#rustic stone fire places

[fiverrwasright]

Exterior DC Metro Inspiration for a mid-sized country red two-story wood gable roof remodel

[kpopdevotion]

Patio Pergola in Atlanta

Image of a medium-sized, elegant concrete paver patio in the backyard with a fire pit and a pergola

[notsoniceguys]

Patio Pergola in Atlanta

Image of a medium-sized, elegant concrete paver patio in the backyard with a fire pit and a pergola

[willhops]

Patio Pergola in Atlanta

Image of a medium-sized, elegant concrete paver patio in the backyard with a fire pit and a pergola

[mindthegapnights]

Deck Philadelphia Deck - large rustic backyard deck idea with a fireplace and no cover

[dabblehq]

Patio Pergola in Atlanta

Image of a medium-sized, elegant concrete paver patio in the backyard with a fire pit and a pergola

[piercelong]

Patio Pergola in Atlanta

Image of a medium-sized, elegant concrete paver patio in the backyard with a fire pit and a pergola

[paxaz535]

DOUBLE (DATE) TROUBLE {sequel p2}

reader x azzi x nika x paige

nasty, they fuck every day (on day six is a break) but yeah.

this is the (second to last) part, yall are some nasty gals lmfao

hope u enjoy

Nika was sprawled across the couch in a tank top and boxers, legs parted wide like she owned the furniture and the air you breathed. Her phone was balanced on her chest, lazily scrolling through Airbnb listings while you sat on the floor in front of the coffee table, sipping wine and watching her more than your half-forgotten book.

The group chat had been chaos all afternoon.

Paige: “This one has a hot tub, a fire pit, and no neighbors for miles.”

Azzi: “We’re 100% getting banned.”

Nika: “Good. We’ll leave our mark.”

Paige: “On each other?”

You: “Y’all tryna top last time?”

Azzi: “We never stopped thinking about last time.”

You looked up at Nika. “We need to talk.”

She glanced over the screen, one brow raised. “Talk like ‘don’t go,’ or talk like ‘bring the good lube’?”

You exhaled, fighting the grin. “Talk like… you know what’s gonna happen if we’re all under one roof for a week.”

“You mean: ‘horny chaos.’”

Before you could respond, a knock came at the door. Paige’s voice followed: “We brought tequila and several moral dilemmas!”

You opened the door, letting in Azzi and Paige—hoodies, sweatpants, smugness, and all. Azzi made a beeline for the couch, slipping in beside Nika like she lived there. Paige stayed near you, giving you a once-over before tossing her keys on the counter.

“We should actually talk,” Azzi said, suddenly a little more serious beneath the teasing. “Before we get up to the woods and lose our clothes and common sense.”

You gave her a nod. “Exactly what I was saying.”

“We’re not trying to complicate anything,” Paige added, folding her arms. “You two are solid. So are we. But let’s be real: last time? It almost didn’t matter who was in which room.”

Nika tilted her head. “That’s not a complaint.”

“No,” you agreed, “but it’s a line. And I think we need to draw it—together.”

Azzi looked around, then leaned forward on her knees. “I’m gonna say it. I love Paige. But if I ended up bent over something in front of Nika? With you watching? That’s not a betrayal. That’s a vacation.”

Nika’s smirk stretched slow and sinful. “Could say the same about watching Paige make you come, babe.”

You bit your lip, heart thumping harder. “Okay. So we’re saying… still couples. Emotionally. Day to day. But if it’s sex? In the moment? As long as it’s all of us in it together, we’re allowed to swap.”

Paige looked to Azzi. Azzi nodded.

“Bodies, not hearts,” Paige said firmly. “No sneaking around. No feelings for someone else’s girl. But everything else? Fair game.”

Nika turned to you. “Still mine at the end of the day?”

You nodded, stepping in close. “Always.”

“And still yours when I’m fucking someone else in front of you?”

“Especially then.”

Paige chuckled darkly. “This is gonna be a problem.”

Azzi lifted her tequila bottle in a toast. “Here’s to being greedy little sluts… respectfully.”

Nika clinked her drink against hers. “Consensually chaotic.”

You laughed. “Filthy and fair.”

Paige grinned. “Let the week-long of nastiness commence.”

-

The car doors slammed shut one by one, echoing across the gravel driveway and through the trees. The cabin loomed ahead — tall, rustic, and blissfully secluded. Wood-paneled siding, stone chimney, big wraparound porch. The kind of place that was supposed to be for hiking and unplugging.

It wasn’t going to be used for either.

You stretched your arms above your head, spine cracking as you stepped away from the trunk. Nika watched you openly from the driver’s side, dragging her teeth over her bottom lip before popping it free with a smug little click. “Keep that up, baby, and we’re not even making it inside.”

Azzi groaned from where she was pulling bags out of the backseat. “Can we not break the pact five minutes into arriving?”

“No promises,” Paige said, already hoisting a cooler onto one shoulder like it weighed nothing.

The walk to the front door was full of quiet looks and silent innuendos. Everyone remembered what had been said back in your apartment. The boundaries. The rules. The openness. You could practically hear it, even though no one said it outright: We’re allowed now.

Inside, the cabin was better than the pictures. Open-concept main floor, vaulted ceilings, exposed beams, soft golden light pouring through the big windows overlooking the woods. A fireplace sat in the center like the room was built to circle around it — and the bedrooms branched off both upstairs and down.

Nika tossed the keys on the kitchen counter and turned a slow circle, her voice low. “So which room is the loudest?”

“Better question,” Paige said, dropping the cooler, “Which one has the best view?”

Azzi drifted to the living room and leaned against the back of the couch, biting her lip. “We could leave the doors open. No one’s around. And someone might want to watch.”

You felt Nika’s hand graze your back, palm flat and warm. She whispered near your ear, “They’re already plotting.”

You didn’t look away from Azzi. “So are we.”

The group split naturally: you and Nika took the downstairs bedroom — big king bed, private en-suite, door that could shut tight. Paige and Azzi went upstairs, where their window overlooked the firepit and hot tub below.

Unpacking was fast. Clothes folded into drawers, lube tossed in the nightstand. Everyone had brought more swimsuits than actual outfits, and the implication of that settled over the place like humidity.

Later, with drinks in hand and music humming low from a Bluetooth speaker, the four of you gathered on the back deck. The sun was setting through the trees in streaks of orange and gold, bathing everyone in warm, forgiving light.

Azzi leaned back in her chair, sipping something fruity and spiked. “Okay but… are we pretending this is normal? This whole ‘horny summer camp’ energy?”

“I thought that was the goal,” you said.

“Exactly,” Paige said, nodding toward you. “We’re not being weird about it. We talked. We know the rules. I know who I’m sleeping with tonight, and I know what I’m allowed to do to everyone else.”

“Allowed, huh?” Nika said, raising a brow. “That sounds so… tame.”

You turned toward her. “Did you want a permission slip?”

“I want to earn a performance review.”

Azzi choked on her drink.

“Jesus,” Paige muttered, smirking.

The laughter was real, but so was the heat underneath it. No one was touching each other yet, but glances lingered. Knees brushed. No one pulled away.

And even though you were sitting beside Nika, you noticed how her eyes dropped to Azzi’s mouth when she licked a bit of syrup from her thumb. Just like you caught Paige looking at your legs when you shifted in your seat.

You stretched your foot out beneath the table, nudging Azzi’s bare ankle. She looked up slowly, her eyes unreadable for a moment—then her smile turned sly. She didn’t move away.

It had begun.

-

The kitchen smelled like garlic, butter, and sin.

You were sautéing vegetables at the stove while Nika manned the cast iron pan behind you, searing steaks like it was a competitive sport. She’d tied a dishtowel around her waist like an apron, but wore nothing else except black athletic shorts and a smug grin. Every time she leaned past you for salt or seasoning, her chest brushed your back on purpose.

Paige and Azzi were handling the table, clinking glasses and setting out plates with too much sass and too many looks. Azzi wore a cropped UConn tee and shorts that clearly hadn’t been designed for bending over in, and Paige—shirtless, in grey sweats that sat criminally low—kept “accidentally” brushing past her.

“Gotta say,” Azzi called, peeking back into the kitchen. “I didn’t expect y’all to actually cook.”

“We’re multi-talented,” Nika said, not looking up from the pan. “Wanna find out how many ways later?”

