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gtsdreamer2 · 1 year ago

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You had finally made it. This was your big break. Your whole life's work was in front of you, on a wheel cart, all covered up by a tarp and ready to present. You had finally worked you way onto Shark Tank. It was time to present your offer to the four judges.

As you wheeled your cart out in front of them, you could feel all four sets of eyes on you. Three male judges, all top investors and smart businessmen in their own right, and the single female, Ms. Nikki. You followed her on various social platforms and were pretty in-the-know about her day-to-day. She wasn't very intimidating to look at in person, that was for sure. Five foot nothing with a flat chest and features that didn't immediately captivate. She wore big fancy clothing and platform heels to cover for her deficiencies in her stature and bust, but you weren't here to care about that. She was your best shot at getting an offer.

"Lady and gentlemen," you started, pulling off the tarp with a flourish. "I come before you with a simple question. If you were given the opportunity to solve world hunger, would you?" All four judges leaned forward in their chairs to try to get a better look at the spread on the wheel cart before them. You had laid out various fruits and vegetables of unimaginable sizes as well as a small terarrium with a normal looking strawberry plant. There was a whiteboard with some diagrams and a couple vials of white shimmery liquid.

"I come before you today to tell you that this question has already been solved. I have in front of you, right here and now, a way to end world hunger." Ms. Nikki's eyebrow went up, she was skeptical to be sure. Her whole social media presence was about helping to end the food crisis in developing countries and it looked to you like she was already hooked on what you might have to show her.

"Take a look at these." you said, hefting a five pound strawberry in each hand. "Imagine walking down the street and seeing houses with front lawns filled with these giant fruits. Each of these are enought to feed a family two servings of friut a day for a whole week. Now what If I told you there was thirty on this vine and that they went from seed to harvest in only four weeks?

"I'd say you're full of it and trying to sell me something," said one of the male judges, to which the other two male judges laughed. Ms. Nikki never took her eyes off you. She raised her hand, silencing her peers. "I'd say, one, how do you do it, two, is it cost effective, and three, is it safe?"

"Smart woman!" you retorted, Trying to build a rapport with your best chance at landing a deal. "I'm not going to tell you to take a bite of these giant, delicious, and nutritionally fortified strawberries of course. There is a lot of science behind them and you all don't even know me. I WILL however demonstrate what I've done to them. Here." You carefully picked four strawberries from the live vine and approached the judges. "These are everyday ordinary strawberries. Organic. No pesticides, no GMOs. You handed each judge a berry and they all partook.

"It tastes like a normal strawberry, big deal." Scoffed another male judge. "Well, not yet, but they're about to be a big deal," You joked back, to zero laughter. You cleared your throat. "Anyway, the difference between the big fruit I just held in my hand and the normal ones you just held in yours is this:" You hoisted one of the vials of shimmery liquid in front of them. "Allow me to demonstrate." You carefully poured liquid over the plants vines, making sure to douse the soil where the roots were thickest. In less than twenty seconds, the soil and vines had greedily sucked up every drop of liquid and the plant began to pulse larger. After about another minute, the fruit had doubled and then doubled again in size. All four judges' eyes looked ready to pop out of their heads. 'I've got em right where I want them.' You thought to yourself.

The third male judge cleared his throat to quiet the clamoring if his cohosts. "Alright. That's cool. I think you've got something really special here. What were you looking for with this? Why have you come to us?" This was the part you were worried about.

"Well, your judgeship, I have the formulas and the knowhow for making this all happen, what I lack is the capitol and the facilities." You needed to be up front about your needs or they never were going to play along.

"My thing is, we're here to make money, not give handouts to the poor." The first judge said. "I get that its a great thing you're showing us, but I don't see dollar signs. I see a big money pit and no ROI. This whole thing seems like Nikki's cup of tea. Finally it was her turn to speak.

"My fellow investors here are all about dollars and percentages and playing it safe. I think what you've got here is definitely worth investing in. What would you need to...for instance..." She pondered numbers and scale and time. "Begin feeding the entire population of Texas in the next three months?" It sounded like you were so close to a deal at this point, but you didn't want to scare her off.

"I would seek an initial investment of ten million to start. That would cover seed and farmland, schematics to build the machine that creates the formula at a rate that could keep up with crop demand, and labor for the equipment and hands to farm the land." Your palms were beginning to sweat now.

"I'll tell you what." She began, eying you like you were prey caught in her trap. "You need me, so I'll give you a counter offer: "I'll give you the ten million. And you can convert two of my Texas facilities. I want controlling stake of your business. I want 75%. You're doing this to end world hunger? I'll bankroll you, and you'll look like a Saint, and I'll be running the show, which I'm very good at, by the way. It's a very good deal. These three next to me want nothing to do with it. Oh, and by the way, I'll need one of those vials to take to my scientists to test it for safety first. I'll put a clause in the contract about dissolving this whole thing if all you can do is make giant poison fruit."

You contemplated her offer. You'd lose any control you might have had over the whole operation. But Nikki was good at handling business. You had a duty to the world to spread this miracle. "Ms. Nikki. You've got a deal."

The contract was quickly drawn up by Ms. Nikki's personal lawyer. Just as she had stated, 75% stake, her taking one of the remaining two vials for health testing, use of her land and various facilities, repurposed from one of her lines of beauty products or something. The whole thing seemed sound. You signed it and the deal was struck.

Two months had passed since then, and operations were finally ramping up now. You hadn't had the opportunity to meet with your benefactor face-to-face since signing the contract, but you had spoken to her several times on the phone, each time she seemed more impatient than the last to get a tour of the facility once production had started. Today was that day. Her driver pulled into the mostly empty lot and he got out to open the door for her. She excitedly walked right up to you to give you a firm handshake and beaming smile. You were so nervous and anxious that you didn't realize that she was wearing a bigger coat than normal and was missing her signature platform shoes. Still she stood at the same height as your last meeting.

"You have no idea how excited I am to witness the fruits of our labor! Pun intended of course." she laughed to herself and you laughed along side her as a gesture of good will.

"It's all right through these doors!" You held the door for her and gestured her inside. She quickly strode past the foyer and into the back, where all the magic was happening. Her eyes adjusted to the lighting, and she took in the entire facility. Boxes of seeds, premium mulch, various areas to test the effectiveness of the current batch of shimmery liquid. And then she saw it: the synthesizing of the miracle liquid. It was pouring out of a spout at a rhythmic rate and filling the same vials that you had used in the demonstration. They were being neatly packaged into crates that would be shipped to her farmland around the state, as per the contract.

Ms. Nikki walked right over to crates, eyeing them carefully. "Production is going very smoothly Ms. There haven't been any hiccups." You told her boastfully. She carefully picked up a vial, holding it up to the fluorescent lights and watching it shimmer back and forth.

"And the effectiveness? Is it just as powerful as the first batch you used in your demonstration? I wouldn't want you to fall short of our goals, of course."

"It's the very same formula, I can promise you that. And we have more than enough to meet our goal thanks to your premium factories here." You were watching the vials fill and feeling elated that your dreams were on the verge of being realized.

"That's all I needed to hear." She said with a grin that startled you. "Let's test just how effective it is, shall we?"

"Well, we don't have any sprouted plants here, but I could run out and-" before you could even finish your sentence, Ms. Nikki took the vial and tipped it against her lips, swallowing the whole thing with one gulp. You were flabbergasted. "Why would you do that?!" You shouted at her, suddenly losing your composure. You watched her whole body shudder as she released a sudden, powerful, erotic moan. She ran her hands up and down her body as you watched her pulse and grow three inches in height. She discarded her massive coat in a flourish revealing a pair of breasts that she definitely didn't use to have. You were suddenly speechless.

"This is why!" she boomed, gesturing to her whole body. She was now almost as tall as you with what seemed to be at least D cup breasts hanging off her. "God, I missed that feeling. What a rush! Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? How far I've searched for something like this? Something that can do this to me? You think I've been traipsing all across the globe, doing charity work, helping the poors, just for fun? No. I think not. All this time I've been chasing rumors. Legends and myths of artifacts and fountains of youth and this and that and nothing prepared me for you walking through my door and HANDING it to me!" She picked up another vial and downed it, shivering and pulsing larger again.

"I don't think you're thinking clearly Ms. Nikki. Those aren't meant to be consumed until they've been synthesized within the plants and-" she cut you off then.

"Do you really think that I took home that vial just to display it in my office? Do you know how many world class scientists that I had study it since we last spoke two months ago? Fuck, the second that it was given the 'all clear' I drank it so fast." Ms. Nikki touched her lips as if reliving the first sensation all over again. "I've been so so very patient waiting for you to build all of this for me." She grabbed another four vials and inhaled them. "Mmmph!" She moaned out as she grew another two feet, ripping through all but her soaked panties. She threw the empty vials, shattering them against the far wall as she discarded her tattered clothes. She was now towering above you at eight feet tall and on full display. As if rediscovering her body for the first time, her curious fingers explored every inch of her impressive frame. She hefted her now heavy tits and tugged and tweaked her hard, sensitive nipples. She moved her hand to her wet mound and gave it a good rub, as if consoling her panties for hanging on.

"Where was I?" She began again, trying to regain her train of thought. "Oh yes, I wanted you thank you again for helping me to achieve...this." She hoisted her tits again, cradling their mass in her arms for you to witness. "Money, status, influence, those can get a girl pretty far, but this!" She flexed her muscles and flashed a dazzling, satisfied smile. "This is real power!" Slowly you regained your ability to speak.

"But you said...we were supposed to use all this to help the world. That was my dream. You can't do this! This is my life's work!"

She let out a horrid cackle, completely invalidating your passionate protest while starting to drink vial after vial, case after case. "No darling. I'm your life's work now. All of this is mine. It's in the contract. The formula, the facilities, the production, mmmph, all of it. You're going to keep producing this wonderful formula, and I'm going to keep growing! It'll be wonderful!" As she began to grow faster and faster, her panties finally gave up the fight and tore away from her. She pushed herself through the truck bay of the facility and into the open air. "Don't worry though, you said there was plenty to go around! I'll let you grow as much food as you like!" You slightly perked up at the notion of still getting to fulfill your dream. She stood up to her full height of forty feet and stretched as another growth surge moved through her. "After all..." She continued, "A growing girl like me has a big appetite. I'm going to need all the food you can grow." She planted her massive ass back on the ground now, leaning back and spreading her legs before setting two fingers to work on herself. Her growth seemed to accelerate as she pleasured herself. The empty vials clattered and clicked against one another, waiting to be filled for her as her first of many orgasms shook the very earth. 'Fuck that's hot.' You thought to yourself, pushing the last remnants of your goals to end world hunger out of your mind.

#gts #giantess #size kink #sizetumblr #size difference #minigiantess #growth #writing prompt

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ribsofchildhood · 2 years ago

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comprehensive list of edible flowers to celebrate spring!:

magnolias (they taste like ginger)

dandelions (only eat the yellow stuff not the bitter green stuff)

violets (if u make tea from them then add lemon it turns pink! tastes earthy and mildly sweet)

lilac (they're bitter on their own but if you put a flower head in cold water for a couple hours it makes the most divine, refreshing spring drink)

marigolds (kinda peppery, v fun in salads-- used as a sub for saffron in cooking)

rose (the og edible flower, most are very floral and taste like how they smell, they make for an excellent tea as well!)

nasturnium (very peppery, almost like horseradish-- not my fav but if u like it go off i guess)

peonys (mildly sweet, floral flavor and fun to eat off the bush)

wood sorrel (the flowers are small so it barely made it onto this list but they taste like little bombs of green apple so go eat them--also eat the leaves!)

daisy (some say the yellow center tastes like pineapple-- i think its a bit of a stretch but they are sweet and tasty nonetheless!)

red clover (the flower heads can be white or pink-- the pink ones are the sweeter ones)

redbud (these grow on trees in v early spring-- they taste exactly like snap peas.)

always remember to do research before eating any wild plant, and always be 100% certain that u have the right one-- also don't eat stuff that might be contaminated with pesticides

#plants #flowers #wild edibles #edible flowers #nature #cottagecore #flower aesthetic #gremlincore #ive seen a lot of ppl talking abt how the leaves of dandelion are edible #i know #but raw theyre bitter

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milk5 · 1 year ago

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THE MILK5 COFFEE GUIDE VOL. 1

REMOVE #BADBEANS FROM YOUR LIFE FOREVER

If you are a #TrueBlueCoffeeHead and subsisting on supermarket beans and/or frequent visits to big chains like Starbucks, PLEASE help yourself (and your local community, the environment, coffee workers, etc) and buy a pour over filter and freshly roasted, quality beans from a local roaster. Explicitly seek out Fairtrade Organic/Smithsonian Bird Friendly certified beans if possible. The taste of shade-grown coffee is incredibly flavorful AND you can be certain that your beans aren't the product of yucky pesticides, actual slave labor, and the annihilation of millions of acres of rainforest.

To start with what you need, a goose-neck kettle and pour over carafe are good purchases, but a suitably sized mason jar and regular kettle still work on a budget. Learning how to make a great pour over will raise your home coffee game to professional standards without needing to spend literal thousands of dollars on a real grinder/steamer/espresso machine setup -- if you're able to buy all of these items new for less than a thousand dollars, you're going to be down a few hundos in exchange for some pretty shitty machines. Regardless, a pour over setup with good beans will pay for itself VERY rapidly, assuming it replaces frequent Starbucks visits or whatever other chain you were going to. If you frequent a LOCALLY OWNED coffee shop that you like, keep going! You're an important part of the ecosystem.

What about grinding the beans? Should I get pre-ground beans? Would a cheapo blender-like blade grinder work?

NEVER touch a blade grinder again. It doesn't matter as much if you have #BadBeans, but if you have good beans, ALWAYS use a grinder with a burr; blade grinders just chop up your beans randomly into particles of massively varying sizes, leading to simultaneous over-extraction and under-extraction, generally leading to wildly inconsistent flavors and low repeatability. Burrs will always grind the beans into uniform particles and ensure that you're always (more or less, every cup is different to an extent) getting a consistent flavor. Don't buy a burr grinder -- just bring your beans to a local coffee shop, buy a drink, tip well, and ask the barista if they could grind the beans for you when you can clearly tell that they aren't busy. I have NEVER been refused, just go to a place with less sour employees if they won't help you out. Specify the coarseness that you'd like; smaller grounds have a greater surface area, so they're extracted to a greater extent, resulting in a more intense flavor; coarse grounds are the inverse. Lots of people recommend medium-coarse for pour overs (about 80% coarse 20% fine), but I prefer the stronger flavor of medium/drip (dead middle, 50% coarse 50% fine). It's also better to grind your beans periodically, as freshly-ground beans will taste better, but it's fine to have it pre-ground or ground all at once if you aren't able to easily make coffee shop trips every week or two. As far as roasts go, there's an entire gradient for you to explore -- not just the few that I list here; light roasts have a more sour, fruitier flavor, medium roasts are well rounded, and dark roasts are rich and smokey. Medium-dark is my personal favorite.

Experiment!!! It's all about your own taste, after all.

How do I make a good pour over?

Again, it depends on your taste. My go-to is a vigorous fourth-cup of grounds to 300ml of water; this is easily on the stronger end, but it's what works for me. More common ratios are usually weighed out on a kitchen scale, so consider picking one up if you don't already have one. Document your process until you get to your favorite! I always stop the kettle a little before it gets to its terminal temperature, then pour just enough water onto the grounds to let it bloom -- wait for one minute, and then start pouring a small-ish portion of the water onto the grounds every 20 seconds (this is where my own technique varies the most, it usually takes between 3-4 minutes to finish since I'm not pouring standard amounts; some people DO measure their pours for even greater consistency). Use the stopwatch on your phone, it's much better than keeping track in your head. Make sure to distribute the water evenly over the grounds, particularly making sure to wash the grounds off the sides every pour. When I'm finished, I like to immediately take a sip to see if a splash of milk or half-and-half would help or hurt the cup -- I think a very good cup of coffee can easily stand on its own without anything else, but additives can absolutely help depending on your personal preferences. Just be sure to taste the black coffee before you add anything.

What if I like the syrupy sweet drinks? What about iced coffee?

From my experience working at/visiting coffee shops, Monin is the most common syrup brand I see at local places. As far as iced coffee goes, coldbrew would be probably be the superior option -- it's also pretty easy to make at your home. I'm not going to be writing a guide for coldbrew any time soon, so you're out of luck there. I also never steam my milk if I'm doing a pour over, so I can't really point you to an inexpensive way to do that. Just know that the cheap handheld stick-frothers do not do the same thing as an actual steamer.

What was that about certifications?

