you weren't really upset at her, you were much more angry with her coworkers than with your love.

You come home, getting a bottle of cool water from the fridge as you lean against the counter, removing your jacket, leaving you in your bra, when you notice your girlfriend approaching you, a heavy blush on her cheeks and her eyes sparkling with the unknown.

She stutters, before biting her lip and putting her hands behind her back, "I- I'm really sorry I didn't think they'd act that way-" You stared at her, your eyes dimming, jaw clenching as you grab her face, lips crashing together feverously, swiping your tongue against her bottom lip, she widens her mouth even more as she closes her eyes, your tongue exploring every crevice of her mouth, desperately wanting to taste her, to assure that she was still yours.

"You want to make it up to me huh? slut? you know what to do don't you? you want to be my good girl again? work for it." You said, gripping her hair as her eyebrows knot together, eyes filled with tears as she nods and heaves, every deep breath sending pleasure down her stomach to her cute little cunt.

"You're turned on by this? about me being jealous? have you taken a liking to me being furious?" You mutter harshly beside her face as her lips settle into a pout, before muttering a high pitched "No! I'll be good please, I promise I'll be a good girl-" You let go of her, allowing her to prepare, she knew what to do, she was your good girl before after all.

You watch as she makes her way upstairs to your shared bedroom, moving like a pathetic cum slut that wanted sex so bad, her alluring face looks so innocent but on the inside, she's just a cute little dirty girl that wants your dick every fucking time.

You let her do her good girl duties as you finish the bottle of water, flexing your tensed muscles as you make your way upstairs, purposely making the thump of your feet louder so she could hear it, as expected, you see your dirty girl on the bed, her pretty pink nipples perked up, back against the pillows as she uses her arms to raise her thighs, giving you a clear view of her glistening pussy, you walk towards her, the writings on her body becoming more evident, written in eyeliner was "Daddy's good girl", an arrow from her pussy to her thighs saying "Cum dump", a sly grin settled in your lips as you walk in front of her, Ganyu turning her head to the side, her cheeks with a heavy blush and a humiliated look on her face.

"Look at you, working so hard to be my good girl again, you want it so bad? you want daddy to like you again?" You coaxed as she nods her head frantically, a desperate look on her pretty eyes.

"Well too bad I don't like you anymore." You said malevolently, making your pretty baby cry fat tears down her cheeks, as a sob broke out her plump lips, "Why are you being so mean to me?" She questions, still sobbing but not letting her thighs go.

"Oh, look at you, you think I'm mean? whore I haven't even started yet." You said, as you moved closer towards her, grabbing her jaw and opening her mouth, " Stick your tongue out." You command firmly as Ganyu obeys, sticking her wet sticky tounge, rimmed with saliva, you run your thumb against her lips, collecting her saliva as you grab the eyeliner she used on the bedside table.

You place your thumb on the cute roll on her stomach where "Daddy's good girl" was written, smudging and crossing out the "good" as you write out another word, turning the filthy sentence into "Daddy's bad girl", "There there, don't you think that's a little more fitting? especially for a slut like you." You said, as her sobbing increased and her cunt drooling so much, you lean against her, wiping her tears, giving her faux affection, "Oh come on princess, don't cry." You said as she heaves in her futile attempt to catch her breath, she managed to stop the tears before you landed a harsh slap on her pussy.

She shouts, the high pitch tone placing a smile on your lips, "nghh- It hurts! m' pussy hurts, please!" She begs, as you land another slap on her thighs when she closes her legs, "Open." You command, the one word sending chills through her spine as she opens her legs once more, the slick arousal webbing against her plush thighs, she really is a dirty, filthy girl,

your dirty, filthy girl.

You run your thumb across her clit lazily as she jolts, her ample tits bouncing as she does so, you circle your thumb, agonizingly slow, making Ganyu release small breaths as her chest moves up and down, pushing her hips in for more friction as you land multiple slaps to her dirty cunt, making sure to target her swollen clit as her wetness splash everywhere, she gives you a loud whine, as tears flow down her reddened cheeks once more.