“She’s been on one since the drive,” you muttered.

Azzi smirked. “Sounds like she’s still pent up.”

“Sounds like you want her to stay that way,” Paige added, “so she breaks you first.”

The table went quiet for a beat. It wasn’t awkward—it was charged. Everyone heard it. Everyone let it hang.

Then Nika clicked the burner off with one hand and turned to you with her free one resting low on your hip. “Food’s ready.”

You shot her a look. “We’re still feeding them?”

“Temporarily,” she said, grinning. “Then we can eat you.”

⸻

Dinner was… civilized. Barely.

The four of you sat around the wooden table like this was a normal vacation and not the prelude to an agreed-upon sexual free-for-all. Wine bottles uncorked. Plates passed. Eyes drifting where they shouldn’t. Forks paused midair just a moment too long.

“Okay,” Paige said after a long sip of cabernet. “Let’s make a bet.”

“Go on,” Nika said, leaning back with her wine.

“Losers have to sit out tomorrow night.”

Azzi perked up. “Sit out what?”

“Whatever happens. If things go down—” Paige shrugged one shoulder lazily, “—you don’t get to join unless you win tonight.”

“What’s the game?” you asked, intrigued.

“Truth or dare,” she said. “After the hot tub.”

You looked at Nika. She raised a brow like she’d been waiting for an excuse.

Azzi smirked. “Say less.”

⸻

Cabin Hot Tub

The air outside had cooled just enough to make the warmth of the bubbling hot tub feel like silk. Steam rolled off the surface, rising up into the dark trees. The stars were bright above you, crisp and clear.

You sank into the heat with a soft moan, your back hitting Nika’s chest as she pulled you against her. She was bare from the waist up, only a black sports bra and swim trunks, her hands spreading across your stomach like she owned every inch. Which, to be fair, she kind of did.

Across from you, Azzi was practically glowing—tight black one-piece clinging to her like wet sin. Her legs were draped over Paige’s lap, and Paige looked smug as hell, one hand resting dangerously close to Azzi’s inner thigh.

No one spoke at first. It didn’t feel necessary. You were all watching each other too openly for words.

Azzi finally broke the silence, voice husky. “So this is normal now, huh.”

“This is foreplay,” Nika murmured behind you, fingers grazing just under the band of your swimsuit.

Paige gave her a look. “Save it for the game.”

“You assume I plan to lose,” Nika said, eyes gleaming.

Azzi sat up, water slicking down her skin. “Let’s make it even more interesting. Whoever wins the game gets to choose the first pairing.”

Your breath caught—so did Nika’s.

“Oh, you mean like—”

“Exactly like that,” Azzi interrupted. “We all agreed, right? Sharing’s on the table.”

“Only during sex,” you added. “Still loyal. Still us. But in the moment… it’s fair game.”

“Fair,” Paige said. “Filthy. Friendly.”

Nika leaned in behind you and kissed your shoulder. “Then let’s play.”

-

The four of you were draped across the oversized sectional, wet swimsuits traded for dry sweats and oversized tees—well, barely dry. Azzi was still shirtless under her open hoodie, legs stretched out and feet in Paige’s lap. Nika sat with you curled between her thighs, your back against her chest, her hands tucked comfortably around your waist like you belonged there.

The tequila was making the rounds. Music pulsed low, more rhythm than melody. Outside, the woods were black and silent. Inside? Everything was vibrating with tension.

Paige leaned forward, eyes sharp. “Let’s make the first round honest. Truth only.”

Azzi raised a brow. “Who’s first?”

“I’ll start.” You sat up slightly, looking across at Azzi. “Truth: Who’s the one person here—other than Paige—you think about when you touch yourself?”

Azzi didn’t flinch. She looked at you dead-on and smiled. “Nika.”

You felt Nika laugh behind you, low and smug. Her hand slid lower, fingers brushing your thigh under the blanket.

Your turn. “Okay. Nika. Same question.”

“Easy,” she said, dragging a hand up your inner thigh with slow, deliberate pressure. “Paige.”

Paige raised her glass in salute. “Appreciate the honesty.”

Nika’s turn. “Paige. When’s the last time you thought about touching someone else here?”

Paige tilted her head. “Last night. In the shower.”

Azzi turned toward her. “Which one of us?”

Paige licked her lips. “You and her,” she said, nodding toward you without apology.

Your mouth went dry.

Azzi gave a lazy smile. “Noted.”

Nika shifted behind you, her voice a quiet growl. “I think we’re past the talking phase.”

Azzi sat up straighter. “Then dare it is.”

The room thickened.

Paige smirked. “Dare for you,” she said to Azzi. “Kiss Nika. Not sweet. Not soft.”

Azzi didn’t blink. She rose from the couch, stepping barefoot over to you and Nika. “You good with this?”

You looked up at her. “You know the rules.”

Nika tugged her arm around you tighter, tilting her chin up toward Azzi. “Don’t be shy now.”

Azzi leaned in and kissed her—and fuck, it wasn’t sweet. It was hot, slow, claimed. You felt Nika hum against your back, her fingers digging harder into your hip while Azzi’s hand slid into her hair and held. It lasted a beat too long. Maybe two.

When they pulled apart, Nika looked dazed, eyes dark. “Damn, Az.”

Azzi just smiled and walked back to Paige.

Nika exhaled hard and turned her mouth to your ear. “Your turn to play.”

You nodded slowly, nerves buzzing electric under your skin. “Dare me.”

Azzi looked at you. “Touch Paige. Mouth only.”

Paige shifted, spreading her thighs a little wider, eyes fixed on you. “You coming or what?”

You stood, pulse in your ears, and crossed the room. You knelt in front of her, hands on her thighs, and dipped your head between them.

The sound Paige made when your tongue first touched her—low, wrecked, needy—sent a jolt through everyone in the room.

Azzi watched, lips parted. Nika stood, walked up behind you, and gently pulled your hair back just enough to see your face working Paige over, to see how Paige was squirming from your mouth.

“You’re gonna make her come,” Nika said, quiet and possessive. “Make her fall apart and send her back leaking for Azzi.”

“Then I’ll do it,” you whispered—and you did.

You worked Paige slow and deep, holding her open until she was gasping and shaking, fingers twisted in your hair, half-cursing under her breath. Azzi leaned in, eyes wide, mouth hanging open.

“God, you look good like that,” she murmured.

Paige came with your name half-formed in her throat, and you only pulled away once she slumped back into the cushions, breathless and undone.

You stood. Nika kissed your cheek.

“Fuck,” Azzi whispered.

Then she turned to Nika. “Dare.”

Nika raised a brow. “You sure?”

Azzi didn’t hesitate. “Use your fingers. Right here. Right now.”

Paige sat up slowly, dazed but eager to watch. You crossed the room back to Nika, but she pulled Azzi toward her instead, sat her down on the couch, and spread her legs wide. Azzi let her, tilting her head back with a groan as Nika slipped her hand into her shorts and down beneath.

Azzi choked out a sound the moment Nika touched her.

You watched. Paige watched.

Azzi rocked into it—needy, wrecked—and Nika didn’t hold back. She fucked her slow but deep, drawing filthy, wet noises from between Azzi’s legs until she was whining, grinding into her palm, mouth open and flushed with pleasure.

And when Azzi came, shaking against her, Nika looked over her shoulder at Paige. “Still think I’m gonna lose the bet?”

Paige just laughed, breathless. “We all already lost.”

-

After that game, there was no pretending left.

Clothes came off in the hallway. Kisses landed wherever lips could reach. Hands roamed, greedy and wild. And when the four of you spilled into the master bedroom downstairs—sheets clean, lights low, music still thumping softly from the other room—it didn’t matter who belonged to who. Not right now.

Paige sat on the edge of the bed, legs spread, her chest rising and falling hard as she watched you kneel again—only this time, it was Azzi between your thighs, hair pulled back, lips slick and eyes locked on yours. She was working you over like she meant to win something for it, and maybe she did. Her mouth was insane, all teasing tongue flicks and sudden plunges that made you choke on your breath.

Behind you, Nika had a hand tangled in Azzi’s hair, guiding her pace even as her other palm dragged down your back, fingers pressing at the curve of your ass.

“You like that, baby?” Nika murmured, voice wrecked. “You want me to watch you fall apart on her mouth?”