Fairtrade is a pretty notable certification for food items produced in areas that have a history for being exploited (so pretty much the bulk of the global south), it can get very complex -- read more about it here. The goal is to ensure that the workers and communities involved in the production of the product receive fair, livable wages, that labor conditions are safe and reasonable, and that the decisions around the production of the product are made by those directly involved in the labor. FTO refers to Fairtrade Organic, which just means that it meets the standards of both Fairtrade AND organic production -- I'm not exactly sure if the organic standards are based on where the coffee is sold, produced, or both, but regardless, it's still a bonus; organic coffee will almost ALWAYS be shade-grown, which is the way that coffee grows naturally. Since coffee is an understory tree in nature, shade-grown coffee is produced more slowly and under a canopy and thus does not require the forest to be damaged or destroyed to grow; however, not all organic coffee will necessarily take place in a completely natural, untouched rain forest setting. Industrial non-organic coffee is most often produced under direct sun in gigantic clear-cut monocrop rows and usually with massive usage of potentially harmful inputs like, such as various pesticides and fertilizers. Direct sun coffee grows faster, but it has a distinctly different taste and is easily the most damaging method of coffee production to both the environment and the local communities. Smithsonian Bird-Friendly is the most rigorous certification for coffee in particular; FTO is more or less a pre-requisite to achieve SBF. Coffee likes to grow in tropical, equatorial environments -- these environments are also the areas of the greatest bird diversity in the world (and, really, biodiversity in general) and the destination for most migratory birds during the winter. The coffee industry has destroyed literal millions of acres of rain forest across the world, which has resulted in the death of billions of birds worldwide over the past 50 years. SBF guarantees the FTO criteria PLUS the additional criteria that the coffee must be produced in forests that are more-or-less in their natural state with thriving diversity of endemic species of flora and fauna. It's harder to find SBF-certified coffee than FT(O)-certified coffee, but the Smithsonian website has a handy vendor locator here. I'm not confident that it works beyond U.S. vendors, so I apologize to anyone interested abroad. Note that some of these certifications may be exclusive to particular continents; I need to do more research on the subject, but the tropical forests around the world vary wildly -- this adds a level of complexity to the goals and criteria of a particular certification. I am confident that all of the certifications that I have mentioned apply to South and Central America (and most likely the Caribbean), so keep that in mind. Also, watch out for phony certifications; big corporations frequently buy out existing certification organizations and/or create new green-sounding organizations to fool well-meaning consumers.

Where should my brand new beans come from?

Like wine, the exact qualities of a bean depend on its terroir, or the specific methods and geographic factors involved in its growth. However, some countries have trends in how the coffee is generally grown; some counties will practice shade-growing more than others and some countries will practice direct-sun industrial methods more than others. As a rule of thumb, Arabica beans are mostly grown in shade or partial shade, while Robusta is generally grown in direct sun. Defer to certifications if applicable.

The following areas primarily practice shade-growing:

Mexico

El Salvador

Peru

Panama

Nicaragua

Guatemala

Cuba

Timor

New Guinea

Ethiopia

Burundi

Rwanda

Tanzania

Zambia (*)

Zimbabwe (*)

Papua New Guinea

Sulawesi

Timor + East Timor

India

The following areas primarily practice direct-sun growing:

Colombia

Brazil

Costa Rica

Hawaii

Yemen

Kenya

Angola

Benin

Central African Republic

Congo

Gabon

Ghana

Guinea

Equatorial Guinea

Ivory Coast

Liberia

Nigeria

Sierra Leone

Togo

Cameroon

Madagascar

Malawi (**)

Democratic Republic of the Congo

Sumatra (***)

Java

Vietnam

China

Jamaica

Again, this is just a rule of thumb; there are exceptions to both and I'm sure that I've left out several production areas. Most of this information comes from the blog Coffee and Conservation, written by ornithologist Julie Craves. I've only tried a very small percentage of these origins; so far, my favorites are Sumatran (Arabica, of course) and Peruvian.

*The source that I got this information from mentioned that some avoid Zambian and Zimbabwean coffee due to concerns of it helping fund violent conflict in the area; this particular article, however, is from 2006 and may be wildly out of date. I couldn't find much more info on this topic when I searched elsewhere.

**They primarily produce Arabica with organic methods, despite the sunny conditions.

***Sumatra is likely the most notable coffee-growing island in Asia; while the majority is Robusta grown on plantations that have deforested a horrifyingly large percentage of the island, the Arabica grown in the north is well-known for its far healthier growing conditions (shade + organic, usually) and extremely distinct flavor.

Volume 2?

I may eventually add on to this post, most likely with a Turkish coffee guide coming next. I used to make Turkish coffee quite frequently, but I would need to dig up my old favorite recipe and cezve first. French press and coldbrew stuff will be in the more distant future if at all.

If any of this info looks wrong, let me know and I'll edit the post :-)

Enjoy your cup!!!!

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faggotmox · 13 days ago

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title: eyes wide shut, i promise not to fall awake rating: explicit pairing: Wheeler Yuta/Jon Moxley, Wheeler Yuta/Bryan Danielson, Wheeler Yuta/Claudio Castagnoli, background Yuta/Mox/Claudio/Bryan/Regal word count: 11,526 warnings: rape, past rape, abuse, non-consensual drug use, drugged sex, non-consensual bondage, delusions, drug abuse, budding drug addiction to be clear, mental health issues, inability to distinguish reality from not reality, fantasizing, distant partner, come play, blood play. blood kink, arousal from rape, topping from the bottom, daddy kink, domestic issues, dirty talk, free use (kinda), William Regal Haunts the Narrative, post-traumatic stress disorder, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat notes: shout out to sarah for helping proof this :D more notes under the cut, more tags on ao3 link summary: There's a match Saturday on Collision against Anthony Henry, but Yuta can't even remember what day it is anymore. series: the ancient art of quiet rape, part two

[link to ao3] [ao3 series page] [part one on tumblr]

more authors notes: I strongly urge anyone with issues reading about the experience of not being able to distinguish reality from not reality may not want to read this fic. Through out the work Yuta will be unable to remember a lot of things, and struggles with figuring out whats real and what isn't.

To be clear about some of the above tags: Yuta will be drugged during part of this fic. In other parts he will be popping pills. Yuta does not remember the events of the hospital, or that he was raped. He thinks its just a nightmare. During certain parts of this fic Yuta will fantasize about raping another character, and have dreams about being raped. Mox will mention his past with being raped in an erotic way. Yuta will be aroused by being raped.

I do feel it necessary to explain all of this since this is sensitive. I want people to enjoy this work about erotic rape and erotic abuse, not be hurt by it! (cringe shit I say but mean even though it's cringe).

+++

"Learning to perfect the ancient art of quiet rape, You've always been so warm and calculated, I owe you a thanks, Eyes wide shut, I promise not to fall awake, Lick the guillotine and tell you how the gasoline tastes, The grass is always greener on the other pesticide." --Eyedea & Abilities, 'Burn Fetish'

The house was always quiet. It never used to be like this, but then again there used to be a few more people around. Instead it’s just Yuta, living like a ghost in Bryan’s house. That’s what it is now. Just Bryan’s place. None of them had ever officially moved in but for some reason everyone mostly gravitated to staying there. Yuta just felt like a guest now.

Mostly Bryan was resting. Especially the first few days. There was a lot on his mentor’s mind as he tried to recover, there was a title to defend after all, but they weren’t really speaking. Sure Yuta asked what Bryan needed, how he was doing, what they would have to eat, and so on. Bryan answered. Sure they spoke here and there, but they didn't talk.

The thing was, Yuta knew he was acting strange. Lately everything made his skin crawl, every sound made him jump. Anything salty was likely to tip him into an anxiety attack. He felt like a shell of a person, terrified of nothing he could understand. Most of the time he was barely present. All day he spent checking on Bryan or training, at night he couldn’t sleep so he watched matches.

In the mirror Yuta could see the toll of sleeplessness. The nightmare plagued the young man even when he was awake. Every reiteration left Yuta with less memory, but more of a vivid feeling. Something that couldn’t be shaken off. Clinging to him like plastic, suffocating and uncomfortable.

There was so much Yuta couldn’t hide, and while he knew Bryan was recovering as well as dealing with his own trauma, the man never seemed to notice. For Yuta’s own health he had to write it off as Bryan just dealing with his own stuff. Sure, that was understandable. After all, it was Bryan who actually went through something.

“Hey, Wheeler?” Bryan’s still hoarse voice asked over the sound of cooking.

“Hm?” Yuta wasn’t actually listening, he was paying attention to the pan as he made dinner. Not really, he was actually completely zoned out.

“Why haven’t you been staying in the bed with me?” Bryan asked but he wasn’t looking at the younger man. There was a slight uncomfortableness to him even bringing it up.

“Hm.” Yuta just shrugged, not hearing the question.

“Yuta.” Bryan’s voice was louder, a little mad now. It snapped the other out of it.

“What? Sorry. My head’s somewhere else, Bryan,” Yuta admitted, glancing over to see how much he pissed his mentor off.

“Yeah. I noticed.” The slight snark to it made Yuta wince. “I just asked why you hadn’t been staying in the bed with me.”

“I…” Yuta put the spatula down so he could lean on the counter. “Just figured you needed space while you recovered.”

“Thoughtful of you,” Bryan mumbled sarcastically.

There was something that just snapped in Yuta. Hands balling up into fists as he tried to control himself. A few deep breaths until he was able to turn off the stove. Yuta turned sharply to face Bryan sitting at the breakfast bar.

“Honestly, I can’t fucking sleep, Bryan. I didn’t want to be keeping you up. So fuck you.” Yuta made sure he didn’t raise his voice, forcing the rage boiling inside of him to a simmer.

“Hey, hey. I’m sorry.” Bryan got up to come hold Yuta. Normally it’d be sweet but today it made Yuta want to scream. “You are being thoughtful. I just…missed you in bed.”

“Oh…” Yuta shrank into the hug, putting his arms around the shorter man. “Sorry.”

“It’s a two way street, right?” Bryan kissed the younger man’s cheek. “Have you tried taking your Xanax before bed? They make you really sleepy.”

“Not really. They’re for panic attacks so I didn’t think about that,” Yuta admitted, realizing he could do that. “Fuck it. Haven’t slept since you were released. I’ll take one after dinner and we can go to sleep.”

“Only if you think it’ll help. It was just a suggestion.” Bryan finally let go.

“Yeah. I do think it’ll help.” Yuta nodded, sure that it couldn't hurt at least.

Right after they ate, Yuta took a pill before cleaning up the kitchen. Bryan said he had a little headache so he needed to lay down. That was fine, Yuta wasn’t too worried about it. For a while he’d work on the dishes and when he got too tired he’d go upstairs.

The slow ascent up the steps exhausted Yuta. Each foot weighed down by dread. Despite this being what he wanted from Bryan, wanting to be noticed in his own suffering, it just felt bad. Anxiety and worry were overpowering even the medication the closer he got to the bedroom.

It felt strange, almost dreamlike to walk into the bedroom. Everything was practically how it was the last time Yuta was here. Like a time capsule of before. The sheets were different than they had been before the weekend. It was jarring to see that none of Mox or Claudio’s scattered things weren’t thrown out or even put away.

Yuta was too exhausted to think about it as he sat on the edge of the bed, opposite where the sleeping Dragon laid. House shoes kicked off, Yuta slid into bed fully clothed. The room was cool but not cold enough for a hoodie, sweatpants, or even his socks. He made sure to stay out of the covers, pushing them over towards Bryan who was already asleep.

Even with the Xanax sleep was elusive. Every so often he’d nod off but he wouldn’t sleep. As the minutes ticked by, Yuta lost more and more patience. The room was too quiet; the sound of Yuta’s racing thoughts were loud like bumps on the mat. The temperature of the room seemed to fluctuate between way too hot and slightly too cold.

In an act of frustration Yuta fished the pill bottle out of his pocket. Shaking out two more light blue pills to go into his mouth. There had to be relief somewhere, right now it looked like it might be at the bottom of the bottle. Yuta remembered Mox half jokingly telling him that if he chewed the pills up they’d hit faster, so he did that.

To balance out the advice from the other man, Yuta started doing some of the breathing exercises Bryan taught him. Slowly things started to even out as the combination of breathing and chewing the pills sent the tingling of calm. Closing his eyes, Yuta was finally met with darkness instead of ghosts.

+++

As soon as Yuta woke up he knew something was wrong. This wasn’t the same bedroom he had fallen asleep in. As he looked around, heart beating out of his chest he realized that he was at…Claudio’s place? It was the guest bedroom that nobody really used. Except most of Yuta’s things were there. Everything that was important to him seemed to be in the room.

Panic was flooding the young man as he got out of the bed, the covers were thrown back violently. Yuta ran towards the door, but his heart sank when the handle didn’t move.

“What the fuck, what the fuck.” Yuta rushed around the room but couldn’t figure out what he was looking for.

It felt like hours went by, but Yuta ran out of steam early. It seemed impossible. Everything was surreal. Like the fact there was a bathroom he didn’t remember from before. The door was heavy and he knew he wouldn't be able to get it open. He thought there was a window in this room but it was nowhere to be found.

A loud knock came at the door finally. The silence had lulled Yuta into a dreamlike state and the noise made him jump up to his feet, stumbling slightly. The hinges to the door didn’t make any noise as it opened. On the other side was Mox, a big grin on his face as he strolled inside. Jeans slung low with a sway to his hips. No shirt for some reason, giving Yuta a glorious view of his hairy chest.

“Hey, kid. Glad you’re up. Feeling okay?” Mox didn’t seem to mind the door latching behind him as he got closer. “Gave you a bit to cal--”

“What the fuck is this, Jon?!” Yuta shouted, so much anger welling up.

“Um…it’s the thing you wanted, man. I didn’t decide on this. I didn’t come up with it, or let myself be here. You wanted this.” Mox frowned, a look of hurt coming across his face. “Remember? At the hospital when we talked about this?”

“What? What hospital? I don’t know what the fuck you’re on about, Jon!” Yuta snapped. “Why are my drums here? Why is my computer here? All my clothes, books, movies, what the hell is this! Answer me!”

“Fucking christ. You gotta calm the fuck down. We got your fuckin’ pills too.” Mox pointed towards the nightstand. “If you relax, I’ll refresh your damn memory.”

“Calm down? You’ve got me locked in some damn room--” Yuta’s fists balled up as he contained his rage at being cut off.

“Just shut up for a minute.” Mox waved him off. “When we were at the hospital in Chicago we talked about how we wanted to keep you locked up, free to use whenever we wanted, the only time we let you out is to go wrestle.”

“Wha…” Yuta’s brain was flooded with all that memory. “We didn’t agree-- I didn’t--”

“We all know this is exactly where you want to be.” Mox sighed as he glanced back at the door. “I’ll go, if you still need to adjust. I just wanted to get my dick wet, honestly.”

“You just wanted to get your fucking dick wet? Do you hear yourself?!” Yuta took a step closer.

“I hear myself, kid. I know exactly what’s going on.” Mox’s face darkened as he stepped closer too. The threatening action made Yuta pause. “This is the whole reason you’re here. It’s what you’re good for. So I can go, give you more time to relax, but the longer you make me wait the worse it gets.”

The hospital came to mind as the threat set in. The violent violation by his fellow faction mates allowed cracks to form in Yuta, hairline fractures that weakened him as a whole. Mox knew that, even if Yuta didn’t. A little pressure on the right part would cause him to shatter. Being blindsided by his own mental state, Yuta just stared. How could this be real? Surely Bryan would notice he was missing or something?

One large hand landed on Yuta’s shoulder, moving around to the back of his neck. Gripping, holding tight but it wasn’t rough. Mox wasn’t hurting him, just pulling him closer and closer.

“Bryan ain’t coming to find you. You’ve already been gone for three days, kid.” Mox spoke quietly, slowly like he was breaking bad news.

“No, no. That’s…Bryan wouldn’t…” Yuta started to shake his head but he knew it was true. He knew that Bryan may not even notice he was missing because his mentor didn’t really care.

“I could give you your phone right now and there wouldn’t be a missed call or text from daddy.” Mox tacked on the last part just to be cruel, to really drive it home. That broke Yuta more as he started crying. “You don’t got a match for a while either, so no one at work is wonderin’.”

“Jon, please,” Yuta begged as everything inside of him crumbled.

“So, is it now or later? I’m getting impatient here.” Mox sighed as he let go, finally looking away.

Yuta stared at the older man as the gravity of the situation started to sink in. This was his new world. It felt insane to just drop to his knees but what other choice did he have? Eventually they’d just take what they wanted from him; that much Yuta learned the night at the hospital. At least he could save himself some pain maybe if he just sank to his knees now.

+++

The bedroom was bright and sunny, a window open to hear nature’s tune. Light sparkled through the currents. Sheets and comforters cocooned Yuta in the empty bed. It was hard to orient himself but Yuta focused on slowing down his breathing. Something was making the bed shake, it took a moment for Yuta to realize it was him.

Shaking like a leaf would be an understatement. Yuta was trembling. Even being all wrapped up, with the addition of his heavy choice in pajamas, didn’t stop it. In fact Yuta could feel himself sweating profusely, his heart jackhammering like he’d just spent an hour running the ropes.

As everything eased back into reality, Yuta was able to slowly get out of the bedding. The clothes he wore to bed were drenched in sweat, but at least it wasn’t on the bed. Cool air ran past his body but did little to quell the heat.

Once Yuta was up on his feet he noticed how bad he felt. Maybe he’d caught something. His throat felt raw and scratchy, all his joints were aching, and he had a headache despite just waking up. The clothes were sticking to his skin uncomfortably.

The hoodie was stripped first, tossed to the side as socked feet took Yuta to the bathroom. It was too bright but Yuta couldn’t do anything about it. His balance had yet to even out so he held onto the sink as he walked by, glancing at his ghostly form in the mirror.

Cold water ran into the sink, swirling down the drain as Yuta started at himself. He looked awful. Even though he slept his eyes still had bags under them, he was pale, and looked vaguely sick. Yuta could admit the look in his eyes was bad, he looked like he’d given up. Something was broken inside of him but he had no idea what.

