#natural stone carpet floor

[floorcleaningdublin]

Natural Stone Carpet Cleaning

Natural stone carpets are a unique and stylish flooring option, blending the beauty of natural stone with the comfort of carpeting. Made from small stones like quartz, marble, or river rock, these carpets are embedded in a resin matrix, creating a textured, durable, and aesthetically pleasing surface. Stone carpets are commonly used in both indoor and outdoor settings, and they add a touch of elegance to any space. However, cleaning and maintaining a natural stone carpet requires special care to preserve its appearance and prevent damage. In this guide, we will cover the best practices for cleaning natural stone carpets, including daily maintenance, deep cleaning, and stain removal.

Understanding Natural Stone Carpets

Natural stone carpets, unlike traditional carpets, are made up of natural pebbles or small stones bound together by resin. This structure gives them a unique, porous texture, which requires careful cleaning to avoid dirt buildup or damage to the resin. The porous nature of the stone carpet means it can trap dirt and grime more easily than other types of flooring, making regular maintenance essential.

Daily Maintenance for Natural Stone Carpets

Regular cleaning is the key to keeping natural stone carpets looking fresh and free from debris. Daily maintenance helps prevent dirt and dust from settling into the porous surface.

Vacuuming Vacuuming is one of the most effective methods for daily cleaning of natural stone carpets. Use a vacuum cleaner with a soft-bristle attachment or a brush roller specifically designed for delicate surfaces. Regular vacuuming helps remove loose dirt and particles from the carpet’s textured surface, preventing them from becoming embedded in the stone and resin. Vacuum high-traffic areas daily and other areas as needed to maintain cleanliness.

Sweeping or Dry Mopping In addition to vacuuming, sweeping or dry mopping can help pick up surface debris and dust. A soft-bristle broom or a microfiber mop is ideal for this purpose. These tools are gentle on the surface of the natural stone, ensuring that the resin doesn’t get scratched or damaged. Dry mopping can be particularly useful for removing fine dust and particles that vacuuming may miss.

Spot Cleaning Spills If spills occur, it’s important to clean them up immediately to prevent stains from setting into the stone. For small spills, use a damp cloth to gently blot the area. Avoid rubbing the spill, as this can push it deeper into the stone’s porous surface. For larger spills, use a mild detergent mixed with warm water, then blot the area gently and rinse with clean water.

Weekly or Routine Cleaning for Natural Stone Carpets

In addition to daily maintenance, natural stone carpets should undergo a more thorough cleaning on a weekly basis, especially in areas with heavy foot traffic.

Damp Mopping To clean the surface more deeply, damp mop the natural stone carpet using a soft microfiber mop and a mild, pH-neutral cleaner. It’s important to avoid harsh chemical cleaners, as they can damage both the resin and the natural stones. Avoid soaking the carpet with water, as excessive moisture can penetrate the resin and affect the stone bed.

Rinsing After cleaning with a damp mop, rinse the area with clean water to remove any soap residue that may have been left behind. Leftover residue can cause the stone to look dull and may attract more dirt over time. Ensure the floor is thoroughly rinsed to maintain its natural luster.

Deep Cleaning Natural Stone Carpets

Despite regular maintenance, natural stone carpets will occasionally need deep cleaning, particularly in areas that are heavily used or exposed to outdoor elements. Deep cleaning helps restore the carpet’s natural beauty and remove embedded dirt.

Use a Specialized Stone Cleaner For deep cleaning, use a cleaner specifically formulated for natural stone surfaces. These cleaners are designed to remove dirt and grime without damaging the stone or resin. Follow the manufacturer’s instructions for the best results. Always test the cleaner on a small, inconspicuous area before applying it to the entire carpet to ensure it won’t cause any discoloration.

Brush Cleaning For more thorough cleaning, use a soft-bristle brush or a scrubbing pad to gently work the cleaning solution into the textured surface. Be sure to scrub gently to avoid damaging the resin or scratching the stones. After scrubbing, rinse the area with clean water to remove any cleaning solution.

Stain Removal for Natural Stone Carpets

Because of the porous nature of stone, stains can sometimes penetrate deep into the surface. Here's how to handle common stains on natural stone carpets:

Grease or Oil Stains For grease or oil stains, apply a poultice made of baking soda and water to the stained area. Let the mixture sit for several hours or overnight to draw the oil out of the stone. Then, scrub gently with a soft brush and rinse with water.

Wine or Coffee Stains If liquids like wine or coffee spill on the carpet, blot the area immediately to remove excess moisture. Use a mild soap and warm water mixture to gently clean the stain, then rinse thoroughly.

Cleaning and maintaining natural stone carpets requires a delicate approach, but with the right care, you can preserve their unique beauty for years to come. By incorporating daily vacuuming, routine mopping, and occasional deep cleaning, you can keep your natural stone carpet free of dirt and grime. Spot cleaning spills immediately and using the right cleaning products will help prevent stains and ensure that the natural stones retain their vibrant, polished appearance.

[elise-rosy-unicorn]

Minneapolis Formal Idea for a mid-sized traditional formal living room that is enclosed, carpeted, and has gray walls, a standard fireplace, and no television.

[scottpilgvrim]

Uncovered Deck Los Angeles

Inspiration for a mid-sized southwestern backyard outdoor kitchen deck remodel with no cover

[ultrashinecleaningservices]

Ultra Shine Carpet Care is your one-stop shop for professional cleaning services. We take pride in providing high-quality Carpet Cleaning, Upholstery Cleaning, Tile And Grout Cleaning, Natural Stone Cleaning, Mattress Cleaning, Window Cleaning, and Pet Odor Removal services in Riverside and the surrounding areas. Call us for more information!

[jawdroppingmen]

Enclosed Family Room Mid-sized mountain style enclosed carpeted and beige floor family room photo with brown walls, a standard fireplace, a stone fireplace and a media wall

[aarikawolfnews]

Living Room Home Bar

[casscaincampaign]

Denver Traditional Home Bar

[bloumiddel]

Rustic Bedroom - Guest

[piratesfromspace]

Just Like Old Times (Price x Reader + poly141)

Pairing: Reader x Price (& Reader x 141) Rated: Mature Word count: 2.9k Summary: A cottage in the snow. A Captain you knew in another life. His rugged and attractive men. Will you let them into your life? Note: This is a fic I wrote for @literatecowboy for the Secret Santa event organized by @bunnyreaper! I tried to make something soft and sweet and it's taking place during the winter, it's not smutty but if you like it, I can make a part 2 with some action 👀

EDIT: we have a PART 2!!

Content: ex-military!fem!reader, mention of food & alcohol, a little bit of angst but it’s mainly fluff, smoking, flirting, praise kink, sharing body heat

MASTERLIST // PART 2

It had been Laswell’s idea. 

The team needs to be ready for snow conditions, do whatever you think is best. You have 3 weeks. And I’m talking extreme weather, Price, not a little trip to your local ski resort.

Those had been the instructions Kate had delivered to an unphased Price.

He knew it was only a matter of time before this kind of mission would be required from them. Of course, the men of the 141 have already trained in the cold of England, have seen and tested the winter gear. But Laswell is about to send them somewhere at the very East of Europe, and there is a small difference between surviving winter in London and surviving winter in places where the cold could kill you in minutes if you didn't have the proper equipment or knowledge. Over there, more than usual, tiny mistakes could have big consequences. And Price would rather not have his team freeze to death because of a lack of training. 

It’s December and the month is cold already. But it’s nothing compared to the cold Soap feels when he steps out of the helicopter. It’s like Price has picked the coldest place he knows in America. He’s pretty sure they are somewhere in Wyoming or Montana, the only thing he can see are mountains all around them. Spruce and fir trees sprawl in dark patches contrasting with the stark white of the snow covering everything. He crosses the large glade to reach the tree line, as the helicopter takes off, sending the fresh snow flying in every direction. The sky is a light gray, and while the whole scene is stunning - makes his head spin with equal awe and wonder thinking about nature’s force and brutal beauty - it means there is no sun to warm his face. 

“Come on soldiers, let’s move, we still have a two-hour hike to reach our B&B!”

“You mean someone will be there to make us breakfast Captain?” Soap chimes, unbridled joy coming through his voice at the prospect of warm home-made meals instead of MREs.

Price has a hard time hiding a smile as he starts walking on the thin winding path, only recognisable for those who know it’s there. ”There will be someone, but I’m not sure they will cook for you, Sergeant.”

Ghost lets out a dry chuckle and follows the steps of their Captain, leaving Soap and Gaz a bit puzzled.

❄️

The sun is already setting when you hear loud voices outside, and soon after a series of knocks on your door. You’re a little stressed when you rise from the floor in front of your fireplace to go open the door. You have agreed to shelter those 4 soldiers for 3 entire weeks only as a favor to Price. An old acquaintance who saved your life, a decade earlier, before you left the field to heal your wounds - body and mind. The large wood cabin had been your home for a few years already. You keep it open for women like you, in need of time away from the world, although it’s pretty rare they come during winter time when the road is blocked by snow. It’s an old building, but well-kept and you made it as cozy as possible, all warm natural tones, plush carpets on dark wood floors, dark gray stones in the bathrooms. 

You welcome them with a soft smile, delighting in their surprise - seems like John had not told them he planned on using your cottage as a back-up base for this training expedition. John’s team members are not really what you expected: there is one Scott with a mohawk that seems simultaneously annoyed and happy to be there (he has terrific blue eyes), a young and calm brown-haired Brit (he’s really cute, like movie-star cute), and a behemoth with a literal skull mask (his size alone has your head spinning). You can’t complain about them though, as they are polite and friendly, praising your home - and for sure taking in the comfort and warmth one last time before heading off for days of rudimental camping in the icy woods. You don’t envy them, remembering that one mission you did in Siberia when you were still in active duty, that wasn’t really fun. They settle in their rooms easily and you all share a quick dinner you had cooked - except for the masked giant. The banter goes fast between them, especially after you offer them beers. You like being alone, but you have to admit they are fun to be around.

