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perhaps-in-anotherdream · 11 months

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[CN] Victor’s Mind Quest: Melding Into You (Eng Translation)

⌚Warning⌚ This post contains detailed spoilers for a mind quest, 纵融流入你, that is yet to be released on the global server! ♡

[Additional warning]: Same old warning LOL. Considering the super vivid explicitness, if you don’t qualify for the 17+ rating of the game (CN server), it’s very highly recommended that you don’t proceed under the cut~ :>

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【Subbed Video】

[Heads-up]: Yes, read the transcript for reading, of course! But for the life of me, PLEASE DO WATCH THE VIDEO!! YOU DO NOT WANNA MISS WU LEI’S GODLY VOICE ACTING AND THOSE CLOSE-UPS AKSJSJSDGFG (+ excuse my real-time reactions 🤪😂)

youtube

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【Transcript Version】

【Chapter 1】

With every breath, the air is saturated with the briny smell of seawater. The sun is beaming so brilliantly that it appears almost white, reminiscent of a melted silver sphere.

The scorching sand sears through the soles of my shoes, grilling the bottoms of my feet. The water within my body evaporates continuously as sweat trickles down.

MC: Ngh… Victor…

Lacking strength, I weakly tug at the hem of his shirt, and my hand naturally reaches into the backpack, retrieving the item I need.

MC: Ah… we’re about to run out of this last bottle of water too.

I hold the remaining half-filled bottle of mineral water against my ear and give it a shake, attempting to quench my thirst by listening to the sound of water.

MC: I feel like I’m being roasted from head to toe…

V̲i̲c̲t̲o̲r̲ ̲s̲h̲i̲f̲t̲s̲ ̲h̲i̲s̲ ̲p̲o̲s̲i̲t̲i̲o̲n̲ ̲a̲n̲d̲ ̲s̲t̲a̲n̲d̲s̲ ̲i̲n̲ ̲f̲r̲o̲n̲t̲ ̲o̲f̲ ̲m̲e̲ ̲a̲t̲ ̲a̲ ̲d̲i̲f̲f̲e̲r̲e̲n̲t̲ ̲a̲n̲g̲l̲e̲,̲ ̲a̲l̲i̲g̲n̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲h̲i̲m̲s̲e̲l̲f̲ ̲a̲t̲ ̲j̲u̲s̲t̲ ̲t̲h̲e̲ ̲r̲i̲g̲h̲t̲ ̲t̲u̲r̲n̲ ̲s̲o̲ ̲h̲i̲s̲ ̲s̲h̲a̲d̲o̲w̲ ̲s̲h̲i̲e̲l̲d̲s̲ ̲m̲e̲ ̲f̲r̲o̲m̲ ̲t̲h̲e̲ ̲s̲c̲o̲r̲c̲h̲i̲n̲g̲ ̲s̲u̲n̲.̲

Victor: Let’s take a break if you’re tired.

I shake my head, gazing at the beach with endless waves in the distance and our private yacht stranded on the shore. It still feels unbelievable to me.

Who could have imagined it would turn out like this before we set off?

Recently, the several new projects Victor has been working on have been progressing steadily. And I have also finally managed to carve out some time for a vacation.

Thereupon, we hopped onto Victor’s private boat and set sail, fully prepared for a delightful voyage at sea.

However, the navigation system suddenly failed when we were out at sea, leaving us without any means to find our way back to shore, and eventually, we ran out of fuel.

We drifted at the mercy of the waves for over ten hours at sea before finally making landfall on this unnamed island with no signal. And now, we are on the verge of running out of resources.

Victor sighs and reaches out, placing his hand on my forehead and the nape of my neck while I’m lost in thought.

Victor: Your body temperature is still normal. It doesn’t seem like you’ve got a heatstroke.

H͟e͟ u͟n͟s͟c͟r͟e͟w͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ b͟o͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟o͟u͟r͟s͟ o͟u͟t͟ a͟b͟o͟u͟t͟ h͟a͟l͟f͟ a͟ c͟a͟p͟f͟u͟l͟ o͟f͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟. T͟h͟e͟n͟, h͟e͟ d͟i͟p͟s͟ h͟i͟s͟ f͟i͟n͟g͟e͟r͟t͟i͟p͟ i͟n͟t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟r͟e͟s͟s͟e͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ m͟o͟i͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ a͟g͟a͟i͟n͟s͟t͟ m͟y͟ p͟a͟r͟c͟h͟e͟d͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟.

As my lips become moist and cool, I can’t help but rub my lips against his fingertips. At this moment, looking up, I find that his own lips are also slightly chapped.

Victor: Where has your imagination run off to again?

Looking at his fatigued yet still unwavering expression, I find myself unable to utter a single despondent phrase like “We’re doomed” or “What are we going to do?”

I͟ s͟i͟m͟p͟l͟y͟ c͟u͟r͟v͟e͟ m͟y͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟ u͟p͟w͟a͟r͟d͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ m͟o͟i͟s͟t͟e͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟, m͟i͟r͟r͟o͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ h͟i͟s͟ g͟e͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ j͟u͟s͟t͟ n͟o͟w͟.

MC: I’m just thinking, CEO Victor is always so thoughtful in moments like this.

Victor doesn’t expose my thoughts. Instead, he simply takes my hand and guides me in a different direction, heading straight for the lush forest at the heart of the island.

We savor a brief moment of relief, cooling ourselves off beneath the shades of the trees before Victor opens his mouth unhurriedly.

Victor: The coastal area we passed by appears deserted and untouched for a long time. Instead of trying our luck under the blazing sun, it’s wiser to change our route.

MC: What makes you so sure?

Victor: In the spot where our boat got stranded, there were long discarded fishing nets underwater. Judging by the level of corrosion, they must have been there for at least three to five years.

Victor: Since we can’t be certain that help will be available, we need to move towards a location abundant in resources.

Victor: In areas filled with vegetation, even if we run out of fresh drinking water, we can still resort to extracting water from the soil layer.

Victor: The emergency food in our bag is sufficient to sustain us for half a month, and that should provide ample time for the insurance company to locate us.

As always, he calmly assesses the situation, and his confident tone sparks courage within me.

MC: Makes sense! I now feel like I was really being carried away earlier, thinking that we were about to dominate the headlines of next week’s news.

MC: Something like, “The CEO of LFG and his girlfriend have been missing since their trip at sea, suspected to have been killed on an unnamed island”...

Victor glances at me with a helpless yet amused expression.

Victor: You have the energy to crack jokes now. Seems like you’ve had a good rest?

Taking a deep breath, I muster all the strength I have left within me and tightly grip back onto his hand.

MC: Hmm! Let’s go! Let’s set off!

—

As we go deeper into the woods, the terrain grows steeper. After walking for more than ten minutes, we’ve arrived at the highest point of this small hill.

I involuntarily find myself stopping in my tracks, my eyes widening.

MC: …Victor, look!

Clusters of cottages dot the landscape along the paved road, nestled at the foot of the hills. The lush greenery of the island encircles them, akin to pearls embraced by green velvet.

Smoke rises from the kitchen chimneys of some houses, and clean laundry hangs in the front and back of the yards. Down by the seaside, freshly caught seafood is being sun-dried.

After being away from any signs of human habitation, I finally lay my eyes on the sparkling radiance of human civilization once again.

I can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief, and from the corner of my eye, I see that Victor’s previously slightly tensed jaw has also relaxed.

Our footsteps can’t help but quicken, and we hurry towards the seaside village.

—

Fifteen minutes later. We find ourselves seated on the cool, wide wooden chairs in the courtyard of the village chief's house, drinking water from enamel cups in big gulps.

The village chief listens to our experiences and nods understandingly.

Village Chief: Don’t blame yourselves. It was just a stroke of bad luck that you happened to be caught up in it.

Village Chief: Even we old fishermen didn’t anticipate that this magnetic storm would have an impact on our coastal waters.

During the conversation, we learn that the name of this island is White Pearl Island, and the villagers here make a living through pearl farming.

As Victor had surmised before, the western coast where we made landfall had only been used as a fishing ground about a decade ago.

As time went on, the village prospered through pearl farming, and the villagers abandoned the fishing grounds to develop and operate pearl harvesting sites in the eastern coastal area.

While the village chief briefly steps away, Victor leans against the door with his arms crossed, appearing as composed as if he were standing in his own office.

Victor: What’s on your mind?

MC: I’m thinking, this place is so serene, untouched by excessive development. It’s perfectly suited for a sojourn.

MC: And who knows, I might even have the chance to enjoy a sumptuous seafood feast prepared by CEO Victor using fresh fish and shrimp!

A smile tugs at the corners of Victor’s lips as he pinches my cheek.

Victor: Always thinking about food.

Victor: Although, if a certain someone wants a peaceful vacation without any disruptions, this place certainly meets your criteria.

MC: I’m very satisfied, but I wonder if CEO Victor will be able to adapt?

I͟ a͟r͟c͟h͟ a͟n͟ e͟y͟e͟b͟r͟o͟w͟ a͟s͟ I͟ l͟o͟o͟k͟ a͟t͟ h͟i͟m͟. V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ b͟e͟n͟d͟s͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ a͟n͟d͟ u͟n͟t͟a͟n͟g͟l͟e͟s͟ a͟ f͟e͟w͟ s͟t͟r͟a͟n͟d͟s͟ o͟f͟ m͟y͟ l͟o͟n͟g͟, s͟w͟e͟a͟t͟-s͟o͟a͟k͟e͟d͟, k͟n͟o͟t͟t͟e͟d͟ h͟a͟i͟r͟, a͟ s͟m͟i͟l͟e͟ f͟o͟r͟m͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟.

Victor: Why would I want to pass up the opportunity to reside in this “Seaside Utopia”?

—

Beneath the setting sun, Victor and I find ourselves standing at the entrance of a run-down health center.

The rosy golden light casts upon the shabby outer walls and stairway marred by dust, serving as a declaration of the antiquated and abandoned state of this place.

I wrap my arm around Victor’s and give him a wink.

MC: Although there isn’t a proper inn in the village, the village chief’s recommendation is not bad.

MC: For a village without a tourism industry, the living conditions here are much better than I imagined.

Victor: I see, so I wonder who was murmuring about being stranded on a deserted island earlier, and now in the blink of an eye, she can just “go with the flow”?

MC: It’s true that I’m not adept at survival on a deserted island... but I definitely excel at turning a place into a warm and cozy little home.

With his eyes on me, Victor’s lips form into a smile, warm like the hues of the sunset glow.

Victor: Well, I’m looking forward to seeing your performance.

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【Chapter 2】

The moment the rusty key turns the lock and the door opens, a stream of sunlight floods through the crack, illuminating the billowing dust.

MC: Cough, cough, cough–– so dusty––

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ c͟o͟v͟e͟r͟s͟ m͟y͟ n͟o͟s͟e͟ a͟n͟d͟ m͟o͟u͟t͟h͟, p͟u͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟ b͟e͟h͟i͟n͟d͟ h͟i͟m͟. I͟ s͟q͟u͟e͟e͟z͟e͟ p͟a͟s͟t͟ a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟s͟t͟ m͟y͟ h͟e͟a͟d͟ o͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ s͟h͟o͟u͟l͟d͟e͟r͟, p͟e͟e͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ i͟n͟.

…it appears that the deserted state of this village health center exceeds my imagination.

The unattended floor, constantly exposed to heat and humidity, is covered in a layer of mold and dust. Each step on it produces a creaking sound. I try turning on the incandescent bulb, but it doesn’t light up.

There are even more “surprises” awaiting us as we step inside. The water in the toilet tank fills up slowly, and it makes a gurgling noise when flushed. The window glass is cracked, resembling a spider’s web.

The sole good news is that the signal of the landline phone at the health center is quite stable. Using his phone’s contact list, Victor dials the insurance company.

They inform us that they will come to rescue us and the boat once the seafaring is no longer affected. At that time, they will contact this phone number again.

As Victor wraps up the phone call, I have already prepared the cleaning tools and solemnly hand him a mask.

MC: Comrade Victor, it seems that our transformation task is very demanding!

Casting a brief glance my way, Victor rolls up his sleeves and takes out a screwdriver from the toolbox.

Victor: Does it scare you?

MC: Absolutely not! With the hardworking and wise CEO Victor at my side, why would I be scared?

MC: Let’s get to work!

As I go from scrubbing the floor to changing bed sheets and pillowcases, I gradually feel like I have turned into a cleaning robot.

In the meantime, Victor takes apart the light bulbs and rewires the filaments, restores the pieces of furniture that are still usable, and even goes through the process of repairing the electrical circuitry in the house.

By the time we’ve finally renovated the health center to a state that people can actually live in, the setting sun outside the window has long dipped below the sea surface.

As I lean back and topple onto the one-person hospital bed, to my surprise, I immediately hear an ominous creaking sound coming from beneath me.

Before I can react, the wheels at the bottom of the begin to roll, causing both the bed and me lying on it to move backward––

MC: ?!

A hand grabs onto the bed rail at its head, forcing it to a stop. As I lift my head, true to my expectations, I am met with the sight of a Victor with knitted brows.

Victor: …

MC: …ahem, this bed is surprisingly fun. CEO Victor, would you like to give it a try?

Victor: Indeed, it’s quite entertaining. Maybe I should build a track for you, and I bet a certain someone can ride the bed from the health center all the way to the sea.

I make a face at him and bend down to close the valve next to the wheels. Then, Victor and I each lay down on our respective beds.

After a long period of hustle and fatigue, we certainly both are in need of a thorough rest.

I nestle under the makeshift bedsheet that serves as a thin blanket, almost wishing to never wake up once I fall asleep. However, as soon as I close my eyes, the sound of rain reaches my ears from outside.

The torrential raindrops relentlessly pound against the roof tiles and awning, creating the reminiscence of war drums on a summer island beating against me.

My sleepiness is entirely vanquished by the joint assault of rainwater and roof tiles, ultimately leading to a complete and utter defeat.

In a daze, I open my eyes and habitually reach for my phone tucked under the pillow. It’s already 2 a.m.

Since I don’t have any sleepiness anyway, I simply decide to hold onto my phone, which has no signal or internet, and start flipping through my photo album.

From the sights we’ve shared together, to the fine delicacies cooked by Victor, and onto the little animals gravitating around him…

I find myself being so enthralled as I delve into the photos that I have completely forgotten about my insomnia. Whenever I come across something interesting, I excitedly turn over and delve deeper.

At this moment, the bed beside me makes a creaking sound. And with the dim light of my phone, I see Victor sitting up.

MC: Huh, you’re still not asleep?

Victor: I’m not so dull that I won’t be able to hear the sound of a certain someone tossing and turning.

Victor walks over and sits at the edge of my little bed.

Victor: I’m not feeling sleepy yet. I’ll keep you company for a bit.

As the screen of the idle phone gradually dims, fading into a dark and somber hue, Victor’s outline also slowly dissolves into obscurity.

Amid the darkness, just as I shift slightly to the side, his warmth instantly draws closer.

His long, slender, and toned body presses against mine, as Victor leans against the edge of the bed, squeezing into the cramped space of the tiny bed with me.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Haha, I love how MC calls the bed “小小床” (xiao xiao chuang), really emphasizing how small it really is LOL *cries in their inability to sleep a single night apart* 🥺

–

The bed creaks under the weight, apparently struggling to bear our combined load. His arm comes around me, embracing my back.

Victor: Why are you still not sleeping?

MC: [coquettishly] It’s my first time spending the night in a health center, so I’ve not adapted to it yet. And the sound of the rain on the roof is so noisy!

MC: I feel like I need someone to coax me to sleep~

Victor’s arm clasps me deeper into him, letting my face rest snugly against his chest.

Victor: Dummy…

Victor: If the sound of the rain is bothersome, just listen to my breathing. Don’t let your mind wander anywhere else.

In the dimness of the night, I can clearly hear his breathing. It sets off an uneven and erratic rhythm in my heart.

He is so close… so close.

The proximity is such that even the slightest movement causes our skin to graze against each other, sending tingles of sensation through me. It’s so close that his lips, when opening and closing, brush against my ear from time to time.

I try not to let my imagination run wild, but I feel that tingling sensation from my ear spreading to my cheeks.

Victor gently pats my back, and t͟h͟e͟ s͟o͟u͟n͟d͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ v͟o͟i͟c͟e͟ c͟a͟s͟c͟a͟d͟e͟s͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ u͟p͟o͟n͟ m͟e͟ l͟i͟k͟e͟ d͟r͟i͟f͟t͟i͟n͟g͟ d͟a͟n͟d͟e͟l͟i͟o͟n͟s͟, bringing with it a soft and tingling sensation.

Victor: Is this method not effective?

MC: It’s very effective. I’m already feeling more relaxed.

Victor: So why are you staring with your eyes wide open instead of sleeping? What mischievous thoughts are you up to?

MC: It’s not that easy to fall asleep, okay… How about we play a little bedtime game?

Victor: …insatiable.

The freshly dried quilt cover has no trace of detergent scent, allowing Victor’s warm breath to permeate through it––

Akin to a tiny hook, it entices me to draw closer, pressing myself against him.

MC: Or else, let me just soak up some of that “Victor energy.”

With these words, I extend my hand under the covers and wrap my arms around him, simultaneously tilting my head up and nuzzling my cheek against his chin.

Victor allows me to s͟h͟o͟w͟e͟r͟ h͟i͟m͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ g͟e͟n͟t͟l͟e͟ r͟u͟b͟s͟, until the sleep bugs slowly cast a veil of moist and warm haze before my eyes.

I close my eyes and curl up against his chest, longingly and fondly.

Victor: Sleepy?

I initially wanted to deny it, but a sly idea sparks in my mind, and I pretend to be drowsy as I reply.

MC: Mhm… a little…

With my eyes closed, I snuggle closer and plant a kiss on the nape of his neck before nestling my head back down, pretending to be in a sleepy state.

Victor: …but I’m not sleepy anymore.

I hear Victor take a deep breath, somewhat helplessly brushing away the stray strands of hair from my face.

Following this, a soft and warm touch falls at the corner of my lips.

MC: [blushing] Ngh…

Pretending to be drowsy, I tilt my head slightly, positioning myself so his kiss lands precisely on my lips.

Victor: …

His breath falters momentarily, then transforms into a knowing and husky exhale.

Victor: Your acting isn’t bad.

The softness on my lips slightly intensifies, prying open the space between my teeth and transmitting a dry and warm heat.

I͟ f͟e͟e͟l͟ a͟s͟ i͟f͟ V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ h͟a͟s͟ p͟e͟e͟l͟e͟d͟ o͟f͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟h͟i͟n͟ l͟a͟y͟e͟r͟ o͟f͟ t͟u͟l͟l͟e͟, opening my moist eyes and crashing into his intent gaze on me. I deliberately pout my lips at him.

MC: [blushing] What do you mean… where was I acting…

Victor: Hmm, so you were not acting? Were you playing, then?

Knowing his intentions, I press myself closer to him, lovingly using my lips to lightly brush against the corner of his mouth.

MC: I thought… the game had already begun.

Victor lets out a knowing smile. Following this, h͟e͟ b͟e͟n͟d͟s͟ h͟i͟s͟ h͟e͟a͟d͟ s͟l͟i͟g͟h͟t͟l͟y͟ a͟n͟d͟ p͟l͟a͟n͟t͟s͟ a͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ o͟f͟ p͟r͟e͟d͟a͟t͟o͟r͟y͟ p͟a͟i͟n͟ o͟n͟ m͟y͟ c͟h͟e͟s͟t͟.

Victor: That’s true.

Victor: This game will continue for a long time, and…

His voice is so irresistibly alluring to me that I͟ c͟a͟n͟’t͟ h͟e͟l͟p͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟ f͟r͟o͟m͟ c͟l͟i͟m͟b͟i͟n͟g͟ u͟p͟ a͟n͟d͟ f͟i͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ e͟v͟e͟r͟y͟ r͟e͟m͟a͟i͟n͟i͟n͟g͟ c͟r͟e͟v͟i͟c͟e͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟.

MC: [blushing] And what?

Victor: When it ends is up to me to decide.

—

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【Chapter 3】

[Anika’s Notes]: Yeah, mark the euphemism in MC’s very first monologue here, and you’ll see what she really meant later on LMAO 🤪

–

C͟o͟n͟s͟i͟d͟e͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ i͟n͟t͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ r͟a͟i͟n͟f͟a͟l͟l͟ w͟e͟ h͟a͟d͟ l͟a͟s͟t͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟, I͟ i͟n͟i͟t͟i͟a͟l͟l͟y͟ t͟h͟o͟u͟g͟h͟t͟ t͟h͟a͟t͟ t͟o͟d͟a͟y͟ w͟o͟u͟l͟d͟ b͟e͟ a͟ l͟i͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ c͟o͟o͟l͟e͟r͟.

Much to my surprise, even at noon, the sizzling hot and humid summer air persists over the sea surface.

Sitting at the edge of the deck, I hold a glass of chilled water and dip my feet into the seawater. The refreshing contrast in temperature compels me to sigh contentedly.

MC: Ha–– sure enough, being on the sea surface is the coziest thing during summer.

This morning, Victor requested the village chief for help in refueling our boat. After that, we sailed the boat to the coastal waters from where we could see the village.

MC: [musing to herself] The sea, the fishing village, the sunshine… it would be even better if Victor were here.

Victor: I’ve only been in the water for ten minutes, and a certain someone already couldn’t wait any longer?

Just as I m͟u͟r͟m͟u͟r͟ h͟i͟s͟ n͟a͟m͟e͟ t͟o͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟, a spray of water blooms at my feet–– and there is Victor, floating up.

He takes off his diving cap and slicks back his damp hair. His entire being exudes a nonchalant charm.

A touch of a smile plays at the corner of his lips, r͟e͟m͟i͟n͟i͟s͟c͟e͟n͟t͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ b͟r͟e͟a͟k͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟f͟ d͟a͟w͟n͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟a͟’s͟ h͟o͟r͟i͟z͟o͟n͟, making me unable to help myself from squinting my eyes and fixing my gaze upon him.

Beads of seawater coalesce into droplets on his handsome cheeks, reflecting the dazzling sunlight and shimmering gorgeously.

MC: Isn’t it because I want to share the scenery above the sea surface with you?

MC: What was it like on your end? Is the underwater scenery here beautiful?

Victor: It’s alright. The water isn’t as crystal clear as in tourist spots, but there are plenty of shells being cultivated by pearl farmers underwater.

He leverages his body onto the boat and sits down beside me.

Victor: Once you finish enjoying your luxurious iced water, let’s go together to collect shells underwater.