At this point Yuta couldn’t remember basically anything from the nightmare he’d had at the hospital. Now he could barely recall the one that had just happened. It was starting to really piss him off that he just had no recollection of the things haunting him, he couldn't see them so he couldn’t deal with them.

“Stress, huh.” Yuta rolled his eyes, remembering the nurse expressing concern about his stress.

Finally, Yuta bent down to wash his face off. The cool water added a refreshing relief. Everything else started cooling down too. Getting all the grime and sweat off his face made Yuta feel significantly more human.

“Where is Bryan?” Yuta muttered to himself as he dried off his hands.

It wasn’t like Bryan was supposed to be anywhere. Bed rest had been prescribed for nearly a week. The first thing Yuta did was find his phone on the bedside table. The battery was low since the night before he hadn’t cared much if his phone was charged. The display didn’t have any messages, nothing from his mentor.

There was the possibility that Bryan was somewhere downstairs but after a quick sweep there was no one. Not even in the garden. Both of their cars were there, which was good since Bryan wasn’t supposed to be driving.

It annoyed Yuta to wake up alone. No message or indicator of where his injured partner was at. Of course Bryan just took off, that was just what he was good at. Yuta groaned to himself as he tried to back track that line of thought. After all, Bryan probably just didn’t want to wake him up since he knew Yuta hadn’t been sleeping. Not that it was even good sleep. Yuta felt more tired than he had the day before.

After some contemplation Yuta decided to just go take a shower. That would probably do him some good, right, and he’d find some fresh clothes too.

+++

The hot water cascaded over Yuta’s body while he ducked under the spray. It was probably too hot, his skin already taking on a pink tone. Something needed to be washed away, even if Yuta couldn’t articulate what it was that he needed to clean off himself.

Ever since the PPV it was like a layer of filth was stuck to Yuta’s skin. Each shower did nothing to rid him of the disgusting feeling. Something was weaving its way through his skin, sewing patches of filth over the cracks. Every pore felt like it was seeping and oozing.

Without looking, Yuta reached over to the shelf to grab body wash. A few bottles clattered over, one even rolling off. It stayed at the bottom of the shower; Yuta was too preoccupied to care. The faded red washcloth was lathered up quickly, and taken to his own skin like sandpaper.

Every inch of tan skin was scrubbed red raw. The strong smell of sandalwood emanated from the suds, a tiny hint of vanilla. It was hypnotic, and Yuta paused with his chest and arms done. The bubbles were washed off patches of raw skin as the smell lingered, assaulting Yuta’s memories like a punching bag.

“Fuck, Mox.” Yuta’s moans echoed in the tiled shower.

Yuta could recall the scent well. Even during training, all sweaty and wet, Yuta could smell the lingering notes of sandalwood and vanilla on Mox. It was one of the things he loved when Mox would cuddle up to him or sit too close. Comfortable and safe, until a few days prior.

Looking down, Yuta saw himself getting hard at the memories of Mox. Strong muscle, coarse hair, and the smell. Cigarettes, sandalwood, and just a little vanilla. As Yuta’s cock filled out his mind brought up images of Mox, but he fixated on a memory he had of the other man.

Hand on his cock Yuta envisioned Mox, in some nondescript hotel room with sheets to match. Sometimes if Mox was tired enough he’d fall asleep in his towel after a shower. Laying face down on the bed, Mox’s back glistened, still damp and warmed from the water. Yuta thought about all the details.

The way Mox’s scars caught water, how his body hair dried. The way the sleeping man had both arms under his head as a pillow. One foot slightly off the bed. Peaceful slumber painted his face as Yuta stepped closer and closer. One hand undoing his belt, quietly pulling it through each loop.

The tantalizing scene in Yuta’s head played out as he stroked his throbbing cock. A light hand worked his shaft so he didn’t get too excited. This was a fantasy he wanted to actually experience instead of rush through. It wasn’t something he’d ever indulged with before now, and he didn’t know why that changed.

In his mind Yuta started undoing the button and zipper of his jeans as he got to the hotel bed. One knee planted between Mox’s legs as he reached up to bring the other man’s hands down. It took a few seconds to thread his belt around Mox’s wrist until he was tied up.

“Yoots?” Mox muttered, his tired face turning towards the younger man.

“Yeah, Mox?” Yuta started to peel the towel back to reveal one of the best asses he’d ever seen. Thick muscles sculpted into two beautiful globes. “So hot.”

“Wha’s up?” Mox shook his wrists, sleepiness still affecting his judgment.

“Don’t worry about that, baby,” Yuta assured the other as he moved around.

“‘Kay.” Mox let his head fall back onto the bed, eyes closing because of the trust he had in his young boy.

Yuta mounted Mox with ease, his cock slipping between the other’s cheeks. The rush of power and euphoria made Yuta’s head spin. There was a slight grunt from Mox as the weight settled down and the rough material of jeans scratched his skin. It didn’t matter, not to Yuta, and neither did the uncomfortable position his prey was in.

Below him there was some shifting from Mox as he realized how uncomfortable the position felt. A slight strain of the back and tensing of muscles let Yuta know the other was exactly where he wanted. Hands started tracing the damp scars, finding nonexistent patterns and shapes.

“Hm?” Mox tried to look back.

“Ready for me, baby?” Yuta grunted as he sat up on his knees, pushing the other’s legs further apart.

“No? I don’t…wha?” Mox shook his head as he felt the pressure against his hole.

No lube or prep went into it. It took a lot of effort to push in, and when he did Mox howled in pain. The belt was tugged and pulled but kept Mox immobilized as Yuta fucked into him. It felt so good, Yuta thought, as he slammed into the man below him.

“Fuck! Wheeler!” Mox cried out. “Please!”

“Please what, bitch?” Yuta was breathless, losing all composure.

“Stop!” Mox cried. “It hurts. Please?”

“Stop? You want me to stop?” Yuta breathlessly spoke as he leaned over Mox’s back. “No. I’m taking what’s mine.”

The hot water of the shower washed the seed away as Yuta came hard into his hand. It was good, even satisfying, Yuta realized as he came down from the euphoria. The fantasy stayed there, playing more even after Yuta finished. Thinking about the way Mox would fight back, wiggling to get away maybe. The violence of the situation made Yuta feel like he could go again.

Before he could delve more into this newly uncovered fantasy, the bathroom door opened. Yuta jumped, turning to look even though the glass of the door was fogged over. The place was filled with steam from the too hot shower, even wiping the glass didn’t help. For some reason Yuta’s anxiety ramped up thinking it was maybe Mox or Claudio, he wasn’t exactly sure why that also made him even more horny.

“Wheeler?” Bryan’s voice called. “You better be in there. That’s a lot of water to wa--”

“I’m here. Yeah.” Yuta squeaked, quickly reaching out to turn the temperature down. “Are you okay? You weren’t here when I woke up.”

“I’m good.” Bryan’s cheerful voice played over the rushing of water. “I went for a run af--”

Yuta threw the door of the shower open frantically.

“You went for a run? Bryan, you’re not cleared!” Yuta shouted, suddenly unreasonably angry. “What the hell is wrong with you? After what happ--”

“Wheeler, Wheeler. Relax.” Bryan frowned. “I went this morning while you slept after I got medically cleared to start training again. I’m fine.”

“That was today?” Yuta looked the other man over. Seeing his boyfriend in running gear made his stomach knot up. “I-I was supposed to go with you.”

“It was just a doctor’s appointment. You were asleep finally so I didn’t wake you up. Wheeler, you’ve got a match soon and you’ve not slept at all.” Bryan cocked his head to the side. “You don’t even know what day it is.”

“I-I-” Yuta closed his eyes tightly as he tried to focus and figure out what the fuck was happening.

“You’re wasting water, Wheeler,” Bryan pointed out with disappointment.

“Sorry.” Yuta turned to get back in so he could turn the water off completely. “I just wanted to be there, Bryan.” The fluffy blue towel wrapped around Yuta’s waist as he hung his head.

“You leave tonight for Ohio,” Bryan sighed as he finished undressing.

“I do?” Yuta considered the days, frowning at the mirror. When had he lost so many days? “Uh, wh-who am I--?”

“Fuck. You don’t even know? I need you to focus, Wheeler, okay? Do you understand me?” Bryan’s stern voice felt like a cheese grater. “You’re wrestling Anthony Henry in Ohio on Collision.”

“Okay. Well.” Yuta shrugged, finally standing up right. “I can beat Henry.”

“Not if you’re going to be this distracted. Not knowing what day it is, who you’re matched up against, not training, not sleeping. You’re going to forget your boots too.” Bryan rolled his eyes.

“Fuck you. I’ve been--” Yuta paused, unable to articulate anything.

“You’ve been what, Wheeler?” Bryan shook his head. “You’ve been distracted. Figure it out. You can’t let what happened distract you. Got it?”

The nerve of Bryan saying that struck something in Yuta. For a moment he just stared at the other man, trying to figure out what was going on. Maybe Bryan was in denial or something, Yuta couldn’t just ask. Neither one of them was ready to talk about it. Clearly.

“Got it.” Yuta nodded curtly before exiting the bathroom.

+++

Traveling alone, to Ohio no less, was a tough experience. Even though Yuta had traveled by himself before this felt different. This was alone. There wasn’t going to be anyone waiting for him here or on the connecting flight, not at the hotel or even the arena. Even Bryan couldn’t do the drop off since he wasn’t supposed to be driving yet.

Not that Bryan seemed to want to take his prodigy. That was something Yuta had to just chalk up to Bryan still being messed up from Chicago. That was what he had to keep telling himself about a lot of things.

The whole trip was numbing. No excitement or anxiety bubbling up. Granted that could have been the excess of pills he had been taking. By the time Yuta got into his hotel room he was ready to pass out. At least he hoped he was, because he still hadn’t slept. The night before didn’t count because he woke up still exhausted.

In the morning Yuta had to get up to work out, something he promised his mentor. Now he was thinking about just skipping it. No one would notice. Sleeping was probably more important. Another pill was popped while the rest sat on the bedside table.

Despite best efforts, Yuta tossed and turned unable to fully rest. There weren’t any vivid, unrememberable nightmares this time. Small things to be thankful for, he thought while staring at the shadows passing across the ceiling. Yuta tried not to think about how the morning would come soon, leaving him unrested for his match.

Yuta let his mind wander since nothing else was working. Slowly his eyes drifted closed to the fantasy he had about Mox while in the shower. The way Mox looked while struggling, the sounds he was making. It was easy to conjure up the scene, after all Yuta knew Mox pretty well at this point.

It had never occurred to Yuta he may have a rape kink, but here he was fantasizing about just that. Yuta also didn’t take long, just thinking about Mox begging him to stop sending him over. Come spilled over into his hand with a grunt, still thinking about forcing Mox.

Getting up was out of the question so Yuta just cleaned himself off with his t-shirt. The smear of come across the old BCC logo wasn’t lost on him. Settling back in Yuta realized he was still thinking about it. What would it be like to force such a strong man? Make him beg and cry?

As Yuta pondered just those things he started to drift off, finding peace as he fell asleep. Actually fell asleep, and the sleep was good. Relief and recovery flooded Yuta, he was sure he could have slept for days if not for the courtesy call from the front desk. The one Bryan made him set up just to be sure Yuta got some training in and didn’t oversleep.

Training was the last thing the young man wanted to do. The hotel gym was empty since it was so early. Yuta tried to motivate himself through the workout by telling himself he could go straight back to bed until it was show time. There just wasn't anything there. No drive or focus.

“I can beat Henry,” Yuta mumbled to himself.

The reflection from the mirror caught the haunted look. The stress, pain, and disconnection all etched into his face. Exhaustion stayed creeping around the edges, threatening to reinvade. Breaks in the mask that Yuta put on for everyone else, little fractures that would soon become a serious threat.

Considering how he had been eating lately, which was nothing at all, Yuta realized he needed to eat if he was going to wrestle tonight. Even though Yuta wasn't hungry he figured that could be why he looked so terrible. There wasn’t much he had been eating lately. Once up in his room Yuta called for room service, ordering a decent sized breakfast and coffee. The likelihood of him eating everything was slim but at least there would be coffee.

By the time the bell boy came by with Yuta’s breakfast he was showered and watching some movie. After handing off the tip Yuta sat down as the guy left the room. None of the food looked that good to him as he stared down what he ordered. After heavy consideration the coffee and the waffles were taken first. Settling back on the couch to watch the movie, so he had a distraction while he ate.

“Nothing?” The head FBI agent asked in the movie.

“Nothing,” the main guy responded.

“Go home, kid. Get the hell outta here. Get some sleep. You look like shit. They get anything even resembles your guy, I'm on your beeper. Here. You like feta?” The boss agent was offering food to the main guy.

“Feta. My favorite.”

Yuta wasn’t paying much attention, but he realized he’d seen this movie a lot. Like a lot. Enough to remember most of the lines.

“Johnny…” the boss agent said as Yuta finally looked up at the screen, drinking his lukewarm hotel coffee. “All I wanna know is one thing, why didn't you just take the shot?”

“I don't know,” Johnny responded.

“I see why Mox thinks this movie is hot,” Yuta mumbled against the ceramic edge of the cup as the next scene rolled around.

Most of the coffee was gone so quick, Yuta figured it was time to dive into the food. Nothing looked good, but nothing had for days now. The first bite of waffle was actually fantastic. Yuta moaned softly as he started eating quicker. The sweet fluffiness filled Yuta up. New life came over him as he felt warmer and happier as soon as the food hit his stomach.

Even Yuta’s anxiety and depression were lifting. The slow, deep ache he was constantly feeling started to recede. Weight was taken from his shoulders allowing him to actually relax, sinking into the couch as the movie flashed interestingly in front of him. Food practically forgotten about, his entire existence changed.

The couch was breaking away leaving Wheeler feeling like he was floating in water. Gently drifting along the surface in the calm, cool currents. Waves gently rolling onto the beach. A liquid lull that nearly pulled Yuta into blessed sleep. Eyes and body getting heavier like sand washing up on the shore.

The movie played on regardless of Yuta’s state. Mesmerizing colors traced across the scene. As the weight of exhaustion dragged Yuta down he finally drifted off for a moment, thinking about how he needed to set an alarm. Just in case he overslept, but he couldn't will his body into action.

Just as the last bit of consciousness left Yuta he could have sworn he heard the mechanical lock whirling to life on the door. Someone was coming into the hotel room. Even the threat of an unknown person in the room couldn’t motivate Yuta into doing anything more than tip his head to the side to try to see.

“Hey, you’re watching my favorite movie, prince.” Mox’s voice floated through Yuta’s psyche.

+++

Stress. It was all the stress. Like the nurse had said back when Bryan was in the hospital, stress is a very serious thing. This was another stress nightmare. That was the only way Yuta could accept what was happening. Even everything felt the same as that night, as fleeting as Yuta’s memory was of that event.

Slowly waking up to a much darker hotel, it was difficult for Yuta to adjust. The TV was still playing the movie, the food was still out, and he was still on the couch. Somehow it felt different, even looked a little different. Like a dream.

Just like a dream Mox was standing there. Beautifully basked in the glow of his preferred movie, attention captivated by the moving frames. The three quarter profile really showed Mox off to Yuta as he scanned over the shirtless frame of his boyfriend (yes, ex). The trim waist made Mox’s ass pop. Yuta’s eyes hovered over the thick muscles of the other man’s backside before moving up to examine his abs and the way muscle flexed around Mox’s ribcage, and perfectly defined pecs covered in wiry hair.

On screen the final fight between the two guys played, Mox’s eyes locked onto the image. While Patrick Swazye and Keanu Reeves backdropped each other, Mox started undoing his jeans. There was an audible sigh from the pseudo king at the relief. The light blue jockstrap peeked out from under the jeans slipping down his hips.

“This has gotta be a dream,” Yuta muttered as he let his head fall back.

“There’s my prince.” Mox easily tore his eyes away from the screen to smile at his young boy, preferring Yuta to his own favorite movie.

“Wha’s goin’ on, Jon?” Yuta hated not being able to speak well, his words bleeding out at the ends.

“You have a match tonight,” Mox mentioned as he walked around to stand over the other. “You almost done?”

“Wha?” Yuta blinked a few times before he heard another voice.

“One minute and I’ll be finished, King.” Claudio’s voice came from behind the couch.

“Wha’ the fuck?” Yuta jumped, trying to move but nothing moved. In fact something pulled.

“Don’t start that, sweetheart.” Mox reached out to run his fingers through Yuta’s hair, pacifying the panic with affection. “Claudio’s just making sure you’re secure, then it’ll be just the two of us.”

“Jus’ t’two of us?” Yuta blinked up at the other man. Feelings came back to him as he remembered the hospital, instead of being afraid he was confused and horny. Just like now.

“Finished.” Claudio’s voice came over the room once more.

“That was exactly one minute.” Mox grinned over the couch at the other.

“I know,” Claudio acknowledged as he walked around to look at the young man on the couch. “We didn’t want you to strain yourself before your match.”

Mox nodded along, hand coming up to cup the back of Claudio’s head to pull him down for a kiss. Just as they had at the hospital the pair bit more than kissed. Mox did all the biting as he bit into Claudio’s mouth until the larger man bled. There wasn’t as much red as there had been but Claudio wore it proudly, stars lighting up his eyes as he looked down at Mox.

“You’re good,” Mox muttered against the other’s lips.