You couldn’t even speak—you just nodded, hips grinding helplessly toward Azzi’s face. She hummed like she was proud of herself.

“Fuck,” Nika whispered, kissing the back of your neck.

On the other side of the bed, Paige had Azzi’s spot now—her head between Nika’s legs. Azzi had turned to watch, flushed and panting, licking her lips like she was memorizing the way her girlfriend’s tongue moved. Nika lay back, legs spread wide, a hand in Paige’s blonde hair, jaw slack from what must’ve been relentless pressure.

“Holy shit,” you gasped, eyes flicking to Paige’s face. “Is she always like that?”

Paige didn’t answer. Couldn’t. She had Nika right on the edge already, hips twitching, knuckles white from how hard she was gripping the sheets.

Azzi slid up your body, still between your legs, and kissed you—slow and dirty. You could taste yourself on her tongue. She moaned into your mouth, her fingers already trailing between your legs again.

“You’re so wet for us,” she whispered. “You’ve been dying for this, haven’t you?”

You nodded, desperate.

Nika came with a shout behind you—loud and sudden, her thighs squeezing Paige’s head as she arched off the bed. You watched it happen over Azzi’s shoulder, breath hitching at the sight of her losing it. She always looked hot when you made her come, but watching someone else do it?

You wanted to ruin her after.

Nika caught her breath, eyes fluttering open, locking on yours.

“Your turn,” she said, and reached for Azzi.

Azzi let herself be pulled, rolling off you and into Nika’s arms like she’d been waiting to be handled like that. Nika flipped her fast, shoved her onto her back, and kissed her like she meant to claim her. Azzi moaned into it, legs parting easily, hands already tugging Nika’s briefs down.

You turned to Paige.

“Come here,” she said, voice low and thick, reaching for you.

You straddled her without thinking, her hands instantly on your hips, her mouth dragging up your chest until her tongue flicked at your nipple and made you gasp.

“God, you taste good,” she muttered. “How does Nika let you leave the bed?”

“She doesn’t,” you groaned, grinding down against her thigh.

Behind you, Nika had two fingers inside Azzi and was fucking her open with slow, deep strokes. Azzi writhed, arms over her head, whimpering like she didn’t care who was watching—wanted to be watched.

You could feel Paige hard between your legs, her strap thick and pressing just right as you rolled your hips into her. She kissed up your throat, breath warm against your skin.

“You want it?” she whispered, rocking up against you.

You nodded.

“You sure?” she teased, dragging her tip through your wetness. “This still Nika’s?”

“She’s watching,” you panted. “So don’t hold back.”

That made her grin. “Oh, fuck yeah.”

She slid into you—deep, slow, stretching—and you swore so loudly you heard Nika laugh through a moan. She didn’t stop fucking Azzi, but her eyes were locked on you, watching how you took Paige, how your mouth dropped open when she filled you completely.

“That’s my girl,” Nika said, voice hoarse. “Take her cock like I trained you to.”

Paige groaned. “Jesus Christ.”

You rode her harder, back arching, hips slapping against hers. She met every thrust, her hands gripping your ass, her mouth dragging over your chest like she couldn’t get enough.

And Azzi? She came with Nika’s mouth on her tits, her moan shattering the air as she writhed under her—flushed, sweaty, beautifully undone.

You came next, shaking against Paige’s chest, biting her shoulder to muffle the scream. Paige didn’t stop until your legs gave out. Until you collapsed on top of her, chest heaving.

The room smelled like sex. Like sweat and heat and victory.

No one spoke at first. Just the sound of breathing. The shifting of limbs.

Then Nika leaned back on her elbows, still between Azzi’s legs, and said, “Well.”

Paige laughed, breathless. “Round one?”

“Definitely round one,” Azzi mumbled, completely fucked out.

You curled against Nika again as she wiped you down with a lazy kiss to your temple.

“Still mine,” she whispered.

“Always,” you said, lips brushing hers.

But your eyes met Azzi’s across the room—and she smiled, slow and promising.

-

Morning, Day 2

The sun was barely up when you rolled over and found Nika flat on her back, arm draped over her eyes, a smirk already ghosting across her lips.

“Someone’s walkin’ funny today,” she murmured, voice thick with sleep.

“Pretty sure you’re the one who screamed,” you shot back, stretching luxuriously as the sheet fell off your bare chest.

She cracked one eye open. “You tryna get eaten before breakfast?”

You smirked. “Not today. You’re resting.”

That got her attention. “Excuse me?”

You were already pulling on a loose crop top and soft shorts, nothing underneath, just enough to tempt without giving her what she wanted. Nika sat up, eyes narrowing, clearly clocking the tease in your every movement.

Before she could pounce, you kissed her cheek and whispered, “It’s our turn to play.”

⸻

You and Azzi were already at the kitchen island when Nika and Paige wandered in, still half-asleep and wearing last night’s smugness.

You shared a look with Azzi and struck.

Azzi leaned over the counter in her sleep shorts, tank top riding up her back just enough to show skin. “Sleep okay?” she asked, voice smooth.

“Barely,” Paige muttered, rubbing her neck. “Got attacked.”

“You’re welcome,” Azzi said, sipping orange juice slowly, deliberately licking the condensation from the rim.

Nika’s eyes dropped to your thighs where you were sitting cross-legged on the counter, sipping coffee. No panties. You could feel the draft and knew she could see it.

You raised the mug, like cheers. “Hope your fingers aren’t sore.”

“Oh, baby.” Nika looked ready to start something. “You keep flashing me like that, I’ll use my mouth instead.”

Azzi made a mock-scandalized sound. “At breakfast?”

You bit your lip, feigning innocence. “What? I’m just sitting.”

All day, it continued.

Azzi swam topless. You lounged across Nika’s lap but never let her touch. You bent over “accidentally” in front of Paige while Azzi made eye contact with Nika and bit into a peach obscenely. Every time Nika or Paige reached for either of you, you’d both laugh and pull away.

“No touching,” Azzi sing-songed around dinnertime. “We’re busy.”

“You’re gonna regret this,” Paige warned, voice low.

Azzi winked. “That’s the plan.”

⸻

Bedroom – Night 2

Nika and Paige were sprawled out on the bed, smug, shirtless, waiting for their “reward.”

You and Azzi stood at the foot of the bed, backs straight, eyes locked.

No more teasing.

Time to destroy.

You moved first—pushing Nika back onto the pillows, straddling her waist, dragging your nails down her stomach. She blinked up at you, surprised, but didn’t fight it. Not yet.

Azzi climbed over Paige, grinding down just enough to make her groan, but instead of giving her what she wanted, she pinned her wrists to the mattress.

Paige raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Oh,” Azzi echoed, and kissed her hard, deep, slow—before pulling away and saying, “You don’t get to run shit tonight.”

You leaned down to Nika’s ear. “That goes for you too.”

Then you started.

Nika was already hard in her strap, but you didn’t ride her—no. You teased her the way she always teased you. Grinding just barely. Letting your slick heat drag over her cock but never letting her all the way in. Her hands twitched on your hips and you slapped them away.

“No touching,” you whispered.

She growled. “You’re gonna make me beg?”

“Say please and I’ll think about it.”

Across the bed, Azzi was wrecking Paige’s composure. Her strap-on still hung untouched at her waist while she ground down against Paige’s abs, tongue flicking over her nipple, nails scraping her chest.

“You always get to lead,” Azzi whispered, lips brushing Paige’s jaw. “Tonight? You get used.”

You let Nika slip inside—just an inch. She moaned, hands curling into the sheets.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, don’t you?” you asked sweetly, rolling your hips just enough to make her twitch.

“God, yes,” she groaned.

You pulled off of her entirely.

She swore under her breath.

Azzi bent Paige’s legs up and slid her cock inside slowly, watching her girlfriend grit her teeth and try not to buck.

“You stay still,” Azzi whispered. “You take it.”

You kissed Nika—open, filthy—while rubbing her clit slow, teasing.

“I could make you come just like this,” you whispered, stroking her, “without ever letting you inside again.”

Nika was breathless, begging now, too wrecked to be smug.

You finally rode her, slow and punishing, dragging it out while Azzi pounded Paige on the other side of the bed, keeping her arms pinned above her.

Paige came first—loud and biting Azzi’s shoulder. Nika followed, swearing your name, clutching the sheets like it was the only thing keeping her grounded.