MC: Huh? It wouldn’t be appropriate to collect someone else’s shells without permission…

Victor: You dummy, I’ve already talked to the village chief about it.

Victor: We accidentally ended up on this White Pearl Island. If you don’t participate in the “unique activities” that you like, would you be willing to return?

MC: You’re right. Then I should hurry and get in the water before it gets too hot!

I down the water in one gulp and bring the diving suit over, getting ready to change into it.

Victor: And this one, too. Don’t forget about it.

Victor reaches out and picks up the goggles that are set aside, but as he hands them to me, his eyebrows involuntarily knit together for a moment.

MC: What’s wrong? Are you feeling uncomfortable somewhere?

Victor: It’s probably because my back got scraped when I was under the water. It hurts a little.

MC: Huh? Why didn’t you say anything earlier? Show it to me, quick!

–

I promptly ask Victor to take off his diving suit and carefully examine him from all sides, finding large patches of dark red sunburn marks scattered all over his body.

MC: And you always call me a dummy? How could you be so careless? It’s not a scrape; it’s sunburn!

Victor: …

A rarely-seen expression of embarrassment appears on Victor’s face, but he swiftly regains his usual composure.

Victor: …I’m not such a dummy that I’d forget to put on sunscreen. It’s probably that the magnetic storm is affecting the UV rays, so the sun is stronger than usual.

MC: Humph, sophistry. Luckily, I brought some medication. You wait here!

As I speak, I squeeze out an amount of ointment and rub it onto a patch of red mark on Victor’s body, using my fingertip to spread it in circular motions.

MC: [affectionately] If not treated promptly, sunburns can leave lasting marks. You have to wait for the cream to be fully absorbed like this.

MC: [affectionate business-like tone] CEO Victor did not take sun protection seriously this time. You must remember my notes properly.

Victor: Do you usually use this tone when giving feedback to your employees?

MC: I certainly do not. I’m just like you. This “small stove with a gentle fire” approach is reserved only for you.

—

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is 温火小灶 (wen huo xiao zao). It’s an idiomatic phrase used to describe a situation where someone is receiving preferential treatment or special privileges– the kind of partiality or preference you naturally tend to have for someone you love/ care for. I decided to do the literal translation here instead of a sophisticated one because of the innuendo later, haha~ 🤪

—

Due to Victor’s resolve to work out all year round, every muscle on his body has reached its prime condition. His skin is toned, and it’s silky smooth to the touch.

The red sunburn marks on his skin now have created the resemblance to a piece of white satin fabric being dyed red.

I can’t help but apply the cream with even gentler movements, massaging along the curves of his muscles to minimize any pain caused by the rubbing of the medication.

Victor breathes in gently as his muscles tense in response to the touch of my wandering fingertips, their texture moist and supple.

His skin already has a faint reddish tint due to sun exposure, but after applying the cream, it takes on a radiant sheen under the light, tempting me to keep touching further.

A hot and humid air lingers between us, perhaps causing some slight tingling sensation. His breathing seems slightly constricted.

Victor: …that’s enough.

MC: No, it’s not! I’ve only applied the ointment to one spot; I need to treat the other parts properly as well!

With a deadpan tone, I make him pull down the diving suit from his chest, revealing his neck and chest, which now have a reddish hue from the sunburn.

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Before we get into it, LMAO, I swear MC’s fetish for Victor’s Adam’s apple (and especially knowing he’s sensitive there), every freaking time, is something else entirely 😂

–

There is a slight redness at his Adam’s apple. And watching his subtle resistance, a wicked idea arises within me.

As I reach out and apply the ointment with my hand, my fingertips gently caress his Adam’s apple at the same time.

Victor’s Adam’s apple quivers slightly, and a raspy moan he’s unable to hold in escapes through his teeth.

Victor: Trying to mess around again?

Victor seizes my mischievous hand and runs his curled finger pad over my fingertips, silently questioning me with his eyes.

MC: [blushing] No, I just thought that it would make you more comfortable this way.

I shamelessly make up a twisted excuse, but Victor narrows his eyes and studies me for a moment. Then suddenly, he curves his lips into a smile and clasps my hand, bringing it to his chest and caressing it.

MC: [blushing] !!

The unforeseen sensation of smooth touch seeps into my hand, carrying the fiery heat that uniquely belongs to summer. I can’t help but let out a small gasp of surprise.

Victor: This way, I’ll be more comfortable.

MC: [blushing] But…

Victor: Are you planning to treat different parts in different ways?

Victor narrows his eyes slightly, and his deep gaze carries an air of someone in complete control. My competitive spirit can’t help but surge.

MC: [blushing] N-no, I won’t. I’ll make sure to carefully and thoroughly smear it onto every single part.

Taking the initiative, my fingertips spontaneously roam across his chest. And as the cream gradually melts with the warmth of his body, it becomes slightly sticky.

MC: [blushing] Stop fidgeting. The cream is all over me now… it’s so sticky…

T͟h͟e͟ s͟a͟l͟t͟y͟ a͟r͟o͟m͟a͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟a͟ p͟e͟r͟m͟e͟a͟t͟e͟s͟ t͟h͟e͟ k͟i͟s͟s͟e͟s͟, a͟n͟d͟ I͟ m͟u͟r͟m͟u͟r͟ i͟n͟c͟o͟h͟e͟r͟e͟n͟t͟l͟y͟.

Victor: All I can say is that… a certain dummy is just as careless.

Victor’s eyes are reminiscent of ocean waves beneath the blazing sun, passionately and fiercely locked onto me.

Victor: If it gets rubbed onto you, just let it be so.

Victor: Since the “small stove with a gentle fire” approach is reserved only for me, I’m sure the Big Producer won’t mind going through the process again later.

The sunlight brings waves of heat onto the deck, while the tide continues to swell, lifting the boat higher and higher.

The boat glides like a nimble fish, swaying its body amidst the splashes of white foam created by the churning waves and producing the sound of crashing water.

Ripples spread out in circles, gradually expanding across the surface of the sea.

—

[Anika’s Notes]: LMAO the water euphemisms, no wonder Victor’s key word was “Moist.” Also, their energy LOL. Last night was gentle “love making” ft. biting on MC’s nips, among other things, and the next day was rough fcking ft. givin’ him head, among other things 🤪

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 4】

[Anika’s Notes]: Mark the very first monologue here, too, cause the euphemism will be given the explicit visual later on LOL~ 🤪

—

T͟h͟e͟r͟e͟’s͟ b͟e͟e͟n͟ f͟r͟e͟q͟u͟e͟n͟t͟ r͟a͟i͟n͟f͟a͟l͟l͟ d͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ d͟a͟y͟ a͟n͟d͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟ o͟n͟ W͟h͟i͟t͟e͟ P͟e͟a͟r͟l͟ I͟s͟l͟a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟c͟e͟n͟t͟l͟y͟. A͟n͟d͟ f͟o͟r͟ s͟e͟v͟e͟r͟a͟l͟ c͟o͟n͟s͟e͟c͟u͟t͟i͟v͟e͟ d͟a͟y͟s͟, i͟t͟’s͟ b͟e͟e͟n͟ p͟o͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ h͟e͟a͟v͟i͟l͟y͟ d͟u͟r͟i͟n͟g͟ t͟h͟e͟ n͟i͟g͟h͟t͟t͟i͟m͟e͟.

The rain at night, complemented by the sea breeze, is extraordinarily tranquil. And during these sleepless nights, Victor and I find ourselves engrossed in lengthy conversations, naturally resulting in us sleeping until noon.

…well, to be more accurate, I’m the one primarily responsible for letting nature take its course and dawdling in bed.

On occasions, by the time I wake up, Victor is already fully prepared and informs me about the plans for the new day.

Sometimes, we would dive into the water and swim under the gentle caress of the waves. Other times, we would wander hand in hand, exploring the desolate and peaceful stretches of the beach.

However, today is a bit different. When I wake up, I happen to be greeted by the sight of Victor carrying several large bags into the courtyard.

MC: Eh, did you go shopping?

Intrigued, I open the bags to take a look inside, only to find that they are filled with a variety of fresh vegetables, fish, and shrimp.

Victor: Today, we have something new in the plan.

I don’t know how, but somehow Victor has procured a bicycle. After he hangs the bags on the handlebars, he pats the back seat, gesturing me to hop on.

Victor: The village chief has arranged a suitable vacant kitchen space for us. Get on the bicycle first.

His words pique my curiosity. I carefully circle my arms around his waist, and under Victor’s control, the bicycle steadily glides along the unfamiliar road.

–

The narrow path is incredibly rough, and the unevenly paved road occasionally causes the bicycle to jolt violently.

MC: V-Victor, can you go a bit slower?

Victor: Relax the hand that’s clamping down my stomach a little, and I’ll consider it.

Victor frees one hand and pats my hand that is wrapped around his waist.

Victor: You’ve already experienced my bicycle driving skills last year. Are you still not confident?

MC: …pfff, CEO Victor sure does hold grudges well. How do you even remember such details?

Victor: It’s only that I just can’t forget that silly expression on a certain someone’s face before getting on the bicycle back then.

MC: Hehe, although I’ve already experienced it, this time, it’s an advanced version of the track with a higher level of difficulty…

The sea breeze sweeps through, as if bringing the sound of the waves crashing along the coast where we rode last year to my ears, while simultaneously carrying our synchronized laughter even farther away.

–

[Tidbits]: Refresher- a big callback to the dual proposal date, i.e., the Love Pledge Date on EN~ ❣️

–

At the end of the narrow path stands a small, white lighthouse, resembling a tiny chess piece amidst the vast blue sea.

MC: Could it be that the kitchen you mentioned is inside this lighthouse?

Victor nods and, with one hand holding mine and the other pushing the bicycle, walks towards the opened door of the lighthouse.

—

Victor: The magnetic storm is not over yet, so the village’s boats are unable to sail too far. The original caretaker of the lighthouse has returned to the village for a break, so the kitchen here is temporarily available.

Victor: When you first arrived on this White Pearl Island, didn’t you want me to personally cook a seafood feast for you?

Victor: This place is just right for us. No matter how much fuss we make and loud we are, it won’t disturb anyone else.

The corners of my lips can’t help but turn up wildly. I pounce on Victor and lock him in a big bear hug.

MC: Yippee, then it’s time for me to show off my skills!

I find a brand-new apron in one of the bags and skillfully fasten it around Victor, smoothing out any wrinkles.

MC: Chef, what tasks do you need your Sous Chef to fulfill?

Victor arches an eyebrow, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. He takes out a few vegetables from the bags and hands them to me.

Victor: Well, let’s begin with washing the vegetables.

MC: Sure thing~

As we finish washing each vegetable that pairs well with seafood, their leaves are now adorned with shimmering water droplets, reflecting a brilliant sparkle.

When the ingredients for the dishes are almost prepared and only waiting to be cooked, I walk over to Victor with my hands swinging behind my back.

The view of his figure from behind remains as poised and graceful as ever. He seems as if what he’s standing before is not a rustic clay stove, but the back kitchen of Souvenir.

Just as I’m about to lean over and peek into the pot, Victor blocks me with his arm.

MC: Don’t be so stingy! Could this be some secret recipe that I’m not allowed to know?

Victor: …there’s nothing that you can’t know, but I have another task to assign to you now.

As if he’s long been prepared, Victor somehow pulls out a list from his apron pocket and hands it to me.

A little confused, I take it from him and find that it’s a list of materials, listing items such as rubber pads and sponges.

Victor: I asked the village chief before coming here, and these materials we need are stocked upstairs. Let's get them ready beforehand, and we’ll have use of them when we get back to the health center.

Looking at his sincere expression, I forget about any teasing intentions and nod in response.

MC: Alright, leave it to me.

–

I rummage through the second floor of the lighthouse. Once I’ve found and readied all the materials we need, I swing open the door leading to the first floor.

The next second, a dense plume of pungent smoke rushes into the room, instantly clouding my vision.

MC: Cough, cough–– what’s going on? Is there a fire?! Victor!

Amidst the billowing smoke and intense heat, I hurriedly run down the stairs skipping every few steps, only to find that the first floor is also consumed by rolling clouds of dense smoke.

With a strenuous effort, after I’ve managed to push open the door to the lighthouse, I hear Victor’s unhurried voice coming from behind me.

Victor: I’m here.

–

As the smoke dissipates, it becomes evident that there is no fire inside the room. Victor is calmly seated at the dinner table, with a dish already prepared and placed on the table.

Upon seeing that he is unharmed, I shift my attention to the dish waiting on the table.

The dish is vibrant and delectable, skillfully plated with precision, showcasing his usual level of expertise.

If one overlooks the lingering smoke in the room and the smudges of ash on his face, everything appears to be the same as usual.

Nevertheless, the present situation is undeniably bizarre, leading me to narrow my eyes in suspicion.

MC: Victor, what happened?

Victor stays silent for a brief moment before pointing towards the clay stove in the kitchen, where the firewood is still burning.

Victor: I… [breaks into a short coughing fit and still sounds adorable] cough, cough––

Just as he is about to speak, the smoke causes him to choke, and he bends over in a coughing fit. After a while, he finally speaks in a rather peculiar tone.

Victor: The stove got damaged.

MC: …?

Victor: I’m being serious. It’s damaged.

Taking a brief look at the smoke billowing from the firewood and the partially charred wall, I roughly have a grasp of what must’ve happened here.

Seeing how calm and collected Victor was, I had assumed he had already grasped the technique of burning firewood. I never expected to witness such a scene of disaster.

MC: …cough, well, it’s a bit unfortunate. But CEO Victor still perfectly completed his cooking, didn’t he?

With the spirit of not ruining the mood, I suppress my laughter and pick up my chopsticks to take a bite.

As the fish slides into my mouth, it brings with it the freshness and tenderness of the ocean. My eyes can’t help but lighten up.

MC: Despite a minor hiccup, Chef Victor’s cooking is still incredibly delicious!

Victor: The quantity and ingredients used are the same as I calculated, so the taste shouldn’t deviate too much.

MC: You’ve worked hard. Now you take a break while I go and prepare a dish for us to try.

As I walk towards the stove while recalling the firewood-burning techniques I had previously learned, Victor suddenly grabs my hand.

Victor: …you sit here and wait for a bit. I’ll go and clean the pot.

The smudges of ashes on his face make his typically concealed emotions more prominent. He seems to be a bit… embarrassed?

Victor’s complete deviation from his usual demeanor sparks a “rebellious” impulse within me.

MC: I’ll do it, I’ll do it. Chef Victor can sit back and enjoy some well-deserved rest. Go and wait to savor a seafood feast.

Without waiting for him to stop me, I have already lifted the pot lid skeptically.

Victor seems to take a short breath, and I find myself nailed to the spot in surprise.

A half-pot of charred and unidentifiable food clings to the edges of the stove. I can’t help but widen my eyes and look at Victor, who has a slight furrow on his brows.

He loosens his hold on my hand, and his gaze shifts from the pot to my face, his expression subtly composed.

Victor: I…

MC: You…

Victor: Never mind. As you can see, it was indeed a failed cooking attempt.

Victor: I have never used a cauldron before, so I made a mistake in my calculation. Go ahead and laugh if you want to.

MC: Pfftt, HAHAHAHAHA…

Granted a special pardon, I can’t help but burst into laughter, and it takes me a while before I can stand up straight again.

MC: It was your first time using a clay stove, and it’s perfectly normal to struggle with controlling the heat at the first attempt. I’m sure I would have done even worse than you.

Victor: “Even worse than me”?

Feigning ignorance, I clear my throat and lean in close to him, smiling as I gaze into his eyes.

MC: Looking at this from this angle, CEO Victor still has excellent foresight.

MC: If something like this happened in the village, everyone would think it was a fire. Luckily, there is no one around here.

Victor: The precondition of this “luckily” is that your attempt also doesn’t turn into an accident.

MC: Okay. But if I do stir up trouble, I’m sure CEO Victor won’t just stand by and do nothing, will he?

Victor’s expression softens as he takes the cauldron from me, which I’ve strained to lift.

Victor: Dummy… instead of overthinking, why don’t you think about how we can clean this cauldron together?

So, after thoroughly cleaning the pot, arranging the firewood, and tidying up the stove, I change the placement of the firewood and light it. This time, there is no plume of black smoke.

Victor: …you know how to burn firewood?

MC: When we were filming the countryside program before, I learned from the villagers that the positioning of firewood is crucial for proper ventilation.

MC: It’s coming in handy now. It feels like my previous learning wasn’t in vain after all.

A soft chuckle reaches my ears. Victor leans over, watching me.

Victor: A certain someone’s curious nature does indeed come in handy in moments like these.

MC: CEO Victor, are you not curious about the secret of setting up firewood?

Victor: If I say I am, will your chin soar to the sky?

MC: Just a little bit, definitely not that high.

Victor squints his eyes at me and gives a slow nod.

Victor: Go on then. Tell me about it.

MC: Well, let me hear you address me as “teacher” first.

Victor: …

An expression of being rendered speechless emerges on Victor’s face, and he stares at me with the look of “Are you a dummy” written across his countenance.

I can’t resist the urge to curve my lips upward, signaling my surrender.

MC: Alright then, if you address me as “Chef MC,” that will do too~

With a half smile on his face, Victor points at the cauldron in front of us.

Victor: Chef MC, your pot is about to burn.

MC: …!

MC: AHHHHH, don’t just stand there! Come and help, Victor!

In the end, before the ingredients run out, we eventually manage to prepare a dinner sufficient for two people.

Looking at the painstakingly prepared meal on the table, I even feel moved.

MC: It was really a challenge… but given that I got to witness CEO Victor’s culinary mishap for once, it was not a total loss~

Victor: You seem more thrilled about watching me make a mishap than you would be about eating pudding.

MC: Well, it’s not like I’ve seen you make so many cooking mistakes before…

Victor looks at me helplessly and shakes his head, laughing in spite of himself.

Victor: You’re right. I really can’t remember when was the last time I was this frantic and flustered.

MC: But to be honest, I think it’s rather nice this way.

MC: Today is a teensy bit less perfect than yesterday, but tomorrow will be a teensy bit more perfect than today.

MC: Each day brings something unique, and that’s what brings more freshness. I love that I get to see a novel version of you this way.

I reach out and circle my arms around Victor’s shoulders, brushing off the ash on his face with my fingertips. Then, I plant a kiss on the corner of his lips.

MC: See! Today I kissed Victor who didn’t even realize he had smudges of ash on his face~

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5】

After dinner, we take our time to clean up the mess in the lighthouse before returning to the village.

Victor leads me along the stainless steel ladder, and together we climb up to the roof of the health center.

With the hottest hours of the day behind us, the sea breeze at dusk gently caresses us, carrying a slight salty moisture.

Watching as he puts together the sponges and rubber pads, my curiosity prompts me to speak.

MC: Sponges… rubber pads… it looks like you’re setting up a recording studio!

Just as these words leave my mouth, a realization suddenly dawns on me.

MC: Are you planning to add a soundproofing layer on the roof?

Victor: Not too slow. I don’t want a certain someone to toss and turn all night when it rains and end up looking like a panda the next day.

MC: Hehe, in that case, I’ll lend a helping hand too.

With a smile on my face, I take out the tools from the toolbox and help Victor set the soundproofing layer.

MC: I never imagined that you would not only know how to repair light bulbs and water tanks, but also be skilled in putting together wooden furniture and even installing soundproofing.

MC: It just feels like there’s nothing you can’t do. You’re so incredibly extraordinary, yet you always call yourself an ordinary person.

Victor: But on the flip side, there are things at times that many people can do, but I find myself not knowing how to do them.

Thinking back to the dinner experience, I can’t help but tug at the corners of my lips and look at him with an act of being very much in earnest.

MC: Indeed, there’s still more to learn when it comes to using a clay stove.

MC: But that’s actually great. Since coming to this village, I get to see a new side of Victor every single day.

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟’s͟ h͟a͟n͟d͟ r͟e͟a͟c͟h͟e͟s͟ o͟u͟t͟, t͟h͟e͟ b͟a͟c͟k͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ h͟a͟n͟d͟ b͟r͟u͟s͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ a͟g͟a͟i͟n͟s͟t͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟w͟e͟a͟t͟ d͟r͟o͟p͟l͟e͟t͟s͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟i͟p͟ o͟f͟ m͟y͟ n͟o͟s͟e͟, his voice infused with a smile.

Victor: If that’s the case, I have it easier then. Even without having to be here, I get to see a new side of a certain dummy every single day.

MC: Humph, it’s not like I don’t know how to do anything. Do I really make mistakes that often?

Victor: It’s all thanks to your imagination. You always manage to create unexpected stumbling blocks for yourself.

After Victor has finished setting up the last piece of the soundproofing layer, we organize the tools and do a quick cleanup.

Once everything is done, w͟e͟ l͟e͟a͟n͟ b͟a͟c͟k͟ a͟n͟d͟ l͟a͟y͟ d͟o͟w͟n͟ o͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟l͟a͟n͟t͟e͟d͟ t͟i͟l͟e͟d͟ r͟o͟o͟f͟.

The rays of the setting sun bathe us in its glow, outlining our figures with shades of depth and shallowness reminiscent of the sea’s undulations.

MC: After a day of hustling, taking a rest feels exceptionally comfortable.

Victor: Mhm, the moment right now, it’s very lovely.

From the rooftop, we gaze into the distance, all the way to the far-off horizon. As far as our eyes can see, everything is bathed in the resplendent hues of the setting sun.

The enormous sunset is making its leisurely descent beneath the sea, marking the end of yet another day.

Everything in this small fishing village unfolds slowly; even the sunset that flits by in an instant in the city seems elongated as if captured in a slow-motion sequence.

MC: I never could have imagined that I would be experiencing life with you in a completely unfamiliar fishing village like this.

MC: I often feel as though this period of time is like a dream.

Victor: We’ve been to different villages and islands in the past. What’s different this time?

I tilt my face to the side and watch him, the twilight casting a golden shade along his jawline.

MC: Even though the previous trips were relaxing, I would always put myself in the shoes of a tourist.

MC: I knew I didn’t belong there because the trips would eventually come to an end, and you and I would return to the familiar rhythm of our work and daily life.

MC: But this time, the magnetic storm has made the date will come sooner or later uncertain.

Victor: Yeah, I know.

Victor: Occasionally, I also have fleeting moments where I get the impression that this is how we were truly meant to live.

MC: Moments such as?

Victor: When cooking, collecting pearls, tidying up the room… in many occasions like that.

Victor’s voice seems as if it’s imbued with twilight, radiating a warm aura.

Victor: Once you are uncertain about what becomes of tomorrow, the weight of being a tourist vanishes.

Victor: So, occasionally being able to experience a life like this–– I quite like it.