“I am?” Claudio’s whisper made Yuta feel like this was a moment he wasn’t supposed to experience. It felt odd, out of place. It kind of made the younger man feel even more like he was in a fever dream.

“You are.” Mox placed the larger man’s hand over the tacky cross necklace he had been wearing.

“Thank you, King.” Claudio bowed his head to the other man before starting to step back, but the ‘King’ stopped him.

“If you’d like to say anything to him, give him a little something.” Mox nodded towards Yuta. “Want him to remember who cares about him after all.”

“It is your night--” Claudio shook his head humbly as if he couldn’t even consider taking this time away from his king.

“Remember when it comes to the prince, he’s ours,” Mox insisted.

Yuta was sure he was in some sort of fever dream now. It wasn’t just the fog in his brain. It wasn’t often Claudio was vulnerable like that, in so few words. To Yuta that wasn’t something his old boyfriend would do. Or maybe he was just in denial about what was happening? Thoughts raced back and forth until Claudio came over.

“Sweetheart.” Claudio knelt down, one knee on the carpet just like a knight paying respect.

“Claudio?” Yuta felt teary eyed for some reason.

“I want you to know something very important.” Claudio made sure they kept eye contact, making sure their young boy was listening. “You are an incredible wrestler. Accept your violence. I can tell no one has been taking care of you during this time.” There was a pause where the Swiss giant had to collect himself. “I know you must be exhausted, but you have tonight under control.”

“Wha’?” Yuta recoiled at the faithful trust the other still had in him.

“You can beat Henry any day of the week, under any conditions. I know you can because I trained you.” Claudio bowed his head. “Do not let anyone make you believe you can’t handle what you’re doing tonight. You’ll win, sweetheart.”

“I-I-” Yuta felt himself start to cry a little. Crisp, high emotions soared through every space in his body as the words being directed towards him. “--love you.”

“I love you too.” Claudio leaned forward to catch the other’s lips in a sickeningly sweet kiss sealed in the older man’s blood. “I’ll leave you two to it.”

The tall man stood up from his place kneeling in front of Yuta. Walking away towards the door like a ghost leaving the scene of a haunting. Every weird, strange feeling Yuta had been grappling with welled up like a tsunami, crashing against the sides of his skull. Yuta felt like he might drown in it.

Suddenly it all stopped. Calm waters washed over the shores. Yuta felt himself coming back down from the emotional high. The strange confessional left Yuta heartbroken and motivated in what he previously considered wrong directions. He closed his eyes, letting his head fall back.

At some point it permeated Yuta that Claudio had been tying him up. The crafty freak was able to tie him down. Arms stretched over the back of the coarse hotel couch, wrists tied. There was just enough slack to not strain him. Both ankles were tied in some web Yuta couldn’t figure out. Probably anchored to the feet of the couch, but he wasn’t exactly sure.

What Yuta was sure about was that he was naked. All the clothes he had been wearing seemed to have vanished when he woke up. Not only was he nude, but his cock laid half hard against his thigh. Clearly interested in whatever this was, after all he had been jerking off to the reverse of this not long ago. (Maybe it was a wet dream, Yuta tried to convince himself).

“Hey, baby.” Mox smiled fondly as he walked over to his young boy. “How’re you doing?”

“Don’ know.” Yuta admitted as his eyes honed in on the other man’s crotch. “Wha’s goin’ on?”

“I just wanted to see you before your match,” Mox admitted, a little shrug. “Been thinkin’ about you.”

“Huh.” Yuta couldn’t think of much more to say because Mox looked genuine. The cute puppy quality to the man’s eyes was there. It was the first hint Yuta really saw of his old boyfriend.

“I know you’re going through a lot right now. Everything seems too big and terrifying, I’m sure. Just trust us, okay?” Mox was in nothing but the jock that Yuta was pretty sure he got for the pseudo king. “I wanted it to be just the two of us right now.”

“Trust you?” Yuta laughed at that, maybe that wasn’t fair in such a tender moment but he couldn’t stop himself.

“Yeah. Trust us.” Mox frowned, reaching out to stroke Yuta’s beard. It was untamed at the moment. “Same way you trust Claudio to do your beard on match days.”

“I donno,” Yuta admitted, his eyes growing soft and heavy until he let them close. It was nice to feel affection again that didn’t make his skin crawl.

“That’s okay. I know. Claudio knows.” Mox let his hand drop to the back of the couch so he could move onto the couch himself, settling right on top of his young boy’s lap. “You’re ours, Wheeler. You belong with us. Sooner you realize that the better.”

There were too many words swimming around so Mox leaned in to kiss Yuta softly. Easy and calm, nothing like Yuta was expecting. Their lips danced together, tongues meeting. It was so good, lighting everything up for the younger man as he gave himself over. Slowly Mox started rocking his hips, allowing Yuta to rub his cock against the exposed ass on top of him.

Soft moans were exchanged as they both got into it. The ropes tugged when Yuta tried to move to touch the beautiful body above him. Mox snickered a little at Yuta’s whine. Large hands started to explore since the younger man clearly wanted to. Some kind of denial torment that made Yuta’s pulse quicken. Just the right kind of touches to really stir his appetite.

The hands stayed gentle as Mox’s mouth descended on his young boy’s neck. The rough bites and nips were playful. It felt good enough that Yuta tipped his head to the side so that the other had more skin. Mox was easily entertained, much like a puppy with a new chew toy, just gnawing at the hard muscles.

“Been worried about ya.” Mox finally stopped the oral assault to speak. “Like our big guy said, no one’s been taking care of you.”

“M’fine,” Yuta muttered, his hips rolling as his aching erection called for more attention.

“Don’t lie to me.” Mox cupped the younger man’s cheek, making them see eye to eye. “You don’t have to.”

“I--” Yuta’s head was so foggy he had no idea what he was thinking. “Dreamed o’you?”

“Asking or telling me that, kid?” Mox sat up, shifting back on the lap he was perched on.

“Tellin’.” Yuta blinked a few times, willing the haze to go away. “Oh fuck, Mox.”

A wet, warm hand wrapped around Yuta’s aching dick, a light squeeze that sent sparks all over his body. He felt heightened. Just that touch nearly had Yuta ending prematurely. The gentle glide of Mox’s hand was all he could focus on anymore.

“Feel good, baby?” Mox grinned, leaning in for another kiss. This time it was quicker. “Tell me your dream.”

“Ah. Dreamin’ righ’ now.” Yuta shrugged, or at least attempted to.

“That what it feels like, Wheeler? You’re dreamin’?” Mox questioned.

“Yeah. It’s ’ll warm an’ soft.” Yuta moaned at the skilled way the other knew his way around the cock in hand. “Feels good.”

“Tell me about your dream, sweetheart.” Mox returned to the topic at hand.

“S’not very nice,” Yuta admitted.

“Good. I like it when you’re mean.” Mox let go of his young boy’s cock.

“No,” Yuta whined and opened his eyes.

“Relax. Tell me the dream anyways.” Mox pushed as he repositioned himself over the hard dick he just had in his hand.

“Fuck, Mox.” Yuta was paying more attention as he felt the head of his cock press against Mox’s wet hole. Slight pressure. “Please, please, Wanna fuck you again…”

“You will, sweet prince. You will.” Mox groaned loudly, totally unashamed as he slowly took Yuta’s cock.

“It-- I--” Yuta could’t focus but he wanted to answer. Actually wanted to reveal himself to his tormentor.

“That’s it, Wheeler, fuck. You fill me so fuckin’ good.” Mox let out a sigh of relief as he seated himself fully on the younger man.

“R-Raped you,” Yuta confessed as they looked into each other’s eyes, deeply connected via each other’s bodies.

It wasn't just that Yuta saw how much that turned on Mox. He could feel it too. The insanely tight passage clenched around Yuta’s cock. There was a slight swivel of hips too. The aggressive hunger on Mox’s face pried more details out of the younger man.

“T-Tied your hands…up.” Yuta bit his lip as the man in his lap started moving. “W-With…my belt.”

“Fuck, Wheeler, I’m--” Mox shook his head as he started to really fuck himself. “I wish you had.”

“Fucked,” Yuta said breathlessly, not able to put the phrase together without a pause. “Dry.”

“Bet you did.” Mox groaned, one of his hands lacing through Yuta’s locks at the back of his head. “Fucked me dry until I cried, huh?” The hand tightened, pulling the younger man’s head back hard. “That’s so fuckin’ hot, you don’t even know.”

“It is?” Yuta couldn’t believe that but he thought it was hot obviously.

“Fuck, yeah. You wanna rape me, Wheeler? Make me your bitch? Maybe pay me back for all the shit I did?” Mox grinned at the wide eyed look directed at him.

“Yes!” Yuta nearly found himself shouting, trying to thrust up into Mox but finding little room.

“I want you to too,” Mox confessed right in Yuta’s ear.

Yuta felt his eyes roll back in his head. It was too much. Everything was too hot again. There was a burning inside of the young man, a need to take something back. All he wanted was to be able to break free of the ropes and throw Mox onto the floor. Hell, it seemed like even Mox wanted that. But the ropes didn’t budge. Of course not, Yuta thought to himself, this was exactly where he wanted to be after all.

For some reason Mox started to slow down. A slow, gradual rocking of the hips. It was good, teasingly tender and Yuta wanted to cry. This soft side was too reminiscent of before. Mox’s head was practically resting on Yuta’s shoulder, so the younger man tipped his head in to nuzzle Mox. There was a soft hum of approval that made Yuta smirk as he bit down hard on whatever he could find.

Mox growled in pain as he stopped moving. One rough hand landed on Yuta’s neck while he latched onto the underside of Mox’s jaw. The hand started to squeeze. At first Yuta thought Mox was about to choke him, but that wasn’t it. There was pressure at the bottom of Yuta’s jaw making him slowly unclench his jaw. The way one would do to a dog.

“Disappointing.” Mox grunted as he set up but kept a hand on his captive’s neck. Checking his own neck he touched the bite mark only to find saliva. “No blood?”

“I--” Yuta tried to say something, what he wasn’t sure of, but thankfully Mox stopped him before he needed to think of more words. The hand on his neck moved to tightly hold his chin. “Huh?”

“If you’re gonna hurt me, Wheeler,” Mox grunted as he wiped the spit off his neck onto his hand, “At least make it worth it. Make me bleed. I know you’re better than this.” Mox wiped the bit of spit across Yuta’s face. “You’ve made me bleed plenty of times. C’mon.”

“Fuck…you.” Yuta growled, tugging again at the ropes. “If--If not-- I’m tied down!”

“And I gave you the perfect opportunity to rip my throat out. Take it.” Mox growled.

Something inside Yuta woke up, a fire rekindled. Mox was right. He was capable of hurting the man on top of him, even bound, there were plenty of times Yuta was able to inflict violence. The first thought was to headbutt but they were too far apart with too little slack. Instead Yuta worked up all the spit he could. The medium sized glob landed on Mox’s cheek, catching in the ginger beard hairs.

“Atta boy.” Mox grinned down at his captive. “That’s what we want outta you.”

“Little closer,” Yuta said as he bared his teeth. “I’ll show you more.”

“You better, kid.” Mox winked.

Their lips met suddenly, a hard crash of teeth that pushed Yuta’s head back. The wet spot on the other man’s cheek smeared across Yuta’s darker beard. Tension amped as Mox prepared himself for whatever the younger man was going to do, but Yuta just kissed back.

Slowly Mox untensed, his body going slack as he started to ride his young boy again. The hand on Yuta’s jaw went lax too. An opportunity happened the moment Mox gave up on there being some sort violence. Without hesitation Yuta bit hard into the other man’s lip.

The taste of rich copper was well known to the both of them. Mox gave an initial jerk but Yuta didn’t let go. Sharp teeth dug in deeper the louder the older man moaned. It was hard but Yuta tried his best to buck his hips too. The little bit of room was just enough to send his message.

Blood was in Yuta’s beard now. Instead of pulling away Mox tried to lean in, less tension but it just gave Yuta the opportunity to latch onto another part of the torn lip. For a brief moment Yuta wished he would be able to inflict enough damage to cause stitches, but he doubted he could do that in his current state. Still he tried. His cock throbbed each time he heard the pained whimper from Mox.

One of Mox’s hands was on his own dick, while the other was pushing on Yuta’s shoulder again. Trying to create space or end their bloody kiss all together. It wasn’t going to be on Mox’s terms though. The more the older man tried to get out of the kiss the more Yuta kept his hold firm.

The static electric pleasure was bouncing off the both of them, wiring them together. Against his stomach Yuta could feel how rough Mox was being with his own dick. Hips moving up and down in quick, little motions that were driving Yuta insane but probably did wonders for Mox. Finally Mox dragged his hand over to Yuta’s throat and started to squeeze. A warning to let go.

Yuta did not let go. There was no warning he was willing to heed at this point. He snarled as the hand gripped tighter. The throb of Yuta’s pulse rushed in his ears, keeping time with the ache in his cock. Buried deep inside the man choking him, that man’s blood between them. They fucked as they fought, struggling in a strange display of parallel dominance.

Stars started sparkling in Yuta's vision as darkness carved out the edges. Carefully breathing through the choking was ingrained in the young man, but it was eventually too much. Mox’s bloodied mouth was released, Yuta’s head falling back as he searched for air. Once released Mox let go of his young boy’s neck.

The entire time Mox had his hand on his dick. After a few seconds Yuta could barely open his eyes, looking up at the pseudo king. Red smeared, some even dripping. Mox looked so pleased, so turned on. Finally the hand on his dick stopped only to come up to collect some blood and reach back into his jock.

“Fuck,” Yuta muttered, opened-mouth breathing because of all the blood and spit.

“What’s wrong, kid?” Mox smirked like he had achieved something but the younger man just shook his head.

“It’s hot,” Yuta admitted, his eyes trying to catch sight of the inside of the jock. “Lemme see your hand.”

“Sick fuck.” Mox once more brought his hand out, presenting it to Yuta.

All of the mixed fluids gathered in Yuta’s mouth were spat into the awaiting hand. It wasn’t going to be good lube; there was something disgusting and hot about Mox smearing his spit and blood all over his dick. The look of pleasure that came over his face made Yuta moan too.

“S’hot. H-Hard--” Yuta tried to encourage. “Harder.”

“Hm. Demanding brat.” Mox’s tongue stuck out a little as he kept the pace and depth he was at.

“Fuck you,” Yuta grunted, trying to hold onto the anger in the sea of pleasure. “What’d’you wann’ from me?”

“Tell me you’re gonna win. Tell me you’re going to fuck Henry up.” Mox looked sternly down at the other, their eyes staying locked. “All I want is you to win and keep winning.”

“Weird…way’o showin’ it,” Yuta muttered, trying to shake off the hand.

Something dark took over Mox’s face. It wasn’t anger, but Yuta had a feeling he was in trouble. The hand returned to the younger man’s neck, holding him still as Mox leaned in. Slow tantalizing rock of their hips kept the pleasure heightened. Blood-wet lips pressed against Yuta’s ear.

“You have no idea.” Mox’s husky voice echoed through his young boy’s ear. “Think I haven’t been where you are right now? Where do you think we learned it all from, kid? You’ll understand, soon. Just enjoy it, like you have been.”

“Don’ wan’ this.” Yuta tried again but his dick was still rock hard inside the other.

“Neither did I,” Mox admitted, his teeth nibbling on his young boy’s ear. “It was still hot as fuck. It didn’t matter what I wanted, it was about giving me what I needed. I had no choice in the matter because Lordship knew best.”

“Jon, please.” Yuta tried to shake his head.

“It’s okay. You can imagine it,” Mox teased, deciding to pick up the pace now. Powerful thighs working to bring him further up and back down. They moaned together.

“Fuck.” Yuta’s broken sob came from his chest. Somehow Mox knew that he was getting off to this. His brain conjured up the exact images he needed to imagine the scene Mox was telling. It made an intense guilt pool with the horniness.

“The first time was in the locker rooms. It was fucking insane. We fought, but of course I couldn’t win.” Mox kissed down Yuta’s neck. “Not when my head felt like yours.” Teeth scratched at Yuta’s pulse. “We’re different, Wheeler.”

“Different.” Yuta had closed his eyes long ago, violent pornographic scenes playing for him. There was something that needed to be reconciled deep within, some sort of split that Yuta needed to stitch together.

“Fuck me. You remind me so much of Claudio.” Mox panted, really working himself up now. “You just think you have to be such a nice guy, baby, but you don’t. It took so much to break that nice guy act down, but once you get underneath? There’s so much more. He just never knew it either.”

“Mox?” Yuta grunted, pushing against the hand. “Mox?”

“Hey, relax.” Mox let go of his young boy’s face, and pulled away so he couldn’t be attacked. “What?”

“I’m gonna win. I’m gonna fuck Henry up. Doesn’t matter-- forgot my boots or not. Fuckin’ win.” Yuta forced the words out as he looked up into the king’s face.

“God damn right,” Mox growled. “You’re fuckin’ perfect, Wheeler.”

Their foreheads came together, nuzzling at each other as if this were the ring. They shared each other's air and space. Despite being joined they weren’t close enough. Mox scrambled, grabbing and pressing himself fully against his young boy, blood and sweat allowing their skin to slide together.

Tears caught in the corners of Yuta’s eyes. There wasn’t anything wrong, he wasn’t hurting or upset. Were they were happy tears? Yuta had to admit they were. The emotion welling up inside him at Mox calling him perfect stitched the broken parts of Yuta back together. He felt so raw and new, like a freshly healed wound.