❄️

The living room is silent and dark, the only light coming from the fireplace across your couch. After dinner, you had trouble finding sleep in your room, so you went to read a bit in front of the fire. But you must have dozed off, because you wake up suddenly, gasping, arms flailing, sitting up immediately. Your frantic eyes, wide open, scan the room for the reason of your awakening, survival instinct going overdrive. Someone is standing in your living room, frozen in place on their way to the front door. It’s the behemoth with the skull mask - the scariest of them all, of course.

“Didn’t mean to scare you.” he apologizes. In the darkness of the room, it looks like his jaw is not even moving beneath the dark fabric covering the lower half of his face, like the sound just pours out of him or like he’s speaking directly inside your head. He might actually, you’re not entirely convinced the giant is not some sort of supernatural being John brought back from a cursed battlefield. It’s unnerving to say the least. 

“I’m sorry, it- it happens sometimes, I can’t help it, my instinct thought you were a threat…” you blurt out before realizing you may have offended him in some way by implying he’s not worthy of your trust. But instead of scoffing, he lets out a thoughtful hum, lowering his head to look at his boots, almost sheepish. 

“Don’t. Don’t apologize.” His voice is low, calm, and at the same time you can feel something else, sadness, maybe disappointment, in what or who, you’re not sure.

“Care for a smoke?” he offers after a beat of silence, nodding to the front door. You don’t smoke anymore, cut the nasty habit years ago. That’s why you don’t know what compels you to accept, but you’re not gonna be able to sleep now, so you follow him outside, grabbing your coat on the way. 

You half expect him to smoke through the mask, but he pushes the fabric up enough to reveal a strong jaw covered in light stubble, and plush lips. So he’s human after all. The slick and heavy storm lighter looks ridiculously small in his giant hand when he lights his cigarette. He takes a deep puff before handing it to you.

“Sorry, last one.”

Your fingers graze his, and you bring it to your lips to drag a small puff that immediately makes you cough.

“You ok?” he rasps, humor tilting the corner of his mouth upwards.

“Yeah, it’s been a while, that’s all” you provide. He hums in approval at your explanation. 

When you hand him the cigarette, you take a moment to look at his mouth, the way his throat works when he inhales, the way the silver smoke dances between his open lips and fades into the night sky. Something warms your gut when you realize his lips are set just where yours had been a few seconds ago. 

You don’t know what’s more attractive, this or the fact he doesn’t try to make conversation for the sake of it. He doesn’t bother to explain why he couldn’t sleep and felt the need to smoke at 3 in the morning. He knows you understand. You are just glad to bask in the soft noises of nature at night - wind in the threes, the hooting of an owl. Fuck, you’ve been alone up there for too long to thirst on John’s colleagues just like this, just a few hours after their arrival. You shake your head, driving out the thought, and take the cigarette again from his fingers.

❄️

The next morning, you wake up pretty early after a short night, only to find one of them - the pretty one, Gaz - is already fixing coffee in your kitchen like he belongs there. You honestly could get used to this. The thin long sleeves of his shirt are doing nothing to conceal the muscles underneath, rolling as he’s going about this mundane task of preparing breakfast. His kind eyes and soft voice when he asks for your choice of eggs makes your heart flutter with a yearning for this kind of intimate domesticity you had never really allowed yourself up until then. It’s kinda concerning, at this rate you’re gonna ask one - all? - of them to stay with you in your cottage instead of going back to whatever missions at the other end of the world. 

The rest of the day is not making you change your mind. Price had asked if anything needed their help around the house, and you gave them the tedious task of moving the gigantic pile of wood logs stocked at the other end of your garden closer to the house. It would have taken you days to do it by yourself. But by lunch time, the pile had dwindled to a fifth of what it was thanks to the hard work of the four men. The two younger ones were down to their long-sleeve compression shirts despite the cold, sleeves rolled up their elbows, showing off strong forearms, various scars slashing across the discreet swirls of black ink from old tattoos. Some disappear under the black gloves they are all sporting. Sweat plasters the fabric of their shirts to their shoulders and chests. You can’t deny they look fucking good. 

You had accepted Price’s demand without much after-thought, but now you couldn’t be more happy about it, ogling those four rugged men laboring away for you. Despite being older than his men, Price is far from looking bad. He’s built like a brick house, a healthy layer of fat covering muscles he’s been honing for two decades. Dark hair peaks from the open collar of his jacket, your eyes follow the line of the thin garment which is hugging his tapered waist, down to his thick thighs. Fuck. You remember what it was like to be close to him - literally and figuratively. He was your colleague, an equal, a couple years older than you but you shared the same rank. He was a mentor, a friend, a lover - only briefly, after that fateful mission where he saved your life on the field. You parted ways in good spirit after you announced that you wanted to retire, needed to get your head straight before committing to anything. Today, you ask yourself if maybe you could take this back from where you left it.

❄️

You want to train with us today, love? Just like old times.

Price had asked you the question the next morning and you had not been hard to convince. It was more about being able to look at them than to train your body, but they didn’t need to know that. Even if you keep a pretty healthy lifestyle, you can’t compete with elite soldiers, and by the fourth set of push-ups, your arms are giving out. You’re about to stop and reach for your water bottle, when Price notices. 

“Come on, you can do five more, I’m sure!”

You groan in response, but you go back in position.

“Breathe, love. Back a little more straight. Elbows in. That’s it… Good.” 

Price’s deep voice is calm as he’s encouraging you, gently correcting your posture.

“Don’t look down, chin up. Perfect, you’re doing good.” he goes on, and you cheeks warm under his praise, enough to make you forget the stinging cold. Your whole body is clenched with the effort, you’re letting out little cries with each push-up, your muscles are hurting, but you want nothing more than to make the captain proud.

“Just one more. Done! You did great darling, I’m impressed.” 

He helps you get up on shaking legs and when you almost stumble, he secures you upright against his chest, keeps you there for two seconds more than he should for it to not look intentional. When you raise your head, you’re suddenly so close to his face, blue eyes staring down at you with a glint in them you can’t ignore. You reluctantly part before reaching for your water bottle again, playing coy.

The three others are not oblivious to the little game between you and Price. You notice how they exchange knowing looks and little smiles whenever you both interact. Worst, they also seem to pick up on your love for being praised and soon enough they take every excuse to whisper how good your aim still is during target training, or how smart you are for knowing everything about the local fauna during your afternoon hike. It never sounds like they’re mocking you though, never feels like it’s not genuine. It’s not fair, really. At this rate, you don’t know how you’re gonna survive living under the same roof with four attractive men for three entire weeks. 

The answer to this torture of yours is revealed quickly. After a few days of acclimatization at your cottage, Price and his men are ready for a long expedition higher in the mountains, with just tents and even a short surviving-in-extreme-cold workshop. They will be gone for at least ten days. You watch them pack their gear and leave your place with a pinch in your heart you couldn’t expect when you first opened your door to them.

❄️

Days go by, pretty uneventful, until your heating system breaks down. It’s not the first time since you’re leaving up there, it’s not that scary but you’ll have to wait a few days for the repair team to come by. In the meantime, you resort to live and sleep in your living room, where the fireplace provides enough heat to keep you warm in the heart of the winter.

They come back the day after that, and when you see their silhouettes emerging from the treeline, just before the sun sets down, you can’t prevent your lips to form a smile so big it hurts your cheeks after a couple minutes standing in the biting cold. 

The fondness in Price’s eyes is not dulled by the news your heater is out of order, nor is the relief on Soap’s and Gaz’s faces at the promise of a solid roof and comfy beds after days of rudimentary accommodations.

You all work to prepare some food, and to bring a couple mattresses with all the duvets you can find in front of the fireplace - the only sane solution for you all to sleep without suffering too much from the freezing temperatures. It reminds you of your years of service, when you sometimes had to share a single room with your whole squad - you’re not missing the stress and the harsh living conditions, but you’re definitely missing the camaraderie, the jokes and fits of laughter, the bodies of trusted people around you. 

They leave you the couch - gentlemen that they are - the objectively most comfortable option, but once again you can’t find sleep. The piece of furniture is the farthest away from the fire, and you’re on your own, no one next to you to share body heat with you. 

It’s only because I’m cold. That’s the poor excuse you give yourself - and the one you whisper to Price - when you step down from your couch to seek a place under the cover next to John. He’s sleeping next to Gaz; Soap and Ghost are sharing the other mattress. You slide yourself against him, immediately melting into his chest, the man radiating heat like it’s his only purpose in life. He doesn’t even have to ask you if it’s okay to hold you against him because you plaster yourself to him and nuzzle against his chest, old habits taking over your sleepy brain. A sense of safety and comfort envelopes you at the same time his warmth does. You forgot how good it felt to be in his embrace, to be tucked against his broad chest, surrounded by his smell - manly, ambery wood, and the rich spice of his cigars. 

He chuckles silently as you settle at his side and let out a little content sigh. He missed that too, he won’t say it out loud, but having you like this, soft and pliant in his arms, it makes him wonder how he could be such a fool for not seeking you sooner. He suddenly wants to kiss you, to make you feel good, here and now, no matter the fact his men are sleeping just a few inches from you. Should he care? He’s not blind to the fact you spend a good amount of time leering at them since they’re here, and to the fact they are watching you back. He can not ignore the shameless flirting going on between all of you five actually. John has never really been in a situation like this, doesn’t know where this will lead him - where this could lead them. But he’s ready to follow you. He takes a deep breath before he talks. 

“Just like old times?” He asks, voice low, chest vibrating with it under your palm. 

Just like old times… The words echo in your head, echo in your heart. He gives you the opportunity to lead him - to lead them - wherever you wish.

“Just like old times.” You repeat back to him, before you capture his lips in a gentle kiss.

PART 2

[hd-junglebook]

Little Dove

Quinn Hughes x Reader

a:n Here is part 2, the only thing I could think of while writing this was 'The Gold' by Phoebe Bridgers. I think it really speaks for how y/n sees the situation and her life at the moment.