MC: I feel the same way too. This is really great.

I shift back, letting my ears be filled with that familiar heartbeat.

MC: Here, we don’t need to worry about the company’s profits and losses, and there’s no pursuit of wealth and fame.

MC: You’re not the CEO of LFG, and I’m not some producer either. I don’t have to secretly worry about you shooting down my proposals.

I hear Victor’s deep chuckle echoing behind me, reaching my ears.

Victor: It sounds like the last part is the main point here. A certain someone just outright said that she could laze around and not have to work here.

MC: That’s not the main point.

Victor: What is it then?

MC: The main point is… I genuinely love this alien yet fascinating life in the fishing village, and the fact that I’m sharing this life with you.

MC: Here, we solve each other’s various small and big troubles that crop up in our daily lives––

MC: Together, we stumble on trivial matters, learn how to solve them, and finally reap the rewards––

MC: And also, “play” together with interesting activities...

My voice softens as the sea breeze whisks away the trailing echoes, guiding our eyes to interlock.

Victor: It goes beyond that.

Victor: This village’s more significant appeal to me is in the feeling that it’s simultaneously small and vast in its essence.

MC: How so?

Victor: Because if I want to find a certain dummy, I can walk through the entire village in less than half an hour.

Victor: But when we want to explore the world beyond, the entire ocean unfolds before us.

His pupils are dyed with the fiery colors of the sunset, transforming into a valley of such depth that they fail my ability to capture in words at this moment.

We gaze at each other for a long, long time, neither of us saying anything, as if the world contains only the two of us––

Lasting for so long that I believed even the setting sun would descend between our locked gazes, sprinkling stars into our eyes.

A soft laugh can’t help but escape my lips as I reach out, resting my hand on Victor’s neck once again.

MC: Since we arrived in this village, I feel like our time no longer belongs to this world.

MC: It’s as if it is a creation of you and me. And only because of us, the rhythm of time alters, sometimes fast and sometimes slow.

Victor: When does it become fast?

MC: Those times that I don’t like, fraught with difficulties.

MC: Like when we have to deal with the water-soaked floor due to leakage, or when we have to fetch water from the well because the water tank is not working.

MC: Because you’re by my side, these troubles that are unfamiliar to us always pass by quickly.

Memories of those hard-pressed moments seem to resurface for Victor, causing a smile to curve on his lips.

MC: So, that’s when a thought occurred to me.

Victor: And what was that?

MC: If you were truly a fisherman on this island, and I had been living in the city all along, I would have definitely chosen to go out to sea on a certain day.

MC: Then, on a sultry summer day or perhaps a rainy night, I would have found myself stranded on this island, where our paths would have crossed.

MC: At that time, I would have undoubtedly been attracted to the “ordinary fisherman” Victor and become an ordinary fishing village man and wife with you.

MC: What I’m trying to say is, no matter where you are or what kind of person you become, as long as it’s you, our trajectories will eventually converge.

–

[Tidbits]: The term MC uses here is “夫妻” (fuqi), which means “married couple”/ “husband and wife.” So, I wanted to keep the essence of MC’s innermost wish~ 🥺

–

My fingertips twitch, as Victor takes my hand and brings it to his lips, planting a kiss on my index finger.

Victor: I believe that.

Victor: So, no matter which possibility it is, I will be here waiting for you.

Victor: However, it’s never been in my principles to wait around passively. If you don’t come soon, I’ll leave this island.

Victor: No matter what I encounter at sea, I will never look back.

MC: Uh…?

The twilight has already begun to dissipate, and the profound darkness of the night seeps in from behind. The final glimmer of twilight casts its light upon Victor’s eyes.

So warm, so radiant–– it’s as if his eyes hold all the unspoken secrets of blazing fervor.

Then he leans in, personally unveiling this secret with the warmth of his lips.

Victor: My principle is to always continue sailing in one direction, knowing that I will inevitably meet my beloved.

The lingering sunset casts its glow upon us, and the fragmented light and shadows intertwine with our profound love and yearning for each other, all submerging together beneath the sea’s surface.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 5, Interwoven Emotions】

[Tidbits]: This is a bonus chapter (equivalent to the memory silhouette in SP MQs), described in the narrator’s POV, comprising moments before Chapter 4~ 🥺

—

Upon receiving an invitation to the village chief’s residence, Victor arrives to find the village chief standing in the courtyard, holding a flat clay jar in one hand.

Village Chief: Mr. Victor, I have already completed the communication process according to your guidance regarding the marketing of pearl farming you facilitated earlier.

Village Chief: Everything went smoothly, and they have agreed to come for a field assessment after the magnetic storm has passed.

The village chief’s aged and weather-beaten face has a tinge of joyful redness as he presents the case forward.

Village Chief: We are truly grateful to you for guiding the path for our little village. Everyone here feels that you two are the real lucky pearls of our island.

Village Chief: This is the finest pearl from our village, consider it as a token of our gratitude. I hope you won’t find it inadequate.

Having concluded his words, the village chief twists open the jar, revealing its contents to Victor.

Inside the box lays a black pearl that could fetch a lavish price at any auction. It absorbs all the ambient light and radiates its luster in an ethereal manner.

H͟o͟w͟e͟v͟e͟r͟, V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ d͟o͟e͟s͟n͟’t͟ h͟a͟r͟b͟o͟r͟ a͟n͟y͟ a͟m͟b͟i͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ t͟o͟ t͟r͟a͟n͟s͟f͟o͟r͟m͟ t͟h͟e͟ f͟a͟t͟e͟ o͟f͟ t͟h͟e͟ P͟e͟a͟r͟l͟ V͟i͟l͟l͟a͟g͟e͟ b͟y͟ h͟i͟m͟s͟e͟l͟f͟. H͟e͟ i͟s͟ m͟e͟r͟e͟l͟y͟ a͟ d͟r͟i͟v͟i͟n͟g͟ f͟o͟r͟c͟e͟, c͟a͟r͟r͟y͟i͟n͟g͟ o͟u͟t͟ a͟ m͟o͟d͟e͟s͟t͟ g͟e͟s͟t͟u͟r͟e͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ l͟i͟t͟t͟l͟e͟ e͟f͟f͟o͟r͟t͟.

Victor: The partnership is a matter of negotiation, and it’s mainly the outcome of the island’s villagers’ dedicated hard work. There is no need for such a precious gift as thanks.

Village Chief: How can that be! You are the great benefactor of our village, and we must properly thank you regardless of what you say.

Victor: Since it’s like this, let’s opt for a simpler way then.

Victor lifts the corners of his lips, forming a gentle smile.

Victor: Currently, there are no long-distance sea journeys in the village, and the lighthouse appears to be unused. I wonder if you’d be able to let us borrow it for a brief period?

There is no reason to refuse, and Victor quickly receives the key sent by the village chief.

Over the past few days, they have been dining on the dishes prepared by the villagers. Thanks to the unique coastal environment, the ingredients are abundantly fresh, resulting in naturally exquisite flavors.

But he also has a desire to try his hand at cooking in the kitchen himself.

I͟t͟’s͟ n͟o͟t͟ o͟n͟l͟y͟ b͟e͟c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ t͟h͟e͟ c͟o͟o͟k͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟t͟h͟o͟d͟s͟ i͟n͟ t͟h͟e͟ f͟i͟s͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ v͟i͟l͟l͟a͟g͟e͟ a͟r͟e͟ r͟a͟t͟h͟e͟r͟ s͟p͟e͟c͟i͟a͟l͟, b͟u͟t͟ a͟l͟s͟o͟ b͟e͟c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ h͟e͟ c͟a͟u͟g͟h͟t͟ w͟i͟n͟d͟ o͟f͟ a͟ c͟e͟r͟t͟a͟i͟n͟ d͟u͟m͟m͟y͟’s͟ i͟n͟a͟d͟v͟e͟r͟t͟e͟n͟t͟ w͟i͟s͟h͟.

According to the plan, he purchases the ingredients and makes arrangements for the next steps of his preparations.

–

Underneath the humble clay stove inside the lighthouse, Victor picks up the few remaining pieces of firewood and gives them a pinch.

Dampened by the overnight rain, the pieces of firewood seem to have lost their efficacy as a fuel source.

Victor: …looks like there are more things I need to try than I initially thought.

After selecting a fresh batch of dry wood, he firmly secures one log and raises the axe in his hand.

He tries to smoothly engage his shoulder muscles to sequentially drive the motion in his arms, and then exerts force in a downward strike with his hands.

Due to long years of usage, the handle of the axe has been worn down. The vibrations transferring from the iron head to the wooden handle c͟a͟u͟s͟e͟ h͟i͟s͟ p͟a͟l͟m͟s͟ t͟o͟ s͟l͟i͟g͟h͟t͟l͟y͟ r͟e͟d͟d͟e͟n͟.

After a while, the rough-shaped logs have transformed into evenly sized pieces of firewood, neatly stacked on one side of the woodshed.

Victor takes a look at the time.

Although it’s not as challenging as he thought it would be, there’s still room for improvement.

With the thoughts of a certain dummy who has no idea about his plans, Victor feels a heightened sense of ease about exploring new territories he has never encountered before.

In the past few days, he has purposely observed the villagers’ cooking techniques so that once he has gathered sufficient examples, he will be able to innovate and improve upon them.

He preserves the distinctive essence of the island’s cuisine but m͟a͟k͟e͟s͟ s͟u͟b͟t͟l͟e͟ m͟o͟d͟i͟f͟i͟c͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟s͟ t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟a͟s͟t͟e͟s͟ t͟o͟ s͟u͟i͟t͟ h͟e͟r͟ p͟r͟e͟f͟e͟r͟r͟e͟d͟ p͟a͟l͟e͟t͟t͟e͟.

The firewood, ingredients, and cooking utensils for the clay stove are all prepared and ready. Right now, all that’s remained is waiting to bring her here.

As Victor takes in the sight of everything before him, a small yet soft smile graces his lips.

Victor: [I AM IN TEARS, HE IS SO JOYED] It seems that managing the firewood and controlling the heat for the cauldron might not be as challenging as I initially imagined.

And he is also looking forward to seeing what kind of surprises a certain someone will bring to today’s dinner plan.

—

•─────⋅◍♡◍⋅─────•

—

【Chapter 6】

We remain in each other’s arms on the rooftop for a long, long time, until the tangy and moist smell of earth quietly creeps in. A few droplets of water fall onto my body, bringing a sense of both temptation and reminder.

Victor releases me and takes my hand instead.

Victor: It’s raining. Let’s go into the room first.

I nod and follow Victor off the rooftop, running through the sprinkling drizzle and into the health center.

It’s only when inside the room that I can truly experience the effectiveness of the soundproofing layer.

The sound of rain, which originally sounded like drum beats, has now transformed into a soft and somewhat muffled tone as it lands onto the soundproofing layer.

We bring the electric fan over to the edge of the bed to alleviate the sultry heat that accompanies the summer rain, relishing in the precious moments of relaxation.

However, this moment of tranquility lasts for even less than half an hour. After numerous tosses and turns due to the sweltering heat, I eventually get up and leave the small bed.

I walk to the refrigerator and fetch a bottle of chilled water, pouring it into two glasses. With a complacent expression, I raise the glasses at Victor.

MC: Are you hot? Check out what I’ve got!

Exhilarated, I hand him a glass of cold water, while my peripheral vision catches sight of a basin on the floor containing a clean towel soaking in water.

After taking a sip of the iced water, Victor notices my gaze and arches an eyebrow at me.

Victor: Wiping your body will make you feel cooler and more refreshed.

MC: Oh, yeah! How come I didn’t think of that!

I set the glass down and lean closer to Victor with a beaming smile.

MC: But it’s just too hot. I don’t feel like moving at all. What should I do~

Victor: …want me to do the work for you again?

MC: That’s not it! I’m just here, hot’ly seeking “Vi”... umph!

–

[Anika’s Notes]: Uh, this was a tricky translation LOL. MC actually uses a pun on Victor’s name <热来找“李”> (re lai zhao Li), and his first name is under the quote. What she’s doing here is killing two birds with one stone– requesting “Li Zeyan special service” for the wiping. And for the other implied meaning, she states it explicitly later on LMAO 🤪

–

Before I can finish my sentence, the damp towel in Victor’s hand has already been laid on my body.

The sudden coolness causes me to flinch, and I subconsciously arch my waist. But he firmly holds onto my arm.

Victor: Don’t move.

The cold towel sequentially wipes across my face, neck, and arms… leaving behind a trail of cool moisture embracing every inch of my exposed skin.

A slight quiver runs through me. However, after a brief moment of comfort, the dampness clinging to my skin is no longer a source of pleasantness.

A burning thirst, corroded by restlessness, seems to consume every crevice of my body, as if it were seeping out from the cracks in my bones. I yearn for something more indefinable, a need for something intangible that can bring me solace.

MC: [blushing] Victor…

I call his name with a lingering intonation, yet Victor simply raises his eyebrows in response.

Victor: Turn around. I can’t wipe your back like this.

Humph!

Seeing that Victor isn’t taking my hints, I take matters into my own hands and pick up the water glass, seizing the opportunity to hide a piece of ice in my palm.

MC: [blushing] Vic—tor—

Victor: What is it–– hiss!

Victor is startled by my sudden attack, causing his eyebrows to jump. But he swiftly recovers and captures my mischief-making hand.

Victor: Why are you always so mischievous?

I sport a bright grin and squeeze the ice cube in my hand, wearing an innocent expression on my face.

MC: I’m very well-behaved, you see.

MC: Aren’t I also helping CEO Victor cool down this way?

I entertain the thought of mounting another sneak attack as I say this. But as soon as I turn my wrist, Victor’s palm clamps me even harder.

Victor: I don’t need this kind of cooling method.

MC: Huh?

Victor: Because I have a more effective approach.

Before I can grasp the meaning behind his words, I feel a sudden tightening around my waist, causing me to be caught off guard and topple backward.

I let out a short gasp of surprise, only to have it immediately silenced as his lips consume mine.

The ice cube in my hand is too cold and slippery, making it impossible for me to keep hold of it. Victor effortlessly snatches it away from me.

T͟h͟e͟ s͟p͟r͟e͟a͟d͟i͟n͟g͟ i͟c͟y͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ s͟e͟e͟p͟s͟ i͟n͟t͟o͟ o͟u͟r͟ i͟n͟t͟e͟r͟t͟w͟i͟n͟e͟d͟, s͟c͟o͟r͟c͟h͟i͟n͟g͟ b͟o͟d͟i͟e͟s͟, c͟a͟u͟s͟i͟n͟g͟ m͟e͟ r͟e͟f͟l͟e͟x͟i͟v͟e͟l͟y͟ t͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ u͟p͟. Unable to endure it any longer, I blurt out a plea for surrender.

MC: [blushing] It’s t-t-too cold, I––

Victor: It’s too late for that.

A second cube of ice comes down, along with his kisses.

I almost want to regret the prank I made just moments ago, as I now find myself t͟r͟a͟p͟p͟e͟d͟ i͟n͟ a͟ c͟r͟o͟s͟s͟f͟i͟r͟e͟ o͟f͟ e͟x͟t͟r͟e͟m͟e͟ c͟o͟l͟d͟ a͟n͟d͟ e͟x͟t͟r͟e͟m͟e͟ h͟e͟a͟t͟, unable to move in the slightest.

–

Creak, creak… the fragile hospital bed emits a series of repetitive protests, as it has been repeating often throughout this period.

The curtain next to the small bed sways high in response to our movements, and then descends gently and tenderly, accompanied by the seductive glow of the dusky rays.

Bathed in the soft, intoxicating light and shadows, Victor gazes at me. The sheet loosely draped over him has slid most of the way down, exposing a body that still bears sunburn marks.

He leans down, pressing his entire body against mine. In the unseen space, his searing palm cradles me, lifting me up.

I find myself hooped between him and the narrow bed, with my hand holding the glass forced to be raised high, circling around his back.

V͟i͟c͟t͟o͟r͟ h͟o͟l͟d͟s͟ a͟n͟ i͟c͟e͟ c͟u͟b͟e͟ b͟e͟t͟w͟e͟e͟n͟ h͟i͟s͟ t͟e͟e͟t͟h͟, a͟n͟d͟ t͟h͟e͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ o͟f͟ c͟o͟o͟l͟n͟e͟s͟s͟ b͟l͟o͟s͟s͟o͟m͟s͟ o͟n͟ m͟y͟ c͟h͟e͟s͟t͟ a͟l͟o͟n͟g͟ w͟i͟t͟h͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟r͟i͟c͟k͟l͟i͟n͟g͟ w͟a͟t͟e͟r͟ d͟r͟o͟p͟l͟e͟t͟s͟.

MC: [blushing and moaning] Mmm…!

Shivering, I͟ s͟u͟r͟r͟e͟n͟d͟e͟r͟ m͟y͟s͟e͟l͟f͟ t͟o͟ t͟h͟e͟ t͟o͟u͟c͟h͟ o͟f͟ h͟i͟s͟ l͟i͟p͟s͟ a͟n͟d͟ a͟l͟l͟o͟w͟ h͟i͟m͟ t͟o͟ s͟l͟o͟w͟l͟y͟ g͟l͟i͟d͟e͟ t͟h͟i͟s͟ i͟c͟y͟, w͟e͟t͟ s͟e͟n͟s͟a͟t͟i͟o͟n͟ a͟c͟r͟o͟s͟s͟ m͟y͟ b͟o͟d͟y͟.

And this mildly stinging coldness also impels me to hold him even tighter.

The temperature gradually climbs as our bodies intertwine, intensifying the already intoxicating and enchanting ambiance.

It’s only when the translucent ice has completely melted into an ambiguous tide of water that Victor finally speaks, his voice tinged with a husky tone.

Victor: …still want to provoke me more?

I tilt my face up and stare at him in a daze, finding his eyes radiating with a satisfied and sly glow.

I incline my right hand slightly, and the iced water from the glass spills out, landing on his back.

MC: [blushing] Does this count as another act of provocation… mmph!

Victor doesn’t let me speak any further and firmly clamps my chin, using his lips and tongue to block the smile I couldn’t suppress.

Victor: Of course it does.

Just as I’m about to seize this brief opportunity to speak, another kiss cuts me off again.

Victor: After all, I’m merely an ordinary person now, and I don’t have to be so reasonable.

Victor: So, from now until the break of dawn, there will be no more pardoning for any of your actions.

The heat of his burning love submerges me, drowning out each of my futile attempts to plead my case.

Outside the room, a corner of the sky clears up, and the rosy blush of the sunset climbs up the window, sneakily peering into the bewitching scene inside.

The subtle patter of rain has completely dissipated at some point, but we are too caught up in our own world to notice.

Engulfed in the nearly dizzying collisions, we fill each other’s souls to the brim with only the resonance and whispers of this moment.

I feel as though I have transformed into a pearl calm, being picked up by Victor from that shimmering shallow beach——

M͟o͟s͟t͟ w͟i͟l͟l͟i͟n͟g͟l͟y͟, I͟ s͟u͟r͟r͟e͟n͟d͟e͟r͟ a͟l͟l͟ m͟y͟ l͟i͟n͟e͟s͟ o͟f͟ d͟e͟f͟e͟n͟s͟e͟ f͟o͟r͟ h͟i͟m͟, l͟a͟y͟i͟n͟g͟ b͟a͟r͟e͟ m͟y͟ r͟a͟w͟e͟s͟t͟ b͟e͟a͟u͟t͟y͟ b͟e͟f͟o͟r͟e͟ h͟i͟m͟.

Thereupon, all the gullies of yearnings and restless desires are finally quenched as they are engulfed by a mountainous tsunami——

— before finding solace in the serene tranquility of bliss.

────────────────/////

[Tidbits]: The phrase used here is “山呼海啸”, which literally translates to “mountains calling and seas roaring.” The idiomatic phrase conveys the idea of an event that is extremely grand, extraordinary, or of significant magnitude, evoking a sense of intense impact or overwhelming force.

[Anika’s Notes]: Yeah, good thing it was an abandoned health center and there weren’t people at least in the vicinity LMAO. Hats-off to the writers for one of the most intensely vivid and beautiful sex scenes writing I’ve ever read in my little life LOL— the blend of profound love, intense zeal, raw passion-- yet not losing the sense of reverence~ ❤️

─

────────────────────────────────────────────

【My two cents, feel free to ignore LOL】

—

#did i underline the parts i wanted to bring light on + have y'all focus and rethink what you read? YES I DID AKSHDH LMAO #I STILL CANNOT GET OVER JUST HOW BEAUTIFUL + MAGNIFICENT THE WRITING IS. PG I REALLY HOPE YOU’RE PAYING VICTOR’S WRITERS WHAT THEY DESERVE #THE ROLLERCOASTER OF EVERYTHING ASKKASHHHJJ #mlqc victor #mlqc li zeyan #mlqc #mr love victor #mr love queen's choice #恋与制作人 #李泽言 #love and producer #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc translations

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thecorvidforest · 8 months

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I have had a situation recently, and I would like your advice on it. I run a gaming discord server, with private servers for a few games. A streamer joined who claimed to have DID. They seemed to flaunt it all over their streams, seemingly very attention seeking. This, to me, seems likely to be fake, but I am unsure. Can you give any input? I don't want to have someone who makes up mental illnesses, discrediting those who actually have them, around, but I also don't want to falsely accuse someone.

sure, i’m happy to give my input, but it might not be what you’re looking for. you seem to have good intentions and this isn’t meant to bully or shame you at all, i just want to gently push back on this a little bit.

i personally believe there is never a good enough reason to accuse someone of faking a mental illness, especially something like DID/OSDD. there is no reliable way to spot a faker, and accusing people of lying does far more to hurt the community than faking does. let me explain.

some systems like to talk about their experiences, some don’t. same goes for anyone with any condition. talking about one’s plurality frequently is not automatically them flaunting it, and it’s certainly not grounds to assume they’re faking. plurality informs one’s entire life, we should be allowed to talk about it without having to worry if we’re being perceived as attention seeking.

here’s the thing. it’s wonderful that you want to help protect people who have DID/OSDD from people who might be faking it and i don’t doubt for a second that your intentions are genuine, but accusing someone of faking based on how you perceive them will do far more to discredit them than someone who’s actually faking it.

because here’s what’s going to happen if you remove them from your space because you think they’re faking: everyone around you who may be a closeted system - or even just anyone with a highly stigmatized disorder - is going to know that your acceptance of them isn’t based on their self-report, it’s based on your own perception of their symptoms. they will no longer feel free to be themselves, because showing their symptoms comes with the risk of being kicked out. you’ll have effectively made your space less safe for people with stigmatized conditions. and for the accused person, you’ll have removed them from a space that’s meant to be safe and completely invalidated their lived experience based on them choosing to speak about said experience.

on the flipside, let’s say they are faking and you do nothing. most likely scenario, they’re attention seeking and using DID to get the attention they want. what ends up happening most of the time is the person faking it eventually gets tired of the harassment and of having to keep all their lies straight and they stop.

of course lying about an already stigmatized condition for attention is an awful thing to do, and i’m not defending people who do it. what i am saying is that it is far less harmful to accidentally include a liar than it is to exclude someone who may or may not be lying with no way to know for sure if they are.