And you and Azzi?

You high-fived over their fucked-out bodies.

“You good?” you asked her, grinning.

Azzi wiped sweat from her brow. “Oh, I’m great.”

⸻

Day 3

The house was quiet when you woke, sunlight filtering in, the sheets still damp with last night’s filth.

You stretched, pleasantly sore, and looked over to find Nika already awake—arms folded behind her head, watching you with that calm, unreadable face she wore whenever she was planning something.

You rolled onto your stomach, chin propped on your hand. “You mad at me?”

Nika raised an eyebrow. “Mad? Baby… I’m impressed.”

A pause.

“But also,” she added, voice dropping, “you’re absolutely fucked later.”

Your stomach fluttered.

⸻

Everyone was lounging after a lazy lunch, half dressed, still buzzed from last night’s high. You sat curled on one end of the couch, Azzi beside you, both of you smug and content. Paige sat across from you, legs spread, tank top damp with sweat from chopping wood earlier.

She caught your gaze and licked a popsicle slow—ridiculously slow—then winked.

Azzi nudged you with her knee. “They’re up to something.”

“Obviously,” you whispered, but couldn’t help the grin.

You didn’t know what they were planning.

But you knew it was coming.

⸻

Night 3

The lights were low. The room smelled like candles and clean sheets. Paige and Nika sat at the edge of the bed—fully clothed. You and Azzi stood in front of them in just your underwear, still laughing from earlier.

“Alright,” Paige said, voice smooth. “That was fun. You got your little victory.”

Nika nodded. “Cute, really.”

Then she stood, closing the gap between you and her in two slow steps.

“But now it’s our turn.”

Before you could react, Nika spun you around and shoved you gently back against the bed. Paige caught Azzi and pulled her down into her lap with a firm, possessive grip.

You blinked, surprised.

Nika kissed you—deep, hot, tongue taking its time as her fingers slipped beneath the waistband of your panties.

“No teasing tonight,” she murmured. “You get used.”

You moaned before you could answer.

⸻

You were on your knees, face pressed into the mattress, Nika behind you with one hand gripping your hips, the other in your hair.

“This how you wanted it?” she asked, voice right at your ear. “Make me beg one night and crawl for me the next?”

You tried to speak but all you could do was nod, fingers clutching the sheets as her cock slid in—deep, steady, making you sob into the bed.

She didn’t go slow. She fucked you open, hips snapping hard, her name tearing from your throat in stuttered cries.

“Louder,” she ordered, spanking you once, sharp and hot. “Let her hear you.”

Across the room, Azzi was straddling Paige’s face, hands on the headboard, riding with abandon. Paige’s grip bruised her thighs, mouth locked onto her like she hadn’t eaten in days.

“Oh my god,” Azzi cried out, hips jerking, eyes rolling as she came—hard, messy, loud—and Paige didn’t let her go, didn’t slow down, kept licking until Azzi collapsed forward with a whimper.

Nika pulled out suddenly, dragging you up by the hair, then shoved you back down onto the pillows.

“On your back,” she ordered. “Legs open.”

You obeyed instantly, already trembling, already soaked.

She slid back in and bent over you, face close, one hand pinning your wrists above your head as she fucked into you with merciless rhythm.

“Thought you were in charge?” she growled, watching your expression break. “Thought you were gonna take control?”

You moaned so loud it echoed.

Paige had Azzi on her hands and knees now, pounding into her from behind, one hand wrapped around her throat, the other teasing her clit with slow, cruel circles.

“Say it,” Paige demanded. “Say who owns this pussy.”

Azzi choked on a gasp, voice high and fucked out. “You do, baby—fuck, Paige—!”

You came hard when Nika bit your shoulder and thrust deep, deep, staying inside while your whole body shook around her.

She held you through it, forehead pressed to yours, breath ragged.

“You still mine?” she whispered, voice wrecked.

You cupped her face. “Always.”

⸻

The four of you lay tangled together, bodies sticky and spent, the covers somewhere on the floor. Nika had her arm around you. Azzi was curled into Paige’s chest.

You reached out and linked pinkies with Azzi across the middle.

She smiled, eyes half-lidded. “Day four?”

You raised an eyebrow. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

Azzi smirked. “Shower. Sauna. Maybe a little partner-vs-partner…?”

Paige groaned, eyes closed. “You two are gonna be the death of us.”

Nika pulled you closer, lips brushing your temple.

“Then we die happy.”

-

You wake to the sound of birds and the soft click of the shower in the en suite. Nika’s not in bed. You stretch, sore and satisfied, then drag yourself up and shuffle toward the sound.

She’s in the shower, water running over her shoulders, hair slicked back. When she hears the door, she turns lazily, already smirking.

“Back for more already?”

You hum, stepping in behind her. “Didn’t say stop, did I?”

⸻

SCENE: Cabin Kitchen – Later That Morning

Azzi’s got a towel slung around her neck, sports bra clinging to her damp chest, and a banana in hand—definitely eating it with intent. Paige watches her like she already knows the game, but plays along anyway.

“We should sauna today,” Azzi says, licking her thumb.

You glance at Nika, who raises a brow.

You: “We turning up the heat?”

Azzi grins. “Let’s make it interesting.”

Paige leans in. “Define interesting.”

Azzi: “Team bet. Pairs stay the same. We go in. No touching. No kissing. Just teasing.”

You add, “Whichever pair cracks first—moans, begs, or breaks—loses.”

Nika laughs. “And the losers?”

You lean over, lips barely brushing her ear. “Get tied up tonight.”

⸻

Sauna

It’s already unbearable after three minutes.

You’re sitting across from Nika, legs wide, glistening sweat rolling down your thighs. Azzi’s beside you, back arched just enough to be disrespectful, while Paige—directly across from her—looks like she’s in pain trying not to look.

The rules are simple: no touching. No kissing. No moaning. Just pure restraint.

Azzi casually runs her fingers through her hair, lifting it off her neck, exposing the long stretch of skin.

Paige clenches her jaw.

You slowly tilt your head back, lips parted, one hand sliding down your own stomach and almost—almost—between your thighs.

Nika watches, breathing a little too hard, cock straining under her shorts.

Azzi whispers in your ear, soft and evil: “I give ‘em five minutes.”

You smile. “Generous.”

Two minutes later, Nika breaks.

“You fuckin’ brat,” she snaps, standing up and crossing the sauna in three strides. “That count as losing?”

You bat your lashes. “Only if you beg.”

She grabs your jaw. “I will tie you up tonight.”

Paige—still silent—suddenly stands too, yanking Azzi to her feet, eyes blazing.

Game. Over.

-

The ropes are soft but unforgiving, looped snug around your wrists and secured to the headboard. You and Azzi are lying side-by-side, bare and stretched out, arms bound above your heads, legs spread wide, thighs already slick. The air smells like sweat and candle wax. Heat hums beneath your skin.

Nika and Paige sit on the edge of the bed, still fully clothed. Still smug.

Nika runs the back of her hand down your inner thigh, not touching anything important yet—just close. Her voice is low, full of syrup and threat.

“Look at you. All that talk in the sauna, and now you’re tied up like you want to lose.”

You smirk despite the throb between your legs. “Maybe we did.”

Nika grabs your chin and makes you look her in the eye. “Then you’re gonna regret it.”

Next to you, Azzi’s hips jerk as Paige trails a single finger from her navel down between her legs, stopping right at the top of her slit. Paige doesn’t move it—just lets it sit there, heavy and warm, right where Azzi wants it most.

Paige hums thoughtfully. “I think we should take our time with this.”

Azzi tilts her head back, biting her lip hard. “Fuckin’ tease—”

Paige slides the tip of her finger lower. Not inside. Just slow, steady pressure along the seam. “What was that, baby?”

Azzi gasps.

Nika climbs between your legs and drapes your thighs over her own, spreading you wide. You’re dripping already, your slick smeared across your inner thighs from just a little teasing. She licks her lips.

“Didn’t even touch you yet,” she murmurs.

She doesn’t kiss your clit. Not yet. She starts with everywhere else—your stomach, your hips, the crease between your thigh and pelvis. It drives you mad. Your arms strain at the rope without meaning to.

You pant. “Nika—come on—”

She finally licks once, slow and flat from your opening to your clit. Your whole body jolts.