Masterlist Link

Summary: He's everything she wants. He's everything she wished she had. All she wanted was him. The hot and cold game has finally reached its limit.

Word Count - 5046

The sleek, black limo glided up the long, winding driveway, its polished exterior gleaming under the warm sunlight. As it approached the magnificent mansion, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the opulent surroundings.

The meticulously manicured lawn stretched out before her, a lush carpet of vibrant green grass that looked almost too perfect to be real.

In the center of the sprawling grounds, a grand fountain stood tall, its crystal-clear water cascading down the intricately carved stone tiers, creating a soothing symphony of gentle splashes.

As the limo came to a stop near the impressive front steps, a group of well-dressed helpers emerged from the mansion's large, ornate doors. They stood at attention, their crisp uniforms and shoes polished.

Just then, the front doors swung open, and Y/N's grandmother stepped out, a vision of elegance and grace. She was dressed in an all-white ensemble, the flowing fabric of her dress billowing gently in the breeze.

Her delicate hands were adorned with pristine white gloves, and a strand of exquisite pearls rested against her neck, catching the light and adding to her air of sophistication.

The driver swiftly exited the limo and rushed to Y/N's side, opening the door with a practiced flourish. He offered his hand, assisting Y/N and her mother out of the vehicle with the utmost care and reverence.

As they walked closer to the steps, Y/N's grandmother's face lit up with a warm, genuine smile. "Oh, darling, how I've longed to see you," she exclaimed, her voice filled with affection. "Come here, little dove."

Y/N couldn't help but feel a surge of emotion as she stepped into her grandmother's embrace. The older woman's arms wrapped around her, enveloping her in a comforting warmth that seemed to chase away all the stress and disappointment she had been carrying. It had been so long since anyone in her family had shown her such pure, unconditional love and acceptance.

Y/N breathed in the sweet, familiar scent of her grandmother's perfume, a delicate blend of chamomile and sugar.

The softness of her grandmother's gloves against her skin was a soothing contrast to the cold, impersonal interactions she was used to with her parents.

Around them, the grandeur of the mansion seemed to fade into the background, the lavish furnishings and priceless works of art becoming mere footnotes in the presence of Y/N and her grandmother.

Once they separated Y/N's grandmother cupped her face with her gloved hands, her eyes shining with pride and adoration. "Let me look at you, my dear," she said softly, taking in every detail of Y/N's appearance. "You've grown into such a beautiful young woman."

…

The posse entered the sun room, Y/N was struck by the sheer elegance of the space. The room was flooded with natural light, the sun's rays filtering through the large, floor-to-ceiling windows that offered a breathtaking view of the meticulously landscaped gardens beyond.

In the center of the room, a grand table was set with the finest china and silverware, each place setting arranged with precision and care. The aroma of freshly prepared delicacies filled the air, making Y/N's mouth water in anticipation.

As they took their seats, the conversation flowed easily, punctuated by laughter and the clinking of glasses. However, after a while, Cherise turned to Y/N with a knowing smile and asked her to accompany her for a walk in the garden.

Arm in arm, the two women strolled through the lush, meticulously maintained grounds. The garden was a true work of art, with winding paths that led through a maze of fragrant rose bushes, towering topiaries, and bubbling fountains.

Cherise broached the subject that had been weighing on her mind. "Tell me, dear, when will you settle down?" she asked, her voice laced with concern. "It hurts me to see you alone."

Y/N shook her head, a smile playing on her lips. "I'm not alone, grandmother," she replied, her voice soft but filled with contentment. "I am with someone. Nothing serious, but things are going smoothly now. He makes me happy."

The steady click of their heels against the pavement punctuated their words. Cherise listened intently, her eyes sparkling with mischief.

"Then give me a grandbaby already, if you're so happy," she teased, her laughter ringing out like a bell in the garden. Y/N couldn't help but join in, their laughter mingling with the chirping of the birds and the gentle rustle of leaves in the breeze.

Y/N smiled softly as her grandmother continued, her words filled with wisdom and understanding. "I'm only joking, little dove. I would like to meet him, maybe when things get 'serious,' I guess. I want you to feel love like I have with your grandfather. You deserve that, not some beneficial marriage like your mother and father. I don't know where I went wrong with her."

Y/N nodded along, finding no reason to disagree with her grandmother's sentiment. She knew that her parents' relationship was one of convenience and status, lacking the warmth and genuine connection she craved. "I think you'd like him," she said, a hint of hope in her voice.

As they neared the house, Dedra rushed down the stairs, her face tight with impatience. "Let's go, we have to get back to work," she demanded, her tone leaving no room for argument.

…

Y/N stepped into her bedroom, exhaustion weighing heavily on her shoulders. She slipped out of her clothes and into a comfortable robe, the soft fabric caressing her skin. Settling down at her vanity, she began removing her makeup, the process of wiping away the day's mask a soothing ritual.

As she reached for her phone, she noticed a message from Quinn. Her heart skipped a beat as she opened the conversation, eager to connect with him after the emotionally draining day.

Y/N: I wish you were here with me. Today was intense.

Quinn: I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?

Y/N: It's just family stuff. They have all these expectations, and I feel like I'm constantly disappointing them.

They texted back and forth, Y/N continued getting ready, applying her makeup with practiced precision. Once she finished her base, she stood up and slipped into the red dress she had chosen for their date. The fabric hugged her curves perfectly, accentuating her figure in all the right places.

She admired her reflection in the mirror, a small smile playing on her lips as she imagined Quinn's reaction. Just then, her phone buzzed with another message.

Quinn: I'm outside.

Y/N felt a flutter of excitement mixed with nerves as she grabbed her purse and made her way to the front door. She stepped outside, the cool evening air kissing her skin as she walked towards Quinn's car.

He had his windows rolled down, a smile on his face as he watched her approach. His eyes roamed over her body appreciatively, taking in the sight of her in the stunning red dress.

"Looking good," he said, his voice smooth and filled with admiration.

Y/N felt a blush creep onto her cheeks, a mixture of pleasure and uncertainty swirling within her. “Thanks hottie.” she said as she slid into the passenger seat. She knew that her feelings for Quinn were growing stronger each day, but the fear of him not wanting her scared beyond comprehension.

Quinn pulled out of Y/N's driveway, he glanced over at her, his gaze lingering for a few seconds. The curiosity in his eyes was evident. "So where is this restaurant you were telling me about or is it some kind of surprise?" she asked, leaning over the middle console.

He smiled mysteriously, enjoying the playful anticipation that hung in the air between them. "You'll just have to wait and see," he teased. Quinn chuckled at her betrayed expression, shaking his head in amusement as he focused on the road ahead.

conversation flowed easily between them, filled with laughter and the occasional playful jab. Even though they talked about nothing of great importance, Y/N found herself thoroughly enjoying the simple pleasure of Quinn's company.

city lights flashed by the windows, painting the interior of the car with a kaleidoscope of colors. Y/N leaned back in her seat, feeling a sense of contentment wash over her.

As they continued driving, y/n’s curiosity got the better of her once more. "Come on, Y/N, give me a hint," she pleaded, eyes sparkling with amusement. "I'm dying to know where you're taking me."

Quinn laughed, the sound filled with genuine joy. "Patience, dear," he chided gently, reaching over to give her hand a reassuring squeeze. "I promise it'll be worth the wait."

…

Y/N felt a shiver run down her spine as Quinn's strong hands grasped her waist, his touch both thrilling and comforting. She looked up at him, her eyes meeting his, and saw a glimmer of affection and excitement reflected back at her.

"Lead the way," she said softly, a smile playing on her lips as she allowed him to guide her towards the restaurant.

As they approached the entrance, Y/N couldn't help but marvel at the grandeur of the establishment. The facade was a masterpiece of modern architecture. The name of the restaurant was emblazoned above the doors in elegant, golden script.

Quinn's arm remained securely around her waist as they stepped through the doors. The interior of the restaurant was just as breathtaking as the exterior, with plush carpets, glittering chandeliers, and rich, velvet draperies.

The hostess led them to their table, she glanced at Quinn, taking in the way his suit hugged his athletic frame and the confident, easy smile that played on his lips. When they were seated, Quinn reached across the table and took her hand in his, his fingers intertwining with hers. She squeezed his hand in return.

They perused the menu, discussing the various options and sharing bites of each other's dishes. Quinn enthusiastically shared his plans for preparing his hockey team for the upcoming season. He spoke about new training regimens, team-building exercises, and strategies he hoped to implement.

Y/N listened intently, her eyes focused on Quinn as he passionately described his goals and aspirations.

However, at one point, Quinn glanced over at Y/N, a flicker of doubt crossing his features. He wondered if she was truly interested in the intricacies of his hockey career or if he was boring her with the details. Y/N, sensing his uncertainty, quickly broke into a smile and laughed, hoping to ease his worries.

"Everything about you interests me, Quinn," she said earnestly, reaching across the table to take his hand in hers. "I could never get bored of you. Being around you makes me happy, ya know?"

The sincerity in her voice was evident, but Quinn's reaction was not what Y/N had expected. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat, his hand stiffening under her touch. An awkward silence fell between them, the air thick with tension.

Quinn cleared his throat, his eyes darting around the restaurant as if searching for an escape. "Y/N," he began, his voice strained, "I... I think we need to talk."

Y/N felt her heart sink, a knot forming in the pit of her stomach. She withdrew her hand from his, folding her arms across her chest as if to protect herself from the words she knew were coming.

"I care about you, Y/N. I really do," Quinn continued, his gaze finally settling on her face. "But I need you to understand that I'm not looking for anything too serious right now. I thought we were on the same page about that."

Y/N nodded slowly, trying to swallow the lump that had formed in her throat. She knew Quinn had been clear about his intentions from the start, but somewhere along the way, she had allowed herself to hope for more.

"I know," she said softly, her voice barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable. I didn't mean to pressure you."