TLDR: whether they’re faking or not, them talking about it isn’t a reason to assume they are. and regardless, it’s always better to assume they’re telling the truth.

i hope this helps! we had a few switches in the middle of writing this so i’m sorry if the phrasing doesn’t flow well lmao

#corvidforest asks #dissociative identity disorder #did system #osdd #other specified dissociative disorder #osdd 1a #osdd 1b

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sapphia · 1 year

Text

we need to talk about grian. “alliances in the life series never last” no, your alliances in the life series never last because you don’t want them to. i’m so tired of this bitch making her own destiny and then pulling a surprised pikachu face when the natural consequences of her actions eventuate. grian really spent this season rushing jimmy and joel headlong to their deaths AND helping the only other person likely to beat them there survive, and then he’s surprised when he’s left without a team? the team he tried to kick jimmy out a few episodes ago for literally no reason? he couldn’t sabotage it easily so he just went the old fashioned way of general recklessness.

grian spent his entire first season chained to scar, complaining the whole time of course, humming and haa-ing about what his alliance would be after he died and went yellow. they were literally several episodes in with an entire life built together and he was like “remember this is just until i’m yellow. then i’m off to find a new alliance lol”. as they settle into their long-term stronghold in their sand-monopoly, totally threatening to leave scar alone and in a situation where he’d have to defend the entire desert on his red life. then when grian didn’t go to yellow until really late in the game and their closest allies had died so he couldn’t switch teams anyway, he ends up sticking with scar and actually winning together with him (though he takes the solo win and kills scar in pvp).

then in double life he like… decides he wants to be soulmates with bigb for some reason even though soulmates are chosen at random? like he literally sees bigb running around the mountainside while looking for his soulmate and is like “i wish he was my soulmate😍” and then decides he will be and is disappointed that they aren’t. and then is even more disappointed when he finds out his soulmate is scar, even though they’re good friends and work well together and literally won last time they played together and scar has improved massively at the game since then. (not that grian noticed that at all for the entire season they were paired together. literally he said in limited life “now that i’m not partnered with scar he’s actually dangerous.” BABE. YOU WON TOGETHER IN THE FIRST SEASON. LAST SEASON HE WATERBUCKET-CLUTCHED 100 BLOCKS DOWN FROM RIGHT NEXT TO YOU. HE’S BEEN DANGEROUS TO PEOPLE THIS ENTIRE TIME. YOU’VE JUST BEEN ON HIS SIDE SO HE’S NEVER BEEN THAT DANGEROUS TO YOU).

so yeah then he spends the whole series being “secret soulmates” with bigb for no reason other than he’s annoyed he’s paired with scar/not paired with bigb. in the game with randomly-generated partners. his game with randomly-generated partners.

and even now he had an alliance with scar’s team lined up perfectly. his closest allies on the server and his teammates all dying. note that they weren’t actually dead yet. grian had already given up on his team while they were still alive and kicking. but anyway, he decides he needs a new team and he has a set of very close allies right there. but no, he literally would rather go make an alliance with the singular mortal enemy of his just-dead teammate rather than put himself on the same team as scar again. because alliances and friendships mean nothing here, right? etho and bdubz are out there fighting to roleplay together season after season, scott is giving up lives to someone he partnered with back in season 1 and he and cleo have basically decided they vibe so well together they’ll be bffs through all of time, and ties are creating the same approximate polycule they form in literally every season. but heaven forbid grian has to acknowledge he and scar have spent more time together than apart in this series.

grian thinks alliances break up quickly because he has wildly unstable relationships with literally everyone on the server. he’s the undiagnosed nd girl being like “man, people suck :(”. no girl, you suck at people. you have a condition. get help.

#grian #limited life #limited life smp #third life smp #life series smp #double life #life series #rambling #lol #desert duo #bad boys limited life

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sw33t-d1vine · 8 months

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This is a really simple one but gn reader admitting their feelings to springtrap

── ✮ Falling in love. Springtrap!

- Springtrap x GN!reader

- cw : confessions , fluff , u guys r cute n silly

- word count , 842

- a/n : hi i need to stop dying erm.. enjoy this ;p its monday im tired bleh

• Enjoy what you read ? come join my discord server to see sneak peaks and chat with me and other friends ! Link in my pinned post :)

── Admitting your feelings to someone was hard, especially when the person your admitting your feelings to is a walking corpse in a rabbit suit.

You couldn’t keep these feelings hidden much longer though, not after years of being friends with him. He was there for you when you needed him, and you were there for him. Even if visiting him was hard too, you tried to go to him everyday to hangout.

Hang outs got longer, and you’d even spend a night or two at the abandoned pizzeria, just for him. He couldn’t sleep, but he’d watch over you and run his fingers through your hair with care. He didn’t want your hair getting tangled between the mechanics and machinery in him.

Nights after nights, you realized you did have feelings for him, and you hoped he felt the same way.. You weren’t even sure if he could even feel that way about anyone.. He was dead! You could only hope he could..

You held an envelope close to yourself, growing nervous as you neared the pizzeria, fingers fiddling with the paper, folding and unfolding the corners of it over and over again.

You stopped in front of the building, staring. You didn’t move, swallowing back the lump in your throat. It felt like when you would count down to 3 to do something, before chickening out and restarting that count over and over.

It was scary to confess.. If he denied you, it would be awkward, and you didn’t want that. He could think you’re weird for liking him that way. He could make fun of you for liking him. He could-

You stopped your thoughts, letting out a long sigh, before taking a step and walking to the pizzeria.

You stepped through the doors, taking the usual route you always took to his room. Your heart raced faster and faster the more you got closer, you could almost feeling it pounding against your chest, like it wanted to just escape.

Stepping into the room, you saw Springtrap sitting in the same spot he’s always been in. You heard a few clicks, watching as he tilted his head up to look at you.

You smiled at him, giving him a small wave, “Hi.” You greeted, his response being a small grunt.

He looked up at you, before looking at the envelope in your hand, nodding his head slightly at it. “Whats that?”

You looked down at the envelope, blush spreading across your face. You opened it, assuming he couldn’t even open it himself with his hands, and held out the letter.

He slightly tilted his head at you, before reaching and taking the paper in his hands, turning it and reading it.

It was quiet while he read it, and you stood awkwardly in your spot, fiddling with your fingers, watching him read the letter. It wasn’t long, but it wasn’t short either, and he only looked up at you when he finished reading, gently folding the paper.

“I didn’t know you felt that way about me.” Springtrap muttered, holding up the folded piece of paper, “You didn’t have to write it though.”

You looked away, embarrassed. “I know, but I thought it was easier to write down my thoughts.” You sighed, “I’m sorry if this is weird. I’ve liked you for so long now, but I don’t want to ruin anything I already have with you. If you want, we can just stay friends and act like this never ha-“

“Who said I didn’t like you back?” Springtrap gave you an amused look. “I never said no, did I?” He teased, gently setting down the paper, before patting the spot next to him.

You obliged, sitting down next to him. You could heat his gears moving against each other as he moved his arm up, wrapping it around you and pulling you closer. “I’ve liked you for a long time too.”

You blinked, blushing and smiling, “Really..?” You leaned into him.

Springtrap nodded his head, humming. “I thought it would be weird to tell you first since i’m not human.” He shrugged, “So this makes it better for me.”

“Well, I’m glad you like me back.” You hummed, “I was so nervous you’d think I’m weird.. or make fun of me.”

“Make fun of you?” Springtrap tilted his head, “I would never do such a thing, darling.” He felt a little sad you thought that, but didn’t say anything else.

You frowned a little, sighing, “I know..” And as if you read his mind, “That was probably rude of me for thinking that.. But I couldn’t help it.”

“Its okay.” Springtrap turned his head, nudging your forehead with his snout as a makeshift kiss.

You chuckled, turning your head and giving his nose a kiss.

Thank god he accepted your feelings.. You would hate to ruin anything you had with him.

Leaning into Springtrap, you let out a content sigh, closing your eyes. The night ended with you falling asleep against Springtrap, and him holding you close to his side.

#william afton #fnaf #springtrap #five nights at freddys #fnaf william afton #william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x reader #five nights at freddy's #— Springtrap ✮⋆˙

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materassassino · 8 months

Text

Patrimony

From the DinLuke Server prompt of the same word.

Luke reaches the end of his tether, and Ahsoka gets yelled at, as she deserves.

------

Luke feels out of his depth.

Everyone seems to know more than him.

“We didn’t used to do it like that,” Cal says, frowning.

“Oh, Kanan told me it was done this way,” Ezra says, flippant.

“That’s not how the Jedi teach,” Ahsoka says, disapproving.

“I don’t remember anything about that,” Reva says, dismissive.

“I DON’T THINK THAT WOULD HAVE BEEN APPROVED OF,” Gungi says, uncertain.

“Are you sure you want to do it that way?” Ezra asks, wincing, and Luke has had it.

He likes to think he’s left his rashness behind. He’s matured, he’s fully mastered his emotions. But even his patience can’t last forever.

He whips around to Ezra, shoulders set, face a mask of fury.

“You run this karking Order then!” he snarls. “If you’re all so much wiser than I am! Run it yourselves!”

And he storms off, blood hammering in his ears. He’s surprised he only said that, and not something so much worse, which was exactly what he wanted to. He stomps away from the little compound they’ve made, their temporary temple, and out into the streets of Sundari.

His boots pound the pavement as he tries to get as far away as possible, and Mandalorians quickly get out of his way, staring at him as he passes. He doesn’t care. All he can hear in his head is reproach, remonstration, criticism, dismissal. What do you even think you’re doing? the voices in his head demand, jeering at him. You don’t know anything!

Of course he doesn’t know anything, he thinks bitterly. He’s found himself in one of the little parks, a residential area, and he throws himself beneath a tree that still needs time to grow. No one told him anything. His masters were forging a weapon, not a Jedi. He didn’t even know what a Jedi was until he was nineteen! And they had the gall to call him the last, as if there weren’t people out there, people the same as him, who could have guided him from the start. They didn’t even attempt to remake the Order, and now they come here, judging every wrong step he takes without offering to teach him the dance in the first place.

He refuses to meditate, even though that would be the correct, Jedi thing to do. But he doesn’t want to be a Jedi just then. He doesn’t. He wants to drop everything and just run to the farthest corner of the galaxy where no one has even heard of the Force. Sithspit, even Tatooine would be better than this, right now.

What is he even trying to do, anyway? Maybe the Order would be better off dead and buried. What would the galaxy even gain, if he succeeded?

“May I sit?”

Luke hears the silver bells in the Force, their resonant chimes, and he scowls.

“What do you want?” he demands, not even looking up.

Ahsoka, wisely, chooses not to sit, because Luke would simply stand and then march off again.

“To discuss, perhaps,” she says, mild and supercilious and it grates on Luke’s nerves like metal scraping against metal, the hulls of two ships colliding. He surges to his feet, and her height doesn’t intimidate him – frankly, he’s faced taller, and meaner, and uglier.

“What’s to discuss? How I’m destroying everything? Ruining the legacy of the Jedi?!”

“Rage doesn’t—”

“Shut up, Ahsoka!” he snaps, and she does, her mouth clamping shut like he’s cast a spell on her. “You’re the worst of them all! Always needling, always criticising! You waltz in here whenever you want, proclaiming you’re not even a Jedi, and then proceed to tear everything apart because it’s not to your exacting, aloof standards!”

Luke breathes deeply through his nose, and instantly regrets everything he’s said. He pinches the bridge of his nose.

“I’m tired,” he says, fighting to keep his voice steady, “of everything I do being worthless.”

Ahsoka is quiet. “Luke,” she says, and finally there’s some emotion in her voice after it’s been so distant all the time, “it’s not. You’re… you’re trying to do everything on your own. You’re exhausted, you’re barely at home.”

She reaches out, cautious, like he’s a cornered, wounded animal that might bite, and gently her hand settles on his shoulder. Viciously he contemplates shrugging her off, but that just feels petty. He simply glances at her hand, and then at her.

“We know how much this means to you,” she says. “How much is at stake. You’ve done so much and you’ve done it by yourself.”

He scoffs at her.

She frowns. “It’s not just your legacy, Luke. You can’t carry it alone.”

“I’m not trying to!” he says through gritted teeth. “I was never trying to! I need help, not constant belittlement!”

Ahsoka sighs. “I… I think some of us are afraid,” she says. “We’re afraid it might be too distant from what we knew, even if we barely knew anything in the first place.” She removes her hand and sits, cross-legged, rubbing her arms. She looks much younger than she is, in that moment. “The world we knew is gone, and it’s been gone so long, that to see something being born out of its ashes means… letting go of it.” She looks up, tears in the corners of her eyes. “I’m sorry, Luke.”

He takes a deep breath, and for a long moment he stares at the ground beside her, before making a choice. He sits as well.

“It can’t go back to how it was,” Luke says. “I’m trying. I know it’s not the same, but it can’t be the same. Am I qualified? No. But are any of us? You all left me alone to do this by myself, no help, no guidance, no knowledge. I’ve been working off puzzle pieces that don’t even fit together. You say you want to help now, but it doesn’t feel like help. It just feels like resentment.”

Ahsoka’s breath hitches and she shuts her eyes, a look of pain on her face. “I know. The thing is, you’re doing so well. You’ve given us a place to call home again, you’re finding our history, you’re finding us the future as well…” She rubs at her eyes. “We had nothing for decades. We ran and we hid and we died, and then you came along and...” She gestures at everything around them, the rebuilt dome and the cleared streets and the rebuilt houses. “You even made allies out of old enemies. You’ve done so much.”

She looks at him then, biting her lip. “Is… is this because of Anakin?”

Luke scowls at her. “Not everything is to do with Anakin kriffing Skywalker,” he says waspishly.

“No, I meant… do you feel guilt for what he did?” she asks. “Do you feel bound to it because of him? Because of his actions?”

“I…” Luke swallows, and searches inside himself. I am a Jedi, like my father before me. “No,” he admits. “It’s not guilt. It’s not repentance, because I didn’t do it. It’s more… the right thing to do. It’s because the galaxy will be better for it.” He laughs bitterly. “Not that it feels like it.”

“How so?”

“Sometimes I wonder what the point of it is,” he says gloomily, tugging at the grass beneath his fingers. “Maybe the Order should have stayed dead.”

“Have you ever… thought of leaving?” Ahsoka asks, her voice gentle.

Luke blinks.

“You could, you know,” Ahsoka continues. “You have a husband, a son. Grogu doesn’t need to be a Jedi. You could simply be Luke.”

He’d thought about it, on lonely sleepless nights, curled up in bed on Yavin 4, all alone, where the future seemed impenetrable and murky and ultimately futile. But he hadn’t. He gotten up the next day and continued, one foot in front of the other. Although… well, if Grogu hadn’t have come along, perhaps he would have. Loneliness was becoming too familiar a state of being.

Luke shakes his head. “I am a Jedi. That’s what I am. I couldn’t… I couldn’t see the suffering in the galaxy and turn a blind eye to it, just walk away from it all. Not when I can do so much more.”

Ahsoka smiles then, her eyes creasing. “There’s your answer. That’s the point.” She sighs again. “I think we’ve been neglecting that, but we’ve also been neglecting each other. We’ve all been so isolated, it hasn’t done us good.”

“Jedi are pack animals?” Luke suggests, teasing, and Ahsoka chuckles.

It’s quiet, broken by the sound of children playing a street away and the recycled breeze in the leaves above them.

“You’re a good grandmaster, Luke,” Ahsoka says. “Don’t let us tell you otherwise.”

Luke stiffens, head snapping round to stare at her. “What?”

“A good grandmaster,” she repeats.

He shakes his head. “No. No, I’m no grandmaster, I’m far too young for that…”

“Who else is there?” Ahsoka asks. “Me, the coward running away from her own truth? Cal, who ran away from everything else? Reva, who was an Inquisitor?” She sets her hand on his shoulder again, more confidently this time, and Luke welcomes its weight. “You’ve done more than we ever could. You’re the only one it could be.” She makes a face. “And perhaps being old isn’t always the best choice.”

“I’ll take that,” he says, shrugging. “I’m not calling myself that, though. Not yet, anyway.”

Ahsoka nods with a chuckle.

Together they head back to the compound, and all eyes are on them as they walk through the gate. Grogu sprints across the yard and launches himself into Luke’s arms, babbling wildly and accusatorially.

“Well, they didn’t kill each other,” Reva says.

“Are you ok?” Ezra asks, nervous.

Luke sighs. “Yes. But… It’s been feeling like you’re all against me, like you hate everything I do, and that’s been… demoralising.”

“Talking out your feelings like normal people?” Merrin heckles from her seat beneath the porch – she tends to watch, distant and slightly mocking of it all, but fundamentally supportive. “Not very Jedi.”

Cal rolls his eyes as Reva huffs darkly.

“WE DIDN’T MEAN THAT, LUKE,” Gungi says. “IF YOU HADN’T HAVE FOUND US, WE WOULDN’T EVEN BE HERE, TOGETHER AGAIN.”

“We owe you a lot,” Cal admits, folding his arms. “What you’ve done so far, it’s incredible.”

“And we didn’t get this far by doing it by the book,” Ezra says. “We had to adapt to survive.”

Luke rocks Grogu gently, looking down at him pensively. Grogu looks up, curious, and touches his little claws to Luke’s hand.

It’s for him, isn’t it? Everything that he does, ultimately, is for Grogu, and those that will come after him. The legacy isn’t something they’ve been handed from the past, it’s a debt owed to the future. And there is no future without change.

“The past can prepare us,” Luke says, tickling Grogu behind the ear, just to hear him giggle, “but we can’t chart a course back to it. And I can’t do it alone, I need all of you with me.”

“Spoken like a true grandmaster,” Ahsoka murmurs, giving him a gentle pat on the shoulder.

The word doesn’t fit right now, but perhaps it will, in the future.

#star wars #luke skywalker #ahsoka tano #ezra bridger #cal kestis #grogu #very very background #dinluke #pixie writes #new jedi order

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minisugakoobies · 2 years

Text

Paradise | JJK - Ten

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: swearing, drinking, kissing, Jin in another suit, a little ass grabbing, accidental voyeurism, masturbation (m + f), use of sex toys, nipple pinching, dirty talk, Jungkook's filthy mouth goes from 0 to 100 real quick, god bless technology

Word Count: 8.3k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Thank you to @minttangerines and @miscelunaaa for helping me with this one when I got a little stuck! And @bangtanintotheroom for providing some much-needed musical inspiration. I might need to start a Paradise playlist, huh? 🤔

Unbeta’d as usual. Please let me know what you think, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter

You need a new job.

The thought has been plaguing you for weeks. It hits you again for the 875th time on Monday afternoon, working on yet another project dumped into your lap mere days from deadline thanks to an incompetent coworker. These last minute assignments just keep popping up like whack-a-moles lately, and you’re getting really tired of always being the only one who can smack them into submission. Stretching, you close your laptop and decide to take a walk downtown to grab some lunch and try to clear your head a little.

Lost in a reverie picturing taking an actual whack-a-mole mallet to your waiting work assignments, you don’t realize that someone sat down next to you at the counter until a tattooed hand gently taps the top of your menu.

“If you’re looking for a recommendation, jjajangmyeon’s always a solid choice. Can’t go wrong with a classic.”

The corners of your lips automatically tug upwards at the sound of his voice. Lowering your menu, you smile. “Hey, Jungkook.”

“Hey.” He’s wearing a white tee and grey sweats, a black beanie shoved on his head, the tips of his long dark hair sticking out as he grins back at you. If you didn’t already know his alarm clock so well, the yawn he fails to stifle and the slight puffiness to his eyes would’ve let you know he just rolled out of his bed.

Was it really just yesterday you’d woken up in that same bed?

A server approaches and orders are taken. You do go for the jjajangmyeon. So does Jungkook, along with several other meals. After the server drifts away, you drum your fingers on the counter, still slightly vexed about work, though your anger ebbs away the longer you glance at Jungkook.

“I’m going to meet up with Taehyung and Jimin,” he announces suddenly. “I’m not eating all that food myself.”

“I wasn’t judging.” You grin. Far be it from you to shame anyone with a big appetite.

“So… how was your breakfast yesterday? The one you practically ran out of my apartment to get to?” he teases. You twist on your stool to face him, and he does the same, his thighs bracketing yours.

You purse your lips in a mock pout. “I didn’t run!” You had, in fact, basically had to drag yourself out of his place in order to meet your friends on time. But he doesn’t need to know that. “But it was good.” He doesn’t need to know that he was pretty much the sole topic of discussion, either. “My friends really liked the photo we took. Of the antlers?”

He nods coolly at this information, but his cheeks flush. “I thought they might.” One of his hands rests lightly on your knee, thumb skimming over your jeans. Whatever annoyance was left boiling in your blood dissipates at his touch. “I’m glad I didn’t hold you up. As much as I wanted to.”

Your neck heats at the look in his eye, but before you can come up with a reply, the server reappears with your drinks, breaking the moment. You let your own hand fall on his knee, fingertips tapping out a random rhythm as you change the subject. “So… what did you do yesterday afternoon? I got back from brunch and you were gone.”

Jungkook cocks his head. “Oh yeah? You come looking for me?”

“No.” Yes. “I just didn’t hear any music all day, figured you were out.” It’s true that you realized he was out, once you knocked on his door to no reply. You hadn’t planned on going back over to his place, but when you saw his latest note, you might have wandered down the hallway just to let him know that yes, you’d had a wonderful time on your date.

Just to reassure him. No other reason.

“Mmm.” The hand on your knee moves just a fraction of an inch higher. The warmth of his palm bleeds through your clothes, drawing goosebumps as he rubs slightly. “Went to the gym. Grabbed some food. Came home and painted for a while.”

“Speaking of art…” What a smooth segue, you think wryly, “thank you for that sketch yesterday.” That heat is back, crawling up your face as you recall the portrait on his note. “I really don’t know how you make me look so good.”

He shakes his head. “That’s not me. What you see is you.” You drop your head shyly, but can’t help but roll your eyes at his proclamation, and he laughs. “Actually, I -” He breaks off.