The rough way their bodies were moving together was countered by the soft kisses Mox laid across his young boy’s cheek. Their lips ended up together again, rough but normal aside from the blood. A shaky half moan, half sob wormed its way out of Yuta’s chest.

“Let it out. No one else’ll know,” Mox spoke, still lip to lip, muttering in barely audible words. “Want us to come together, baby.”

“Please, Mox, please.” Yuta begged for release as the tears started to slide down his face.

“Fuck. Good boy. Look at you.” Mox watched the tears slipping down Yuta’s face, he hadn’t stopped really working his hips but he was finally starting to ride his young boy properly. “You’re so fuckin’ pretty, baby.”

The more Mox said the more of Yuta’s tears slipped out. More compliments, soft words following. The unshakable faith Mox had in his young boy, what he saw in his young boy, all the while riding Yuta to the breaking point.

“Ah, fuck. Come on. Be a good boy, and come with daddy, yeah?” Mox growled, his hand being shoved back into his jockstrap.

“Daddy,” Yuta hiccuped between his moans and crying.

“Yeah, baby, c’mon. You’re all pent up.” Mox was breathless as he sweet talked. “Ain’t no one been takin’ care of you, huh? And I’ve been playing with you far too long. Fill daddy up, Wheeler. Be a good boy.”

The words were going straight to Yuta’s cock. Sure there were plenty of times Mox begged to be bred, but this time he wasn’t begging. Practically ordering his young boy in the nicest way. Yuta felt his balls tighten as Mox purposely squeezed around him, making himself tight.

Yuta snapped at the tight feeling squeezing his cock, coming deep inside the tight passage. They shared more fluid as Yuta felt his seed flood Mox. Somehow Mox managed to shoot off at the same time causing senstational spasms through him to Yuta’s cock, massaging and milking him. They slumped together but Yuta could still feel his cock twitching and leaking.

Despite not wanting this Yuta was desperate for more, he even wished Claudio was there to take a turn. His cock was aching for more action. Mox was slowly rocking on his hips in Yuta’s lap.

“You’re a good boy, Wheeler,” Mox muttered. “But you’re only a good boy for us. Understand?”

“Yeah.” Yuta responded automatically as he floated through his post orgasm bliss. At this point he'd agree to practically anything.

“You belong with us.” Mox reiterated as he slowly kissed up Yuta's neck.

“You sure?” Yuta moaned softly at the teasing kissing.

“I'm sure.” Mox kissed the shell of his young boy's ear. “Been sure since those first forty seconds, baby.”

+++

Brrring. Brrrring.

A calamity of noise loudly rang out in the near empty hotel room. Cold food sat out since the morning, but the TV had turned itself off after a few hours. Everything was nearly pitch black.

Brrrrring. Briiiiing.

There was a heavy fog settled over Yuta’s mind, even trying to wake up in panic didn’t work. A clammy, cold sweat took over his entire body as he laid on the couch, slumped over from sitting up while he fell asleep. Everything moved like a washing machine so Yuta laid back down on the couch for a moment. The noise continued but Yuta was finding himself drifting back to sleep.

Brrriiing. Briiiiing. Briiiiing. Briiiing.

Finally it stopped so Yuta closed his eyes completely to let himself go back to sleep. There were thoughts swimming around that he couldn’t make heads or tails of at the moment. It was too much to try to decipher currently as words and images played out. And just as Yuta shoved those things out of his mind enough to sleep another noise started.

Knock. Knock.

That was at the door. It dawned on Yuta that the weird sound before had been the hotel phone and now there was knocking on his door. Slowly he started to get up, the rushing world around him blurred as he tried to get upright. A coffee cup was knocked over on the table but Yuta didn’t pay any mind to it.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Comin’.” Yuta finally found his raspy voice. It sounded like he’d slept with his mouth open, scratching his throat.

Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Coming!” Yuta stumbled step by step to the door, using the wall to help him. The door was finally opened. “Hi?”

“Mr. Yuta.” A woman about Yuta’s age stood on the other side with a concerned smile. “Our front desk attempted to call 3 times for your wake up call,” she informed him as she took a look at him. “So I came up to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh. Fuck.” Yuta rubbed a hand over his face. “Yeah. I’m okay. My sleeping has been messed up a lot from all the traveling. Thank you for coming up.”

“It’s no problem, sir. Can I get you anything?” she asked as he gave the young man another look over.

“Um.” Yuta froze for a few seconds but then nodded. “Coffee?”

“Sure. I’ll have it sent right up, sir.” She smiled, gave a little bow, and took off.

The door clicked shut, the auto lock turning with a whirl. Alone, Yuta stood there for a moment with his forehead pressed against the cold metal door. Flashes of what he could only assume was another stress nightmare plagued his eyes. Slowly he turned around to slump back against the door.

Resting against the door Yuta looked down at his hands. There were no marks from fighting back. No rope burn or bruising on his wrists like he expected from being tied to the couch. Nothing. Not even irritation or muscle strain. The young man forced himself off the door too quickly, everything swam around his vision as he stumbled back towards the cold food on the coffee table.

Frantically Yuta started stacking the plates to put the room service cart in the hall. Secretly he was searching for some hidden clue that the dreams he was having were real. Nothing. Again there wasn’t anything abnormal about the coffee table. Attentions were turned towards the couch, but there wasn’t any evidence there either.

Vaguely Yuta could remember blood and come during his dream. Blankets of craziness started to suffocate him as he rushed into the ensuite bath. The bright lights bounced off the shiny mirror while Yuta’s eyes took too long to adjust. Most of his weight bared on the sink counter as he stared the reflection down.

Other than the horrible bags under Yuta’s eyes there weren't any other signs of distress or activities. It was hard to fish for pieces but Yuta tried remembering. No bite marks or bruises. Hell, Yuta didn’t even feel like he had some freaky sex.

“It was just a nightmare,” Yuta muttered to his reflection.

All those movie scenes where a character punched their mirror all made sense in that one moment. Everything about the reflection was something Yuta hated. The exhaustion in his dark eyes, the palness, the waning muscles. It all made a rock of self hate settle in the young man’s stomach. The reflection wasn’t who he truly was, but every day he was feeling more and more like the ghost before him.

“Fuck you,” Yuta growled at the man in the mirror. “You’re weak. You wouldn’t be able to beat Henry.” He narrowed his eyes, anger and pain starting a fire. “But I can.”

The lights were cut off sharply as Yuta left the room. Whatever fog was lifting as he came out of the bathroom to get dressed. Everything was coming into sharp focus, something inside him shifted into the right place. There was a sense of confidence that was back.

All Yuta needed was his bags and he went to leave. Along the way he passed the hotel employee bringing up the pot of coffee, but Yuta didn’t have time to lament the lost coffee. He pulled the hood over his head as he got out to his car to leave for the arena.

+++

Once at the arena Yuta was hit by a wave of longing for his team. Hesitantly he pulled his phone out to check the messages he knew Bryan hadn’t sent. There was nothing new. As he opened up the message field to type something out a text came in at the top. Yuta blinked a few times as his blood ran cold.

It took a moment to build up the courage. As the screen with Bryan remained unchanged, a text from Claudio awaited. Closing his eyes Yuta took a deep breath before pulling up the new message.

“You’re going to win tonight. Remember Anthony Henry isn’t someone to be taken lightly, but you are the better competitor. You are stronger, more violent, and technically sound. Remember your training. Good luck, Wheeler. Not that you need it.”

This was the message that Yuta carved from Bryan. The advice and support that could be easily given. All of the earlier clarity was receding, leaving a void of emotion as everything settled in. There was no reason for Yuta to be getting supportive texts from Claudio but not Bryan. This couldn't just be about Bryan being hurt right now, even though he’d gone running and to doctor’s appointments.

With a scowl Yuta returned to his message with his mentor. The letters appeared under his thumbs as he let his emotions drive his actions. Hitting send without even considering otherwise. There was something deeply wrong and it was breaking inside Yuta.

“I’m going to fucking win tonight.”

The car door slammed. Anger and confusion swirling around in Yuta’s head as he made his way inside. Everything was feeling numb and far away. Just before the corner that led to the locker rooms Yuta felt his phone go off, he stopped to open the message. A small smile spread when he saw it was from Bryan.

“I’d hope so, Wheeler. It’s Anthony Henry.”

That was all. Yuta closed his eyes, counted to ten and put his phone away. Being immediately accosted by the media team made Yuta shut down. He could hear words but they didn’t make much sense. Expect the word Bryan. Somehow he found himself talking, but he wasn’t exactly sure what he was saying either. The words weren’t anything.

The jab Bryan made about forgetting his boots played over and over in his head for some reason. Even as he spoke quietly about Bryan’s condition. As the zipper came apart Yuta instantly realized he somehow did forget his boots. They weren’t tucked away in the under pocket of the gear bag meant for them.

Panic set in as Yuta walked away from the conversation. The one thing. The stupid one thing that he just couldn’t forget. Once in the empty locker room still labeled BCC Yuta paced around as he tried to remember if he just left them in the hotel or all the way at Bryan’s place. There was a memory Yuta had of packing the boots but not taking anything out at the hotel so nothing was forgotten. It wasn’t like Yuta’s memory was super reliable.

“Fuck, fuck.” Yuta shook his head. Anything else could have been forgotten but not this. “Maybe uh…the tailors?”

Without much thought Yuta went along to find the costume, wardrobe, and tailor people. It wasn’t a fruitful journey. Wrestlers were too particular so they didn’t keep any kind of boots on hand or shoes for wrestling in general. Too many varieties, they said as Yuta walked off in a semiconscious state.

The lonely, cold locker room was depressing. A lot of ideas were running through the young boy’s head, like did he have to wrestle shoeless? Rage was washing up on the shores of Yuta’s emotions until he noticed something sitting by his gear,

“What the actual fuck?!” Yuta screamed as he saw a pair of his boots tossed near his bag. “I don’t fucking--”

Deep heavy breaths started to help there be some level of calm. Enough to go look at the pair. They were just some random pair of his boots, but not the ones he thought he packed. Leaning down Yuta realized there was a piece of paper tucked inside the right boot.

Heard you were missing boots. You left these in my truck last time we were in Ohio together. You’re gonna fucking kill Henry tonight. --MOX

Upon closer inspection Yuta could remember leaving these. They weren’t his favorite, for some reason the instep was too narrow on the right foot. Last time these boots were on his feet was in Ohio, he remembered tossing them in annoyance in the back and refusing to get them as a joke. If Mox was in the building, he would have driven here in that truck and saw Yuta’s interview moment. It made sense, it made perfect senses.

But Yuta was pretty sure he packed his fucking boots.

19 notes · View notes

queen--kenobi · 4 months ago

Text

What Happened in Paris

Elayna Reyne wants nothing but the best for her life. That's why she applies to an internship at Casterly Rock Financial during her sophomore summer. Elayna expects to get excellent opportunities and a leg up in life from this internship; however, she gets more than that when she meets her new boss and old family friend, Tyland Lannister. Caught between a need for professionalism and a need more primal, Elayna and Tyland have to balance what they should do and what they want to do.

Pairing: Tyland Lannister x OFC, past Aemond Targaryen x OFC

Masterlist

Chapter One

Elayna applies for her internship. Sparks fly when she meets Tyland. Can this fire stay contained?

WC: Just under 7k

A/N: It's finally here! I'm so excited to share it with y'all. Thank you @writingbylee for letting me borrow Lyanna and @book-of-baba-fett for reading this over

Elayna stares out over the expanse of Blackwater Bay. The first few rays of sunlight begin making their way into the sky. Despite the sun only just starting to rise, seagulls squawk as they circle around the bay. At the edges of the horizon, Elayna can see the slight shimmer of waves as what little light there is catches the tops of them. She hears the waves as they wash up onto the shore. They don't crash loudly like they do at Casterly Rock; they lap at the sand in a soothing rhythm.

Elayna sighs. When she inhales, the taste of ocean salt settles on her tongue. She brings the ceramic mug in her hands up. Before she can take a drink, movement about a fourth of the way between the shore and the horizon catches her attention. It's a pod of dolphins. Elayna watches them in silent awe for a minute. With the sky turning a beautiful mixture of yellows, oranges, and purples, she feels as if she's part of a painting.

She wonders if this is a good omen. Elayna brings the mug to her lips. She feels greedy, almost. She wants more good luck when she knows she has plenty. People would kill for what she has and yet she wants, no, needs more.

She sips her coffee slowly and then promptly pulls a face. Her nose wrinkles, and her upper lips twitches.

“Think they could afford better coffee.”

Her dad took care of all her travel arrangements for this trip, so Elayna has no idea how much exactly she's paying per night. She knows it must be expensive. The hotel lobby alone suggests that with its white polished limestone floors and gold accents on everything. Not that the cost particularly matters one way or the other; Elayna being in the Presidential suite won't make a dent in their pockets. The perks of multi-generational wealth, she supposes.

It does, however, matter that the coffee is ass.

Elayna sighs and sets her cup down on the wicker table beside her. The porcelain clinks. No amount of cream or sugar can save it. She doesn't need all organic, pesticide free, non-GMO coffee, but she at least needs something better than prepackaged Starbucks grounds. They might as well have given her K-cups and an outdated Keurig. She huffs and picks up her phone. King's Landing is huge. Surely a good coffee place exists here.

When Elayna unlocks her phone, she sees two text notifications. She double checks the time. It's 6:35 am. Elayna leans back in her chair, a fond smile making its way onto her face. When she went to bed last night, she had no text notifications. The idea people care enough to text her this early in the morning makes her heart glow.

She swipes open her phone and makes her way over to her texts. The first one is from her dad.

Mufasa himself (Dad, ICE): Good luck with your interview. Kick ass, little lion

Elayna closes her eyes. Even now she's gone to college, Alon still encourages her as he did when she was little. She can't remember what started it; she just knows it doesn't feel right when he doesn't wish her luck like this. She chose the phrase to be her first tattoo for a reason. She glances at her left hand. On top of her arm, right where a watch would sit, stands a rampant lion. The words kick ass, little lion in Alon's handwriting curl all the way around her wrist.

Thank you ♥️ I love you

Elayna taps on her screen to back out and go to the other message. She snorts when she sees who texted her, although she still smiles.

🐺 She don't bite 🐺: Good luck with your interview!

🐺 She don't bite 🐺: Don't do anything stupid. I will find out

Elayna's fingers fly across the keyboard.

And what r u gonna do about it, huh?

You ain't gonna do shiiiiit

Also. Why were u awake at 5:30. Go back to bed

Elayna giggles to herself. She drums her feet on the balcony floor with delight. Lyanna won't take her seriously. The pair of them have been friends long enough she'll know Elayna doesn't mean any of it. Besides, their bond is inseparable. They quite literally saved each other's lives. Elayna being a little shit won't do anything other than lightly annoy Lyanna at most.

She closes out of her texts and navigates over to DoorDash. Idly, she begins combing through her options. Elayna doubts she'll find anything if her hotel coffee is anything to go off of.

“No. No. Nope. Oh, that looks interesting. Nevermind, I don't want that.”

She bounces her right leg. Her free hand flexes, fingers cracking as she does so. The restless energy within her builds. She sighs. Elayna looks at the top of her screen. Surely it's close to 7:15.

6:39 am

Elayna groans. She lets her head fall forward onto the table in front of her, a mock sob escaping her. Her shoulders sag. She stays like that for a long minute. Even though it's still early in the morning, the heat slowly builds. Elayna rotates her head to look at the horizon. She can't see much from this angle, but the sky is significantly lighter now.

Her phone buzzes.

Mufasa himself (Dad, ICE): What time is your interview?

Her fingers fly across the keyboard.

Okay. Elayna closes her eyes and breathes. If she gets dressed now and finds a coffee place within walking distance, she should be okay. If she needs to be there at 11, she should really be there about 10:30?

She shakes her head. No. No no no. 10:30 is too early. She'll seem like an overeager puppy begging for the job. Elayna refuses to look desperate.

10:45?

Yeah. 10:45 would be good.

“Okay. 10:45...”

She opens her phone again. Apple maps tells her it's a 15 minute drive from the hotel to the offices. Google, on the other hand, says 12 minutes. So. She'll leave at 10:15? Yeah, 10:15.

Elayna runs her hand over her face.

“Okay. 10:45. 10:15 to 10:45. An hour. No. A little over an hour to get ready. So. 9:00. Which gives me... 2 and a half hours to wait.”

Well. Elayna slides down in the wicker chair until her arms hang over the side uselessly and her chin rests on her chest. She can already feel the wait stretch out for eternity in front of her. She looks at her phone and then closes it. DoorDash might not be a good idea. Sitting around and waiting would only drive her crazy.

The balcony connects directly to the bedroom of her suite. Carefully, she closes the sliding glass door behind her. She smells the faint aroma of coffee lingering. The rising sun bathes the room in a soft glow. The room is spacious, sunlight not quite reach everywhere within the room. It feels almost too big for one person. The bed itself seems so huge in the space. In the middle of the night, one could get lost in it, never able to find their partner.

An empty sort of loneliness creeps along her spine and the edges of her brain. She wasn't supposed to be alone on this trip; the plan had been for her to come for her interview and then her... her ex boyfriend, Aemond, was supposed to come down the same day. The two of them would then spend a relaxing weekend together exploring the city. Who knows. He might have even taken her to his family home so she could finally meet his parents.