Quinn sighed, running a hand through his hair. "It's not your fault, Y/N. I should have been more clear. I just... I don't want to hurt you."

The words hung heavy in the air between them, a reminder of the fragility of their connection. Y/N forced a smile, trying to lighten the mood.

"It's okay, Quinn. We can take things slow. I'm just happy to be here with you." Quinn returned her smile, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The rest of the evening was spent in polite conversation, but the earlier ease and warmth between them had dissipated.

…

The pulsing rhythms of the music filled the crowded nightclub, the bass thumping through the floor and vibrating in Y/N's chest as she carefully navigated her way back to the booth where her friends were waiting. In her hands, she balanced a tray laden with six colorful cocktails, each one adorned with a tiny umbrella and a slice of fruit.

Y/N couldn't help but smile at the sight of her five best friends, all dressed to the nines and ready for a night of fun and laughter. She shimmied into the booth, sliding in next to Raven, her closest confidante.

"Ladies, I present to you six drinks for six beautiful women," Y/N announced, her voice rising above the din of the club. She passed out the cocktails, each one met with a chorus of excited cheers and appreciative nods.

The women wasted no time in downing their drinks, the sweet, fruity flavors masking the potent alcohol within. As they finished, they let out exaggerated gasps and howls of delight, the alcohol already beginning to work its magic and loosen their inhibitions.

Raven leaned in close to Y/N, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "So, see anyone you like?" she drawled out, her voice low and conspiratorial.

Y/N surveyed the dance floor, her gaze roving over the writhing bodies and the flashing lights. She had to admit, there were plenty of attractive men in the club tonight, their bodies moving in perfect sync with the pulsing beat.

"A few," she admitted, a sly smile playing on her lips. "But no one interesting enough to take home, that's for sure."

Raven giggled at Y/N's response, her laughter infectious and carefree. She scanned the room herself, her eyes suddenly widening as she spotted someone across the way.

"Well, I see one eyeing you up over there," she said, pointing discreetly in the direction of the bar.

Y/N followed Raven's finger, her gaze landing on a devastatingly handsome man with curly black hair and a chiseled jawline. He was leaning against the bar, his back pressed against the polished wood, and his eyes were locked on Y/N, a smoldering intensity in his gaze.

Y/N felt a flush of heat rush through her body as she met his stare, her heart skipping a beat in her chest. She raised her hand in a small wave, a coy smile playing on her lips.

But even as she flirted with the stranger across the room, Y/N couldn't shake the nagging feeling of guilt that tugged at the back of her mind. She thought of Quinn and the uncertain status of their relationship.

"I don't know, Raven," she said, her voice tinged with hesitation. "I haven't ended things with Quinn yet. It would feel wrong to pursue someone else."

A collective groan sounded from the table, as her friends all chimed in with their opinions.

"Girl, you're single. Do what you want," one said, her voice firm and encouraging.

"Quinn's not here tonight. What he doesn't know won't hurt him," another added, her tone mischievous and daring.

Y/N bit her lip, torn between her desire to let loose and have fun and her loyalty to the man she cared for.

She knew things with Quinn were complicated, that he had been distant and evasive in recent days. But still, the thought of betraying his trust, even in a moment of drunken weakness, made her stomach churn.

As she sat there, surrounded by the pulsing energy of the club and the encouraging words of her friends, Y/N knew she had a decision to make. She could play it safe, go home alone and wait for Quinn to come around. Or she could take a chance, let herself get swept up in the moment and see where the night might lead her.

With a deep breath and a final glance at the handsome stranger across the room, Y/N made her choice.

…

The heat of the crowded dance floor was almost unbearable as Y/N swayed to the pulsing beat, her body moving in perfect sync with the mysterious man from the bar. His hands were on her hips, his touch searing through the thin fabric of her dress and setting her skin ablaze.

The dance floor was a sea of moving bodies, gyrating and swaying to the music as the multicolored lights flashed and swirled overhead, casting a kaleidoscope of hues across the sweat-slicked skin of the dancers.

Y/N felt the heat rising from the packed bodies around her, the air thick with the scent of perfume, alcohol, and pheromones. She moved in perfect rhythm with the mysterious man from the bar, their bodies impossibly close as they lost themselves in the primal, sensual flow of the music.

His hands roamed over her curves, his touch both electrifying and possessive as he pulled her flush against his muscular frame. Y/N could feel the hard planes of his chest pressing against her back, his hips grinding against hers in a way that sent shivers of desire racing down her spine.

Clinking glasses and raucous laughter from the nearby bar mixed with the pounding bass, creating a heady cocktail of sensory overload.

Y/N felt dizzy with the rush of it all, her head spinning from the alcohol and the intoxicating presence of the man behind her. As the song reached its crescendo, he leaned in close, his hot breath tickling the sensitive skin of her neck as he mumbled something in her ear, his words almost lost in the pounding music.

Y/N turned in his hold, pressing her back against his chest and feigning ignorance. "Sorry, the music is really loud. I can't hear you," she shouted over the din, a coy smile playing on her lips.

She felt his chest rumble with laughter, the vibrations sending shivers down her spine. He tightened his grip on her arm, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them.

"I said, come home with me," he repeated, his voice low and husky, filled with unmistakable desire. Y/N's heart raced at his bold suggestion. She knew she should say no, that leaving with a stranger was a dangerous game. But the alcohol in her system and the electric chemistry between them made it hard to think straight.

She turned to face him, a playful shrug on her shoulders. "I can't leave my friends alone tonight," she said, her voice apologetic. "But how about I give you my number instead?"

The man's face hardened, a flash of annoyance crossing his features. He scoffed, as if offended by her suggestion, and shook his head in disbelief.

"Fine," he said, his tone clipped as he extended his phone towards her. "Put it in."

Y/N took the device, her fingers trembling slightly as she typed in a fake number, purposely transposing the digits. She couldn't risk giving him her real contact information, not when she was still unsure of her feelings for Quinn.

She handed the phone back and fixed him with a stern look. "Now, shut up and dance," she said, her voice firm and unyielding. The man's eyes narrowed, a flicker of anger burning in their depths. He grabbed her wrist, his grip tight and possessive.

"You think you can just tease me like that and walk away?" he growled, his face inches from hers. "I don't take kindly to being led on." Y/N's heart hammered in her chest, fear and adrenaline coursing through her veins. She tried to pull away, but his hold was too strong.

"Let go of me," she said, her voice shaking with a mix of anger and fear. "I don't owe you anything."

Around them, the other dancers continued to move, oblivious to the drama unfolding in their midst. Y/N's friends were nowhere to be seen, lost in the sea of writhing bodies and flashing lights.

The man's grip tightened, his fingers digging into her skin. "No one rejects me!”

With a sudden burst of strength, Y/N wrenched her arm free, stumbling backwards and nearly losing her balance. She turned on her heel, pushing through the crowd as she desperately searched for her friends.

Her heart was racing, her breath coming in short, panicked gasps.

…

Y/N stumbled out of the nightclub, her heart pounding and her head spinning from the encounter. The cool night air hit her skin, providing a momentary relief from the stifling heat of the dance floor.

She leaned against the rough brick wall, her hands shaking as she fumbled with her phone, scrolling through her contacts until she found Quinn's name.

She hesitated for a moment, her thumb hovering over the call button. Things between her and Quinn had been strained lately, and she wasn't sure if he would even answer. But as a wave of nausea washed over her, the severity of the situation hit her, and she knew she needed help.

Y/N pressed the button, holding the phone to her ear as she tried to steady her breathing. The line rang once, twice, and then a third time before Quinn's voice finally filled her ear.

"Hello?" he answered, the sound of music and laughter echoing in the background.

"Quinn," Y/N said, her voice trembling. "I... I need you."

There was a pause on the other end of the line, and for a moment, Y/N feared he would hang up on her. But then Quinn's voice returned, this time laced with concern.

"Y/N? What's wrong? Where are you?"

She took a shuddering breath, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I'm at Taipei," she said, her words coming out in a rush. "I... I was dancing with this guy, and he... he tried to... I don't know, I just... I need you to come get me. Please."

There was another pause, and Y/N could hear the sound of Quinn moving, the background noise fading as he stepped away from wherever he was. "I'm on my way," he said, his voice firm and reassuring. "Stay where you are, okay? I'll be there as soon as I can."

Y/N nodded, even though she knew he couldn't see her. "Okay," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the sound of her own heartbeat.

As the call ended, Y/N slid down the wall, hugging her knees to her chest as the tears finally spilled over. She felt sick to her stomach.

…

"Y/N!"

She looked up, her vision blurry with tears, to see Quinn running towards her, his face etched with worry. He dropped to his knees beside her, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame.

"I'm here," he murmured, his voice soft and soothing.

Y/N clung to him, burying her face in his chest as the emotions she had been holding back finally broke free. She sobbed openly, her body shaking with the force of her tears as Quinn held her close, his hands rubbing gentle circles on her back.

Y/N's voice trembled as she spoke, her words laced with a mixture of sadness and desperation. "What have you been doing? It's been days, Quinn. Days without a single word from you."

Quinn froze, caught off guard by her sudden questioning. He stumbled over his words, trying to find the right response. "I... I've been busy, Y/N. You know how it is."

She shook her head, tears streaming down her face. "No, I don't know how it is. You don't want to talk to me? Is that what this is?" Her voice cracked, the pain in her heart spilling out into her words. "I don't want to do this with you anymore if you don't want to be with me eventually, Quinn. I can't keep going on like this."

Quinn reached out to her, his eyes pleading. "Y/N, please. Let's not do this now. We'll talk in the morning, okay? When we've both had a chance to clear our mind, and we’re home in bed."

But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions any longer. She looked at him, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the affection she so desperately craved. "Do you feel anything for me, Quinn? Even just a little?"

He sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. "Of course I do Y/N..."

"Please," she begged, her voice barely above a whisper. "Just be honest with me then. Am I not good enough? Is that why you've been pulling away?"