“You what?”

He pauses for a second, wide eyes sweeping over your face, before he laughs again and clicks his tongue. “Nah. Nevermind.”

Once again, before you can pursue that topic of conversation any further, the server returns, bearing your food on a tray and Jungkook’s in several bags. Jungkook rises to his feet as you stir your noodles.

“I better get going. Taehyung gets cranky when he’s hungry.” His eyes crinkle as he smiles down at you. “Enjoy your lunch.”

“Thanks. You too, Kookie.”

If he’s going to blush every time you use that nickname, you’re never going to stop calling him that.

He starts to back away towards the door. “Don’t forget to text me.”

You won’t. Though you are going to give it a day or so, so you don’t seem too eager.

Even though you are.

“I won’t,” you promise as he nods and slips out into the midday sun. And then it’s just you, and your noodles, and the slight fluttering of your heart.

TUESDAY:

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:34): Hey you

(2:35): Hey yourself

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:36): How’s your week going?

(2:36): I’ve had better but I’ve also had worse, so… 🤷

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:37): Decidedly average, then? Perfect.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:37): Let me try to swing that pendulum towards great.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:38): Are you free Thursday night?

(2:39): No, I have a very busy night planned

(2:39): Face mask, maybe paint my nails, catch up on some shows

(2:40): I have no life, Jin. Of course I’m free. Would love to hang out

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:40): Not exactly playing hard to get, huh?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:40): I like that.

(2:41): I aim to please

(2:41): What did you have in mind?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:43): Well, I’ve been invited to a reception for Flavor - you know, the magazine?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:44): It’s one of those “30 under 30” types of parties where it’s half celebration, half networking event.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:44): It will likely be a stuffy room full of old men in ill-fitting suits trying to snap up new and burgeoning talent in an attempt to infuse some youthfulness back into their restaurants and other culinary ventures.

(2:45): Wow

(2:45): How could I say no to that?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:46): But there will be an open bar. And me, also in a suit. That fits.

(2:47): Okay, now I’m sold

(2:47): Is this like a fancy reception? Formalwear required?

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:48): Wear whatever you’re comfortable in.

(2:48): Hoodie and pajama shorts. Got it.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:49): As much as I would LOVE to see that…

(2:49): Fine. I’ll try to class it up a little.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:50): I didn’t say it had to be classy.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:50): Just perhaps not pajama shorts.

(2:51): Noted ✍

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:53): I’ll pick you up around 7?

(2:54): I’ll be here

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:54): Then it’s a date.

Seokjin 👨‍🍳 (2:55): Now, tell me more about these shorts. Exactly how short are we talking? 👀

By Wednesday, you’re about ready to throw your laptop out the window, if only doing so would stop the projects from piling up. It wouldn’t be so bad if your bosses bothered to give you a little kudos or even just a thank you for the extra work you’ve been putting in to get these reports done on time. Everything would still be terrible, but a little acknowledgement would go a long way to keeping you sane.

After a quick dinner, you decide to tackle a different problem weighing on your mind. What should you wear on your date tomorrow night? You’ve never attended something like this before. Should you pick out something dressy? Something professional? A bit of both?

Staring at your closet yields no answers. So you grab your phone.

(6:35): Question

(6:35): What does one wear to a reception slash networking event?

Bestie 😇 (6:36): You’re going to a networking event?

(6:36): Not for me

(6:37): Going with Jin

(6:37): He’s being recognized by Flavor magazine. I’m just arm candy

Bestie 😇 (6:38): Yeah you are

Bestie 😇 (6:38): Ummm what sort of vibe are you going for?

(6:39): Would “delicious” be too on the nose? Or “eat me”?

Bestie 😇 (6:40): I mean, Jin does love a pun. But if it’s a networking event, he might not appreciate being distracted if you walk in looking like a whole meal?

(6:41): I don’t know. From what he was saying, you might be surprised

Bestie 😇 (6:41): Oh god don’t tell me

Bestie 😇 (6:42): I’m covering my eyes right now

(6:42): Dork

(6:42): Help me pick out an outfit!

Bestie 😇 (6:44): Something simple, like that black dress of yours?

(6:44): I already wore that on our first date.

Bestie 😇 (6:45): Okayyyy

Bestie 😇 (6:45): That blue dress you wore to our engagement party?

(6:46): The one I spilled red wine on? Ended up in the trash

(6:46): Ughhhh

(6:46): Clothing is hard, dating is hard, I give up

Bestie 😇 (6:47): Oh my god, you’re falling apart over this?

Bestie 😇 (6:47): Do I need to come over and help you get it together?

(6:48): 🥺🥺🥺

Bestie 😇 (6:49): I’m on my way 💃

An hour later, there’s a knock on your door before Jennie lets herself in. She finds you lying on your bed, scrolling through for images of “classy cocktail reception outfits” in frustration.

“All right, the cavalry's arrived, let’s see what we’re working with.” She starts rummaging through your closet. The two of you go back and forth for a few minutes, pulling items out and pairing them together, offering them up for the other’s opinion, only to be met with a shaking head.

“You have an alarming number of hoodies,” she declares as she flips through your clothes. “Why do you need so many?”

“I don’t know. They’re just comfortable.” You tug self-consciously on the drawstrings of the hoodie you’re currently wearing. Jungkook’s hoodie. You’ve been wearing it for two days now. You fully intended on washing it yesterday with your laundry, so you could return it to him, but then you got chilly. And it’s so comfy. And smells like him.

You’ll give it back eventually.

“Okay, come on, there has to be something here,” Jennie mutters, reaching back as far as she can. She reemerges from the corner of your closet with a garment in hand. “What’s this?”

“Oh damn, I forgot I owned this.” It’s a white jumpsuit, with a simple sweetheart bodice and a gold belt cinching over the natural waist. Jisoo had convinced you to buy it a while ago, on a shopping trip fueled by a brunch involving way too much soju for so early in the day. There’s a reason it’s been hanging in the very back of your closet - it’s most emphatically not your style.

But then again, you’re not the type of person who usually attends events like this, so… maybe you should dress like someone other than yourself? Play pretend.

“Let me see how it looks on you!” Jennie chucks the jumpsuit at you and you change. She tips her head to the side as she makes you spin a few times. “I think this is it!”

“I think you might be right.” Studying your reflection in your floor-length mirror, you have to agree with her. The woman staring back at you looks polished. Perfectly put together. Like she belongs at a fancy cocktail hour. Plus, the high waist makes your legs look way longer than they actually are.

Your mirror self looks like she knows exactly what she’s doing. Suddenly, you wish it wasn’t pretend.

“Perfect! Then my work here is done.” Jennie pauses when she sees the look on your face. “Or maybe not?” She drops onto your bed. “What’s up, babe?”

“Nothing. I just…” You take off the jumpsuit, putting it back on its hanger and draping it over your mirror. “Work’s just been really frustrating lately. I mean, more so than usual. The last few weeks have been super stressful and I’m just about ready to pop.”

“Mmm. Sit and tell me all about it.” She makes herself comfy on your pillows and pats the space next to her. Lying down, you place your head in her lap, and proceed to vent everything that’s been building up over. The constant eleventh hour assignments. The lack of any recognition from your superiors for your efforts. The way your career seems to have stalled, or stopped completely.

“Are you thinking it’s time for a change?” Jennie asks when you’ve taken a breather. “You’ve always made it sound like you enjoy what you do, but do you think you want to try something else?”

You shrug. “I don’t think so. I do like my job, but I’m not sure if I want to keep working where I am.”

“Then it sounds like it’s time to look for an employer who will recognize all the hard work you put in. And actually reward you for it.”

“Yeah. I guess. I just…”

“Hate change? Love your routines? Want to burrow into a little hole at the thought of having to start over, and never come back out?”

You blink up at her. “Okay, it’s fucking creepy how well you read my mind sometimes.”

Jennie grins, booping your nose. “That’s what best friends do.” You scowl, and she laughs, pulling you into a hug. “Look, job hunting sucks, but so does working for a company where you feel trapped! If you’ve reached a dead end there, then it’s time to move on.”

“Ughhhh, I guess.” You lean your head on your shoulder. “Must you be so wise all the time?”

“Truly, it’s my burden to bear. Come on, cheer up, babe! You’ll figure this out! And you know I’ll help you as much as I can.”

“Eh, you’ve got enough to worry about right now.”

“Oh god, don’t remind me.” Jennie and Yoongi’s wedding is less than two weeks away. It feels like they’ve been planning it forever. Well, Jennie basically has been, pretty much since she informed you in college, mere days after meeting Yoongi, that he was The One.

Her obsession with romantic movies means that Jennie’s wedding plans borrow heavily from western-style ceremonies - like having bridesmaids, for example. As an only child, Jennie is rather spoiled by her doting parents, so they’re more than happy to do something a little less than traditional if it’s what she wants. And of course Yoongi goes along with anything Jennie dreams up. She’s got him wrapped around her stylishly manicured finger, which he’d be the first to admit.

But since you’ve been unusually busy with your own stuff lately, you haven’t really been paying attention to her wedding plans as closely as you were. You feel a pang of guilt, echoing the pain you felt the other day when you realized that you and Jisoo hadn’t hung out much lately. The last thing you want to be is that friend who is so wrapped up in herself that she doesn’t know what’s going on with everyone else.

“Well, maid of honor, reporting for duty.” With a mock salute, you grin. “What do you need from me right now?”

“Ask me again on Saturday. At the moment, we’re kind of in the calm before the storm? But it’ll be a different story this weekend.” She nudges you. “What you can do right now is distract me by telling me about this date with Jin!”

“I’ll be sure to text you as soon as I get home and give you all the sordid details.”

“Oh god, please feel free to save some of the details for yourself.” Jennie shudders. “I don’t want to be standing at the altar next week and glance at Jin and forget my vows because I’m suddenly thinking about his filthy mouth. Or other parts.”

“Suit yourself,” you grin. “But I guess this means I need to rewrite my maid of honor toast.”

“Is it too late to ask Jisoo to be my maid of honor?”

“You really think her toast would be any less dirty?!”

The two of you dissolve into giggles, and you fall back onto your pillows, feeling lighter than you have all week. Jennie’s right - you’ll figure out what to do about work. At least you know that if you need help, you won’t have to do it alone.

Upon stepping into the reception on Thursday night, it dawns on you that Jin might have undersold it just a little. First of all, he neglected to mention that it’s being held at Blue Side, one of the swankiest restaurants downtown. A place that’s way too rich for your blood, which is why you’ve never been there before. Secondly, it’s true that there are plenty of old men amongst the attendees, but the average age is definitely closer to your own, and the energy in the banquet room is absolutely buzzing - a far cry from the “stuffy” atmosphere he predicted.

Nervously, you smooth the bodice of your jumpsuit with one hand, clutching Jin’s arm with the other as he makes a beeline for the bar. It seems silly for you to feel anxious here, since you know that none of the people in this room are remotely interested in you. And yet, you are anyway. Jennie’s advice about looking for a new job has you wondering if maybe tonight could be practice for some networking of your own. The only drawback is, you’ve never been much for talking to strangers, so you’re glad Jin’s first stop is to grab some of that free booze he promised you.

Jin flags down the bartender and orders you both a drink. He leans against the bar as he smiles at you. “Did I mention how gorgeous you look tonight?”

“You did, but please do keep saying it.”

His amused honking spurs laughter of your own. “Fair enough. What about me?” He angles his face away from you, striking an exaggerated pose. You laugh again, but can’t deny how ridiculously handsome he looks tonight. When he’d shown up at your door, dressed in a raven black suit with matching silk shirt underneath, hair artfully tousled, wire-rimmed glasses on again, you first thought was, holy hell, he’s gorgeous.

Your second thought was to hope he tips his tailor well. And your third thought was highly Not Suitable For Work, or anywhere else for that matter.

After pretending to study him carefully, you give him an, “Ehhh,” and flap your hand back and forth. His eyes widen as you giggle. “Oh, relax, you know you look fantastic.”

“Hmmph. Never hurts to hear it.” He pouts, but you see the glimmer in his deep brown eyes, and can’t suppress another grin.

“Also fair.” Stepping closer, you press a kiss to his cheek without a second thought. The tips of his ears darken a little. “I just didn’t want you to get a big head about it. Need to keep you grounded, before everyone else here starts kissing up to you.”

He wraps an arm around your waist as the bartender slides your drinks to you. “Ah, I see. Are you worried you’ll have to fight for my affections tonight? Don’t be.” He pauses to take a sip of his wine. “The only one I want kissing me tonight is you.”

“Just kissing?”

He winks, and your teeth bite into your lower lip as he licks his. “I guess we’ll see how the night goes.” You stir your cocktail as he dips his head, brushing his mouth by your ear. “Especially if you’re a good girl.”

His breath tickles your ear, words sending a shiver down your spine. Memories of your last date play in your mind. You’d very much enjoy the chance to show him just how good you can be.

Drinks in hand, Jin leads you over to where some very appetizing-looking food has been laid out, and you quickly assemble yourself a plate of snacks. By the time you’ve started on a second plate, you’ve already been introduced to a dozen other guests, all of whom politely repeat your name and then immediately ignore you, dominating the conversation completely.

Jin, for what it’s worth, keeps trying to pull you back in, but the others aren’t interested and always end up steering things back to business. And as the night wears on, you stop trying to engage Jin in any conversations of your own, since you’re constantly interrupted by others. You can’t really blame them - who wouldn’t want to talk to this handsome, funny, incredibly talented man by your side? At least he’s sticking close to you, always with a hand on your back or an arm looped around your waist. Every little touch makes your skin buzz.

By your third plate, you’ve nearly given up on the idea of practicing your social skills, when you spot a familiar face standing at the bar. As several executives from cooking network Nosh corner Jin, you excuse yourself and make your way over to her.

“Wendy?”

The woman turns around, a radiant smile lighting up her face. She exclaims your name. “I thought that was you! How are you?”

It’s been several years, but your former coworker is still as bubbly and kind as you remember. Wendy had been one of the first friends you’d made when you’d started, but she left the company not long after that. She’s just as gorgeous as ever tonight, lithe frame draped in a chic black dress, accented perfectly with gold earrings and a matching bracelet. If you in your outfit look like you belong at this reception, she looks like she’s running it.

The bartender brings you another cocktail as you two catch up. Before long, you find yourself bending Wendy’s ear about your frustrations with work.

“Believe me, I understand!” she consoles you, patting your arm. “Why do you think I left? Chan and Associates is a great training ground, but once you reach a certain level, there’s really nowhere left to go! And you can only do other people’s work for so long before you’re ready to run out the door.”

You nod. “Yes! Exactly!” Taking a swig of your drink, you gaze over at where Jin is still deep in discussion with the network execs. “So you said you’re working in entertainment these days? That must be such a wildly different environment to work in.”

“Yes! My firm has several clients that include television networks and a couple streaming platforms. It’s great. I’m here with some execs from one of the streamers tonight, technically on the clock in case anyone wants to discuss possible investment strategies, but between you and me? I just could not resist the lure of free drinks.”

“I get it.” You clink your glasses together.

“But listen, there are so many unexpected perks with this job! Like travel. Especially right now, this platform’s taking a big swing towards shows that explore local cuisines, and I’ve gotten to go on several trips already. A few were even international.” She rattles off a list of countries you’ve never been to, and your envy grows. The only travel you’ve ever done for your job was to attend several dull conferences, all within the confines of your city.

“Wow, that sounds amazing.”

“Oh yeah!” Wendy nods. “It’s been incredible. And also, the actual benefits themselves are fabulous, too.” As she continues to extol, rattling off a list of impressive benefits your company does not offer, your jealousy grows, until you can’t help but ask a very important question.

“So, um, would you know if your firm is hiring right now, or…”

Wendy digs through her clutch and pulls out a business card. “I don’t think we are at the moment, but send me your resume anyway! I’ll keep you in mind if I hear anything, and I can also pass along some names of some people who helped me get this job - a few industry headhunters whom you should definitely get to know!”

“Wendy, you’re the best. Thank you so much!” You turn her card over in your hands, fingers running over the embossed letters. Fancy. “I will absolutely email you first thing tomorrow.”

Wendy glances at her watch. “I think I might bounce. The longer these things go on, and the drunker people get, the less I’m usually needed. Listen - keep your head up at Chan, okay? Hopefully you won’t have to mark time for much longer!”

“From your lips to the universe’s ears, Wendy.” With a hug, she leaves.

You stare at her card again, lost in thought. Running into Wendy definitely feels like a rather serendipitous moment. It seems like the universe might have just dropped an opportunity directly into your lap. Could it really be this easy to escape your current situation?

Jin materializes beside you, placing his empty glass on the counter. “Did I just see you take someone’s card?”

“Yes! Former coworker. Possible new job lead.” You slip the card into your clutch before you accidentally leave it on the bar. It could be your ticket out. Better not lose it.

“Oh, I didn’t realize you were looking for another job.”

“Yeah, that’s probably because I am just kinda realizing now that I want one.” Tapping the clutch, you grin. “And this might be the start.”

“Well, congratulations. I’m glad that something good came out of this evening for you. ” He gives you a soft smile, and the butterflies in your stomach take flight. “Thank you for coming with me. I know this has probably been pretty boring for you, and to be honest, there were a few conversations earlier that nearly put me to sleep, too, but… having you here made my night so much better.”

With a shy smile, you nod. The sincerity in his gaze has those butterflies all riled up again. And his tone reminds you of what he said at dinner the other night, about wanting to share his life with someone.

You take a slow sip of your drink, giving the butterflies time to calm down. “I’m really glad I came, too. But what about you? Has anything good come out of all that elbow rubbing tonight? Those execs from Nosh sure seemed to have a lot to say.”

Jin beams. “I don’t want to jinx anything, but…” He jerks his chin, indicating for you to lean closer. “Nosh might be interested in producing my show! They said something about adding it to the network lineup in the fall. That is, if my agent and I can put together a strong pitch for their upfronts in the next few weeks.”

You smack him lightly on his solid chest. “Jin! That’s fantastic!”

He laughs, grabbing your hand. “I know! I don’t want to get my hopes up too much, since it was just one conversation, but a network budget would really improve everything - I could do so much more!” He slings an arm around your waist, tucking you into his side. “I think maybe we should celebrate, no?”

“Hmmm.” You pretend to consider. “What do you have in mind?”

He glances around covertly before pulling you flush against him, dipping his head to brush your lips with his. “Maybe we go back to my place? I have some champagne in the fridge. We could have some dessert.” One of his hands ghosts down your ass, giving a light squeeze that makes you squeak into his mouth. “If you’re still hungry.”

Oh yes, you’re suddenly very hungry. “We should absolutely do that.”

“So you’re ready to get out of here?”

You definitely are, especially with the way his long fingers are stroking over your hips. However, you are also full of several cocktails and about ready to burst. “Yes! I just need to run to the ladies room first. Be right back.”

At the sink in the restroom, you take a moment to collect yourself. Although your head is spinning a little from Jin’s touch, your reflection still looks so put together. Maybe, after your run-in with Wendy tonight, it won’t be long before you feel just as confident as your mirror self looks.

As you cross through the club, trying to figure out the least awkward way to ask Jin if you’ve been a good girl tonight, you discover that he’s no longer alone at the bar. The Nosh execs are back.

“Hey,” Jin greets you warmly when you reach his side, “you remember Hongjoong-ssi and San-ssi from earlier, right?”

You nod politely. “Of course.”

“They just invited us to join them for a nightcap,” Jin informs you.

“We’d like to discuss our idea in further detail,” the exec named San adds. “We’d love to treat you as well, if you’d care to join us?”

You smile as brightly as you can, but your heart sinks. As excited as you are for Jin and this potential deal, you very much want to leave this reception and all this talk of careers behind. But it would be selfish of you to insist that he take you home. You can’t do that to him, knowing how much this could affect his career.

You also have zero interest in sitting at another bar in silence while a conversation carries on around you. It’s already getting late, especially for a homebody like you, and you’re tired, the alcohol in your veins slowly completing its alchemy, transforming into drowsiness. If you’re not going to do anything, uh, stimulating with Jin right now, you’re at danger of falling asleep.

So with a gentle smile, you shake your head. “Actually, I think I’m going to call it a night. Tomorrow morning is going to come way sooner than I’d like.” You nod at both of the execs again. “But thank you for the offer.” Turning to Jin, you tug him away from the other men slightly. “Raincheck on the celebration?”

“Of course,” he replies. “We’ll celebrate some other night. You know my door’s always open.” He pauses. “Do you want me to wait with you for a ride?

“No, you go ahead! I’ll be fine.” Jin pulls you in for a kiss, but it’s too quick, lips barely meeting yours, and your heart sinks a little further as he and the others depart.

The butterflies go still again while you wait for your ride to arrive.

On the ride back to your apartment, whatever elation you felt after seeing Wendy quickly dissolves. Staring out the window as the city lights zoom by, you start to feel your frustration rising again. But it’s nothing to do with work anymore.

No, the more you think about it, the more you’re bummed that Jin didn’t come home with you. Tonight didn’t feel like much of a date. By the end of the night, all you wanted was some alone time with Jin. A chance to actually talk to him. Among other things. His teasing comments and lingering touches all evening worked all too well on you. You wanted that dessert he mentioned, even if you didn’t know exactly what he had in mind. You were pretty sure it would involve at least one orgasm.

Your phone rests on the seat beside you. Picking it up, you open your messages, and scroll until you see the last text from Jungkook.

All week long, you’ve done this. Open your phone, pull up your messages, find his name. And then close the app without typing a word. Each time afraid that you’re being too impatient, too eager. The opposite of light and casual. But it’s been several days now, so why not text him?

Yet as your thumbs tap the screen, you pause. Would it be weird to see if Jungkook’s around when you get back? The two of you could hang out… but would you just hang out? Can you control yourself around him, especially when you’re feeling a little pent up and dissatisfied?

Sure you can.

Maybe.

Okay, probably not. So maybe it’s not a good idea. Because how would Jungkook feel knowing you’re trying to hook up with him after Jin got you worked up?

Your night at Dionysus was as close to blurring the lines between the two of them as you’d like to get.

With a sigh, you tuck your phone into your clutch. Out of sight, out of mind.

Ha. Right.

Turns out it doesn’t matter what you decided, because when you get back to your place, Jungkook’s apartment is quiet. His schedule seems to vary during the week, with only the sound of music thumping through the wall ever letting you know if he’s around or not.