"Look at you Ganyu, whining like a bitch in heat, tell me what do you want?" You ask, a look of confusion settles in her face as she thinks your being a tad bit nice to her, she responds hoarsely, her throat scratched from her pathetic whining earlier, "wan' your dick inside me s' bad, please!" Ganyu whines pathetically as she grinds her swollen, spent cunt against air.

You chuckle at her desperation before nodding, grabbing your 9 inch strap as she gets on all fours like the good girl she is, but you didn't tell her that.

You grabbed her love handles as you vehemently rammed into her dirty cunt, her slick making it easy for you to enter swiftly, you pound into her as she cries and moans, "Feels.s'.good!" she says as she attempt to speak along with your futile thrusts, you arch her back, her plump ass raised high in the air as your thumb traces her stretch marks, looking at them made your pussy ache.

You bite your lip as you give her back shots, fucking her limp, she squeals as she feels her orgasm coming, reaching behind and pushing your pelvis in attempt to get you off her, but you tightened your grip on her sexy fucking hips as you thrust harder, the tip of your cock hitting her cervix, you look at Ganyu with half lidded eyes to see her trashing around in attempt to stop you, "stop! stop! please- ugh! feel s' good! mmh-!" she whines between heavy breaths, "Say the safe word ganyu." You mutter, as her cum rings on your strap, her head shaking as she signals you no, she won't say it.

You pull out of her, she groans at the lost of contact as you flip her onto your back, pushing her legs back to her chest as you push in her cunt, making her bite her lip and her eyes roll back, mouth shaped into "o" as she struggles to produce any sound, you bounce her on you, grabbing her nipples for further stimulations.

You kept trusting as you feel her shake so much as she pulls herself off, moaning so loudly and babbling like a dumb baby while drool runs on the side of her mouth, she lays sideways as she clenches her thighs, being so overstimulated as you fucked her stupid, struggling to form coherent sentences, she clenches her body, grinding her thighs together as she shakes, you give her a chuckle as you enter her once again, fucking her side ways, her mouth parted open as her tongue darts out to her lips, eyes rolling back in pleasure.

She comes once, and then another one and then one after another until she couldn't think straight anymore, pulling her hips up as you grind her back, you were sure your hand prints are gonna bruise tommorow.

"Shh, no running away, take it, take my cock like a good girl, so I can like you again, hmm?" You say as she nods her head.

She takes your strap like the good girl she is, you thrust faster as you feel your hips cramp, she claws your arm as her legs tremble and then she squirts on your stomach.

"Oh! I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to do that, I don't know what that is!-" You interrupt her as you feel your slick drip down your thighs, god that was so fucking hot.

"Do that again, on my face, sit on my face." You ordered, hesitance evident in her face, "Ganyu you're not gonna fucking suffocate me, sit on my fucking face." You said as she scrambles, sitting up as you lay on your back, she hovers over you as you trace circles on your clit, and one hand locking her thighs down, pushing her weight onto your face, she throws her head back, releasing a loud moan as you lap at her cunt, flicking on her swollen bud as she grinds on your face.

You place two fingers in her cunt, using your own slick as lubricant, as you hit her g spot repeatedly, tongue lapping on her clit as you feel her insides clench and squirts on your face.

"Fuck baby, such a good girl doing so good for me huh? Such a good princess you are." You coo as she slumps down the headboard, you sit up, making her sit on your stomach as you hug her, cradling her face into your neck before giving her kisses, and cuddles before you initiate a bath together.

You both get ready for the night, laying down in bed while Ganyu is sprawled out on your body, hugging her close. You kiss every part of her body, to her stomach and wide hips that makes your knees buckle and your mind run wild as you whisper against her pale, smooth skin,

"Mine, mine, mine, all mine."