Quinn's heart ached at the sight of her pain, but he couldn't find the words to comfort her. He knew that his own doubts and fears had been holding him back, preventing him from fully committing to their relationship.

"It's not that, Y/N. It's just... complicated."

She let out a bitter laugh, the sound cutting through the cool night air. "Complicated. Right. That's what it always is with you, isn't it?"

Y/N wrapped her arms around herself, suddenly feeling incredibly small and vulnerable. She looked up at the sky, the stars blurring together through her tears. "I can't keep doing this, Quinn. I can't keep going on dates and sleeping with you, only to be pushed away. It hurts too much."

Quinn's voice wavered as he spoke, his words laced with a deep, aching sadness. "Y/N, please just let me explain at a better time."

But Y/N couldn't hold back the flood of emotions that threatened to consume her. She looked at him, her eyes shimmering with tears that refused to fall.

"If I could go back to the night we met, I would never have agreed to this," she whispered, her voice barely audible over the pounding of her own heart. "You make me feel so loved and like you care about me, then you ignore me when I say anything that sounds like I care about you."

The night seemed to grow colder around them, the stars fading into the inky blackness of the sky.

Quinn took a step towards her, his hand outstretched. "I don't mean to hurt you. At all," he said, his voice cracking with emotion.

"What I want is complicated, Y/N. You're so good to me. If I allowed myself to ruin it, I would never forgive myself." Quinn felt his own heart constrict, the depth of her pain hitting him like a physical blow.

Y/N shook her head, a single tear finally escaping and rolling down her cheek. "But don't you see? You're already ruining it. By pushing me away, by refusing to let yourself feel what I know is there."

He wanted so badly to take her in his arms, to promise her that everything would be okay. But he knew that he couldn't make that promise, not when he was still so unsure of his own heart.

Y/N's shoulders shook with silent sobs, her arms wrapped tightly around herself as if to hold the pieces of her shattered heart together. "I don't need you to be perfect, Quinn. I just need you to be honest with me. To stop running away from what we both know is true."

She turned to walk away, Quinn reached out and grabbed her hand. With a gentle tug, he pulled her into his chest, his arms instinctively wrapping around her trembling frame. Y/N's breath caught in her throat as Quinn's lips brushed against her forehead.

Quinn inhaled deeply, breathing in the familiar scent of her hair, the warmth of her body against his own. Before Y/N had a chance to protest, to pull away from his embrace, Quinn gently guided her towards his car.

He opened the passenger side door, his hand resting on the small of her back as he helped her inside. With a tender touch, he reached over and clipped her seatbelt, his fingers lingering on the soft skin of her neck for just a moment longer than necessary.

As Quinn slid into the driver's seat, he could feel the weight of Y/N's gaze on him but he couldn't find the words to reassure her, couldn't find the courage to voice the depths of his own feelings.

Instead, he put the car in drive, the engine humming to life as they pulled away from the curb. Y/N turned her head towards the window, her eyes fixed on the expanse of the city that stretched out before them. Tears slipped silently down her cheeks, the glittering lights of the skyline blurring together through her watery vision.

The drive was silent, the only sound the steady thrum of the engine and the distant wail of sirens in the night. Quinn's hands gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles white with tension as he navigated the familiar streets that led to Y/N's home.

The sight of her own front door, the promise of solitude and comfort, was a balm to her aching heart. Quinn cut the engine, the sudden silence deafening in the confines of the car.

He moved quickly, exiting the driver's side and rounding the front of the car to open Y/N's door. She stumbled slightly as she stepped out, her legs unsteady beneath her. Quinn's hand found the small of her back once more, his touch a gentle guide as they walked together towards her front door.

With a sense of déjà vu, Quinn reached into his pocket and pulled out the spare key Y/N had given him months ago, he slid the key into the lock, the click of the tumblers echoing loudly in the stillness of the night.

As the door swung open, Y/N stepped inside, the familiar scent of home enveloping her like a warm embrace. She turned to face Quinn, her eyes searching his face for any sign of the love and affection she so desperately craved.

But his expression was unreadable, his own emotions carefully guarded behind a mask of stoic resolve.

…

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@poppysbestie

[lovers-rck]

little secret | abby anderson x reader.

summary abby anderson likes to read, and you like abby anderson. | friends to lovers, +18.

okay.... this is the longest fic i ever written (i think)

enjoy

but before, help palestine with one click.

☆

You met her in winter. The immensity of the stadium they called home impressed you, a reconstructed civilization within an abnormality hard to ignore.

Even though she was the most respected soldier in the place, your memory ranks her welcome as the warmest. Between fluffy sweaters and worn leather jackets, Abby showed you a warmth that made Seattle's monstrous winter seem like a light summer breeze.

In addition to showing you the place where you would now live, immense and so functional it was frightening, Abby showed you more than the visible. As time passed, shyly, Abby took her time to show you her jokes, her favorite books, (of which there were many, you decided) her strange ways of combining food to kill hunger longer, her wounds; the internal and the external.

The personal library that Abby had begun to assemble when she arrived at W.L.F. was now familiar to you. When responsibilities left and the moon was present in the atmosphere, the two of you spent the night in that place. The bookshelves acted like skyscrapers over your bodies sitting on the floor, filled with books and comics that the W.L.F. soldiers encountered on their daily patrols.

"I think they're going to end up together" Abby mutters, her nose buried between the pages of an old red-covered book.

"You said the same thing about the other book last night" You replied. Youdidn't share the same passion for reading as Abby, but you enjoyed listening to her tell you about her new readings and her theories about what might or might not happen in those pages.

You liked that contrast with the soldier Abby, the one everyone knew, and the Abby you knew. During the day her posture was steady, stone-eyed and scrutinizing every movement nature had to offer, attentive and ready to pull the trigger at any danger, but when night fell, her posture changed completely; usually hunched over, her features softer, more relaxed.

"It's not my fault that everyone writes the same thing" Abby rolled her eyes, putting the book aside but not before folding a corner of the page, marking where it was left "I guess it was a popular idea back in the day"

"You should write a book."

Abby let out a groan, leaning back against the bookshelf behind her. The two of you were sitting on the floor, facing each other, separated by a pile of books scattered on the library's newest acquisition: a worn purple carpet.

"I'm not in the mood for jokes" Abby blurted out.

"Why?" you asked "It wasn't a joke anyway"

"Because of Manny. He was out of control today during patrol. He almost got us killed"

You rolled your eyes "You know what he's like" Abby massaged her shoulder absently, you could see her muscles twitch "I'm sure it was nothing, you just can't stand it when people don't follow your orders"

she looked at you, her eyebrows raised "Excuse me?"

Ypu laughed lightly "It's true. You're a serial controller."

"I'm not a serial controller, for your information" Abby said "It's just not a place for jokes"

"If you say..." you mumbled, pulling your knees up to your chest and dropping the conversation; knowing Abby, she would never admit it.

"What?"

You shrugged, smiling graciously at Abby's accusatory look "I didn't say anything."

"You don't believe me" Abby scrutinized you with her gaze.

You shook your head "I didn't say that".

"But you thought it"

You rolled your eyes "Now you're a mind reader? I can see why you're considered the best soldier ever"

"There's nothing wrong with being controlling, Abs. That's the way you get everything you want. Everything you have" you continued.

Abby let out a sigh, her chest heaving, "Yeah, whatever"

The room fell into a deep silence for a couple of minutes. You decided to grab a book, trying to read it and make some sense of the words, but Abby's gaze on you prevented your brain from synapses.

"What?" you said in an accusatory tone, resting the book in your lap and looking at that blonde girl.

Now it was Abby's turn to shrug, a slight smirk planted on her face "I didn't say anything"

"Whatever."

Abby considered picking up her book as well, but saw no point in seeing the very predictable ending that the last few pages held. Your words were still echoing in her head; everything she wanted.

She, in fact, didn't have everything she wanted. Abby thought she lacked a handful of essentials; a reasonable sleep schedule, a meal that with all the proteins, a partner who wasn't a complete idiot on patrol.

But hey, those were luxuries given the circumstances.

To no one's surprise, you caught Abby's attention from the very first moment. She remembers with tenderness the first time she saw you, wet and covered with blood, hidden among the large leaves of a strange plant that had been born thanks to the combination of vegetation and fungus, with a look that Abby would never forget.

She felt the need to protect you, not because she considered you weak, but because a strange feeling led her to position herself in front of you when in the patrols you heard some infected too close, or that time when a Seraphite appeared unexpectedly and hurted you, and Abby kept chasing Mel through the corridors to remind her to be extremely careful with you.

"I know what I'm doing, Abby" she remembered how Mel told her one night "She's going to be fine"

Abby tried to convince herself that it was just that she had grown too attached to you, but something inside her told her it was something more than that, something deeper, more intense.

Abby thought she lacked a handful of things that were essential to her life, like you.

"You know, you read too many romance books" you said, snapping Abby out of her thoughts "Are you in love, Anderson?"

"Oh my god" Abby muttered "You should go to sleep, the lack of it is affecting your reasoning."

"So, is that a yes?"

"I don't choose what to read" Abby replied "I don't know if you noticed, but we're in an apocalypse. I don't have too many genres to choose from."

"You still haven't answered my question!"

Abby's muscles tensed as she could see how you moved from your position and sat closer to her, next to her. Abby could feel your arm brush against hers.

"So..." You murmured, your breath hitting Abby's lips "Tell me your little secret."

"My little secret?" Abby murmured, forcing herself to look only into your eyes.

"Who do you like?" And Abby snorted, rolling her eyes "Is it Nora? I've seen you two together a lot recently."

"No, wait, i know. It's mel, isn't it?" You continued. Your knee bumped into Abby's thigh.

"I'm not in love with Nora, or Mel, dumbass. They're my friends."

You emitted silence for a few seconds, and then:

"Is it Manny?"

"Are you kidding me?" Abby replied with a tone that made you burst out laughing, combined with all those laughs written on worn pages

"I'm sorry. I had to say it" you said with a chuckle.