Changing into a soft oversized t-shirt, you go through your nightly routine, getting ready for bed. By all rights, you should be exhausted. It’s nearly midnight. On a typical Thursday, you’d be asleep by now. And all that socializing combined with the alcohol should have run you right down. But once you actually crawl into your sheets, sleep is nowhere to be found. Turns out you’re still wound up. Still frustrated.

Time for a release.

Reaching into your nightstand, you pull out your favorite toy. It’s been a while since you’ve needed Lil Jackson Wang’s help, thanks to your suddenly jam-packed dating life, but the longer you lie here, unable to sleep, still electrified from Jin’s words, his touch, the more your desperation builds. With a click, Lil Jackson whirs to life.

Gently, you run the vibrator along your slit, letting the soft hum clear your mind. It doesn’t take long for your arousal to build, and you slip the thick curve of the toy between your wet folds, pretending it’s Jin’s long fingers finding their way inside of you.

Or Jungkook’s. Or maybe both?

Oh fuck, Lil Jackson slides so easily inside you as you suddenly imagine both Jin and Jungkook are here with you. Lying on either side, mouths sucking at your breasts, their hands diving between your legs. Good thing Jungkook’s at work, so you don’t have to stifle yourself worrying about the thin walls, because you don’t want to. You let yourself moan loudly, feeling all that anxiety and irritation that was welling up inside you disappear as that familiar knot in your gut begins to tighten.

“Fuck,” you groan after a minute, grabbing your phone and opening an app. One of your favorite things about this toy is the way it pairs to music, syncing the vibrations to the beat. But before you can decide on which track you want Lil Jackson to dance to tonight, your phone suddenly buzzes in your hand, startling you.

Jungkook 🦌 (11:49): need a hand?

This time your “Fuck!” is a yelp. Apparently Jungkook is home. Switching your toy off, you freeze, not sure how to respond, heart still pounding from the shock of the text alert.

(11:50): I didn’t know you were home

Jungkook 🦌 (11:50): yeah. strained a muscle at dance practice today

Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): was just sleeping it off

Well, that explains why his place was so quiet.

(11:51): Oh shit, I’m sorry. Does it hurt?

Jungkook 🦌 (11:51): only when i move

Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): heh

Jungkook 🦌 (11:52): i’ll be fine, just gotta stay off it for a day or so

(11:52): Oh good

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): yeah

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): so

Jungkook 🦌 (11:53): anyway, don’t let me interrupt you

He’s a little too late for that. Lil Jackson currently sleeps on your thigh, though you’re still pretty wet, and still needing that release.

Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’m not making you uncomfortable am i?

Jungkook 🦌 (11:54): i’ll give you your privacy

Jungkook 🦌 (11:55): i can put on some music if it helps

That gives you an idea. You press the Call button.

“Hey,” he breathes softly when he answers.

“Hi. Sorry if I woke you.”

“‘Don’t be.” Jungkook sighs. “Didn’t mean to stop you. I’m sorry if I made this weird.”

“You didn’t.” Not really. The thought of him lying there, listening to you is kind of hot. Now that you’ve recovered from your initial shock, anyway. “I just got back from a date with Jin. And couldn’t sleep, so…”

“Ah.” There’s a long pause, and you wonder what’s going through his head, before his raspy voice comes on the line again. “Well, I hate the idea that I’m keeping you up… or keeping you from getting what you need…”

He’s setting you up perfectly. “Jungkook. Listen. Do you, uh, still want to give me a hand?”

A quick inhale. “I’d love to. But I’m not sure if I can walk over there right now, so-” He trails off as you quickly send him two more texts. “What’s this?”

“Um, you should download that app. And that’s the login info.”

“Login for wh…. Oh.”

You gaze at the ceiling, waiting for him, a flutter of excitement coursing through you. Pleased with yourself for this brilliant notion. Earlier, you were worried about blurring the lines between the two men, seeing one after the other. But this? This is not that.

This is an electronic loophole.

(Or so you tell yourself.)

Lil Jackson buzzes to life.

“Is it working?”

“Oh, yes!” you answer effusively as the toy in your hand pulsates.

“Any requests?”

“For songs to pair it to?”

“This thing pairs to music?” His voice is a little faint, so you assume he’s scrolling through the app. After a minute, “Nice & Slow” starts playing through your phone. The vibrations shift, matching the beat of the music.

“Ooh, Usher. Good choice.”

“I thought you’d like that one. But what I meant was, is there a certain speed or rhythm I should use, or…”

You grin, teasing him, “Uh-uh. I’m not telling you anything. You have to figure it out for yourself.”

Somehow you can hear a matching smile in his reply. “And how am I supposed to know if I’ve found the magic setting?”

“By how loud I get.” Might as well put the thin walls to good use.

“Fuck, this is gonna be fun,” Jungkook groans. “One last question. Do you want me to keep talking?”

“God yes. Please. Keep talking to me, Kookie.”

“Whatever you want, jagiya.”

The butterflies stir again. But Lil Jackson stills.

“Aw, why?!”

He laughs. “Hold on, you gotta set the stage for me. Tell me what I’d see if I were over there right now.”

“You mean like, what am I wearing?” You glance down at your stretched out t-shirt. “Um… I guarantee that whatever you’re imagining is way sexier than what I have on.”

“I promise you that’s not true. I remember how you looked in my hoodie. You make anything look sexy.”

If anyone else said that, you’d assume they were just feeding you a line. But for some reason, when he says it, you believe it, and your face warms.

“Hold on a sec.” You quickly yank your shirt off before lying back down. “Okay, so… if you were here, you would just see me on my bed. No clothes, only me, lying here on my sheets.” You pause, wondering if that’s enough. Deciding it’s not. “Thighs spread. Like I’m waiting for you.”

There’s a light hiss. “Fuck, jagi, you say you’re not an artist, but you paint a pretty picture.” The toy starts to vibrate again, and you grip it before it shakes off your leg. “What else?”

“Ummm… I have my phone in one hand and Li - the toy in the other.”

“Huh. So if I told you that I wanted you to drag your fingertips down that pretty little pussy of yours, and tell me how wet you are, you couldn’t do that?”

Jesus, the mouth on this man. From zero to one hundred real quick. Your clit throbs. “Fuck. No.”

“That’s not gonna work, then. Can you put me on speaker?”

You do as instructed.

“All right. Now. Take your free hand, jagi. And tell me what I want to know.”

Lil Jackson is still pulsing in your left hand as you take your right and draw a line down your folds. You’re so slick, arousal gathering on your fingertips as you speak into the phone on the pillow by your head. “Mmm, I’m already so wet, Kookie.”

“Got yourself worked up earlier?”

“A little bit.” You close your eyes, remembering your fantasy. “I - I was thinking about you.”

Another sharp inhale. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Imagining you were here. Touching me.” With your eyes closed, it’s so easy to tell him these things. And even easier to imagine he’s right here next to you, murmuring in your ear.

“Jagi. Take the toy and press it against yourself.” His voice gets lower as he commands you, a husky timbre that has you clenching around nothing as you listen. “Just brush it against your lips.”

The pattern changes to a steady thrumming as you swirl the toy through your slick folds.

“How does that feel?”

“Feels good,” you sigh, hips rocking slightly as you roll the vibrator up and down.

“Good,” he hums. “Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything you want, Kookie, just don’t turn off the toy again.”

He chuckles, but it’s not his usual high giggle, it’s a dark rumble that sends a rash of goosebumps rippling down your neck. You haven’t even touched your breasts, but your nipples are pebbling as you begin to pant. “I’m pretending I’m there, too. And that’s my tongue, licking that delicious pussy of yours. I can practically taste you right now. Can you feel me, baby?”

“Jungkook,” you moan, hips still canting forward as you press the toy harder against your core, seeking more friction.

“I want you to rub that little clit of yours now. Because I want to wrap my lips around it. Let me suck on it a little, just the way you like.” Moving Lil Jackson as he demands, your breath catches in your throat as the vibrator shifts again, the beat changing as “All the Time” by Jeremih starts. A personal favorite. “Fuck, I wanna taste you so bad, jagi. I wanna bury my tongue inside you. Can you feel me slipping inside?”

The curve of the toy plunges between your folds and you whine as it brushes against your walls. “God, yes, I feel you!”

“Mmm, keep going. Wanna fuck you with it. Go on, baby. Help me fuck you.”

You thrust the toy into your tight cunt, wailing helplessly, fucking yourself just the way you like. Just the way you imagine he’d fuck you, that thick cock of his filling you up, stretching you out, making you his.

“Fuck, Jungkook!”

“That’s right, jagi, let everyone know who’s making you feel like this. I can’t get enough of your moans, let me hear them.”

At this point, your wanton mewling is probably going to wake your other neighbors, but you don’t care. All you can picture is Jungkook above you, dark eyes holding yours as he strokes into you again and again.

“I know I’m making you feel good because I can feel your thighs squeezing around me. Fuck, jagi, I wanna feel those soft thighs under my hands, wanna pin them down so you can’t move. Want you to lie there and take it. Do you want that?”

You want everything he has to give. “Yes, please!”

He laughs. “So polite. Let me give you more, jagi. Put the toy inside you and leave it there.”

You know exactly what he wants you to do. Lil Jackson is designed for hands-free use, the two curved ends fitting perfectly over your clit and against your g-spot. You nestle the toy securely and gasp as the buzzing increases.

“All right, baby. Now take those hands and play with your tits for me. Since I’m not there to do it myself, I need you to do it for me.”

It’s getting harder to think straight, the constant stimulation on those sensitive spots distracting you, but you still manage to follow Jungkook’s instructions, running your hands up your stomach to fondle your breasts, imagining his strong hands caressing you.

“Let me roll my fingers over those gorgeous tits while I suck on that clit some more. I’m not stopping until you’re cumming on my face.”

The knot in your gut grows as you rub your hands over your breasts, kneading, pinching your nipples hard enough to make your back arch off the mattress. You’re no stranger to your own touch, but it’s overwhelming tonight, especially with Jungkook’s filthy mouth running nonstop lewd commentary in your ear. You can feel your peak approaching and you want it so bad.

So you beg.

“God, Kookie, I wanna cum! Please, please make me cum!”

There’s a hitch in his breath. Tipping your head as close to the phone as you can, you think you detect something in the background.

“Are y-you,” you stutter, “fuck, are you touching yourself?”

“Yeah. You think I can lie here and listen to you touching yourself the way I want to and not be hard as a fucking rock?” He hisses, and the sound shoots straight to your tight core.

“Fuck, Kookie!” This time, when you say his name, Jungkook lets out a needy whimper. You remember all the sweet little noises he made the other night. You want to be the one to make him sound like that.

He switches up the pattern, and you twist a nipple between your finger and thumb, other hand flexing in your sheets. The cadence no longer matches the tempo of the music. Jungkook’s taken back control.

“Do you remember that night when you came to Paradise?”

Do you remember it?? How could you possibly forget?

He takes your moan for the affirmative it is.

“When you ran into me in the hallway, earlier in the night?” Jungkook asks. “Do you know why I had to run back into my apartment like that?”

Not thinking, you shake your head, too wrapped up in the quivering beat between your legs to remember that he can’t see you. But he doesn’t seem to need your answer, as he continues on.

“Because of what you did to me.”

“What… what did I do?”

“The same thing you’re doing right now. Turning me on.” Another groan hits your ear, before his voice rumbles again. “I couldn’t leave for work like that. I was late because I had to stop and jerk off. You in that tight little dress… fuck, jagiya,” he growls. “You drive me fucking insane.”

“Kookie!” you gasp, keening at the intensity as it climbs again, getting stronger. “Oh fuck, please don’t stop, I’m so close!”

His breathing is ragged now, strangled grunts coming through the phone to match your unrestrained moans, and somehow you know he’s just as close as you are. “Ah, fuck, jagi, if I were there right now, I’d fuck you so good, baby, ah, I wanna feel you, I want you so bad!” The last word is an unrestrained whine, a deeply frustrated sound that cracks something wide open inside you, and you sob desperately in reply.

“God, yes, fuck me, Kookie, please, I want you I want you I -” Head tossing back, your mouth falls open in an impassioned cry as you reach the peak and tumble over the edge into euphoria. The vibrations don’t cease, even as your walls clench and your clit shudders beneath the toy’s continued quaking, but you can’t form the words to ask Jungkook to turn it off, surrendering to the feeling reverberating through you.

There’s a choked sob on the other end of the line, a stuttering cry that resonates through the wall, and then he pulls you from your high, bringing you back to the moment.

The vibrations finally stop.

Neither of you speak for a few minutes. Your breathing begins to even out as you cradle your phone, listening to the soothing rhythm of his soft exhalations. No thoughts. Just in, out.

Your eyelids droop.

Jungkook finally speaks. “Are you falling asleep on me again?”

“...yes.”

He laughs, a tiny giggle that makes your lips lift. “I guess I can’t get upset since that was the goal here, right? To help you sleep?”

“Yeah,” you sigh, rolling onto your side. “And it worked like a fucking charm. I owe you one.”

“Gonna remember that.”

“You better.”

“Go to sleep, jagiya.”

You hum, eyes already closing. “Night, Kookie.”

When your alarm goes off a few hours later, there are messages waiting for you.

Jungkook 🦌 (1:03): i’m keeping that app. and i work tonight.

Jungkook 🦌 (1:03): want to test its range?

Masterlist 💜 Find me on AO3 💜

Taglist 1: @mwitsmejk; @claricedelune; @teresaisla; @sadxaries; @httpfandxms; @lavienjin; @lovelyfreshfestival; @shadowmoon21; @bangtannoonalvg; @yoonchrisgull; @misohime; @btswithlov; @dasexydevitt13; @nabiolive; @travelleratheart101; @hannahbee12719ficrecs; @reliablemitten; @thataquariusreader; @rumpucis; @moonchild1; @helenazbmrskai; @uselessmags; @kissme-ornot; @kirapaige32; @loosewindmill; @synnfulqt; @motscult; @vantxx95; @missbickerbocker; @pperpetuum; @angellife133; @a-beautiful-resident-from-hell; @akane82; @oneposhgirl; @shesoldbutcute; @bobbyboops; @fairy-jaykay: @itsinherited; @hellojeongkook; @jinsearthh; @dntaewithluv; @moonacholy; @music-makes-me-shine; @tucajitadepandora; @schizopasithea; @theestrangeddreamer; @po-tae-tos; @jikookiekosmos; @byunniebaekhyunnie

If your URL is italicized, that means tumblr won't let me tag you! 😤 Check your settings!

#jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #ksmutclub #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #ficscafe #btshoneyhive #thebtswritersclub #btscarnivalnet #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts smut #jeon jungkook smut #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #possumswrite #fic: paradise

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littledollll · 1 year

Note

🕊️🕊️

More stalking cause I’m quite an emotional wreck today so me and emery are re reading your fics

Another prompt~ r having anxiety and needing luci to come make them feel better. (Self indulgent fic I’m really struggling today )~ very tired shy anon🕊️

#shy anon

Where’s my angel?

(Little angel universe, side fic)

Lucifer Morningstar x little!angel!reader

A/n: ya boy has a 3 hour car ride back home and I fell asleep 4 times writing this, If you see random spams of “jjjjjjjjjj” it’ll be gone tomorrow I’m taking a nap now.

To answer your question: I was in a server where the term “little one” was sooo overused and it tired me out when it was used on me so I figured it maybe did the same to other tinys (I was right) + It was just a special term for me and my tiny ones so it was a little different form the usual and “exclusive” to us:)

I can’t think of any warnings but then again I can’t rly think of anything right now so scream at me in the comments if I should add any.

Requested prompts: selective mute, anxiety and emery

Officially taking duty as hells messenger was your choice, you just wanted to feel useful though Lucifer reminded you time and time again that just your company and love was more than enough, even mazikeen agreed claiming that since you came around everything’s been a lot smoother, happy Lucifer means an (ironically) happy hell. Yet you wanted to do more than just- exist.

So when you insisted to take some role to help around Lucifer assigned you as a messenger, really all you had to do was (as the name suggests) bring and deliver messages across realms, it wasn’t that difficult most of the time. But then came days like this. You woke up small, you didn’t really know why but admittedly you didn’t always need a reason. The problem wasn’t that you slipped, it was the time you did.

You panicked, you had work to do but you couldn’t leave like this.

The more you submerged yourself in your panicked thoughts the less you could actually think, you were already small and your anxiety was making you slip further. You couldn’t even panic anymore, everything just left you. That tingling feeling that ran through your spine making you shrink from inside out. It was enough of an indication that there was no chance you’d slip out, and when you noticed you were alone you felt like crying, you cuddled up to Emery and October, October being the new addition to your piles of stuffies, a gift from Lucifer.

Nuzzling your face into the soft fur, you considered running around the kingdom until you found your Luci, but your anxiety was stronger, convincing you you’ve already used up enough of their time, they have a whole realm to run, you could handle one day alone like you had before. You hid under your mountains of blankets with embery and October, curling up and opting to just sleep the time away.

Lucifer of course noticed your absence, you’d usually be excited to get up and start working, they found your search for a mission unnecessary, but it made you happy, how could they take that away? They went to your little room, guessing that if you wished to be alone you’d be there, yet you weren’t, they made their way to your shared room. “Am I crazy or did the amount of blankets here double?” They asked into the air when they spotted your silhouette under the blankets.

You giggled thinking you were so sneaky and they obviously couldn’t hear you. “Greetings mr. silhouette, im looking for a little angel, very very tiny, I swore I heard an adorable giggle around this area, have you seen them?” They waited a beat and you held your breath so they wouldn’t spot you. “Huh, I guess mr silhouette doesn’t speak. Hmmm. Let’s see.. I checked under the bed, in the closet and behind the furniture, where could my little dove possibly be!” You giggled again, putting your finger over your mouth and very (not) discreetly said “shhhh” to both October and Emery.

“There it is again! I know it’s you tiny, and I’ll find you! If you don’t show yourself this instant I will tickle you for all eternity when I do!” You gasped. Quickly scrambling to pull the mess of blankets and peeking your eyes out while you held the covers over the rest of your face. “No way you’ve been there this whole time” you quickly nodded. “Lies! No way, I don’t believe it.” You pulled Your stuffies up from under the blanket as proof.

They glared at your stuffies and looked back at you. “They are such traitors” you shook your head pointing at them. “Oh only to me? I see how it is.” They moved over to the bed pulling the three of you into their arms. Immediately you relaxed into their hold. “What happened today, little dove? You didn’t tell me you slipped.” “didn wan bother..” Lucifer placed a kiss to the tip of your nose. “You could never. You know how much I love you and your company , tiny one.”

#cg! sandman lucifer #sandman agere #shy anon love page #🕊️ anon #gwendoline christie #the sandman #lucifer sandman #sandman lucifer x reader #lucifer morningstar the sandman #Little angel (Lucifer x little!reader)

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montysstuffs · 2 years

Text

🍒 Cherry Pie Oneshot🍒

Server!FemReader x Dbf!Frank castle

AN: Okay you guys, it’s the real thing. So i know Frank doesn't have a southern accent, but i HC that Sam does. But Sam, I don't think, is as assertive as Frank. AND they are the same actor. So, in my brain, i think he's got a little southern in him. Also, yes yes. I know I suck at transitions. And I didn’t know how to end bc it. It’s only been proofread by me and corrected by me, but if there’s anything else, please tell me. So here ya gooooooo

Warning: Smoking, thigh riding, oral (m receiving), degrading, breeding kink, blasphemy (kinda?), fluff at the end (lowkey)

Minors DNI

Summary: You're having a bad day at work and Frank stops by on your break.

You were tired. Tired of the constant ridiculing. Tired of needing to put up with rude people. Tired of getting treated like a nobody. Sure, the customers that came through had nothing by good things to say about you. Always singing your praises. But no matter if it’s 6 praises, that 1 rude customer will always overshadow the good ones. You were right at your wits end when your manager said to just go on a break. It seemed like a weight was lifted off your shoulders as you clocked out.

As you were leaving, you eyed the irate customer. They were smiling and giggling with your manager like they really hadn’t just berated you not only 5 minutes ago.

“Bullshit,” you mutter under your breath as you push open the double doors. Hoping to get a breath of fresh air, you are instead greeted with a chest like a solid wall.

“Heeey sorry princess. Didn’t mean to run into ya,” Frank flashes a sweet smile through his full beard. “Oh, it’s fine, Frankie. I was just leaving,” you couldn’t hide the tears that began to well up in the corners of your eyes. You brush past him in a swift blur. Trying to avoid any and all confrontation. Frank isn’t gonna give up that easily. “Woah woah woah. Slow ya roll, kid,” he follows not too far behind into the parking lot. “Just leave me alone Frank. I wanna leave,”

“We’ll where ya gonna go? You gonna walk back to your house?” You look past his shoulder, into the hustle and bustle of busy traffic. Sighing in defeat, you make a beeline to his pickup truck, “that’s right. Now maybe you can open your mouth and talk to me.”

You slam the car door behind you in frustration. Frank, closes door soon after. Furrowing his brows, he looks you up and down. “Look at me.” You kept your arms crossed against your chest. Not faltering a bit. His voice became louder with authority, “I said-“ he grabs both of your cheeks in his large paw-like hand and commands your attention, “LOOK. AT. ME.” You obey him, though forced. “Now don’t you go slamming my door like it’s a box Chevy,” his country sayings always did amuse you. But not right now. You looked at him, once again, in defeat. Completely unaware of your own tears that had begun to fall on your way there. Your eyes look tired. Almost as if one more inconvenience could make you break. When you speak, he has to bend a bit to listen to you, “sorry, Frankie.” Such a meek and soft voice. “Hey doll face, come here. I’m sorry I got mad at you.”

You spent the rest of your break telling Frank about the rude guests that you encounter. “Why don’t you just quit, baby? You don’s deserve to get treated like that.” You look down at your crumb and milkshake covered shirt that you were fidgeting with, “I’ve just gotten used to it, I guess.” Frank pulls you into a firm, but warm hug. The low rumbles of his laughing brought a small smile to your face. A little ray of sunshine in a cloudy day. “That’s not a good thing that you’re used to it, baby. But I know you’re resilient.”

This was nice. You stayed there for a few moments longer. Lingering in Frank's warmth. By the time you both had broken the hug, it was time for you to go back into work.

The rest of your shift had gone a lot smoother once frank sat in your section. He threw daggers at the aformentioned rude customer every chance he got. Only breaking eye contact when you come back to him with the cherry pie he was supposed to pick up for your dad; sitting down an extra slice of pie with it. Frank was an easy man. Just feed him and he is putty in your hands. He couldnt help but enjoy watching you work. You were the sweetest thing known to man. You were buzzing about in the cutest way. Asking everyone if they needed anything, whether they needed refills, taking orders, etc. When it came to boys your age, it was borderline flirting. Your voice carried through the diner as you giggleed at their stupid jokes and advances. Franks knows that its just an act. You just want your money. But that doesnt make him any less jealous.