“That’s not begging.”

You groan. “Please. Please eat me. Please.”

She smiles against you and dives in.

⸻

Paige is being just as cruel on the other side of the bed. Azzi is a mess already—writhing, flushed, moaning in soft little bursts. Paige kneels between Azzi’s legs, her strap glistening from lube and Azzi’s spit, but she hasn’t used it yet. She’s got two fingers slowly, agonizingly fucking Azzi open, curling them just right but never fast enough.

Azzi throws her head back, hair fanned out over the pillow. “Fuck, Paige, please—I can’t—”

Paige slides her fingers out and smacks Azzi’s inner thigh hard enough to make her squeal. “Shut up.”

She climbs up her body and kisses her—deep and dirty, tongue pushing into her mouth like she owns it. Then she pulls back just far enough to mutter:

“You lost, baby. You don’t get to ask for anything.”

She grabs Azzi’s hips and lines the strap up, teasing the tip over her entrance, not pushing in yet.

“Beg properly, or I make you wait all fucking night.”

Azzi’s eyes flutter. “Please, Paige. I need it. Need your cock. Please—”

The second the words leave her mouth, Paige thrusts in hard, bottoming out in one long, unrelenting stroke.

Azzi screams.

⸻

Your eyes roll back when Nika presses two fingers into you while her tongue circles your clit just right—tight, fast spirals that make your hips stutter against her face.

She looks up, lips glistening. “You close already?”

You nod, breath hitching. “Yes, yes, just like that—”

She stops.

You nearly sob.

She leans up and kisses your cheek. “Not yet.”

You don’t know how long it lasts—how many times she gets you close only to back off, teasing you until tears prick the corners of your eyes. Every time she pauses, your hips chase her mouth, your thighs shaking.

“I think you like being edged,” she murmurs. “Look at you—already ruined, and I haven’t even fucked you yet.”

Next to you, Azzi’s moaning nonstop now, body jerking as Paige pounds into her, rough and steady. Her hands fist the sheets since she can’t grab Paige, and her voice is high and broken.

“F-fuck, yes—Paige—don’t stop, don’t—don’t—”

You glance sideways and see it: Paige’s hand on Azzi’s throat, her rhythm brutal now, strap driving in deep. Azzi’s mouth falls open in a silent scream as she comes, whole body tensing so hard it arches off the bed.

She whines when Paige doesn’t stop.

“Too much?” Paige whispers. “Or not enough?”

Azzi nods, both answers at once.

⸻

Nika finally gives you what you need. She takes off her harness slowly, straps on her cock with deliberate care, then crawls over you, settling between your trembling thighs.

“Beg again,” she whispers, dragging the tip through your soaked folds.

You bite your lip hard. “Please, Nika. I need it—I need you to fuck me.”

She pushes in slow, watching your face the whole time.

You moan loud. “Fuck, yes—”

And she starts fucking you.

Hard. Deep. One hand planted on your hip, the other sliding up to wrap gently around your throat. She leans over, lips right at your ear.

“You’re mine,” she growls. “No matter who hears you scream.”

You lose it fast, body clenching around her cock as your second orgasm crashes over you like a wave—loud, shaking, breathless.

And Nika doesn’t stop either.

⸻

You and Azzi are untied, but too spent to move. You’re curled into Nika’s chest, boneless, her arm holding you tight. Azzi’s limp across Paige’s body, face buried in her shoulder.

Everyone’s still breathing hard. The air is thick with sex.

No one talks for a while.

Then Azzi lets out a hoarse laugh. “That… was foul.”

Paige grins against her forehead. “You love it.”

You groan softly. “We’re never winning another bet, are we?”

Nika kisses the crown of your head. “Not if you keep teasing us like that.”

You hum sleepily, satisfied. “Worth it.”

-

It starts playful.

Breakfast is a little quiet after the night before, everyone sore in the best way. Paige is in a hoodie, nursing coffee with two hands. Nika’s only wearing a sports bra and boxers, sitting on the counter like she owns the place. Azzi’s across from you, legs tucked up in the chair, shooting you a secretive little smile between bites of toast.

You lean over to grab a napkin and catch her looking again.

There’s a charge to it. Something unspoken. Something a little dangerous.

“You two good over there?” Nika teases, raising a brow at you and Azzi.

“More than good,” you say. “Thinking about switching it up tonight.”

That gets a pause. Paige glances up. “What do you mean?”

Azzi sets down her mug. “I mean… me and her,” she nods toward you, “you two,” she nods toward Nika and Paige. “Just for tonight.”

Nika scoffs, smirking. “You’re really trying to hand me off like that?”

“Hand you off?” Paige laughed. “I’m doing you a favor.”

You glance at Azzi, fighting your smile.

“Sounds like they’re scared,” you murmur.

Azzi shrugs. “They’ll survive.”

⸻

You and Azzi get ready together, subtle but suggestive. You tie your hoodie around your waist, showing off the curve of your hips in those clingy little shorts. Azzi wears a cropped tank and nothing else—no bra, no shame.

Meanwhile, Nika and Paige disappear into the guest room together.

By the time dinner is over, the tension is thick. Everyone’s pretending it’s normal—just game night, just music playing low from someone’s phone—but there’s too much heat in every glance, too much challenge behind every word.

When the wine bottle’s empty and the table’s cleared, no one has to say anything. Everyone just… splits.

You take Azzi’s hand and lead her to your room.

Paige pulls Nika upstairs by her waistband.

The door closes behind you.

⸻

It’s different with her.

You’re used to her being a little soft around Paige, but with you? Azzi’s eyes darken fast. She moves like she knows exactly what she wants.

She backs you up against the bed and slips her hands beneath your shirt, dragging it off slowly.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all week,” she murmurs.

You laugh, breathless already. “I could say the same.”

She kisses you hard—deep, hot, hungry—like she’s been holding it back. You let her push you down, legs spreading automatically as she climbs over you. Her thighs cage you in, her hands slipping beneath your waistband.

You gasp when she touches you—bare, warm fingers slipping between your folds, slow and deliberate.

“You already this wet for me?”

You nod, too wrecked to lie.

Azzi leans in, lips brushing your ear.

“Then I’m gonna take my time.”

And she does. Fingers teasing, tongue circling your clit just enough to make you squirm, but never enough to push you over. She kisses her way down your stomach, her voice low, rough:

“Been thinking about how you taste.”

Your back arches as her mouth slides down, tongue flicking, licking, sucking. You tangle your fingers in her hair and rock your hips, gasping her name again and again.

When you finally come, she doesn’t let up. She keeps going, licking through it, until your thighs are shaking and your voice is broken.

You flip her after.

She grins like she expected it.

You strip her slow—kissing her neck, her chest, licking over her abs. You settle between her thighs and eat her like it’s the only thing you’ve ever wanted. She grabs the headboard, moaning, legs trembling around your shoulders.

And when you slide two fingers inside her and curl them just right?

Azzi comes hard, gasping your name, eyes wide open, locked on you the whole time.

⸻

They’re not gentle.

Nika’s pressed up against the wall the second they’re alone, Paige’s tongue in her mouth, one hand already up her shirt. Clothes are pulled off, thrown across the room without ceremony. Paige pushes her onto the bed and climbs on top, straddling her thighs.

“You gonna take it?” Paige asks, dragging the strap up her legs.

Nika smirks. “I was born to.”

Paige fucks her face-down, one arm around her waist, the other gripping her hair. Nika’s moans echo through the walls, ragged and wild. She’s taking every inch, biting the pillow, soaking the sheets.

Later, Nika pins Paige down in return, grinding on her thigh with slick-slick skin, eyes half-lidded, lips swollen from kisses and teeth.

They don’t stop until the room smells like sex and sweat and sin.

⸻

You’re lying in Azzi’s arms, her fingers tracing soft lines over your skin. She kisses your shoulder, your neck, then your cheek.

“That was…” she starts, then just laughs a little.

You nuzzle into her, still dizzy. “Yeah. I know.”

Upstairs, Paige and Nika are tangled together, bruised and lazy, grinning like idiots.

No one talks much the next morning.

But when you walk past each other in the hallway—eyes meeting, lips twitching—you all know exactly what went down.

And no one regrets a thing.

-

The cabin’s unusually quiet when you wake up.