Abby shook her head slowly, a smile planting itself on her face. Fucking Manny, she thought.

"So?" You said after a few minutes. Abby looked at you, her blue sapphires piercing your gaze. "Who is it?" You muttered, your voice coming out weaker than intended.

Siddenly the library became the quietest place in that giant structure. Every whisper, every sigh felt too aggressive, too loud; something that threatened to break the intimacy that the proximity of your bodies had created.

Abby slowly denied with her head, closing her eyes for a second. When she opened them again, something had changed in her gaze.

"You're not going to tell me?" You whispered. Your hand rested close to Abby's. At some point, you doubted whether your bones had turned to magnet and Abby's to metal because of the way a supernatural force was compelling you to be close to her.

She denied again, but the way her eyes flicked to your mouth for a microsecond gave her away.

"It's okay" you whispered "I think I have an idea."

The first time you saw her, that winter, you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips constantly. It didn't seem odd to you, as the winter in Seattle was very dry and lip balm was not something they were equipped with at the W.L.F, but as time went on you noticed that Abby had a tendency to lick her lips only when she was with you; when you pretended you didn't know she was looking at you, when you got close to her face to apply a lipstick you found in one of the patrolling days, when you gave her a kiss on the cheek on the morning of her birthday.

And now, just before your lips meet hers.

For the first few seconds neither of you move. Your lips linger on hers shyly, too terrified to move but refusing to pull away. Abby has to muster all her strength to move her hand to your jaw, holding you, and suddenly every shred of fear leaves her.

Your lips instantly reciprocate, too hungry, too thirsty for her taste. Abby thinks that now that she finally knows what it feels like to kiss you, she fears not being able to stop.

Her hand, which initially started on your cheek, travels down your body to your waist squeezing the flesh viciously. Her fingerprints savor every touch your body provides, skin that has been reserved for so long just for her enjoyment.

When Abby's hand makes contact with the exposed portion of skin, the air circulating through the stadium feels insufficient. Your body takes on an inhuman heat, a heat worthy of the iron emanating from the gates to hell, a heat that only she can cease.

"Abby" your lips release, a strangled moan.

"I know" She replies.

Your body was now a mass that Abby could mold as she wished. She is overcome with a sweeping euphoria as she becomes aware of the control your body offers her, and thinks maybe you were right; she likes to be in control.

You try to keep up with her movements. You touch her skin, her arms, afraid to ruin the pattern of freckles that rest perfectly on her rosy shoulders.

In a matter of seconds you end up on her lap, your legs hugging her thighs, clinging to the new sensation that Abby's shyness deprived you of for so long. Between kisses, you can hear the moans the blonde's mouth emits, weak but guttural moans.

"Can I..." Abby murmurs, her mouth on top of yours "Can I touch you?"

Your throat fails to find the strength to elicit a sound, so you just nod, eager for anything that comes from her. Instantly you feel Abby's fingers undoing your belt and unbuttoning the button of your pants, but just as you're ready for the next thing, Abby's fingers linger in place.

"What's wrong?" you ask, strands of hair interrupting your vision. Your hair feels so tousled "You don't have to if you don't want to Abs."

Abby shakes her head, her eyes drift to her hands lying in your lap, fiddling with the button "It's nothing" she murmurs "It's just.... It's been a while, you know?"

And you understand. Your fingers stroke the backs of Abby's arms.

"I understand. You don't have to be nervous" you say, trying to get her to look at you "It's just us."

Abby nods. She looks at your abdomen, the way your t-shirt hugs your waist.

"If it makes you feel any better, I never did this" you whisper, and that's all it takes for Abby to look at you.

"Never?"

you deny "Never"

"What about the redheaded girl last month? You told me things happened."

You stifle a laugh, embarrassed. Now it's your turn to look away from Abby and focus on the pattern on her shirt.

"It was stupid. We didn't do anything, it scared me" you can feel her tuck an unruly lock behind your ear, her fingertips caressing your face "It was just a silly kiss."

Abby nods slowly, her gaze still on you "Okay. Okay."

Behind the library doors, women and children walk the halls, leaders give orders and soldiers disappear behind the massive doors while others return from adventures. The world is functional again.

"Do you think it's stupid?" you mutter.

"What? No" Abby denies "It's not stupid. It's fine. Besides, it's not like we have a lot of time for that kind of thing around here"

Your lips let out a chuckle. "Yeah, that's true."

Your eyes match Abby's gaze, who smiles slightly. Her smile is sweet, friendly, you can feel the warmth that is so characteristic of her, nestling between the corners of her mouth

This time she starts the kiss. This time it is calmer, less desperate, but just as passionate. Her fingers return to what concerns them, and navigate between your pants and the elastic of your underwear.

Her fingers are cold, so you stir in her lap at the sensation and Abby laughs, apologizing softly. You quickly forget about the sharp change in temperature because you have Abby where you want her most.

Even though it's been a long time since the last time, Abby is quick to pull your panties to the side and find a rhythm that has you moaning in seconds. Your lips break the kiss several times, moans seeking air and space to make themselves present.

"Is this okay?" Abby murmurs into your neck, wet kisses planting themselves on your skin.

Your hips move against her hand, desperate "Yes Abs" the hot air of your breath hits against her ear, and Abby almost lets out the most obscene sound ever uttered "Please, keep going."

Abby's free hand massages your breasts, squeezes and fondles them. Her tongue plays with the sensitive skin of your neck, sucking and marking every inch.

The euphoria and pleasure of the moment makes you feel invincible, and your hand darts toward Abby's pants, unzipping them and finding her black boxers.

"What are you doing?" Abby says, choked words.

You ignore her and continue your task, reaching inside her underwear and trying to mimic the move you do to yourself on nights where your body lies too warm on the sheets of some room at the W.L.F. Your movements are clumsy, but they work wonders for Abby, who stifles her moans into your neck.

As her nature defines her, Abby is a competitive girl in every way, so when she feels an immense heat who tries to collapse her under your effects, her fingers pick up the pace and pull desperate moans from your throat.

There was no way Abby would finish before you.

"Abby" you moan, your fingers losing rhythm "Abby"

"I know."

It doesn't take too many seconds before your body shudders under Abby's control and moans and groans come out of your mouth, which you choke on her shoulder.

Pleasure blurs your vision and senses, so you can't anticipate when a trembling, whimpering Abby pulls your hand from her intimacy and her muscles contract accompanied by a long, shuddering moan.

You and her breathing evens out, both of your breasts moving to the rhythm of the beat that is their hearts tuned to the same station.

You look at her. She looks at you.

Abby thinks this ending is better than any book she's ever read.

[floorsforless1]

Floors For Less is your go-to destination for premium flooring solutions in Madison. As the Best Flooring Company in Madison, we offer a diverse range of options to fit your needs. Our team of professionals is dedicated to helping you find the perfect flooring for your home or business.

[novlr]

how to describe? Houses, rooms, interiors, palaces, etc?

Creating immersive descriptions of indoor spaces is more than just scene setting—it’s an invitation to the reader to step into your world. Describing the interior of buildings with vivid detail can draw readers into your narrative. So let’s explore how to describe interiors using multiple sensory experiences and contexts.

Sights

Lighting: soft glow of lamps, harsh fluorescent lights, or natural light.

Colour and textures; peeling paint, plush velvet, or sleek marble.

Size and scale: is it claustrophobically small or impressively grand?

Architectural features: high ceilings, crown mouldings, or exposed beams.

Furnishings: are they modern, sparse, antique, or cluttered?

Style and decor: what style is represented, and how does it affect the atmosphere?

State of repair: is the space well-kept, neglected, or under renovation?

Perspective and layout: how do spaces flow into each other?

Unique design features: describe sculptural elements, or things that stand out.

Spatial relationships: describe how objects are arranged—what’s next to, across from, or underneath something else?

Sounds

Describe echoes in large spaces or the muffled quality of sound in carpeted or furnished rooms.

Note background noises; is there a persistent hum of an air conditioner, or the tick of a clock?

Describe the sound of footsteps; do they click, scuff, or are they inaudible?

Include voices; are they loud and echoing or soft and absorbed?

Is there music? Is it piped in, coming from a live source, or perhaps drifting in from outside?

Capture the sounds of activity; typing, machinery, kitchen noises, etc.

Describe natural sounds; birds outside the window, or the rustle of trees.

Consider sound dynamics; is the space acoustically lively or deadened?

Include unexpected noises that might be unique to the building.

Consider silence as a sound quality. What does the absence of noise convey?

Smells

Identify cleaning products or air fresheners. Do they create a sterile or inviting smell?

Describe cooking smells if near a kitchen; can you identify specific foods?

Mention natural scents; does the room smell of wood, plants, or stone?

Are there musty or stale smells in less ventilated spaces?

Note the smell of new materials; fresh paint, new carpet, or upholstery.

Point out if there’s an absence of smell, which can be as notable as a powerful scent.

Consider personal scents; perfume, sweat, or the hint of someone’s presence.

Include scents from outside that find their way in; ocean air, city smells, etc.

Use metaphors and similes to relate unfamiliar smells to common experiences.

Describe intensity and layering of scents; is there a primary scent supported by subtler ones?

Activities

Describe people’s actions; are they relaxing, working, hurried, or leisurely?

Does the space have a traditional use? What do people come there to do?

Note mechanical activity; elevators moving, printers printing, etc.

Include interactions; are people talking, arguing, or collaborating?

Mention solitary activities; someone reading, writing, or involved in a hobby.

Capture movements; are there servers bustling about, or a janitor sweeping?

Observe routines and rituals; opening blinds in the morning, locking doors at night.

Include energetic activities; perhaps children playing or a bustling trade floor.

Note restful moments; spaces where people come to unwind or reflect.

Describe cultural or community activities that might be unique to the space.

Decorative style

Describe the overall style; is it minimalist, baroque, industrial, or something else?

Note period influences; does the decor reflect a specific era or design movement?