You were fluttering here and there. Never staying in one spot for too long. Until it got to his table. You just so happen to always need to bend over to wipe a table. Giving him a teasing look up your skirt. He wanted to see more, but tilting his head would be a little too obvious. He just decidded to be grumpy and eat his pie. He was a messy eater. The cherry filling was covering his fingers in a sickly sweet coating. He smirks to himself, thinking of a way to get back at you twice as hard, but with only one motion. Once you make eye contact, he places his thumb into his mouth. Sucking on the filling as he maintained his hungry stare. You could feel the heat pool into your lower stomach. The arousal setting in with just one motion. It didnt take long for you to close up the store and head out with him.

You were starting up a wildfire behind his half-lidded eyes. You were panting and whimpering at the friction his sweatpants were causing on your swollen and aching clit. He pulls a hit from his joint and blows the warm air into your parted mouth, to which you accepted lovingly. A very obvious wet spot was pooling under you at your desperate attempt to chase an orgasm. It was so close, but so far. The rhythm your hips we’re going at was starting to slow down. “Mmm did I say you could stop, you can do better than that, doll face.” He bounces his knee, his strong thighs now aiding in your efforts to cum. He smiles up at you, your bouncing now reminiscent of you riding a horse, “Almost there, show pony.” He hands you the blunt for you to hit as well. Your brain was already becoming fussy and warm. “Ha ha very funny,” you are taken by surprise when Frank takes the joint away and places the pad of his large thumb against your clit. Making you throw your arms around his neck and breathlessly moan. “Fucking slut. Humping my leg like a bitch in heat,” He touches his forehead to yours as you reach your first orgasm. Wave after wave crashing into you. Frank’s thumb doesn’t stop rubbing in circles until you’re begging him to stop. You are grateful as he gives you time to you ride out your orgasm.

You place open-mouthed kisses along his neck and shoulders. Your gentle and dainty fingers slipping into the waistband of his sweats. “No underwear?” You cock an eyebrow at him, a grin plastered onto your lips. He moans as you take his pulsating cock into your hand, “easy access.” He gives a low groan as you give his cock a light squeeze, “Who’s the slut now?” He hisses in pleasure as your thumb collects the precum, smearing it into the tip of his cock. "On your knees. Right now."

It was like looking into a wet dream. He had whatever divine to thank for giving him such a beautiful woman. “Look at you, taking my dick in your mouth like that. Nasty fucking girl.” Your glossy lips were smeared with his precum. Your red lipstick leaving blotches all over his throbbing cock. The hardwood floors beneath you were biting into your knees, but that wasn’t enough to stop. No, not for Frank. He wanted a proper apology. And that meant giving your all to him without complaints. After all, you’re the one who gave him an attitude. You’re the one who decided to tease him. So now you have to make up for it. Your fingers twitch against your thighs. You were aching to touch him. To feel his warm skin on yours. But you were a good, compliant girl. So malleable for him to shape into his perfect girl. The praises that fell from his lips only spurred your movements more. Taking him deeper and deeper into your throat, you hollow your cheeks. Your large eyes looking up at him. Smeared lipstick and running mascara and all.

“Fuck, Angel. If you keep doing that, I’m gonna cum in your mouth. But I’d prefer to do that inside you.”

He smirks down at your widened eyes. “I know that he never mentioned anything like that before, but I think it would be very-,” he cups your cheek, running his thumb across your lips to open your mouth, “-interesting.”

You lead him to his bedroom. A trail you know all too well. He didn't even give you time to get comfortable before he's leaving kisses along your neck. Stopping here and there to leave a small bite, "Don't worry. I wont leave any marks." Though it was a conversation you both had before, a part of you wishes he could. Wishes it were more than just fleeting glances and quick kisses in between barbecues and movie nights. Although it may take him a while to admit it, him staying to comfort you at work showed that he wanted more as well.

His beard tickles your neck as he peppers kisses down your chest; bringing you out of your trance. He made time to discard his own clothing while you were in your thoughts, "Youre dazing off. Something wrong?" He hesitates to sit back down onto the bed. "No! No! Just thinking," you outstretch your arms at the man with the same loving smile that he has wanted to see all day. He settles back onto the bed and into your welcoming arms, "doesnt mean youre off the hook, missy."

You shrug your shoulders at him as you pull him with you to lie down. The pillow is nice and plush as your head hits it. It smelled of his body wash and cologne. Like whiskey and oak. You cup his exposed peck in your hand and smile mischievously. "Gonna make me do things I shouldn’t even be thinking of," his voice was low and husky as you bite into the tender flesh. He groans at the pain. Making his cock twitch and throb in excitement. You stare happily at the love bite you left, right above his heart. "All mine, Frankie?" "All yours, darlin." You force down the urge to call him a liar. He sits up on his knees. You begin to stammer and fumble your words as you see his cock. It wasn’t like you’ve never seen it before, it just always looked so intimidating. He lines his cock up on your belly. Showing you both how deep he’s going to be. As he lifts it off of you, a sticky string of precum stretches between the two of you. The scene being almost too much for him, Frank lines his cock up at your entrance. The tip of his cock almost fighting through the first ring of your tight count.

“Too big for ya, darlin’? Ain’t that a shame,” Frank taunts at you. Knowing well enough that you weren’t one to give up easily. His hand meets your hip without hesitation. His grips the headboard over you. You aren’t at all prepared for the first thrust that he dishes out. It knocks all of the wind out of your body in the best way possible. “Yeah? you like that huh? Those pretty boys at your job make your pussy wet like this?”

“N-no.”

“No, what?”

“Oh god! No, sir!”

“God can’t save you tonight, baby. Should’ve thought about that when you were teasing me earlier.”

You bite into his shoulder. Fighting back the moan that was clawing and scratching to rip through you. “Scream for me. Scream like the depraved little thing you are," Frank sits up slightly. Hiking one of his legs up to stand on the foot. The position forcing you to take everything he gives you. Your scream is heard throughout the house. You see white lightning behind your eyes. Your orgasm caught you by surprise as it was ripped out of you by Frank. A devilish grin is played on his lips, his thrusts becoming more irratic. You move your hip sin tandem with his thrusts. Riding out your orgasm as you rub your clit against his pelvis. "Atta girl. Let daddy use you to cum. I'm almost there." He looks so surreal with his sweat dripping down his face and chest. "Shit, gonna stuff you full," he places his calloused hand on your soft lower belly. His hips now stuttering as he cums. He pushes his cock in as deep as he can into you. Filling you to the brim with his hot seed. He places a kiss on your forehead as he rolls off of you. Leaving only for a moment to get a towel to clean you both up.

You heaved a deep breath as you laid back down, now on his chest. You break your comfortable silence with a realization, "we are so fucked." Frank opens his eyes and quirks his eyebrow, not sure what you are getting at. Then it hit him, "ah, I can get you a plan B if you want." His answer made you shoot up from the position. “If I want?” He shrugs his shoulders and places one of his arms behind his head, “yeah.”

"What does that mean?"

"That i can get you a plan b."

"No no no. you said 'if you want.' meaning you may not want me to take one"

He smiles over at you and rolls his eyes, "i never said that." You we’re finally catching on to him. You put your finger up in an ‘aha’ moment, “but you implied it"

"okay okay maybe. But its totally up to you"

You cross your arms and pout at him,"Frank, you can't even tell my dad youre seeing me”

"I'll go tell him right now"

"bullshit!"

"Okay, maybe not now. Maybe tomorrow. When we both look decent."

"promise?"

"pinky promise,” he outstretched his pinky to you and you take it. Meaning he can never go back on this promise. And he’s sure he doesn’t wanna break the promise.

#imagines #jon bernthal smut #jon bernthal #frank castle x reader #frank castle #Frank castle smut #sam rossi #the punisher #marvel #sweet Virginia #Sam Rossi x reader #frank castle x female reader

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onceuponastory · 1 year

Text

home for christmas - bucky barnes x reader

Plot: When it doesn’t look like Bucky will make it home in time for Christmas, he promises to make it up to Y/N. Pairing: TFATWS Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader Warnings: A few small mentions of Bucky’s past, but other than that it’s just sickly sweet fluff. But, as always, if I miss any triggers, please let me know. Notes: This was written as part of a Secret Santa fic exchange for the Thot Neighbourhood discord server. I drew @breakablebarnes, TFATWS Bucky, the dialogue prompt: “But I’ve been such a good girl” and the festive device of some hot cocoa. I hope you like your fic!

Not beta’d, so all mistakes are my own. Thank you to @thesundrop / @astartothemoon for my divider!

“Come on Bucky, are you sure you can’t?”

“Yes.”

“It’s just-”

“I know. But I’m sorry Y/N, no. I can’t. We’re under pretty strict orders here.” He sighs, and Y/N can just picture the look of disappointment on his face. No doubt his mirrors hers perfectly.

“But I’ve been such a good girl!” Y/N exclaims. Her words make Bucky stop before he can even think of a comeback, and Y/N regrets her word choice right away. “Okay, maybe that one was too much. Seriously though, you’ve been working really hard these past few months, and it’s almost Christmas. Are you sure you can’t be home sooner? I don’t want you overworking yourself.” A sigh sounds on the other end of the phone. However, it’s not an angry or frustrated sigh. It’s a disappointed one. One that makes Y/N feel guilty.

She honestly doesn’t mean to pester him so much. After all, she knows Bucky is trying his best to get Tony to change his mind and let them go home early. And of course, she knows that Bucky’s work as an Avenger is incredibly important, far more than her job could ever be. She’s so proud of him for going out and saving the world, the same world that only a few decades ago treated him so horribly. Now, he can show everyone he’s the hero that she knew he always was, and prove that his past doesn’t define him.

Still though, Y/N doesn’t want him overexerting himself to prove that he’s worthy of everyone’s forgiveness. The missions have been getting longer, and she’s often received text messages from Bucky all hours of the night, making her even more worried about her boyfriend’s sleep levels. Even though he pretends to be strong, she can tell how tired he is, and see how his past still affects him. Bucky’s the kindest, bravest soul she knows, and she just wishes he believed in himself more, and saw himself as the person she knows he is. Someone kind and loving, despite everything that he’s been through. In her mind, he doesn’t need a thousand missions under his belt to prove that he’s a hero. But until then, she’ll tell him what a wonderful person he is as much as she can.

If worrying about Bucky’s health wasn’t enough for her, this mission seems like it’s been going on forever. She misses not having him around, having him sleeping next to her and having his smiling face as the first thing she sees when she wakes up and the last thing she sees before she falls asleep. Especially now, in the run up to the festive period, it’s torture to be so far away from Bucky. Honestly, it feels like he’s barely home nowadays. Sure, as the girlfriend of an Avenger she knows that she signed up for this life…but that doesn’t mean that she can’t hate it.

“I’m sorry Y/N, but I can’t. Tony says we’ve still got some work to do here, so it’ll still be a few weeks before we can go home.” Her heart sinks, and she feels her entire body slump in disappointment. “I know. I hate it too.” Bucky says, as if he can feel her pain through the phone. He’s good at that: noticing that something is wrong with her and providing love and support before she even knows something is wrong. To her, that’s even more proof of what a good person Bucky Barnes is, and it shows he was never the monster HYDRA made him to be. And it also makes her love and miss him even more. “You know, I’ve been talking about you so much that I think Sam and Steve are going crazy.” She giggles at that, and Bucky does too. “God, I miss that noise so much. I miss you so much.”

“I miss you too.”

“You’re my favourite person in the world. Don’t you ever forget that.”

“Like I could ever forget. You say it to me every time we call.” She reminds him, sniffling a little. Despite how upset she is and how much she misses Bucky, Y/N curses a little at herself for crying. She’d never want Bucky to feel bad for not being able to come home sooner, or for him to think that she resents being with him. Because she loves Bucky Barnes more than anything in the world. A bit of distance won’t change that.

“Doesn’t stop it from being true, though.” She hears a noise on the other line, and Bucky sighs. “I better go. Tony’s shouting something, and you know what he’s like when he’s kept waiting. Don’t want a repeat of last year’s New Year’s Eve party.” He chuckles. The mention of the happy memory makes Y/N's heart sink as her yearning for Bucky deepens. She knows he’s trying to cheer her up and mask his own disappointment, but she also knows that both of them can tell it’s not working. They'd rather be laughing and making memories together here at home, rather than miles apart from each other. And she doesn’t even know when they’ll be able to do that again.

“I swear these phone calls get shorter every week.” She sighs.

“I know. If I can, I’ll call you tomorrow, okay? Love you.”

“Love you too.”

“I promise I’ll make it up to you.” He tells her before the call disconnects. And then, he’s gone. And once again, Y/N is alone.

A week later, Y/N comes home after another long day at work. The closer it gets to Christmas, she’s just as busy as Bucky. Bucky. Another pang hits her stomach at the thought of her boyfriend. Thankfully, they’ve spoken more on the phone since that call last week, and being so busy preoccupies her slightly. But that doesn’t mean she’s missing him any less. Christmas is almost a week away, and there’s still no word of when Bucky will be home. Hopefully, it’s sooner rather than later.

As she steps closer into her house, Y/N suddenly feels the hair on the back of her neck sticking up. Something seems off. When your boyfriend and most of your best friends are Avengers, you know a lot about personal safety and self defence. And that means that Y/N can tell immediately when someone’s been in her house. Her blood chilling, she steps closer into her hallway, rooting around in her bag for the panic alarm Tony gave her. She can almost hear Bucky’s voice in her head, telling her to just get out of the house and call for help. But when he left, she promised him she’d be brave, and there’s no better time to be brave than confronting an intruder on her own. As she nears her living room, Y/N’s heart is thumping so loudly it might break out of her chest. She takes a breath, expecting to see the room destroyed….

Yet, when she turns, Y/N sees the exact opposite. Her Christmas lights are all on, filling the room with a soft glow. Her fairy lights have also been strung up, adding even more light. An array of blankets, cushions and stuffed animals cover her couch. Everything looks so festive and cosy. Y/N walks into the room, her mouth dropping open in surprise. “How did-”

“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting you to be home yet.” The sound of a voice almost makes her scream…until she realises who it belongs to. Bucky. She drops everything, rushing into his arms without another word, almost knocking the pair off their feet. “Oof! Hey you!” Bucky chuckles, kissing her temple as he tightly wraps his arms around her.

“What are you doing here?” She asks, her voice muffled by Bucky’s shirt. “You said Tony wouldn’t let you go.”

“Turns out the mission finished earlier than expected, so he let us go home early after all. I thought I'd surprise you as an early Christmas present.” He explains, rubbing his hands across her back.

“I’m so glad to see you. I missed you so much.” She whispers.

“I missed you too.” They both hold each other close, grasping the other tightly. After so long spent apart, all they want is to keep each other close and to never let go. “That’s not the only surprise, though.” Bucky admits. Y/N frowns.

“There’s more? Buck, you didn’t have to. Having you home for Christmas is all I ever wanted.”

“I know. But you’re my best girl, and I promised I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?” He asks, and she nods. She swears she’s the luckiest girl in the world to have Bucky in her life. He loves her so much, and he’s so giving. “We’re going to spend the night watching all your favourite festive movies. So you go sit down, and I’ll be right back.” He orders, kissing her cheek. A few minutes later, Bucky comes back holding a tray with two mugs and a big bowl of popcorn. Sitting down, he passes over a mug, and Y/N takes a sip. As soon as she tastes the warm cocoa with whipped cream and marshmallows, she moans happily. The noise makes Bucky burst into laughter, and despite how much she wants to tell him to shove off for laughing at her, the sound makes her insides go all warm and gooey. Despite being called the Winter Soldier and the grumpy front he puts up in front of most people…Bucky is like sunshine personified more often than he likes to think he is. Or, at least he’s like sunshine to her. And maybe that’s all that matters.

As Bucky wraps one of the many blankets around them, his hand finds hers underneath it, and he gives it a squeeze. “Merry Christmas Y/N. I love you.” He whispers, smiling. Instead of replying with words at first, Y/N kisses him. The kiss is soft at first, but deepens as all the pair’s longing for each other is released. Bucky’s tongue slips between her lips, and the flavours of chocolate, cream and marshmallows dance across their tongues as his stubble brushes against her chin. The kiss is perfect, like a wish come true. And this one is well worth the wait. It’s so good to finally have him home.

“I love you too.” She whispers. “So much.”

Please follow @onceuponastory-library and turn on notifications to be notified when I next post!

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes x reader #breakablebarnes #tis the season to be thot-y #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky x Female Reader #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky fanfic #tfatws bucky #the thot neighbourhood

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thehomebodydiaries · 1 month

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homebody diaries .001.

(ft. salem's hand)

i need a fucking car.

i am so tired of paying for and using someone else’s car. i’m grateful that they’re letting me use it. but if i’m gonna keep paying for repairs and gas, i’d like it to be going to my car. i can’t tell you how hard it is to save for a car when i am taking care of someone else’s too.

i did have one, for ten years. drove a firebird as old as me. it sat in the driveway for a year before i finally agreed to sell it. $600. i would’ve demanded more for all the work i’d had done on it, but i mean… who am i kidding? it didn’t run anymore

there’s a “shift bid” at work right now. basically what that means is each person picks three potential shifts out of a list of, like, fifteen possible choices. whoever has the best scores for the month (customer surveys, break adherence, boring call center corporate nonsense, etc.) gets their first, second, or third pick. it’s kind of annoying, because the office is already pretty toxic, and it feels like everyone is looking to see who fucks up first. plus, i’m content with my schedule, i would like to work 10am-7pm (instead of my current 1pm-10pm) but as long as i keep my friday/saturdays off, i’ll be fine.

(note: i would like it to be documented that i here have some unkind things written about some people i know and have opted to leave it out of this online post on the off chance that i become the main protagonist in an alice oseman novel.)

i think my anxiety is getting worse. i think people at work are like… fucking with me. but, like… why would they? i don’t know, i just can’t shake the feeling that everybody wants to see me fail. it’s also getting hard for me to leave the house. i keep thinking about all the horrible things that could happen: the car crashes, the choking hazards, skin cancer, being stalked, etc. my eating is getting pretty bad again too. weed helps more than i thought, but i’m on a bit of a break right now. today is the first day and i’m already buggin’, thinking everyone hates me and my therapist thinks i’m a joke and i’m not worthy of any of my friends and i can’t even finish a cup of noodles or keep up with my own fucking book club.

i’m trying to just focus on my scores at work to think about something else. i write my book in the notepad when i can. it’s good to have a project. i just wish i didn‘t second guess everyone’s intentions between bouts of inspiration.

anyway. i’m checking shit off of my list as fast as i can, but i’m only one little guy, and i don’t exactly have a lot of help - izzy is such a life saver when he can spare his time to run errands for me though. i’m trying to keep a rewards system going too. i got my second mystery box from the dreamland elf series, and it was the same one i already have. such a bummer, but i’m sure it’ll make someone pretty happy at a thrift store or something.

not much else to say. i’m drinking disaronno and trying to make a budget but i don’t know how spreadsheets work and i’m high and i’m gonna make a link.tree and a sorting quiz for my discord server.

#dark academia #writeblr #light academia #studyblr #reader #academia #notes #aesthetic #cozycore #art #cleaning up #rest day #collections #journal entry #reading #readblr

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queenburd · 6 months

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I'm still writing TSP fics! I've been primarily writing Parable Actors ficlets that are confined to the discord server, but I've been thinking about classic TSP stuff, so here is a piece about how the Narrator's memories work.

Takes place in TSP HD, after lotus eaters and the flashback that's seen in in-game motivation, part 1. It also uses the pause feature that is mentioned in pause. None of these are necessary reading, but if you like my writing and want to see how Stanley and the Narrator have gotten to this point, then I would appreciate if you checked them out!

CW for an incomplete Zending run.

|.|.|.|

“Stanley, please,” the Narrator says, voice weak, “let’s go back to the other room. Please?”

Stanley swallows, looking up at the stairs. He shakes his head.

“You don’t have to do this, you know you don’t.”

He sits on the first landing, looking at his shoes where they rest on the steps.

The Narrator promised he would reset.

“I will! I will reset, soon, as soon as I’m ready, like we agreed!”

Stanley grimaces and gets to his feet. He ascends a flight and the fellow groans in frustration.

“Please, Stanley! I just wanted to be in there a little longer, you said I could—!”

He fell into the trap again.

It’s hit or miss, with the starry room. The Narrator is still trying to find his own sense of empowerment. The peace the room affords him can become addicting, drawing him in and in and in. It quiets his mind like nothing else does, and he’s loathe to leave it.

But sometimes, he can manage it. Sometimes, he can take his fill, then sigh happily and reset the game, refreshed and renewed, and ready to do and be more. Sometimes he can free himself of the siren song, stop eating the lotus flowers, and continue sailing, as Odysseus did.

This is not one of those times.

Stanley doesn’t want to do this! He doesn’t like it—doesn’t like putting himself or the voice through this experience. He finds no power in it, not like others might, nor does he find catharsis. Yet he has little choice—he has no other way to free them from this ending. There’s no other way out.

“There is! Please, just listen to me, just go back and we’ll relax and then I’ll reset!”

It won’t. He knows that. It wants to believe it will, but deep down, the voice knows.

Stanley makes it to the top landing, and steps off.

“No no no no no!”

The Narrator’s voice breaks as he makes impact. Stanley gasps as he pulls himself off the ground. There’s no blood—some pain, but no centered to any point of him. It’s diffused through all of him.

Still hurts like a bitch. He’s limping to the steps again, noticeably slower, when the Narrator says, frantic, “I’ll reset, I’ll reset, I’m resetting, I’m—“

THEENDISNEVERTHEENDISNEVERTHEENDISLOADING

Stanley braces his palms on the edge of his desk, and thinks in the same moment the Narrator speaks:

[ "Pause." ]

He inhales sharply, and then relaxes into his office chair. The Narrator lets him sit quietly, gathering his thoughts, before the fellow speaks.

“Stanley? Is everything okay?”

He lifts a hand in a seesaw gesture, and lets it fall into his lap.

What does the Narrator remember?

The response he gets is a thoughtful hum, noticeably without distress. “Let me see—if I recall correctly, we went through the red door in the warehouse, yes?”

Stanley nods. The Narrator continues calmly.

“Well, then I must have managed to reset without issue.”

All at once, Stanley feels very tired.

“Oh. I didn’t manage it, did I?”