You’re tangled in Azzi’s arms, both of you still warm and lazy from the night before. Her hand rests low on your back, fingertips tracing absent little circles. She doesn’t say much when you stir—just hums softly and presses a kiss to your shoulder.

“Morning,” she mumbles.

You glance over your shoulder. “You good?”

Azzi smirks. “More than.”

You both stay like that for a while—silent, satisfied, but fully aware of how last night changed something. Not bad. Just… different.

Eventually you drag yourselves out of bed and into the kitchen, where Paige is already drinking from the OJ carton in her sports bra and sweats. Nika’s shirtless, sprawled on the couch, flipping through the TV menu like she doesn’t remember how buttons work.

You and Azzi exchange a look.

Here we go.

(sorry to cut it, it got too long so this is part 1 of 2)

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Normally, I don't like rustic homes, but you HAVE to see the over-the-top features they have in this place. 2009 mansion in Branson, MO has 8bds, 12ba, 13,803sqft, $6.999m + $596mo. HOA.

Lots of stone, and at the top of the stairs, cherub newel posts.

The fireplace in the living room is massive. (Not to mention the size of the living room, itself.)

Look at the clay lion fireplace in the dining area.

A plaque with a cherub head on the exhaust hood says "Villa Helene," I think.

Guests sit on real saddles at the bar.

Check out the faucet and life size fish in the guest powder room.

Huge primary bedroom.

They've incorporated other styles, so it's not just rustic. The piece above the fireplace looks like architectural salvage.

The gigantic stone ensuite.

This bedroom features a crushed velvet head board, a nice fireplace, and access to a terrace.

The mirrors in the ensuite match the fireplace and bedroom set. Nice stained glass window.

Bunkhouse style bedroom.

Here's a 2nd bar.

Look at the sink in this powder room- it's some sort of green stone and the base looks like a tree stump.

Down here, there's more. It could be a guest apt.

Some decor- looks like a sun with weird little men holding lanterns.

A kitchen/living room combo.

Plus a bedroom.

And, a bath. There's also a 2nd bedroom suite.

Very large patio with a pool. There are supposed to be fire breathing dragons, too, but I don't see them.

Your own bridge and boat slip.

0.94 acre lot on Table Rock Lake.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/88-End-Of-Trail-Dr-Branson-MO-65616/236153338_zpid/

[hello-gloomy]

Hello Hello! I tried to find your rules, but I couldn’t so I apologize in advance if I’ve broken any! May I request some Senku headcanons or an imagine (whichever you prefer) of him and his genius! S/O post petrification. They managed to get un-petrified elsewhere and he comes across them doing their own thing in the same “I need to rebuild society” mindset as him

Nerd-synthesis-

Ngl I went off the handle w this one and it's kinda fire, I hope you don't mind that I put a wack ass twist to it. (Might have to make a part two let me know ya'll)

-------------------

A Thousand Years

Senku x Gender neutral!Reader

Description: When the KOS arrives in Europe for supplies for the rocket project, they find a colony that is quite far along with their advancements. When some locals take them to the colony's leader, it's the last person Senku thought he'd see.

Warnings: It's pretty tame, with a sprinkle of angst. The reader isn't introduced till later, and there is no mention of pronouns or exact gender. Slightly dialog heavy. Nameless side characters. Strays from cannon.

A/N: This one gave me so much damn trouble, please enjoy this so its at least worth all the suffering I went through for it. Also, this might be my new fav timeline for this one ngl. Let me know if ya'll want a part two, please. BTW make sure u look up what Senku's name after you read this and his birthday :^

Words: 2,087

-------------------

"Orstway trip ever," Gen spoke as they set down the boarding plank to the beach. After finishing things up with the American colony, they planned to head toward Europe to finish getting supplies for the rocket; they chose their crew members and made the estimate of the trip taking two months and planned accordingly. Senku walked near Xeno and looked around the beach, looking at the lack of stone statues. Xeno looked over at him, hoping that he saw it too.

"Something's wrong," Senku said with a slight diminishment. He was hoping they wouldn't get into a fight just as they landed. They were low on food and needed to replenish supplies before they could have anything happen. Ukyo looked up and stared off. A few others saw and looked where he was staring, and then they heard children laughing. A group of what looked like grade schoolers came running up to them excitedly; they spoke English and were asking questions about the boat. An older teen came running to catch up to them, looking slightly fearful of all the foreigners. Gen and Senku made way to talk to the teen, seeing as they were close in age, and Ukyo talked and entertained the younger kids with questions. Xeno and Stanley came to join Gen to make a plan; they convinced the teen to take them to the main European colony to talk to this group leader and would leave Ryusui and a few others on the Perseus to keep watch in case things went wrong. The teen herded the kids along while guiding the group. They took notice of a few things: the clothes were pretty close to 20th-century clothing, there was a clear path from the beach to somewhere else, and it was pretty worn in, showing that it was made a while ago. The teen led them to a rustic-looking establishment and took them indoors to a Railway depot. When they were fully inside, other people were waiting in the station with them; some were reading books, and others were talking and waiting quietly.

"Apologies- but when was this colony established?" Xeno asked while taking in everything. Gen had run off to talk to other locals as subtly as possible. Senku was practically shaking with excitement at how far along the entire place was; he couldn't wait to see what the main area looked like.

"I think the founder said they broke out around 5728. AP," The teen answered with a shrug. The group all came back together with each other when they heard the loud bellow of a train horn. It was sleek, black, and a fantastic piece of machinery to behold for them.

"Ryusui-chan is gonna want this so badly when we tell him about this later." Gen teases with a grin as they board the train, walking past other seated passengers, with some staring at the start before returning to their little worlds. They all take their seats while admiring the inside of the cabin. Stanley lights a smoke, and a woman in a uniform matching the trains interior scheme comes over, opens the window and a fold-out tray where they are sitting, and sets out an ashtray for him. The group is stunned and amazed before chatting excitedly about the ordeal. Senku watches the scenery pass by them out the window; the area surrounding the train tracks still keeps the natural areas the same, and they pass by one or two towns on the way to what he hopes is a city. He sighed and rested his head against the glass; the whole ride there took about ten minutes. The announcer tells them the name of the stop, and they get off with a few other passengers; their guide tells them they must stop for a payphone to make a call quickly.

"YOU HAVE PAYPHONES!" Gen looks like he's about to cry, and Senku races to catch up with the teen, asking to see the phone as well. The kids stay with some of the group while Senku, Xeno, and the teen make the call while the latter two watch. After they make the call, they walk along the stoned and paved roads to a cafe to drop off the kids with another friend and then make their way to the council office as they've been informed all the prominent leaders are currently having a meeting. The outside of the building had a gothic architecture; when they made it inside, multiple bells lined the ceiling, with most of them sporting linning connected to a device on a far side of the building. Senku made a note to ask about that later. The teen told them to have a seat while they went inside to get the colony leader.

"How high is the possibility of us getting shot on sight?" Gen asks with a slight nervousness to him. Xeno leaned against Stanley, and Senku got up to pace a bit while observing the inside of the building.

"We have a 20 percent possibility of that happening, " the soldier answered nonchalantly, and both doctors nodded along. The doors they were waiting outside burst open, and many voices came from within the room.

"Sorry about that! Ya'll can come in now." A woman with a strong accent told while poking her head out. They all looked between themselves before shrugging and waltzing in. There was a large round table in the center of the room, a balcony above them, and a few people sitting around and arguing. Senku looked around and was starting to get weary with the lack of progress now; seeing all the advancements was nice, but he needed materials and needed them soon; eventually, a voice that he thought he would never hear again booms out from the shadows.

"We've built payphones, trains, lights, hell, even cameras! But you want to stop at the thought of creating a satellite." Such conviction in your voice made his heart clench; you walked down the steps, came to the center of the room, and slammed your hands on the table.

"I wish to explore the stars and communicate across the waters!" You said with a flourish and a wave of your black-gloved hands.

"And getting to the stars will help me accomplish that goal." It was like when he built inventions with you in the old world. He couldn't help but smile as you laid out your plan to everyone in the room and swayed them so quickly; in the end, when you held the vote, everyone agreed with you with the joy you held when you initially told them of your plans. Once the meeting was over, you had everyone leave the room; the woman that had let them in earlier had pointed them out to you; you took a double glance when you saw him and dropped everything in your hands when you saw him.