So much for that.

Elayna flicks on one of the bedside lamps. Soft incandescent light illuminates the rest of the space, chasing the forlorn and sour mood away. Her loneliness still sits underneath her rib cage and in her stomach; the light just makes the feelings manageable. Underneath the cover of darkness, Elayna never gets control of her emotions. At least during the day, she can pretend to be alright and in complete mastery of herself.

She makes her way over to the closet, footsteps muffled by the plush carpet. Elayna always hangs up her clothes now, a habit she picked up from her ex. He always insisted on it, even arguing just folding clothes to put in a suitcase wrinkled them. She sighs and scrunches her face. The fact he still influences her in little ways bothers her. She never did that before him. Then again, this might be the only area he was actually right.

The closet door barely whispers when she opens it. She stares at the collection of clothes she brought with her. Everyone always teases her about being a fashionista; looking at the sheer volume of clothes she packed, she finds herself inclined to agree. The trip goes from last night to Sunday yet her luggage nearly qualified as overweight.

After a moment of thought and perusal, she plucks a pair of denim Guess shorts, not the cut-offs but shorts with a hem, from one of the hangers. The next pick takes longer, a tie between a white Baby Phat baby tee or the Guess corset tank. She grabs the tank and then her Guess zip up sweatshirt.

Elayna pads into the bathroom. The polished travertine countertop, white marble floors, and gold sink gleam under the bright fluorescent lights. The bathroom is just as large as a massive suite would demand. A large bathtub with a built-in jacuzzi takes up the space across from the sink. The toilet and a seperate shower were behind another door.

Elayna makes quick work of changing from her silk pajamas into her casual clothes. As she brushes her teeth, she makes her way back out into the bedroom to grab her outfit for her interview, a pencil skirt with a matching blazer and a red silk blouse. Her Louboutin's are professional, thankfully, so she can wear those as well. She grabs the outfit and places it on the back of the bathroom door. Once she spits her toothpaste into the sink, she deals with her hair, pulling her long, dark curly hair into a high ponytail.

Elayna takes a moment to admire herself in the mirror.

“Can't believe I believed him when he said I wasn't hot.” Elayna murmurs, taking a moment to check out her ass. She places one hand on her hip, stretching her fingertips and pointing them down. Her off white acrylics stand out against the denim of her shorts. Aemond did a number on her self-confidence, nearly breaking her entirely. It took several months for her to even begin putting work into her appearance once more. She'll be damned if she lets him take more from her.

On her way into her hotel last night, she had seen a small boutique, a fancy place she suspects sells soaps and lotions. Having coffee while sitting in the bathtub jacuzzi with rainbow or sparkly water sounds appealing. Maybe she'll add a chocolate croissant too.

The thought makes Elayna smile. Yes. She thinks that's what she'll do.

The streets of King's Landing are already buzzing at 7:30 am. People begin to swarm the sidewalk, and roads clog with cars. Elayna makes sure to check which way she's going on Google before stepping out into the throng of people. She follows the directions, keeping an AirPod in her left ear so she can hear clearly without bothering the people around her.

Her first stop is coffee. Thankfully, she was able to find a small place on DoorDash that wasn't too far away from her hotel. The walk only takes her 7 minutes. She admires her surroundings as she goes. She's staying in the Red Keep district, so everything around her looks clean and neat. The buildings themselves gleam in the sunlight, glass reflecting the beautiful sky with scattered fluffy clouds. She still smells the ocean, surprisingly, although it isn't as strong; the stench of gasoline and smog covers up the brackish scent of the air. Down here on the street, Elayna can't hear the seagulls or the waves. The cacophony of the city drowns out anything else.

The doorbell to the coffee shop chimes pleasantly when she opens it. No one inside bats an eye. A line stretches from the counter to about halfway to the door. Elayna dutifully files into line. She looks at the menu while she waits; one of her pet peeves is people not knowing what they want, so she needs to ensure she has her order ready. She orders an iced version of one of their speciality drinks with oatmilk and a chocolate croissant. As she waits, Elayna double checks where exactly the shop she saw last night is.

Her order is ready fairly quickly, and Elayna ducks back out onto the street and towards her next destination.

As she walks, Elayna takes in more of her surroundings. She knows some of the history of King's Landing. The Red Keep is city center, and it's the pride and joy of the city. Each one of the major states has a part of the Red Keep they claim as their district. Alon likes to help those close to him, so Elayna’s hotel is in her state's district. It's absolutely one of the nicer parts of the city; the Westerlands has money and a reputation, not to mention the financial district is only a few blocks over.

The shop has exactly what Elayna wants. Well, what she wants and more. As she looks through the soaps, perfumes, and lotions, she finds several scented items she doesn't need but buys anyways. Her nerves try to creep back in as she wanders through the storefront. The enticement of new beauty supplies drives the thoughts away, the promise of glitz and glitter filling her with temporary joy.

By the time she gets back to her hotel room, it's 8:52. Elayna starts the bath. As she waits for the tub to fill, she picks out her make-up. She opts for a soft, shimmery gold. She lays the palette and the rest of her make-up on the counter. Steam begins to fog up the mirror. Elayna turns back to the bathtub. It's almost filled to the brim.

The handles move smoothly and don't squeak as she turns off the tap. She drops the bath bomb in with a soft splash. Pink and gold swirl out from the bath bomb, creating a shimmering vortex within the warm water. Rose and gardenia rises with the steam from the bath, filling her nose with a pleasant floral yet musky scent. She hums. Elayna pads back into the main room to grab her coffee and pastry before stripping and sinking into the warm water.

Elayna takes her time to get ready. Her nerves scream at her to go faster and move, but she forces herself to ignore them. She has time. Besides, the more confident she feels, the better she'll do. If she luxuriates in every part of the process, from putting on lotion to applying her eyeshadow and blush, she knows she'll feel beyond prepared.

She still orders her Uber ahead of time. Just to be safe.

Casterly Rock Financial looms over this part of the city. The skyscraper oozes wealth. If she were one of the people from Flea Bottom, the building might come off as tacky, but Elayna thinks it rides the line between class and campy well. The normal steel beams are gold. A gold lion hangs over the main entrance. Supposedly, the insignia comes from a family crest.

Her heels click nicely on the black reflective tile, marble she thinks. The lobby smells clean, almost to the point of being sterile and lifeless. Elayna heads straight to the reception counter. It matches the black of the floor, although the counter has more veins of white. Gold accentuates the edges and separates the body of the counter from the rest of it.

The receptionist doesn't look up at her. She stares at her laptop before grabbing a pencil and a sticky note. A gold claw clip with red roses holds a mass of curly blonde hair up. Elayna notes her roots are showing the tiniest bit, a hint of dark amongst the blonde.

“I'll be with you in just a second.”

“Okay.” Elayna smiles. A quiet, nagging voice in the back of her mind wonders; the receptionist's voice sounds so familiar. Where does she know her from? The slight accent suggests either Lannisport or Casterly Rock.

The scribbling of pencil on paper fills the silence for a moment. Eventually, it stops. The receptionist lifts her head.

“Hi. Can I he-”

The woman falters. Her blue eyes widen with surprise and brief shock.

“Elayna?”

“Tyshara?” Elayna blinks. A massive grin makes its way onto her face. Tyshara echoes the grin. “I knew I recognized your voice!”

“Oh my God, Elayna! It's been forever!” She squeals. Her voice echoes for a moment, bouncing off the glass panels. Tyshara gestures to her desk. “I'd come around and hug you, but they get weird about me doing that. It's unprofessional or whatever.”

“That's fine! It's okay. I absolutely get it.” Elayna leans on the edge of the reception counter. “How have you been? I didn't realize you got a job here. I thought you'd be in college.”

“Yeah. I'm taking a couple years off right now. Strengthening my resume.” Tyshara looks if she wants to pull a face but thinks better of it last minute. She still scrunches her nose. “Mom and Dad have been super weird about making sure I get into Harvard to continue the family legacy. Which is dumb because, like, Cerelle and Tymon have it in the bag. Why do I need to go too?”

Elayna laughs, a soft laugh almost akin to an amused snort. “I bet that's more your mom than your dad.”

“You have no idea.” Tyshara huffs. She rests her forearms on the desk and leans in towards Elayna. “So... what are you doing here? I thought you were gone for good.”

Elayna pauses. She clears her throat before offering Tyshara an apologetic smile. Two years ago seems like such a lifetime away now. She looks down at the floor for a second.

“I'm actually here for an interview.” Elayna adjusts her purse. Hesitantly, she looks back up at Tyshara. “I... I'm sorry, Tyshara. I didn't mean to be, well-”

“An asshole when you left?”

Tyshara clearly tries to go for teasing, but a slight edge of bitterness creeps into her tone. Elayna nods once.

“Yeah.”

Tyshara examines her. Elayna swallows. She braces herself for a scathing remark. None comes. Instead, Tyshara lets out an inelegant snort and leans back some in her chair.

“Look. You were, but like. If my best guy friend used me, I'd be upset too. Also, him outing you was not cool.” She pauses. She runs her tongue along the back of her teeth in thought. “Don't. Don't tell Tymon I said this, but he was a total dillweed to you. Mom still is mad at him.”

“Really? I thought she would have taken his side.”

Tyshara shakes her head.

“Mom actually likes you. She's just...” Tyshara gestures vaguely. Elayna nods. She respects Johanna a lot, especially since Johanna may as well be a single mother of 5 with how little Jason is around; however, Elayna isn't ignorant to how Johanna can get. Being Cerelle's best friend growing up meant she saw both sides of Johanna, and occasionally, Elayna was on the receiving edge of Johanna’s judgement.

“I know. Trust me, I know.”

Tyshara smiles. She bites down on the inside of her lip as if trying to keep in a giggle. Elayna gives her a conspiratorial wink. The gesture cracks Tyshara; she lets out a small snort of laughter. Elayna grins. After a moment, Tyshara clears her throat. She clasps her hands together and places them on the desk in an attempt to look professional.

“You said you were here for the internship, right?”

Elayna nods. She adjusts her stance, moving her weight more onto her other side.

“I am.”

“Okay. I'm gonna call up and let him know you're on the way. Tyland is on the 12th floor.”

Elayna raises an eyebrow. “I thought he'd be on the top floor.”

“No. It's his weird superstition thing. 12 is supposedly a magic money number.” She rolls her eyes. She reaches for the phone. “Go ahead and go on up. He's probably been ready for the past hour.”

“Thank you, ‘Shara.” The pet name slips out. For a moment, it looks as if Tyshara blushes. “Hopefully I'll be seeing more of you this summer?”

“You better. I need people to talk to. Everyone here is so boring.”

Elayna makes her way to the elevator. Despite the 12th floor not being the top floor, the ride feels as if it takes forever. Elayna shifts from one foot to the other uncomfortably. When the elevator dings, she almost jumps out of her skin.

She steps out of the elevator. To her right, at the end of the bank of shiny chrome elevators, Elayna sees the main part of the office. Her heels click satisfyingly on the ground until she reaches the actual office floor. Padded carpet muffles her steps. This floor smells clean but not necessarily in a sterile and lifeless way like downstairs. The scent of papers and coffee mix underneath the fresh smell.

Elayna follows the lobby into the hall. It, surprisingly, opens up; she doesn’t see a wall right in front of her but what looks to be the main work space. She hears typing and soft murmuring. Sunlight comes through the large windows, but it doesn't pour. It's bright enough that the fluorescent lights are low.

A few people look up from their identical cubicles with identical computers. Elayna smiles awkwardly. She leans back and then steps back. Surely, a sign hangs up somewhere telling her where to go. She turns and sees a black marble directory on the wall.

Tyland is in suite E. She assumes he's got the largest corner office.

It takes Elayna a minute to orient herself. Despite not being far into the building, she feels lost already. As she walks the halls, Elayna uses the wall and infrequent markers to tell her where she is. Eventually, she finds where she needs to be. Suite E sits at the end of a hall and towards the back of the building. Elayna's lips twitch.

Seems she was right about the largest corner office.

Elayna carefully enters the waiting room. A secretary sits at a desk, a placard identifying her as Olivia Redwyne on her desk. She looks up when Elayna enters.

“Hi.” Elayna smiles. “I'm Elayna Reyne. I'm here to see Mr. Lannister?”

“Okay, if you'll wait here.” Mrs. Redwyne picks up the phone. She gestures to a seat with her free hand. Elayna takes it.

“Elayna Reyne is here to see you.”

Elayna looks around as she waits. She hears chatter but barely registers it. A couple tasteful office-friendly photos, mostly landscapes, sit on the taupe walls. Thankfully, they don't have the tag lines. Elayna would have no choice but to walk out if she sees that. After a moment, the receiver clicks into place.

“He’ll be ready in a minute. Can I get you anything, dear?”

Elayna shakes her head. “No, but thank you for the offer.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything.”

She tries to keep herself calm. Elayna wants to look at her phone; it would be a welcome distraction. She doesn't. It might make her look bad, playing on her phone as if she was bored. She settles for scanning the walls again. One of the pictures looks to be from the Vale, a beautiful shot of the mountain range behind a lake. Another is an aerial view of the God's Eye. The third shows the cliffs of Casterly Rock from the shoreline.

The phone rings. Mrs. Redwyne picks it up.

“He's ready for you.”

Elayna stands. She smoothes her skirt in a last minute prep.

“You'll do fine.”

“Thank you.”

Elayna steps into the office. She looks to Tyland sitting behind the desk. He seems familiar, blonde hair and blue eyes with a slightly crooked nose. His hair is slicked back. Elayna sees the hint of a 5 o'clock shadow. He's absolutely older than her, maybe twice her age. No, not quite twice her age but close.

She feels a flame stir within her when she looks at him. Blondes have always been a weakness of hers. She never thought older men to be particularly attractive, but he strikes her fancy. Maybe it's all the plaques and awards on his office walls. Maybe it's the fact that for having a more senior position, he still seems relatively young. Maybe it's the fact she can feel how ambitious and driven he is, a little cockiness mixed in for good measure.

It could all very well be because she hasn't gotten laid in several months. Elayna grabs onto the thought and clasps it tightly in her hands.

“Elayna?” He stands and comes over with his hand outstretched. His handshake is firm. He doesn't hold for too long, but Elayna swears his fingertips delicately brush against the inside of her wrist. He keeps his eyes on her face, but she swears he's not looking at her eyes. “It's good to meet you. Tyland Lannister.”

“Hi, Tyland.” She smiles. “I don't know if you remember me, it's been a while.”

Tyland looks her in the eye. His gaze didn't travel too far upward. Had he been looking at her lips? Recognition lights up his face. He smiles.

“Oh, yes. I knew your name was familiar. You’re Cerelle's friend, right? How is she?”

“I... I actually haven't spoken to Cerelle in a bit.” Elayna clears her throat. “We sorta grew apart when we went to college, you know?”

A lot of the blame sits with Elayna. The two did text frequently during their first semester of freshmen year. Aemond put a stop to that. He took up so much of her time and energy she never thought to even reach out to Cerelle last summer. It took a “break-up” and going on a back packing trip for Elayna to find herself again. By that point, it was too late.

“Oh. A shame. She seemed to like you a lot.”

Much to Elayna’s surprise, Tyland sounds as if he genuinely means it as opposed to just giving trite platitudes. Elayna can't help her soft smile. She never talked with Tyland much, but she did remember he seemed normal, if nerdy. Tymon holds open contempt for the man, although Elayna was never to figure out why. Cerelle seems more ambivalent about her uncle.

“Yeah. She was- is a good friend.”

Tyland clears his throat. He gestures for her to sit. She does. The chair across from his is straight back and nice but not necessarily comfortable. Tyland sits in his chair. Sunlight coming in from the right side window and from behind him catches his blond hair. Elayna shifts in her chair.

She never understood protagonists in cheesy romance novels telling their bodies “down, girl” until now. Elayna barely knows him yet based on the little she gleans from his office, her body reacts instinctively. Elayna crosses her legs.

Tyland leans back in his chair. He places his fingertips on a manilla folder on his desk. His gold Rolex shines. Elayna wonders if this is intentional. The positioning of his fingers show how large his hands are.

“I want to go ahead and say this is just a formality.” Tyland begins. He flattens out his palm. Elayna's heart sinks for the briefest of seconds. Tyland must see the look on her face because he quickly reassures her. “Oh, I've already chosen you! I just have to do this so it looks...”

“Fair?” Elayna supplies. Her heart instantly climbs back up. Tyland nods. He takes a moment to think. His tongue wets his lips before he presses them together.

“I don't want to be accused of favoritism.”

Elayna nods. She tries to keep a sly smile off her face. A wave of relief washes over her. She eases back into her chair, shoulders dropping neatly down her back. Her ribs open up, chest untightening.

“Thank you.” She murmurs. Elayna meets his eyes and smiles in gratitude. His eyes are blue, she notes. Tyland looks away first and clears his throat.

“Think nothing of it. You actually came highly recommended. Cerelle practically sung your praises.” Tyland hums. “I will say. I did take a look at your resume and everything. You stated you were one of the Event Coordinators for your sorority this academic year, and you were just voted to be the Treasurer for your junior year?”

“Yeah! I wanted to do events my sophomore year because I felt that was really critical for freshmen. You have to give a sense of community and presence. I actually really loved it! I ran for Treasurer this year on a whim, and I’m super excited about it.”