On his part, the fellow seems at least politely apologetic. And, really, Stanley doesn’t hold it against him, that he can’t remember, nor that he struggles with the issue every time. It’s why he’s not even angry, or upset, about this. He’s just… tired. Resigned, perhaps.

The voice sighs gently. “Will you tell me what happened?”

He offers the memory.

“No, please; in your own words, if you don’t mind. I’d rather not force you to relive it.”

That’s generous, he thinks. He can oblige.

They went through the red door. They were in the room with the lights for a while. The Narrator stopped talking to Stanley, and didn’t respond when Stanley asked to reset. So Stanley had left.

He had gone to the stairwell.

“Yes, I think—yes,” the voice interrupts. “I had tried to tell you to go back, but you did end up falling before I finally forced a reset. Oh, Stanley, I am sorry,” it says, with real sorrow.

It—remembered?

“Yes, though not without prompting, I’m afraid.”

How? It hadn’t remembered before, what had changed?

“I—um—oh, look.”

Stanley’s monitor display—changes.

The black screen disappears, instead displaying a desktop, with task bar and icons. As he watches, the folder icon is clicked, quickly opening a window that displays more folders.

“Now, this is simply a visual metaphor, you understand, yes? Imagine, perhaps, my mind is the computer, and the files inside house all the different bits of me. However, I am also the person navigating the computer. Are you with me so far?”

Stanley presses his hands together and rests his elbows on the desk, then his chin on his hands. He was… kind of following.

“Now, imagine every memory is a file. Every run is located somewhere in the computer, you see? All my scripts, every word I have said and every thought I have had, it’s here, somewhere.”

Then why does he not remember certain things?

“Stanley I am getting to that, you’ve always been so terribly impatient,” the voice huffs at him, eliciting an eyeroll. “Honestly, you wouldn’t know good set-up and pay off if it bit you in the arse thirty minutes from now, after I’ve foreshadowed it.”

Yap yap yap. He frees one of his hands to open and close it like a talking mouth.

“Oh for God’s—no, no,” the Narrator interrupts sharply. “I will not get irritated, I will not become distracted, I am going to explain this because this is important.”

He inhales deeply, and exhales slowly, and as he does Stanley sits back again, focusing once more on his screen. Curiously, he moves his mouse and double-clicks on a folder.

More folders, and a collection of files with names that were just a garble of letters and numbers.

He clicks a folder.

More folders, and a collection of files with names that were just a garble of letters and numbers.

He clicks a folder.

More folders—

Oh.

“Yes,” the Narrator says, “You see? I simply don’t know where the memory is. I need guidance. I need to know where to look.”

Stanley sits back.

“Mind you, it’s not a perfect metaphor. Sometimes I do have an idea of where to start, a path or—“

An Adventure Line™️, his mind adds unhelpfully.

“A-hah, not, not quite. But you see, when you give me the starting point, you can lead me to the correct file, do you see?”

Kind of, yes. The thing is, Stanley didn’t understand computers too well, so some of the metaphor didn’t make a lot of sense.

“Alright, let’s try a different example. Let’s take the office, for an example. Let’s say we have the office, with its many halls and doors, and behind a door, somewhere, is the memory. The problem is, I’m not sure which door. But say you know the building, so you can wind through the halls and lead me to the correct door, and I just need to open it.”

Okay. So…. The Narrator’s memories were lost, but not gone. If Stan gave him context, he could get to the memory himself?

“I do believe that’s the case! It is, I think, a matter of experimentation to confirm my theory, but I do believe the fact that you and I have a rapport now is what makes this even possible. Could you imagine, if we hadn’t come to a sort of truce, what would have happened? Why, I probably wouldn’t even know there was a missing memory to even search for!”

Stanley’s mouth curls down. Yeah. He could imagine.

“…oh.”

The single utteration feels heavy. There is a long pause.

Then;

“I—I can’t recall if I’ve said it before, how grateful I am to you, Stanley. I—I know we’ve had our differences—“

Issues. Fights. Desperate bids for control—

“—yes, thank you, your point has been made; but I… appreciate that we’ve been able to come to an accord and tried to, to bury the hatchet, so to speak. I… I know I would be far worse off, if you hadn’t… been willing to compromise.”

Stanley crosses his arms, feeling a little off-balance. He imagines getting all that out was absolute hell.

“Honestly?” The Narrator sighs. “Not at all. I really—I really don’t know what I would do without you.”

His eyes fall. The voice asks, a bit hesitant.

“Are we okay? Is this too much?”

Stanley rubs an eye. It… it is a bit much, he thinks. He’s recovering from a bit of a rough reset, and new information, and this still growing connection they have is something he doesn’t know how to talk about, sometimes. It isn’t the first time the Narrator has apologized or thanked him, and their bond isn’t a new one at this point, but there’s still a part of him that doesn’t like looking at the hurt before it. It still feels raw. Maybe because of the ending they just experienced, but still.

“I see. Well,” the voice starts, feigning nonchalance, “I’m ready to go whenever you are, but if you need to pause for a little longer, then I’ll leave you to it for a bit, shall I?”

His screen closes the folders window, but it does not return to the black input display. The voice quiets, not gone, he thinks, but giving him space to think and decompress. It makes no argument, at least, when he double-clicks on the cards icon on his desktop. It lets him play Solitaire in peace.

He doesn’t keep it waiting. He exits the office, hops out the window, and lets it serenade him with a new, silly song. He thinks it is grateful.

It’s getting better. The Narrator is making strides with every run. There are stumbles, in the path, certainly—the last run is an example of one—but each time he gets a little better.

And Stanley is proud of him. And Stanley doesn’t know what he would do without the Narrator, either. Despite everything, he’s—glad. That they have each other. That they’re trying.

That they’re friends.

He’s glad.

#the sparrow parable #the stanley parable #may writes #tsp #the stanley parable hd remake #will crosspost to ao3 tomorrow? or later today. idk

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whiskey-tango-matcha · 1 year

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Home for Christmas

Hi, everyone!

So I’ve been lurking for a while, and decided I’d finally get off my ass and write something. I used to write these characters way back in the blue forum days, but haven’t written anything with them in years (or really anything at all, so if it’s rough that’s why - my apologies). Their names are Greyson and Elijah - Elijah is the owner and general manager of a restaurant, where Greyson is the executive chef. That’s all you really need to know to read this!

I’d love to know if anyone likes these guys, because I do have a lot of older writing from the forum with them that I’ll happily post here if anyone’s interested :)

Onward!

Home for Christmas

(cw: male, colds, contagion)

“Are you sure about this?”

“Jesus, Greyson, it’s a single day closed. It’s not like we’re closing the restaurant for good.”

“Yeah, but I mean...it’s you. I’ve literally never known you to close the restaurant.”

Elijah gave the Executive Chef the stink eye as he pressed ‘send’ on the Christmas day schedule. “Well, like 90% of the servers asked for it off, and I’m sick and tired of being the bad guy every holiday,” he said. “And anyway,” Elijah pointed to the computer, where the email on the screen read ‘sent’, “what’s done is done.”

Greyson shrugged as he zipped up his knife bag. “Whatever you want, man. I’m sure the staff will be thrilled.” The chef hoisted his bag onto his shoulder and zipped up his coat. “You gonna do anything for Christmas, then?”

Elijah rolled his eyes. “My family hasn’t spoke to me in ten years. Fairly sure I’m going to be wasted by 9AM and in bed by noon.”

Greyson laughed. “Hey, the holidays are hard on all of us. Collin is out of town visiting family, so if you wanna hit up a dive bar or something, you know where to find me,” he said, pointing finger guns at his boss.

“Greyson, we literally see each other 80 hours a week. Don’t you have any friends you want to spend the day with?”

Greyson raised his eyebrows, amused. “I feel like the answer to the question lays within the statement ‘80 hours a week at work’”, he chuckled. Elijah grunted in response, and this time Greyson let out a full laugh.

“See ya tomorrow, boss,” he called as he walked out of their shared office. Then, as he walked out the back door of the kitchen, “Seven days til Christmas!”

***

Though he thought he’d never say it, Elijah could not wait until Christmas.

It wasn’t the presents, or the fact that day drinking was seen as an inevitable, and it wasn’t even the fact that he’d actually have a day off. No, at this point – five days out from the usually dreaded holiday – it was the fact that the restaurant was going to be closed, and he wasn’t going to have to try and find enough healthy staff to keep the restaurant running for holiday service.

“You’re sure you can’t come in today?” he hated himself for even asking, but Riley was the third server to call off that evening, and Elijah wasn’t even sure he’d be able to run the floor with only three servers.

Riley explained the same thing the rest of the servers who’d called off had – she had the flu, she could barely talk, she had a fever, there was no way she’d be able to come in – and Elijah apologized for even asking. After hanging up the phone, he held his head in his hands until he heard a knock on the already-open office door.

“Morning, boss,” Greyson said, cracking his neck and setting down his heavy knife bag on the chair next to Elijah. “All good?”

Elijah sighed heavily and pressed his fingers into his eye sockets. “Not really,” he said, turning to the computer in search of someone to call who wasn’t deathly ill. “Third server of the night just called out.”

Greyson let out a low whistle as he took off his jacket and switched it out for a chef’s coat. “Damn,” he said. “They’re really dropping like fl-iiihh,” Elijah’s head whipped up when he heard the chef’s breath catch. Greyson’s eyes half-closed and he quickly brought his elbow to his face to catch a huge “HGTTSHH-uhh!” Greyson sniffed hard, shook his head, and looked down at Elijah, whose face was one of pure misery. “What?”

“No,” Elijah said, “absolutely not.”

“Absolutely not, what?”

“Absolutely not, you’re not getting sick.”

Greyson laughed as he finished buttoning his chef’s coat. “Lij. Don’t worry. I don’t get sick.”

“Hilarious, chef. Take this,” Elijah said, rooting through a desk drawer until he found the final packet of Emergen-C he had and held it up to Greyson. The chef raised an eyebrow and tentatively shook his head.

“Elijah, seriously, it was one sneeze. I’m fine, I feel fine, I really don’t need – HRSHH!” This one seemed to sneak up on him, and Greyson barely managed to stifle it into his palm. Elijah audibly groaned. “Relax,” Greyson said sniffing hard and snatching the Emergen-C packet. “Everything’s going to be fine.”

The chef walked out of the office and waved to his team prepping food for the night before washing his hands. Elijah was still staring at him with a pained expression when Greyson peeked back into the office.

“Put a smile on, boss,” he said, sniffling just a little as he dried his hands. “Five days til Christmas!”

***

Everything was absolutely not going to be fine.

Elijah knew even before Greyson got to the restaurant that he was sick as a dog. Their text conversation that morning had confirmed it in his mind, despite the fact that Greyson would never actually admit to illness.

8:21AM

Hey. How’re you feeling.

Wow, not even a question mark??? What are you, the psycho from American Psycho?

Hilarious. Are you well enough to come in?

Lij. Please. If im texting you, don’t you think im coming in? Obviously if I planned on skipping work id ghost you.

Ha ha.

Fr though, im coming in. No worries. See ya soon. :)

Maybe an innocuous conversation to some, but for Greyson to fully ignore the blatant question Elijah asked, the GM knew that he had to be doing pretty shitty. And unfortunately, he didn’t have much choice but to come in – the flu that had passed through the front of house and moved its way into the kitchen, and more than half of Greyson’s staff – including his sous chef – had already called off.

Elijah stacked the chef’s side of the office with supplies he knew he’d need, but wouldn’t get for himself – a box of tissues, a bottle of dayquil, and a steaming paper cup of tea greeted Greyson when he entered the kitchen office.

“What’s all this for?” Greyson asked, sitting down at his half of their shared desk. His voice was a mess – a stuffed-up half-croak at best – and he wasn’t taking off his jacket. Worse than Elijah thought.

“It’s for your cold or whatever it is, asshole,” Elijah said, turning away from the computer to face the chef. “You look like shit.”

“And you knew I looked like shit because, I assume, you snuck into my apartment and watched me sleep…?” Greyson asked, picking up the tea, then immediately putting it back down to muffle a “HETSHH-uhh! HRSTSHH-uhhn!” into his sleeve. He glanced back at the desk and plucked out a few tissues. He refused to blow his nose in front of his boss, but he definitely needed to at least clean himself up.

“Bless. I knew you looked like shit because you looked like shit last night, you fucking moron.”

Greyson rolled his eyes, then cringed at what Elijah assumed was a killer headache. He opened the desk drawer and produced some ibuprofen, which Greyson gladly downed with a gulp of tea.

“I’m maybe not 100%,” he admitted, which may as well have been an admission that he was going to kick the bucket right then and there. “But I’m fine for – HUTSHH-ooo!” That one he’d barely managed to cover by turning as far away from Elijah as possible and spraying a rogue pile of cookbooks in the corner of the office. Greyson sniffed hard and rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. “Finde for service,” he managed, covering a cough.

“Yeah, you sound great,” Elijah said, placing his head in his hand as he looked at the chef.

“I’ll wear a mbask.”

“Obviously.”

“I’ll just expo, I wond’t touch the food.”

“Okay.”

“I’mb sorry, Lij.” Greyson turned away from his boss to blow his nose, to no avail. He only succeeded in making himself cough til he was dizzy.

“Oh fuck off,” Elijah said, pushing the dayquil towards the chef. “I doubt any of us will get out of this unscathed. We’ll close the books for tonight so it won’t be busy.” That was as close to comfort as Elijah got, even on his best day, but it made Greyson smile nonetheless.

“Well,” Greyson said, unscrewing the cap of the dayquil and taking a swig. “At least there’s only four days til Christmas, right?”

Elijah snorted. “Yeah,” he said, shaking his head. “Four days til Christmas.”

***

Greyson wasn’t sure how he was going to make it to his next day off – to Christmas.

Last night had been hard. Or, maybe more accurately, last night had been a fucking walking nightmare.

Elijah said they wouldn’t be busy, but survey said that was a lie; with a limited staff and a headache that could split his head in half, and no voice, and the absolutely constant sneezing, it felt like they did about 500 covers. By the end of the night, Greyson was about one sent-back steak away from walking out.

“You did great,” Elijah assured him once service was finally over. “Really, everything couldn’t have come out better.”

“You’re a real bad fuckin’ liar, anyone ever told you tha ahh...HATSHH-oo! HGTSHH-uhh! Fuck.” Greyson grabbed a tissue and, fully not caring what his boss thought at this point, blew his nose until he felt like he could finally breathe again.

“Not lying,” Elijah had said, pushing Greyson into his chair. “But maybe I should call Britney and ask if she’s feeling well enough to come in tomorrow? So you can take the day to rest?”

Greyson shook his head and swallowed painfully. “She texted me this morning that she has strep. Can’t come back until she’s had five days of antibiotics.” Elijah swore under his breath.

“Alright,” Elijah said. “I can close the books for tomorrow now, if you want?” Greyson raised an eyebrow and sniffed. “People have family in town. Regulars. They’re going to want to come in. It’s three days till Christmas tomorrow.”

Elijah bit his lip, unsure what to do. Greyson cleared his throat and grabbed his coat. “I’mb going to the store. I’ll get a bunch of shit that’ll mbake me feel like a real persond tomorrow. I’ll sleep.” He put a firm hand on his boss’s shoulder. “It’ll be okay, Lij. I’ll feel better tomorrow.”

Elijah, clearly not sure what other choice he had, had nodded. “Alright,” he said. “Go home. Come in later tomorrow.” A consolation prize, at best, but Greyson had nodded.

And to be fair, he had gotten medicine. He had gotten sleep. But clearly this sickness just didn’t give a fuck, because when he woke up this morning he somehow felt even worse. His throat felt like it was about to close up completely. He couldn’t stop coughing, even after taking way more than the recommended dose of cough medicine. And he couldn’t breathe out his nose for the life of him.

But he didn’t have a choice; Elijah was waiting for him. His staff was waiting for him. The goddamn restaurant needed him, so he took even more medicine and headed into work.

Of course, he was immediately hit with Elijah’s ‘oh fuck, oh shit, oh god you look like you’re going to die’ bullshit; the man was more dramatic than any twelve year old girl he’d ever known. He’d consoled his boss, he’d prepped for dinner, he’d -

“HGTSH! HTSH! TSH!” he’d stifled about a thousand sneezes into his ever-depleting stack of masks. He’d blown his nose about a thousand times, and washed his hands so many times that he thought the skin might start to peel off. He’d run service with only a hoarse whisper as a voice, and he’d made it through. Their second-to-last service before a day off was done.

When he finally stepped into the office at the end of the night, where Elijah was waiting for him once again with a cup of tea, he attempted a smile.

“Thandks, man,” he whispered, taking a sip. Elijah nodded and rubbed the back of his neck.

“Only two days til Christmas.”

***

“Christmas eve hits different when you don’t have to work in the morning.”

Elijah let out a bark of a laugh and looked up from his computer. “That’s how you’re going to greet me?” Greyson shrugged, coughed into his sleeve, and sat down in his chair with a thud. “Just saying,” he said. “Hey, where’s my arsenal of medicine? My tea? My sympathy from my boss?”

Elijah raised an eyebrow. “You texted me this morning that you were feeling, and I quote, ‘Like a baby that was just born’ this morning. I assumed that meant you were feeling better.”

Greyson huffed and unzipped his jacket. “I mean, I am. But I was really getting used to my little setup. It was like having a butler,” he mused, buttoning his chef’s coat. Elijah rolled his eyes and flipped the chef the middle finger. Greyson laughed until he crumpled into a coughing fit.

“Maybe I have one or two things left for you, your majesty,” Elijah said, throwing a bag of cough drops and a box of tissues at Greyson. Greyson saluted his thanks and stood to go to the kitchen.

“Y’know,” Greyson said, turning back toward the office, “I have to say, I’m impressed.”

“Impressed by what?” Elijah asked, threading his eyebrows together.

“By you. This whole restaurant has gone down this week, and there you are – unscathed.” Greyson shrugged and turned on the sink to wash his hands. “It’s just impressive.”

Elijah rolled his eyes again. “Unlike you all, I actually take care of myself,” he said, turning back to his computer. “Now if you’ll excuse me, I have to get some work d – uhh….HTSH!” Elijah sneezed into a fist, and Greyson nearly howled.

“Now that,” he said, pulling out some paper towels, “was some timing.”

“Fuck off, Greyson, it was nothing.”

“Uh huh,” Greyson said, still smiling. He walked back to the office, plucked the box of tissues from his side of the desk, and plopped it down in front of his boss.

“I don’t – HUHETCHOO!” Elijah directed this one into his elbow and swore before showing his face again.

“You do,” Greyson said, firm, but still smiling. “Trust me. One day til Christmas, boss. Call it an early Christmas present.”

***

“Ughghhhh.”

Elijah woke up on Christmas day and immediately wished he hadn’t. Last night had been pretty rough, but nothing could have prepared him for the absolute garbage fire that was his body in the morning. His head absolutely ached from all sides. His chest felt hot and tight. And probably worst of all, he had the constant feeling of needing to -

“HTSHHUH! HehhhGTSHHH-ioo! HSHH-oo! Good fuckigg god.” He’d meant to turn over and go immediately back to sleep, but his nose clearly had other plans; after tending to it for an ungodly amount of time, Elijah picked up his phone from the end table. One text message – who was texting him at eight AM on Christmas?

Morning, boss! So, I figured you’re probably feeling like hot garbage by this point, and maybe needing a little bit of christmas cheer. Meet me at the restaurant at ten am. If youre not there, I WILL cry so think carefully before ghosting me. Gonna be real weird to work together after the 5000 crying selfies ill send. Like, really weird.

Elijah couldn’t help but snort at the chef’s text. He was right, though; the only thing more depressing than being sick on Christmas was being sick and alone on Christmas. Elijah sighed, rolled his eyes, and set his alarm for 9:30. Just enough time to make it to the restaurant by ten.

***

When he saw his boss push through the front door at 10:03AM, Greyson nearly jumped in surprise.

He wasn’t necessarily surprised that Elijah had come; after all, the man loved this restaurant probably more than he could ever love any partner or child, so he’d most likely planned on coming today anyway, text from Greyson or no. No, Greyson was more surprised by Elijah’s...getup.

His boss was wearing what he assumed were flannel pajama bottoms, a sweatshirt with more than a few questionable stains, a scarf that Greyson had never seen him in before, and what looked, honestly, like a ladies coat pulled over it all with the hood up over his usually-perfectly-coiffed hair. Elijah, who had never before had a hair out of place, was absolutely disheveled.

“Merry Christmas!” Greyson called from behind the bar. Then, with just as much enthusiasm, “You look like shit!”

Elijah tried to laugh, but ended up coughing into a tissue he had balled in his hand. “Merry Christmas,” he managed, sitting at a bar stool in front of the chef. “Thanks for the fuckin’ flu. What are we doing here?”

“We’re doing Christmas dinner!” Greyson said, doing a spin, then turning to cough from too much movement. Elijah raised an eyebrow at him while Greyson took a drink of water.

“It’s ten in the morning.”

“And I assume you’d like to be back in bed by noon, so...”

“Fair enough,” Elijah said, cracking a smile. Greyson smiled back, cleared his throat, and placed a drink in front of his boss.

“Drink that. I’ll be right back with food.”

“What is it?” Elijah asked, taking a tentative sip.

“Hot toddy,” Greyson called behind him. “Tea’s a lot more fun when there’s whiskey in it.”

Greyson pushed through the kitchen doors and stirred the soup he’d prepped last night. It looked pretty damn good, if he did say so himself, so he bowled it up, grabbed the bread out of the oven, and carried everything back to the bar.

“Christmas dinner,” he said with a flourish on his return. “A classic: chicken soup. And bread.”

Elijah couldn’t help but smile again as the steaming bowl was placed in front of him. “Greyson,” he croaked, eyes watering just a little, “you really didn’t have to do all this.”

Greyson shrugged, hopped over the bar top, and sat next to his boss. “I know,” he said. “Eat your dinner, you sick fuck.”

Elijah laughed in earnest this time, then turned away from Greyson to sneeze into the sleeve of his sweatshirt. “God, this is a nightmare. You worked while feeling like this?”

Greyson took a spoonful of soup and blew on it before looking at his boss with mischief in his eyes. “Some of us are just made of heartier stuff, boss,” he said, taking a bite with a smile. Elijah laughed, coughed, and flipped him the bird.

“Fuck off, you asshole,” he laughed, picking up his spoon.

“Merry Christmas, Lij.”

“Oh, fuck off, Chef,” he said, taking a bite and closing his eyes in ecstasy. “Goddamn. Now that’s a Christmas dinner.”

#sickfic #sneezefic #sneezeblr #snz kink #snz #whiskeyswriting #malesnz #snzblr #snez #sick #contagion

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