"You look older, " he tells you while skimming your appearance; the kid earlier said the time of when you had broken out, he estimated that you had to be at least nine years older than him. He walked around the table to get a closer look at you, and you backed up a bit as he approached. Your eyes started to water as you looked at him; he thought you were always more emotional than him. He raised his hand toward your face but stopped just short of it; then, you crushed him in a hug. He returned it the best he could and laughed while you cried quietly into his chest.

"Uhm- hate to break whatever this is up, but care to explain Senku-chan?" Gen butted in, and Senku sighed while still holding you, patting your back while you got out thousands of years of distance from your lover out on his lab coat.

"They're my…Hm…Fiancee." You snapped up from his chest with a surprised look.

"Congratulations." Xeno offered while you and Gen both spluttered; you were about to ask when this happened when Senku slipped off your glove and then on a metal band with a small green jewel onto your left ring finger. You were left standing there looking stupid while he told you to show them around the place. You were floating along the whole tour, still lost on how you would get married after having not seen him for over three thousand years.

"Oh, there's still a monument left from when we originally built the town when I woke up here." You perk up as you tell them and pick up your pace to show them. As you walk outside, they see other city inhabitants greet you with warm smiles and occasionally stop to give you things or to chat quickly. By the time you make it to the monument, the sun is starting to set. It's slightly off from the communal eating area for the original island settlers: a giant stone slab with names carved on it and dates beside them. The five of you look at the list of names, and Senku spots yours; his eyes trail over to the date you broke out of stone: January 4th, 5728. He reaches his hand out to it. Gen looks over at the date, and his eyes widen at the year.

"That means you should be forty years old.." The four of them look over at you.

"They don't look forty, closer to twenty, thirty the most," Xeno says as he holds his face while looking at your features.

"After the second time I was turned to stone, I stopped aging." You answer with a shrug; they all look at you slightly horrifiedly. You wave them off and lead them back to the town hall.

"We should probably call the Perseus to restock on supplies." Senku interjects as you lead them.

"Let's go to the communication room, then; the payphones might not connect to your frequency, " you tell them with a happy clap of your hands. You lead them to a large room with vintage communication systems and lead them over to a girl who looks older, taller, and closer in appearance to you. You introduce her as your sister and tell her to communicate with their ship. Xeno helps her find the frequency, and the device crackles to life; you hand Senku and Xeno a headset, grab one for yourself, and start to speak.

"This is the city of Thousand Skies hailing the Perseus; do you copy?" There's silence on the other end before a calm voice answers.

"This is Perseus we copy." You smile at Senku and let him take over; he breaks down the situation, and you can hear some cheering in the background.

"We'll send out a group to help move you guys to the city and take the Perseus to the docks closer to the city so we can load it up with supplies." You sent out a few groups with some cars with good carrying capacity, as the train would have taken too long and stopped running due to the late hour. You head to the meal hall and ask for the chefs to prepare for a party; while you wait, the four that came with you initially sit, and you bring over some drinks for them all. You sit beside your soon-to-be husband and start fussing over his clothes a bit; when you finish, you look at his face and sigh while running your hands over the petrification marks that were left permanently. He grabs your hand with the ring on it while watching you, moving closer you glance at his lips, and before the two of you can kiss,

"Damn, is this how you felt with me and Xeno, Gen?" You cover your mouth with your hand while Senku glares at your onlookers. They cackle amongst themselves while teasing Senku some more. You lay your head on his shoulder instead, and the rest of his crew burst into the hall; they start to take seats at all the tables, and the one you heard over the mic sits with your group along with a loud blonde and Senku's childhood friends. You haven't felt this at home in a long time; his friends excitedly tell you tales of their adventures worldwide, and you end up sharing yours with them the hall calming down to listen. When you finish your story, Taiju raises a toast in your honor, and everyone shouts their 'cheers' for you. Eventually, when everyone is distracted, you share your long-awaited kiss with Senku; it was worth waiting all those years for it.

"OH MY GOD, THEY'RE KISSING!" Senku holds his head in his hands, and you can't help but laugh.

[goldsainz]

# CS55 — UN BRINDIS POR LA NAVIDAD !

MASTERLIST !

SERIES MASTERLIST !

001. SUMMARY !

✯ carlos surprises you with a romantic christmas getaway to a family friend’s vineyard.

002. WARNINGS !

✯ drinking (kinda). mainly just fluff.

003. NOTE !

✯ and so it begins! i’m actually so excited for this and i hope you guys are too, i plan to be consistent with this so pls appreciate my commitment. i don’t plan for these to be long, for there to be second parts, just some cute christmas fluff and that’s it.

word count : 2,1k

The winter sun cast a golden glow over the vineyard on the outskirts of Madrid, the crisp air carrying the faint scent of pine and ripe grapes lingering from the last harvest. Carlos had been unusually secretive for weeks, dropping hints about a surprise. Now, as you stood at the entrance of a sprawling estate surrounded by rows of leafless vines dusted with frost, you realized just how much thought he’d put into this moment.

“Welcome to the vineyard,” he said, grinning as he opened the car door for you. His excitement was contagious, and you couldn’t help but mirror his smile.

A warm greeting from one of the Sainz family’s longtime friends set the start of your holiday getaway. The gentleman, a jovial man with an easy smile and a thick Castilian accent, waved you both in like family. “Ah, Carlos, it’s been far too long! And you,” he said, turning to you, “must be the reason he’s been glowing lately.”

Carlos blushed but didn’t deny it, instead taking your hand and squeezing it. “Come on, I want to show you everything,” he said, his excitement bubbling over.

The estate felt like stepping into a postcard of rustic elegance. The old stone bodega stood proudly at the center, its weathered façade draped with ivy and adorned with hand-carved wooden doors. Inside, the smell of aged oak barrels and fermenting wine filled the air. Barrels were stacked floor-to-ceiling, their dark wood polished smooth with time. Carlos ran his hand over one, explaining how his family had often come here to learn about the winemaking process.

“You can tell a lot about a vineyard by its barrels,” he said, his voice taking on an almost reverent tone. “Each one has a story.”

Next, you moved to the tasting room, a cozy sanctuary with a roaring fireplace and walls lined with bottles of wine. Soft Spanish guitar music played in the background, blending seamlessly with the crackle of the fire. Carlos’s friend poured samples of the vineyard’s best offerings—crisp whites, bold reds, and a rosé that tasted like summer in a glass.

Carlos, ever the storyteller, was in his element. “I was probably seven the first time I came here,” he said, swirling a deep crimson wine in his glass. “I remember running through the vines, thinking they went on forever.”

He paused, a mischievous smile tugging at his lips. “And once, my nonna caught me trying to sneak a sip of wine. She didn’t yell—she just poured me the tiniest drop into a glass and said, ‘Taste it properly or not at all.’” He laughed at the memory, his eyes crinkling in the way that always made your heart skip a beat.

As the hours passed, you found yourself utterly immersed in the world of the vineyard. The family friend led you both through the cellar, and out to a terrace overlooking the countryside. The panoramic view was breathtaking: rows of vines fading into the horizon, hills dusted with snow, and the soft winter sun casting long shadows over the land.

Carlos stood close beside you, his arm brushing against yours as he pointed out landmarks from his childhood. “See that little chapel on the hill? We used to race to the top. I always lost,” he admitted, laughing.

“Hard to imagine you losing a race,” you teased, earning a playful nudge.

The magic of the place wasn’t just in its beauty but in the way Carlos brought it to life with his stories. He wasn’t just showing you the vineyard; he was sharing a part of himself. The way he spoke about his childhood, his family, and the land made you see him in a new light—more grounded, more tender, and impossibly more captivating.

“Do you know what makes this place even better in winter?” Carlos asked, his voice teasing yet warm as the sun dipped lower in the sky, casting long golden shadows across the vineyard.

“What’s that?” You replied, curiosity lighting up your face.

“Rosquillas de vino,” he announced, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

“Wine donuts?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Not just wine donuts,” he corrected, grinning. “The best wine donuts you’ll ever taste. And today, I’m going to teach you how to make them.”

Before you could protest—though you had no intention of doing so—he took your hand and led you into a charming little kitchen tucked away in the bodega. The space was as inviting as the rest of the estate, with wooden beams overhead, copper pots hanging from the walls, and a large farmhouse table set with everything you’d need: flour, sugar, olive oil, and, naturally, a bottle of the vineyard’s finest wine.