Elayna resists the urge to run a hand through her hair. She smiles softly, almost shyly. Tyland rests his forearms on his desk, careful to keep his elbows back and away from the edge.

“It seems like you might want to try for President of your sorority.”

Elayna blinks with a surprise before her eyes dart to his face. How did he...? She tries to keep it fairly quiet that she plans on running for President for her sorority. Not just because talking about plans often curses them but also because she feels cheap and cheesy. Everyone wants to follow the path she is and do what she's doing. She ducks her head in a shy manner.

“Maybe? I want to see where this year takes me before I make any decisions.” Elayna shrugs and smiles softly, if a bit lopsided. She keeps her gaze away from him as she does this. After a moment, she turns back to him.

Tyland eyes her. His expression seems friendly and open enough, but Elayna can't shake the sense he knows her, knows her little games. Her gut tells her he knows because he's played them before. Elayna tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The light reappears in his eyes.

“What made you apply to this internship?”

Tyland leans back again and clasps his hands in his lap. His ergonomic office chair creaks as he does so. This time, when he leans back, he leans at a slight angle. He crosses one leg over the other. Elayna notices his navy pants cling to his broad thighs. When she meets his gaze, she knows the positioning is intentional.

A quiet hunger replaces the light. He examines her not in an impassive, critical way, but as if he's mapping the shape of her. He's not eye fucking her; this strikes her as more the precursor, an interest beyond the professional but not entirely sexual.

He raises an eyebrow. It almost feels a challenge, to see if she'll back down or display a reciprocated interest.

Elayna gives him her coyest smile. She ducks her head once more so she's looking at him from her eyelashes. She reaches up and plays with a stray strand of her hair. It curls almost perfectly around her finger.

“I mean. You know my family so you know my background. I grew up in this environment. It'll take less time to train me, plus it's something I'm personally invested in.”

Tyland nods.

“Does your dad want you to take over your family's business?”

The question sobers her up for a moment. Elayna purses her lips for a second. Slowly, she sighs.

“Maybe? I'm not going to put words in my dad's mouth. He'll make the decision best for our family, but I do hope he picks me.”

She doesn't want to voice she would be the best choice. She loves her brothers, loves them dearly, but she knows they haven't put in the work needed. With Seb going on benders every other weekend and Ryman being too young to take anything but girls seriously, she holds no doubt in her heart. She is the best choice.

Elayna wonders if the only reason she hasn't been named yet is because her dad doesn't want her to live this life. Alon loves her, deeply and dearly. Elayna used to get comments about being a daddy's girl all the time. Unless they came from her siblings, she paid it no attention. This life nearly destroyed Alon. She wonders if he might be trying to save her.

Tyland studies her for a long minute. He drums his fingers on his desk, clearly lost in thought for a second. Elayna patiently waits. Tyland tilts his head. His eyes narrow, the studious look becoming slightly scrutinizing. His gaze flicks to her eyes. Elayna looks back at him. She can see him running a quiet calculation, but she doesn't feel threatened by it.

Maybe it's because for the briefest of moments, when they lock eyes, his expression softens.

“It's a lot of work.”

“I know. I'm prepared for it.”

“You won't be in the front office, so you don't have to come in at 6:30. That doesn’t mean you won't have long hours.”

“I didn't apply because I wanted easy. I applied because I want the best.” Elayna stares evenly at him. “I'm not scared of work.”

“I figured as much, but I still have to say it.” Tyland purses his lips in thought. He looks away first, although he doesn't turn away entirely. He places his right elbow on the right armrest of his chair and then his chin by his lifted hand, pressing his knuckles just below the curve of his mouth. For a moment, he stares at the space just to Elayna’s left. Eventually, his eyes flick back to Elayna. She sees the moment he makes up his mind about whatever internal conflict is going on within his head. Tyland straightens up and interlaces his hands together, placing them on the desk.

“Cerelle specifically described you as ambitious.”

“I'd like to think I know what I want. But, yes, I am ambitious.” She tries not to preen. “Like I said, I want the best. That applies to everything.”

“I like ambition.”

Fuck. Was it just her or did his voice lower slightly when he said that? Elayna tries to keep her breathing even. Tyland clears his throat.

“I respect that. Not many people are willing to put in the work these days. Especially your generation. No offense.” Tyland hums. “I think... Elayna. You have a lot of potential.”

Her heart begins to sink. Those words were never good. Had she begun to be too casual with him? Did she say something to make herself come off as bitchy?

“Which is why I'm going to give you an entirely different position.”

Elayna swears her heart stops in the moment. She stares at him.

“I'm not sure I'm following?” Despite her best efforts, her voice raises in pitch at the end. It almost sounds like a squeak.

“You'd be working directly with me. I need someone organized and on top of things. Jason has left everything a mess. I need help managing it all.”

“Are you sure?”

Tyland tilts his head. He raises a single eyebrow.

“I wouldn't offer if I wasn't sure.”

“Thank you. Thank you so much!” Elayna bites down on her tongue to keep herself from becoming too effusive. A squeal of delight builds in her chest. Glee fills every one of Elayna’s cells and lights her whole being aflame. Tyland smiles.

“Is that a yes? I need to hear it in words.”

“Yes. God, yes.”

A brief look flashes on Tyland’s face. He looks at her almost hungrily for a second. Elayna misses it; she focuses on trying not to grin with delight.

“I'll have to write up a new contract. It might take a couple days to get to you.”

“That's fine. I... thank you.”

“You don't need to thank me.” He smooths his hands on his slacks. “Thank Cerelle.”

“Oh, I will.” Elayna stands. Tyland follows suit.

“Let me walk you to the elevator. I could use the exercise.”

Tyland opens the door. Elayna scurries through and out into the waiting area. She notices he opens the door just enough she can get by but not enough she isn't forced to brush by him. Elayna relishes how close he is.

They find a good rhythm as he walks her to the elevator. Her heart beats rapidly. Giddiness washes over her. Elayna matches Tyland’s steps. She keeps a professional distance between them, wanting to go ahead and set a precedence.

Tyland is her boss now.

The thought almost makes her pause. Her earlier joy halts. Tyland isn't just her boss but her direct superior. A line sits in the sand; they are off-limits to each other. Normally, she wouldn't ever think about such a thing yet it occurs to her. Elayna can't have him. He can't have her.

The space between them crackles, an unsung electricity between them.

Elayna wants to narrow the space between them. She actively fights the urge but feels inexorably drawn to him. Tyland clearly feels it too. He steps closer to her but then steps away after several paces.

His hand brushes against hers. Elayna nearly sighs. Yet they both pull away from each other.

The line is drawn. It sits perfectly between them.

They make small talk on their way to the elevator. What classes is she currently taking? Oh, yes, he remembers that course. How is she liking college? It's not forced but still comes off as slightly unnatural and awkward.

The pair reach the elevator.

“Thank you again.”

Elayna shakes his hand. Tyland this time clearly means to linger, carefully running his fingers over her pulse point when he lets go.

“No need to thank me. I'll have the paperwork sent over as soon as I can.” He smiles. “I look forward to working with you.”

The elevator dings. Elayna steps inside. Once the doors close behind her, she nearly slumps against the back wall.

Oh. She's so fucked.

She tries to ignore her heartbeat on the way down. It thrums through her entire body. Elayna sighs. This... this was different. She knows attraction. Hell, she's intimately familiar with lust. That was the draw between her and her ex, lust at first sight. Whatever is going on between her and Tyland is an entirely different beast.

It's not love. It's not just lust either. Elayna wants to put a name to the face but her tongue and mind come up blank. She thinks it's potential. On paper, Tyland is her type. It could mean nothing. It could mean anything. They may never fuck or may end up married. She doesn't know.

Elayna runs her hand down her face.

The elevator dings. Elayna straightens up. She exits the elevator. Tyshara looks up at the sound of heels clacking on the black marble.

“How'd it go?” Tyshara calls loudly from across the lobby.

Elayna stops. She... she got the job. She got the internship. The realization slams into her. She's got to call her dad. Elayna can hear him already, the way he’ll say “alright!” in such a proud voice. He's going to be so happy.

Elayna lifts her chin and looks at Tyshara.

“I'll see you around this summer.”

Elayna winks before walking out the door.

#fic: what happened in Paris...#oc: elayna reyne #Tyland Lannister x OFC #Tylana #persephone writes #pairing: what happens in Paris...

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vampirejuno · 1 year ago

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Mutual 1: ughhhhh I hate him I hate him so much I want to kill him and rip him apart with my teeth!!!!!! [Picture of character who is present in their url, avatar, and background photo]

Mutual 2: if another customer asks me to scan their 59 expired coupons I will dismember myself in front of them

Mutual 3: shitting again!! #diarrhea #ibs #girl dinner #student life #cottagecore

Mutual 4: poll should I move to Nebraska yes/no

Mutual 5: I need [character from children's cartoon] to vivisect me and then gently stitch me back together so I can unbecome and be remade

Mutual 6: what if we all killed our selves together. On the count of three

Mutual 7: [16 reblogs of the saw bathroom scene]

Mutual 8: baked a pie today there is still beauty in the world 😍❤️💗😌😊👍✨🥰💕👌🥺

Mutual 9: love tastes like acid in my mouth I want to rip it out of my chest but it's taken root like an invasive plant and it's covering all the walls with its vines and I'm drowning myself in pesticides and the gardener (my therapist) is shaking his head in disappointment. This metaphor has gotten away from me

Mutual 10: finally finished that little project. Not super happy with it but at least it's done [picture of 12×8ft tapestry, hand-embroidered]

Mutual 11: do you guys think they're more of a boygirl or more of a girlboy. Here's some evidence to consider [15 pictures of gerard way in mini skirts and lab coats]. Discuss.

Mutual 12: -and it's absolutely ridiculous to imply that Koko the gorilla knew real sign language when if you do even a little research you'll see that the scientists were reading too much into her responses, there was zero grammar present in her communication, they didn't even consult actual deaf people and the whole thing stinks of wishful thinking. Op should be ashamed of themselves. Also fuck Chomsky

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homemakinghippie · 10 months ago

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DIY Cleaning Products 101

Personally I don't love the ingredients in most conventional cleaning products. They generally have artificial fragrance and other endocrine disrupters and things you don't really want to be breathing in. For the last year I have been making most of my own cleaning products and in addition to being healthier, I've noticed I save money doing this as well. I want to share some of my favorite recipes for cleaning products, but there are definitely things you need to know about the different ingredients first so I'm sharing this first.

Vinegar- Vinegar is an amazing all purpose cleaner for tables, counters, any surfaces that aren't natural stone like marble or granite. I also love using it for washing produce and replacing fabric softener (no your fruit won't taste like vinegar and your clothes won't smell like it). It can effectively remove some pesticide residue, as well as help the produce last longer. Some recipes you find online recommend mixing vinegar with baking soda or castile soap-neither of these should be mixed with vinegar. Both baking soda and castile soap have a basic pH, while vinegar is acidic. Mixing baking soda and vinegar makes a cool chemical reaction, but you're left with fancy salt water. Mixing it with castile soap basically unsaponifies the soap, making it completely useless as well. If you want to add some scent to your vinegar you can add citrus peels or pine needles to it and let them sit for a few weeks before straining. NEVER mix vinegar with bleach or hydrogen peroxide. Vinegar and bleach makes chlorine gas, vinegar and hydrogen peroxide makes peracetic acid. Both of these are extremely dangerous.

Baking Soda- Baking soda is a great abrasive for scrubbing, and a great deodorizer. I use baking soda on my glass top stove, scrubbing my toilets, scrubbing the shower, anywhere I need extra scrubbing help. As I mentioned before it shouldn't be mixed with vinegar because they cancel each other out. I do like using it with castile soap for bathroom cleaning though.

Castile soap- Castile soap has soooo many uses. If you've ever looked at a bottle of Dr Bronner's you've seen the huge list of things they recommend it for. It shouldn't be mixed with vinegar, but castile soap can leave behind some soap scum if you have hard water so rinsing with a vinegar/water mix after use is often recommended. I like using it in the bathroom as well as dish and hand soap (I wouldn't put this in your dishwasher though, hand washing only with this).

70% Isopropyl Alcohol- Also known as rubbing alcohol, 70% isopropyl alcohol is a great disinfectant. When using it you need to make sure you're using 70%. This is a standard dilution you can get at the store, but many people don't realize how important the dilution percentage is. If you mix it with water there won't be enough alcohol to disinfect, and if you use higher than 70% there's too much alcohol and it will evaporate before it can do it's job. I use this all over my house from the kitchen, to the bathroom, to disinfecting my nail supplies after doing an at home manicure. It also works amazingly as a glass cleaner.

Hydrogen Peroxide- Hydrogen peroxide is another great disinfectant, but it's not one I personally use as much. I keep it in my cleaning closet in case I want it for something, but unlike alcohol it needs to be wiped away after sitting for a bit.

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uollop · 2 years ago

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The Battle of The Flower Shops (Pt.1) (Trigun x reader flower shop AU)

Content: gn!reader, "enemies" to friends (for now, but also enemies is a strong word), it's not heavy but there is drinking, flower shop au

Word count: 4.7 k

Notes: First fanfiction since middleschool YvY

Part Two

There's a big event coming up and two flower shops in town, one owned by a pair of twins that you've heard malicious stories about... And the other being yours. Only one of them can get the job and, with how big of a deal this event is, you better hope it's yours

You pulled flowers from the containers around your flower shop, trying to hold up color swatches to match the requested colors as well as possible. Sweat dripped down your brow as you went from shelf to shelf, trying to find this odd pink color, which you weren't sure could even be found in nature. You were struggling badly. Nothing you had seemed to fit the requested color and you weren't sure if you would have the time to get a new batch of neon pink flowers. Grunting in frustration, you glanced over your shoulder at one of your coworkers, who was spraying some of the flowers with water.

"Hey, Meryl! Can you do me a favor and look in the back and see if you can find any flowers that match this color?" You say as you hand her the color swatch. She gives you a nervous look before nodding and marching into the back of the store to try to find something that matches the fluorescent color. You sighed and gathered what you could that matched the other colors, bundles of baby's breath and balloon flowers. Blue, white, and a very hot pink. They were odd colors for this event, that's for sure, but you were just a florist, it wasn't your business to judge the tastes of potential customers.

There was a wedding coming up. A big wedding. One that could potentially grow your small flower shop's business exponentially. There was just one problem: you weren't the only florist in the town. There was another small flower shop that had unfortunately opened up around the same time yours did, a few streets down. Your employees would gossip about how it was run by two diabolic brothers, who would use harmful pesticides on their flowers. They would talk about how the brothers only cared about the appearance of the flowers and not the quality. It made your blood boil. You had been working towards opening this flower shop nearly your whole life, dedicating a lot of time and tears into making sure that your flowers were as healthy as possible. The idea that these two were making money off of harming their flowers was annoying to say the very least, especially when you were their competition for this wedding.

Both flower shops had been invited to present the flowers they had that would match the wedding's colors. The presentations would be this weekend and you had been doing a lot of research on the couple. They were two of the richest people in the city, so it would be an extravagant wedding. If your flowers were picked, it would likely be a lot of work to fulfill the entire order, but the money it would bring into the business would allow for the greenhouse expansion you had been wanting. Your employees were putting more effort into this job as well, since you had promised them that you would be able to afford to hire more staff if this client was successful which would allow them to have more time off.

You hear a door open and look up to the back of the building, expecting to see Meryl coming back from the storage room, but you were surprised to see the back door still closed and no Meryl. Raising an eyebrow, you looked towards the front door and jumped a bit, surprised to see a man with dark hair and sunglasses standing in the doorway, eyeing your quaint shop's walls with intrigue. "Hello! Welcome! How can I help you?" You ask with the cheeriest customer service voice you could manage, moving the flower arrangement you had been working on behind the counter and approaching the man. Suddenly, as you approach, you're hit with the scent of smoke, noticing a crumpled cigarette in between his lips.

"Oh, uh- Could you put that out if you don't mind? Smoke isn't good for the flowers..." You mutter as politely as you can without getting annoyed that he missed the giant "NO SMOKING" sign in the window. He chuckles, dropping the cigarette to the ground and stomping on it with his foot, smearing ash across the pristine floor, making you grimace a bit.

"So, how's the arrangement for the wedding goin'?" He asks in a gruff voice, scratching the stubble on his chin. You raise an eyebrow and cross your arms across your chest, eyeing him up and down suspiciously.

"What wedding arrangement?" You finally question after a pause, trying to play dumb. He could easily be a plant from the other flower shop trying to get an idea of what their competition would be like. He suddenly leans in, a bit closer than you would like and smiles at you.

"The one for the competition. Is that what's behind the counter?" He asks, walking past you towards the counter. You quickly reach for his sleeve and tug him backwards, "Those flowers aren't finished and, unless you're the groom, then you can't see them. Can't have it getting out which flowers we're using."

He turns around and raises an eyebrow, shrugging, "What's the harm? I'm just a guy that's a little curious! I've heard about the competition between the two shops and I was just curious as to what you were planning. I've already checked out the other place too. They let me look at their arrangement no problem," He chuckles, moving again to walk behind the counter before you give his sleeve a harder yank. He didn't budge much but it did enough to make him stop, turning to look at you over the rims of his sunglasses.