Include colour schemes and how they play with or against each other.

Mention patterns; on wallpaper, upholstery, or tiles.

Describe textural contrasts; rough against smooth, shiny against matte.

Observe symmetry or asymmetry in design.

Note the presence of signature pieces; a chandelier, an antique desk, or a modern art installation.

Mention thematic elements; nautical, floral, astronomical, etc.

Describe homemade or bespoke items that add character.

Include repetitive elements; motifs that appear throughout the space.

History

Mention historical usage; was the building repurposed, and does it keep its original function?

Describe architectural time periods; identify features that pinpoint the era of construction.

Note changes over time; upgrades, downgrades, or restorations.

Include historical events that took place within or affected the building.

Mention local or regional history that influenced the building’s design or function.

Describe preservation efforts; are there plaques, restored areas, or visible signs of aging?

[billielolly]

Sims 3 Build - Colonial Suburban

A colonial-inspired suburban home perfect for a large family. With a conservatory, study, large kitchen and dedicated dining space, and room for hobbies - this house truly has it all. 5 bedrooms and 4 bathrooms on a 20x30 lot.

Watch the speed build: https://youtu.be/40XE8ke44K0

Download here:

Patreon (free): https://www.patreon.com/posts/104155906/

Exchange: https://www.thesims3.com/assetDetail.html?assetId=9592239

Expansion packs:

Generations

Pets

Ambitions

Late Night

Supernatural

Seasons

University Life

Stuff packs:

Outdoor Living Stuff

Master Suite Stuff

Store content:

Stones Throw Greenhouse (Greenhouse Window)

Business as Usual Bistro (Professional Series Commercial Sink)

Custom content:

Qahne - Garage Door on Five

Gosik - Cottage Half Landing Stairs

Cakenoodles - 13Pumpkin Rustic Wood Floor

PralineSims - Natural Bricks 2

PralineSims - Fine Wicker

PralineSims - Classic Carpet

Lulu265 - Eclectic Living Room Coffee Table

ATS3 - Tam-Tam Bedroom Desk

Onyxium - Fultondale Wide Cabinet With Two Drawer and Two Door

ArtVitalex - Kiester Mirror

Lulu265 - Lily Dining Mirror

Lulu265 - Lily Dining Painting Set

Lulu265 - Kitchen Expressions Wall Paintings

Lulu265 - Bedford Bedroom Wall Art

kardofe - Dining Room HAY Pictures

ArtVitalex - Richie Painting

deeiutza - Cottage Reading Corner Books

Martassimsbook - Ars-botanica Cup of Pansies

Martassimsbook - Cowbuild Dahlia and Delpinium Vases

NynaeveDesign - Harmony Lounge Philodendron

Mutske - Plant Palm Large

sim_man123 - Emerson Ficus Tree

Martassimsbook - novvvas Planties pt3 (Ficus Lyrata V1, Ficus Elastica, Monstera Deliciosa)

jomsims - n1 Plant Sonics Living

Mutske - Kitchen Aria Cookerhood

Lulu265 - Country Kitchen Letter Holder

ATS3 - Canister

Gosik - Kobe Bathroom Towels 1

Gosik - Kobe Bathroom Towels 2

[terrence-silver]

You know the night in CK in S5 where Terry gets his home invaded, could you rewrite the night but with a heavily pregnant beloved?

The Honorable Thing To Do.

Mike Barnes, Johnny Lawrence, Chozen Toguchi (POV) and the non-shippy presence of Reader!Beloved x Terry Silver (Only Mentioned).

Inspired by this post.

―

-"Man, this asshole has more statues than a Vegas casino."-

Johnny Lawrence remarks stumbling through the main pathway of a vast estate comprised of an immaculate trimmed green lawn that resembled a carpet fenced in from all sides by tall, palatial walls and an unusual amount of marble figures dotting the grassy spaciousness of the garden that followed them along the eternity of the grounds, casting long, dark shadows in the cover of night — pillars of carved, pale stone illuminated by a faint moonlight, vines coiling around ankles and wrists, growing in the crevices and curves of sharp, stony edges, seeming like they were deliberately allowed to grow there by a skilled, devoted gardener instead of being old, mossy and unkempt. It was sleek.

A clearly new addition to the fortress of the dragon.

It was quiet, too quiet, as they snuck in, or at least tried to, somehow, in their inebriated state, the sound of their footsteps along the tiled pavement echoed back as uncharacteristically loud in his ears. What struck Chozen the most, he supposed, that they were all chiseled images of women made out of white granite and that the enemy’s domain, well, it was undeniably beautiful, all palm trees, perfectly kept magnolia bushes, decorative rocks, vines and a sleek, colossal front door in front of them, made from what seemed like polished, pitch black Oak. This was it. End of the line. Mike Barnes wordlessly lifts his leg on instinct, intending to crash through with a kick only to be stopped by a slurring Johnny. One too many drinks tonight. No good. The feeling here wasn’t good either. Not what Chozen expected it to be going in. Too serene. Too lulling. Like the quiet before the storm. Like an ambush. A trap on the enemy's own turf and territory. Chozen carefully leans against the surface of the mansion’s entrance, intent on listening. Trying to catch a sound from the great indoors. Complete and utter quietude. He’d almost prefer it if he’d catch the sound of something. Anything. -"No, no, no. That looks heavy as shit. You’ll break your foot."- Johnny chastises, shoving Mike out of the way, getting into a stance of his own instead. -"I’ll do it."- He offers blatantly, and no, not smart, Chozen concludes. They weren't smart right now. They were drunk. Not drunk enough to not be aware they were drunk. Last thing they needed was to trigger whatever hidden alarm system this manor had in place by breaking down the front door and causing enough noise to wake up half of the city. For a man of this much abundance to leave his home unattended, it just wasn’t feasible, but to his surprise, the palm of his hand resting on the dark wood moves and the door slides ajar along with it.

Unlocked?

And no one at home?

Why?

If it the questions didn’t compound skyhigh by then, they’d certainly tumble over right there and then, like a tower made out of cards.

He leads the way, figuring someone had to, and he gestures, ushering the two men behind him into the darkness, minding his steps trying to keep their balance along the surface of the floor that blurred and narrowed through the haziness of his eyesight, causing him to stumbling into what seemed like an open, marble floor lobby descending into small winding corridors, somewhat labyrinthian in nature, if memory served from his last visit here. Many rooms. Many cameras. Many hidden places. Many weapons, Chozen reminds himself, nearly jumping if only due to a momentary distraction, fingers squeezed into fists on the ready, long shadows cast by the reflection of the lobby’s mirrors concealing the silhouette of a person, standing in the doorway quietly. Not large enough to be Silver himself, but nonetheless, a somebody. His intuition told him it was too silent on premises; that something about that was innately suspicious, and as if on cue, Lawrence’s reaction is the loudest, breaking through the noiselessness of the hall, cutting like a knife, putting all three of them on immediate alert and the shadow shaped like a person stirs and moves, head and shoulders perfectly sharp in outlines against the light  coming in from the garden, the body shapeless, a black blur in the murky dimness of the entrance foyer. The face? Concealed and pitch black. Seemingly almost entirely featureless, save for the tip of tip of a nose. The outline of a mouth. Someone who deliberately avoided moving to, in equal measure, avoid detection. -"Holy shit!"- Johnny yelps, staggering forward, eyes squinty, like he was trying to make out the details in front of him and failing to do so with precision, only for his nostrils to widen with surprise, leaving Chozen to stare back and forth between him and the blackness at the edge of the immense atrium. -"What’s this? Molly Ringwald in ‘For Keeps’ meets the Poltergeist or some shit?"- Johnny stutters and the confusion deepens, swirling, the reference an unknown, and quickly rendered irrelevant once Chozen catches the outline of a hand on a torso traveling lower, landing on what he recognized as a belly. The airflow of breath hitches in his throat. There was nobody here but a woman in a wide nightgown, halfway embracing herself for comfort, in an obvious bout of anxiety judging by her body language.

Someone terrified of them and trying not to show it.

-"I’ll call the police."-

She says, trying for an obvious air of firmness in an attempt to intimidate them, but her voice coming through shaky. Scared. Her demand unintentionally relayed more as a plea, less like a threat. The needle of instant regret is there, looming, pinching something inside of Chozen, digging beneath layers of skin.

Hostage?

No, no. Something else. A hostage would immediately run over, pleading for help.

Begging to be rescued.

-"He keeping you here by force or something!? Okay, where’s the cameras?"- 

Johnny bombastically voices his exact concerns, spewing fire, staring daggers at the corners of the walls looking for blinking red lights watching them from some hidden security room, practically spitting his words and Mike brushes past him, ever the irritant, nearly crashing into him, unfettered, voice gruff and unimpressed, his footsteps loud, wide and booming. Impatient. Determined. Like he intended to demolish the place just for the sake of doing so, irregardless if the owner was present to see it or not, perhaps precisely because he wasn't present to see it or even stop it, giving him no fighting chance, intending to strike from the back, unexpected, kicking below the belt. Aggrieved former student. Lots of anger. He leads the way, practically charging as he ranted in stride, marching deeper into the foyer.

-"I know this guy’s tricks and he’s full of them! A subversion. To distract us. Don’t fall for it! He did worse crap for far less! But, this one’s really bottom of the barrel! Lets go!"-

The needle presses on invisibly and Chozen reaches forward, running after Barnes before he could do something bad, grabbing his forearm, stopping him. Dragging him back. The garden light illuminated by solar pipes and flares casts a ray of distant, pale brightness on the human shaped silhouette in front of them, and all Chozen sees is dignity veiled by fear, frozen in place. This was the shadow’s home and it didn’t intend to flinch, but was nonetheless too frightened and too alone to fight back. This was someone important. To Silver. The hand on the end of its torso guarding someone even more special. -"No."- His demand is final. Simple.