"Like I said, they aren't finished. And, oddly enough, I don't believe you. I've heard some of my employees talk about a man that's often seen with the brothers who run the other place, and you sound an awful like his description. Dark hair, sunglasses," You wrinkle your nose, "the constant smell of smoke."

He lets out a rumbling laugh, turning to you and placing his hands in his pockets, "You know, that's a pretty broad description. You could get in trouble making assumptions about people like that. You know what they say-"

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening is back, and this time, it is Meryl. She's holding a bundle of hot pink roses, looking down and comparing them to the swatch, "Hey, I think I-" She stops when she sees the man standing in front of you, suddenly pointing an accusatory finger at him.

"You work for the twins! Get out of here! Shoo!" Meryl sets down the flowers and picks up a nearby broom, swatting him repeatedly with it, his sounds of protests blocked out by her yelling as she pushes him towards the exit with the broom. You hear a quiet grumble from him, "Alright, alright, I'm going...!" followed by the sound of the front door shutting, Meryl turning around with a huff and dusting off her hands like she had just accomplished something big, which she honestly probably had. You had never been the best at confrontation, so having Meryl there to come to your rescue was nice.

"Thank you, Meryl. I knew he was a little fishy," You say with a thankful smile as you walk back behind the counter and pull out the work in progress arrangement. "Those flowers you found are almost perfect!" She smiles sheepishly and rubs the back of her neck, "It's nothing! Just had to do a bit of scavenging. We really need to better organize the storage room."

“Ah, you’re right… Maybe, if we get this job, we can have someone clean it professionally!” You tease, taking a few of the roses she brought and adding them to the bouquet. “What do you think?” You ask, turning the arrangement to face her.

“I think… the color choices are a bit odd…” She says honestly before shrugging, “but it’s what they asked for! I think they’ll love it.” You breathe a sigh of relief at her words, wrapping a bow around the arrangement and moving to put it in the cooler so that they stay fresh until this weekend.

“Just gotta make sure nothing happens before this Saturday.” You say, taking off your apron and folding it over your arms, “are you ready to close up for the day?”

“You did what!?” Vash gawks at Nicholas, who has a few tiny scratch marks on his face and disheveled hair from the attack he received from Meryl. Wolfwood let out a sigh, brushing a hand through his black hair and looking away ashamed.

“I thought I could give you guys a bit of edge for the competition,” He grumbles, shrugging at them, “guess I didn’t realize how well known it is that I’m your pal.”

Vash lets out a groan of disapproval and Nai shakes his head in disappointment, “You shouldn’t have done that. If they tell the bride and groom that we tried to spy on them, that could ruin any possible advantage we may have had,” Nai clicks his tongue, brushing past Nicholas to turn their sign to “Closed” for the night. Vash’s eyes widen at his brother's words, groaning as he hits his head on the counter.

“Look, guys, I’m sorry! I won’t go anywhere near their shop again, I promise,” Wolfwood grunts, lifting his glasses and rubbing his eyes, “That girl that applied here when you opened, Meryl, she’s working there and recognized me. I didn’t expect her to be there, or else I probably could’ve gotten away with it. I saw a small glimpse of their arrangement, and they’ve nailed the colors pretty well.”

Wolfwood’s words are followed by a hesitant silence before Nai speaks up, “Did you see what flowers they used-”

“Nai! We’re not cheating! We need to win this fair and square.” Vash interrupts, looking at their slightly pitiful arrangement. The pink flowers they had chosen were not remotely close to the swatch the bride had provided, but they didn’t exactly have many options. The blue flowers they had chosen, however, were spot on. Maybe, if they were given enough time, they could explain to the bride and groom that they could acquire better pink flowers eventually, but the odds of them accepting that excuse was slim.

Saturday came in a flash, you had been able to make a few small arrangement options with your chosen flowers, hoping that maybe some variety would help. You and Meryl load the flowers into the company van, securing them carefully to ensure that nothing bad would happen during the drive to the groom’s estate.

“I’ll drive!” Meryl chirps, moving to the driver's side door before you stop her with your arm.

“Meryl… Last time you drove, you almost got a man killed. I’ll drive this time, ok?” You laugh, opening the driver's door and hopping in. You hear Meryl grumble something as she moves to the other side of the Van, hopping in and buckling up.

The drive to the estate was a bumpy one, making you a little anxious. You kept telling Meryl to glance in the back and see if the flowers were ok and, while she said they looked fine every time, it didn’t help quell your anxieties. When you arrived, you flung yourself to the back, making sure every petal was still in place, breathing a sigh of relief when you saw they really were fine. As you’re carrying the flowers out of the van and towards the doors of the estate, another van pulls up with the other flower shop’s logo on it. Your breath hitches for a second, ready to finally see the two evil twins that seemingly treat their flowers so poorly. First came a man with golden blond hair, who almost tripped and face planted getting out of the van. Immediately, some of your worries about the evilness about these two were eased. That is, until the other twin came out. His almost white hair and pale skin, his eyes narrowed in a way that sent chills down your spine.

You glanced nervously for a moment before his head started turning in your direction, causing you to quickly avoid his gaze and start shuffling yourself to the front door, Meryl following close behind with some notes you planned on bringing up about how you were the better choice. She moved in front of you and rang the doorbell, waiting patiently as you anxiously glanced behind you at the twins. It seems like they had brought one large arrangement instead of a few small ones like you had, the twin with the golden hair carrying it and talking to his brother as they leisurely walked towards the door. Their flowers did look very nice, they were almost glowing, but they didn’t seem like they were secretly unhealthy. The better view you got of the flowers the more impressed you were with how seemingly well they were taken care of. The only issue with their large arrangement was the pink flowers, which were a little too dull compared to the swatch you had been given. Hopefully that would give you a bit of an advantage.

“Hello!” The one carrying the arrangement piped up, waving at you before almost dropping the flowers, stumbling over himself for a moment before he steadied, grinning nervously at his brother who was glaring at his clumsiness.

“Hello.” You respond curtly, not making the mistake of waving back at him considering your full arms. This guy may seem nice, but letting your guard down would be a mistake right now. Even if they don’t appear to be as bad as you had heard, they still sent someone to spy on you, which you didn’t appreciate.

The brothers make their way up the steps, standing on the porch behind you and Meryl as you all waited, albeit a little awkwardly, for the owners to come to the door. The one with the golden hair glances between the three of you before chiming up again, “My name is Vash! And this is–” He nudges his brother with his elbow, whispering, “Nai, introduce yourself! Be polite!” You wondered if he knew that you could hear him.

Nai grunts before rolling his eyes, “They’re our competition. There’s no need to be polite to them-” Suddenly the door opens, revealing the groom, covered in lipstick stains and sweat. Did they forget what today was?

“Ah, the florists! Come in, come in!” He motions quickly for you all to come in and makes some room for you to enter. You and Meryl enter first, the twins close behind.

“My fiancee is getting ready right now,” The groom explains as he smooths down his hair, wiping some of the lipstick from the corner of his mouth, “we lost track of time a bit, sorry for taking so long to get to the door!” He jests, leading them to an extravagant dining room.

“You can set your flowers down on those tables over there,” He gestures towards a pair of tables at the end of the room, sitting down and making himself comfortable in one of the chairs. After all of the arrangements are set up, you glance at theirs again, admiring the craftsmanship in the placement of the flowers. They seem to be eyeing up your pieces as well, murmuring to each other occasionally. It doesn’t take too long before the bride walks into the room, looking much fresher than her soon-to-be husband. She clasps her hands together in delight as she walks up to the tables, admiring all of the flowers.

“Oh, honey, come look at these!” She smiles with glee as she reaches for some of the flowers on the brothers’ arrangement.

“It’s best if you don’t touch them. Their arrangement is meticulous.” Nai interrupts, the bride stopping her hand before it can reach the flowers, an embarrassed look crossing her face.

“Oh, of course! My apologies,” She smiles as she continues to glance up and down at the arrangement of the other team, “well these are wonderful, but…” you catch a glimpse of a grimace on Vash’s face.

“This pink color isn’t exactly what we had in mind.” The groom interrupts as he walks up next to his wife, smiling at you and Meryl. “Their pink is much more accurate, but I do like the blue flowers you boys picked! This is going to be a tough one…”

You glance nervously between the bride and the groom as they come closer to examine your arrangements, whispering to each other a bit before you decide you should mention some of the things you had wanted to bring up, “We decided on a few small arrangements so that you could get a taste of the different kind of options you’ll have!” You grin, your customer service voice returning as you gesture towards your flowers.

“There are a lot of benefits to choosing our shop! We-” The groom cuts Meryl off by raising his hand before she can finish her pitch.

“We’re just interested in the flowers, thanks.” He explains, Meryl’s face flushing a bit, before she nods, “Oh, of course!”

“We’ll be right back, we need to discuss a few things!” The bride chirps, taking her fiance by the arm and pulling him into one of the adjacent rooms. You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and glanced at Meryl, patting her arm, “Sorry they didn’t want to hear our pitch, but it’s ok! We’ve got this.” You say, trying to lift her experience as Nai scoffs.

“Your little arrangements definitely aren’t going to be enough for them.” Nai says coldly, glancing at your flowers and crossing his arms.

“What he means is that- uh- This couple seems to like fancy things so we thought we’d make a fancy arrangement.” Vash explains, elbowing his brother slightly as Nai huffs, “Yes, that’s what I meant.”

You hadn’t considered that. Hopefully they take into account the fact that these small arrangements of yours can easily be translated into a larger one with enough time. Your thoughts are interrupted when the couple returns with proud smiles on their faces.

“We have a proposal!” The bride chimes, pulling her partner by the arm towards the tables.

“We really like the size of this one, as well as the blue flowers, but the pink flowers are a little lacking,” she explains as she gestures towards the twins’ arrangement. “This one is nice, but they’re a little small and the blue color isn’t emphasized much, so…..”

Both teams hold their breath as they wait to hear which one of them will be chosen for the job.

“We’ve decided that we will pay you extra if you share the workload!” The bride says gleefully as your eyes widen. You hadn’t considered that possibility, but these two clearly seem to want nice flowers at their wedding, even if it means getting flowers from two businesses at once.

“But that-”

“Sounds great! We’d love to work with you guys! How about, after this, we meet up for dinner to discuss how to go about it?” Vash smiles as he cuts off his brother, extending his metal hand towards you and Meryl. You hadn’t noticed his prosthetic until now, but cautiously you take the cold fingers in your hand and shake his hand. You look up at him, smiling nervously as he grins back at you.

“It’s settled then! We will be buying from both of you!”

Dinner is… awkward at first. Meryl and yourself sat on one side of the booth while the brothers sat on the other side. You were hoping that you wouldn’t be sitting across from Nai, but fate is cruel and here you were, face to face with the scary looking man. Meryl and Vash are chatting away and you and Nai are just basking awkwardly in the silence.

“So… Nai, was it?” You ask, looking for a little bit of small talk with the man. Maybe he wasn’t as scary and cold as you thought.

“You may call me Knives.” He says so quietly you can barely hear him. Ok, he definitely was as scary and cold as you thought.

“Oh, ok… Knives it is then. Is that some sort of nickname or?” You question, waiting for a waiter to come and interrupt this awkward conversation. He nods silently instead of responding or maybe telling you why he got the nickname, which makes your eye twitch in annoyance. You clear your throat and tell him your name, receiving a pretty insignificant response from him. It seems Vash notices the tension as he chimes up, “It’s just a nickname he chose for himself! He prefers that strangers don't use his real name. He won’t tell me why.”

“Ah, I see!” You say, nodding your head, “Well, it’s a cool nickname.”

Your compliment is followed by silence. You start to squirm in your seat a little, unsure if what you said offended Knives somehow. Suddenly, thank god, the waiter appears and asks what you would like. You order a round of drinks for all of you. Hopefully alcohol will help lighten the mood a bit… Or it could make it way worse. Who knows? It’s a risk you’re willing to take to get out of this awkward situation.

It doesn’t take long for your drinks to arrive, Meryl deciding on some water and both of the twins picking their own poisons. You decided on your favorite alcoholic drink for tonight to treat yourself, taking a sip and sighing to yourself as you think about how the floral presentations went. It wasn’t exactly the response you had wanted, but it was better than not being chosen at all.

“Something on your mind?” Knives suddenly asks, you looking up at him in surprise, not noticing that he had been watching you.

“Oh, nothing! Just trying to think about how we are going to work on the project together.” You give a half truth as you continue to drink from your glass. Vash looks over and adds to the conversation, “At least we both get a chance to make some extra cash, right? What are you planning on doing with the money?” He asks as you notice that his glass is already empty.

“That was fast…” you think to yourself as you remember your previous plans for what to do with the money, “We were going to try to expand the shop with a greenhouse, and maybe hire some more staff,” You explain with a shrug. “I’m not sure if we’ll have enough money for both anymore, since we’re splitting it. I’ll have to decide on one or the other.”

“You should pick the greenhouse!” Meryl pipes up, smiling at you. “Me and the others can manage the workload, so don’t stress about hiring new people.”

You give Meryl a sympathetic look, smiling at her and shaking your head, “I told you guys I would try to get some more staff as soon as possible. The greenhouse can wait.”

“If you need a bit of our share of the money so that you can do both, we can share!” Vash says excitedly, the look on Knives face saying that he did not agree to the idea. Noticing Knives’ reaction, you shake your head politely.

“Thank you, but you guys are just as new of a shop as we are. I wouldn’t want to take any of your potential funds.”

There’s a bit of a back and forth between you and Vash on whether or not they should share their half of the money, with the occasional nod of approval or disapproval from Knives and a comment or two from Meryl. You all order food and continue to drink as you converse, ending up with Vash conceding and saying that they would keep their side of the money. You smile to yourself in triumph as Knives gives you a small smile of approval, making you shiver. You didn’t know that man had the capacity to smile, and, even if he was trying to look kind or happy, it felt a little wrong.

“Nai! Are you smiling?” Vash teases, elbowing his brother. Knives scoffs at this, the “smile” immediately wiped from his face. “No, I am not, you may want to get your vision checked, brother.” He says through gritted teeth, voice filled with annoyance and cheeks flushed a bit. You were unsure if his cheeks were pink due to the alcohol or due to the fact that Vash was embarrassing him, but you can’t help but giggle.

“What are you laughing at?” Knives’ cold voice falls on your ears, and, when you look up at him, you can’t really take his coldness seriously anymore. “You guys seem close! That’s nice.”

“We are not-”

“We’re so close! Not many brothers open flower shops together! It was Nai’s idea, he’s been fascinated by flowers ever since we were kids! Do you remember-”

“Stop!” Knives cuts him off, suddenly standing from his seat. His face is still very pink as he picks up his bag and turns on his heel. “I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

“Wait, Knives you can’t-” Vash doesn’t get the chance to explain as Knives starts walking away. “You can’t leave because I have the keys to the van…” Vash sighs to himself as you watch Knives leaving the restaurant.

“Here, I’ll go check on him.” You offer, standing up and picking up your bag, your step a little uneasy due to the drinks you’ve had. “I’ll be right back.”

You walk out of the restaurant and look around, some light rain starting to fall from the dark sky. At first, you can’t find Knives anywhere and you’re worried he tried to walk home alone before you hear a voice around the side of the building.

“I am asking you nicely to come and get me, so do it before I ask in a less nice way.” You hear Knives talking to someone. You turn the corner and see him on the phone, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration as he talks to the person on the other end.

“Wolfwood, he’s embarrassing me in front of the-” He cuts himself off when he sees you, quickly muttering something and hanging up, crossing his arms and looking away from you. You can see that the tips of his ears are burning, but you chalk it up to the alcohol in your system.

“You okay?” You ask calmly, placing your hand on his shoulder. He glances back at you before clicking his tongue.

“I’m fine. Just needed some fresh air. I was going to come back soon.” He explains, but you can see through his lie with ease.

“Really? Wolfwood isn’t able to come and get you?” You ask, gently teasing him as he raises an eyebrow at you.

“Were you eavesdropping?” He asks coldly, his sharp eyes glaring, well, knives into you. You shake your head and hold up your hands.

“No, I- I offered to come and check up on you. You seemed upset and Vash has the keys to the van so I knew you wouldn’t be far.” You explain defensively, shaking your head and sighing.

“Look, I don’t know how else to say this, but, if we’re going to work together, you’ll have to learn to tolerate me.” You suggest as calmly as you can. He eyes you up and down in a confused expression before grunting, “I am tolerating you.”

This conversation is starting to annoy you. “It doesn’t feel like you’re tolerating me. It feels like you hate me. You’re always staring at me and your expression is… cold. I don’t know how else to describe it, but it’s weird.”

His eyes widen at your words and he stands straight. “You…” You’re hopeful for a second that he’s about to see this from your point of view, before your hopes are shattered when he mutters, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Your hair is starting to get soaked from the rain and your hands twitch a bit at his words. “I think I know perfectly well what I’m talking about, Knives, I-”

“Nai.”

You stop in your tracks, confusion making its way across your face.

��I thought that you don’t-”

“I don’t like strangers using that name. The more I look at you... I think you and I…” He trails off a bit, looking away, “have met before.”

PART TWO COMING SOON THANK YOU FOR READING THAT WHOLE MESS ILY BYE

UPDATE: Part two is out!

#trigun #trigun stampede #trigun x reader #knives x reader #vash x reader #vash the stampede #nicholas d wolfwood #meryl stryfe #flower shop au #trigun flower shop au #vash x you

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