-"His woman."-

He explains hastily, watching Barnes’ face grow from a mask of fury to complete and utter bafflement, like he couldn’t believe what he was hearing, mouth sliding agape, his wrath caught in a stalemate, having nowhere to go or to be channeled, Barnes expresses it by yanking his hand free and pacing vigorously, not unlike someone trying to walk off the side effects of their intoxication. Clear their head. This was Terry Silver’s woman and his unborn child they just stumbled upon. Johnny approaches him in the midst of Barnes doing exasperated circles around the room, head thrown back and he looks at Chozen, really looks at him, extending his arm forward, pointing at the person who’s acquaintance they accidentally made. Chozen imagines a baby’s crib, standing in a bedroom. A curtain. Terry Silver looming above it. Watching out into the night. He lied. He lied when they talked about their true ambitions. When Silver said his one regret was not having any children to continue his legacy. It was obvious now. He lied, because he didn't want anyone to know. Not the genuine facts of the matter. Didn't want anyone to jeopardize any of it. When a man starts lying about things in order to hide them, a man's keeping a weakness hidden, willing to do anything and everything to avoid having it be exploited by outside forces. Chozen closes his eyes, contemplating things. Big mistake. Coming here. Huge. -"The guy’s like eighty!"- Johnny shouts, outraged. Sato was eighty too at one point in time and he had entertainers come over at the end of every work week to pour his Sake too. Being old meant nothing. The puzzle pieces, though. They fall into place. Creating a cohesive picture. An understanding. An understanding only confirmed once the face of the person in front of them is partially illuminated from a nearby window and the recognition is near instant. It hits him like a flash of lightning. -"All over the garden."- Chozen attempts to explain, certain he wouldn’t be outright understood anyway that he was trying to tell them that they bypassed this silhouette at least half a dozen times, only in the form of carved marble. Silver had filled the premises of his estate with her likeness. Unbidden, Kumiko comes to mind and all the ways their village used to be plastered with the home made variation of posters whenever she’d perform during celebrations. She too, was loved. By everyone.

-"His woman."-

He carefully points to her and then lower, to the protective shield of her hand and what it was hiding.

At this point, Chozen’s whispering, as if though him speaking could actually disrupt the nap of the unborn in the womb, catching himself doing it, feeling the tipsiness engulf him like a swift tide and finding the gesture silly.

 -"His baby."-  

Johnny scoffs in a mixture of disbelief, drunkenness, snark and the obvious feeling of being entirely at a loss for words, joining an exasperated Mike in their nervous, anger-fueled, partially embarrassed pacing. Sensitive topic? Due to his and Carmen-san’s blessing on the way? They should go. They should go now. You lift up a nearby object from a nearby commode, placing it over your head, defensively; a warning to anyone, that if they step closer, or if they refuse to listen to the given demands, there was a blunt object at hand on the ready, even though, by the looks of you, the rounded, swollen shape of your belly outlining and rounding the edges of your night gown, Chozen was certain you’d attack no one and certainly not three men, calling your bluff. That you couldn’t even if you wanted to, and that grabbing what seemed like a metal, decorative candle holder was simply meant to highlight your horror and desperation and how badly you wanted to be left alone, like a cornered animal bearing its teeth. Your voice squeaks and instinctively, Chozen  lifts his hands up, trying to pacify you. Assure you that he wouldn’t. He wouldn't hurt you and he wouldn't let anyone else hurt you either. He left the path of dishonor behind a long time ago, taking a step back, wanting to disappear as uneventfully as possible, fingers hooking themselves into the seams of Johnny’s sleeve and dragging him back with himself too, once you plead, eyes shimmery in the darkness, brightened by the presence of suppressed tears. Daniel and Amanda-san never told him about the existence woman and they lived here for decades. Did they know at all? -"Please, leave. Please."- You beg, out of breath, standing your ground frozen like a deer caught in the headlights, looking like it hurt to stand as long as you were standing in only your house slippers burdened under the weight of your own belly propped up with one arm. Barnes explodes, lounging forward, impatience and impulsiveness culminating in a roar fire that was harder and harder to put out by the minute, his legs floundering mid-movement. Like mud and water, it wasn't good putting together a drunk, pissed off man who's own family was under fire and the family of the man who did it all. Barnes was out for blood. Smelled it like a clumsy, starved shark.

-"I had enough of this crap! Had a couple of drinks, yeah, okay, but I’m not getting conned like this! Where is he!? What hole did he crawl into!? She could be literally anyone and we’re falling for the oldest trick in the book! You think paying an actor stand-in is beneath him!? Nothing’s beneath him! He’s the father of lies!"-

Chozen’s legs move on their own accord and without him even having the chance to think, and before he knows it, he’s cut off Mike’s way, placing his body in front of him like a barrier and his hand to the man’s chest, letting him go no further. There would be days for revenge. But, it would be not this day. This night. Decades of striving to make things right with one’s soul wouldn’t be lost tonight. Chozen invested too much in his soul to drag it through the gutter all over again. -"No! We’re leaving. Honorable thing to do."- He whispers, head bent, the open palm of his hand never flinching from the surface of Barnes’ chest heaving with irritation and then ultimately, cooling down in the cloud of surrender, brows furrowed like he loathed to be told what to do They came here to deal with Silver, fueled by the euphoria of liquid courage, not antagonize a sobbing, pregnant woman. Barnes' features dropped like he was willing to begrudgingly accept that.

Chozen turns to you, speaking softly. Slowly.

-"Our business not with you."-

He couldn’t tell what you looked like. Not entirely. Not in this lack of light.

But, he swears he spots the wave of relief wash over you through a blur.

He bows with his full body facing forward, bent towards you, feeling it’s the correct gesture, throwing in a tiny smile for good measure, wondering if it'll alleviate the tension in the air. Not come off as mockery. As disingenious. The battle is always between the combatants.  Involving the innocent — makes the battle dirty. Low. Cheapens the victory. Cheapens even the act of participation itself.

Chozen reminded himself that mantra every day for thirty years.

 -"Apologies for intrusion."-

He excuses himself in a clipped manner, lifting his lower body up just as quickly as he paid his respects and Chozen’s out the door, dragging the two fools along with him, giving one last quick bow once his foot stepped over the precipice, his hand closing the door behind him, watching you lower the candelabra, your shoulders suddenly dropping. -"Have a pleasant evening. Gomenasai."- He throws in a final line, speaking Japanese with the conviction that it sounded more sincere and profound than a mere 'Sorry' in English, closing the entrance to the mansion with a loud thud and exhaling, suddenly realizing he’s been keeping his breath for far too long and that Barnes and Lawrence were standing by his side, humbled, eying the door with incredulity, appearing defeated, halfway on the verge of barging back inside, halfway on the verge of questioning what drove them to come here in the first place, the answer being drinks. Mostly the drinks. Terry Silver would come for them for this, Chozen knew, if for any reason, then simply for daring to frighten someone his --- and he paces, walking away from the marble front porch, realizing he needed to be ready. They all needed to be ready. There would be war. For every single tear you cried here tonight. For every bit of stress you suffered. Possibly even the very fact that they saw you and discovered your existence in the first place when it was so obvious now the enemy wanted you hidden. Terry Silver wanted you hidden. -"That’s some bullshit!"- Johnny huffs, protesting catching up with him, Barnes right on his tail, appearing gloomy, eyes dark and distant. The estate grounds open up around them and there they are, marble women with marble eyes, staring into nothing. Lawrence stares at them with suspicion, gaze oscillating between watching the premises lest something came alive and jumped them from the darkness and being in Chozen’s ear, ranting feverishly in a quick stride. Your image surrounds the whole manor. Loved. You must've been very loved. -"I didn’t even know the ponytailed prick had a chick and a bun in the oven!"- Hai. Exactly. Precisely. Treasure’s no longer a treasure if everyone has a key to its keep. If everyone knows where it's buried. Chozen shakes his head, feeling his lips press into a firm line; something inside of him told him there would be consequences for this. A payback. A settling of the scores. And this time around, a lot more than just Barnes’ livelihood would burn and he couldn’t decide if Silver was more dangerous while he seemingly didn’t have who to lose or now that they discovered that he has.

 -"That’s whole point. Not to know."- 

He reaffirms humorlessly, slipping into the night.

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Here's a 2007 contemporary home in Houston, TX that has some stunning architectural features. The 4bd, 5ba home has a moody color palate of mostly gray & black, but it does feature some color. $1,994,900 + $40mo. HOA.

Enter a spacious hall with a sweeping staircase covered in solid black carpet. The floor is black slate throughout and the walls are pale gray accented with dark doors.

To the right is a spacious living room filled with the light a long wall of windows. It has a gray stone fireplace wall and a bar off to the side.

The dining room also has a wall of windows. It can fit a much larger table than a small round one with 8 chairs crowded around it.

Entering the kitchen from the dining room, you first pass thru the butler's pantry.

And, past the wall ovens.

Until you emerge into the kitchen with sleek gray cabinets topped by solid black counters. There's comfortable seating with a lamp in front of the island, then a dining area, and a family room.

And, this area also has lots of windows.

The den has color with its walls of muted tomato shelving.

The principal bedroom is a darker gray and has minimal natural light coming from small square windows set up by the ceiling.

The en-suite features gray cabinetry, dark mosaic tiles, black & white quartz, plus black mirrored glass.

The closet/dressing room is off the bath. Those empty shelves above are for more clothes on hangers- you pull the rod down with the vertical pole. When you're finished, push it back up with the pole.

If you like the Cat in the Hat, you'll love the kid's room.

Another, smaller, bedroom has a built-in seat and dressers.

One of the baths has a nice sink vanity.

The rec room also has a bar.

And, this is the comfy TV room.

The home has an elevator.

Room with a colorful built-in unit.

Black bath where the tiles, fixtures, etc. are all black except for the floor and sink.

The pool is on the upper patio, but this is really part of the parking area down here. 9,120 sq ft lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/5311-Queensloch-Dr-Houston-TX-77096/28066768_zpid/?

99,120 sq ft lot9,120 sq ft lot,120 sq ft l