Carlos wasted no time, rolling up his sleeves with the confidence of someone who had done this a hundred times before. “Right,” he said, clapping his hands together. “First, we mix the dry ingredients.”

You tried to follow his instructions, but it quickly became apparent that Carlos was in his element. His hands moved deftly, measuring and mixing with practiced ease. Meanwhile, you struggled to keep up, spilling flour on the table and accidentally adding too much sugar to your bowl.

“Hey, it’s not a competition,” Carlos teased, nudging you with his elbow as he began to knead the dough.

“Good thing,” you shot back, laughing. “You’d win by a mile.”

The banter continued as you both worked side by side. Carlos’ dough seemed to come together effortlessly, forming smooth, perfect rings that he laid neatly on a tray. Yours, on the other hand, looked more like abstract art.

He glanced over and tried to stifle a laugh. “Are you sure you’ve never done this before? Because these… are unique.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully swiping a handful of flour and tossing it at him. It landed squarely on his shoulder, leaving a white streak on his dark sweater.

“Oh, so that’s how it’s going to be?” he said, raising an eyebrow and scooping up his own handful of flour.

Before you could react, he dusted it lightly over your hair. You gasped in mock outrage, grabbing another handful, and within moments, a full-blown flour war broke out. Laughter echoed through the kitchen as flour flew in every direction, covering both of you in a fine white powder.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” you accused, giggling as he reached over and smudged a streak of flour across your cheek.

“Maybe,” he admitted, grinning. “But look how cute you are with flour on your face.”

Despite the chaos, the rosquillas made it into the oven. As they baked, filling the kitchen with a warm, sweet aroma, you both took a moment to catch your breath. The table was a disaster zone, and your clothes were beyond saving, but none of it mattered.

Carlos leaned against the counter, his hair dusted with flour and his smile softer now. “See? Told you this would make the place even better.”

You shook your head, still laughing as you brushed a bit of flour off his sleeve. “I don’t know if it’s the donuts or you, but I think you might be right.”

When the sweet treats were finally done, you pulled them out of the oven together, their golden edges glistening with a light dusting of sugar. Carlos took one, broke it in half, and handed you a piece.

“Moment of truth,” he said, watching as you took a bite.

The donut was warm, tender, and subtly sweet with the faintest hint of wine. It was perfect.  

“You’re a genius,” you said, savoring the flavor.  

“Don’t let my nonna hear you say that,” he replied, laughing. “She’d take all the credit.”  

The warmth of the rosquillas, the mess in the kitchen, and the way Carlos looked at you—it all felt incredibly perfect. In that moment, you realized that the donuts were more than just a treat; they were a memory, a piece of Carlos’s life that he was sharing with you. And you couldn’t imagine anything sweeter than that.

The magic of that moment lingered as night fell, casting the vineyard in twilight hues. Carlos took your hand, guiding you outside with a knowing smile. The air was crisp, carrying the faint scent of pine, frost, and the rich aroma of wine still clinging to the evening.  

What awaited outside took your breath away. Twinkling Christmas lights adorned the trees, their soft glow reflected in the freshly fallen snow. Under the largest tree stood a small table draped in linens, set with two glasses, a bottle of wine, and blankets invitingly draped over the chairs.  

“Carlos,” you whispered, touched by the magic he had created.  

He smiled, his eyes warm and reflecting the golden light around you. “I wanted tonight to be unforgettable,” he said softly, pulling you closer as the two of you approached the table.  

As you settled onto the blanket-draped bench, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you into his warmth. The glow of the lights, the stillness of the vineyard, and the presence of the man beside you created a serenity you hadn’t known you needed.  

“You know,” he began, his voice low and thoughtful, “when I brought you here, I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about it. This place means a lot to me, but I wanted it to mean something to us.”  

“It already does,” you replied, turning to meet his gaze. “Carlos, this is… it’s perfect. Every part of today.”  

His face softened, a mixture of relief and adoration. “Good. Because I’ve been planning this for months. Do you have any idea how hard it was not to let anything slip? My friends started betting on how long I’d last before ruining the surprise.”  

You laughed, imagining his determination—and struggle—to keep his plans a secret. “Well, I think you deserve all the praise for pulling this off. Today has been more perfect than I could have ever imagined.”  

Then, Carlos set his glass down and turned to you, his expression shifting to something more serious. “There’s one more thing I wanted to say,” he murmured, his voice steady but laced with emotion.  

You tilted your head, curiosity sparking again. “What is it?”  

He hesitated for a moment, as though gathering his thoughts. Then, with a small smile playing on his lips, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, elegantly wrapped box. The golden vineyard lights danced across the delicate wrapping. He held it out to you, his fingers brushing against yours as you took it.

“This isn’t what you might be thinking,” he began quickly, a faint blush rising to his cheeks. “I’m not proposing—yet. But this,” he gestured to the box, “is a promise. A promise that wherever life takes us, you’ll always have a piece of me, just like I’ll always carry a piece of you.”  

Your heart raced as you opened the box, revealing a delicate gold necklace nestled inside. The pendant, shaped like a tiny vine leaf, was intricate, it's fine details capturing the beauty of the vineyard that surrounded you. It glinted in the soft light, shinier than the stars and the moon.

Your breath caught, emotion welling up as you took the necklace from his hands. “Carlos…” you whispered, your voice trembling.  

He clasped it around your neck, his fingers brushing your skin gently. “I want this to be the beginning of something. Not just for tonight, but for every Christmas, every memory, every part of our story.”  

Tears filled your eyes as you touched the pendant, feeling the intricate details. “It’s beautiful.” you said, smiling through the tears.  

Carlos cupped your face, his thumbs brushing away the stray tears. “I love you,” he said simply, the weight of the words wrapping around you like a blanket.  

“I love you too,” you replied, leaning into his touch as his lips met yours in a soft, lingering kiss that carried every promise his words had left unsaid.  

When you finally pulled away, you rested your forehead against his, the warmth of his breath mingling with yours. As you sat together under the lights, the rosquillas, the wine, the necklace, and the man beside you made the night feel infinite.  

Raising your glasses, you toasted to the moment.  

“To many more Christmases like this,” you said, your voice filled with hope and love.  

“And to us,” Carlos added, his eyes never leaving yours.  

The clink of your glasses echoed softly through the still night, a sound that would forever remind you of the Christmas when forever began.

[diazsdimples]

I am just as devastated as the next person about Bobby and Athena’s house being burned down but think about the possibilities! Walk with me here. Bobby spending 90% of his time on Real Estate websites when he’s not plotting how to get the 118 back from Gerrard. Athena noticing that his searches get gradually further away from metropolitan LA until one day, Bobby very happily shoves the laptop in front of her face and there’s a listing for a very cute looking ranch-style property. “And it’s only an hours drive on the freeway, Athena!” Athena’s initially resistant because since when has Bobby ever expressed interest in living on a ranch and also she is a city girl through and through, but Bobby finally convinces her to come view the property with him and fuck, it’s actually kinda perfect. It’s in their price range, with a lovely big house that’s got 4 bedrooms (one for them, one for Harry, one for May, and a guest room/ office), the kitchen is massive and rustic and Bobby’s like a kid in a candy shop the whole time, just bouncing around this place like an energised toddler (“it has a walk in pantry, Athena!”) and Athena starts unconsciously planning the furniture layout and some renovations. And then, and then, Bobby takes her outside and the back yard is absolutely gorgeous; there’s a patio that’s got a barbecue, a stone pizza oven, a fire pit (one outside this time), there’s so much room and space and Athena can feel herself gradually falling in love. And it’s got TWO WHOLE PADDOCKS! The opportunities are endless! They go home and she tries to act indifferent but Bobby finds her looking at the listing again and going through their finances, scoping out the local area, checking her commute time into work. They talk about it a couple more times, during which Bobby mentions the fact that he’s always wanted to own horses and he misses having chickens like he did when he was little in Minnesota, and honestly it’s her husband’s insistence and pure joy that ends up convincing her. She’s got one condition though: she gets a bunny rabbit. It’s a non-negotiable. If Bobby wants the house, Athena gets a rabbit. Bobby agrees, so they end up putting in a tentative offer, slightly under what they think it could go for, but miracle upon miracles, it gets accepted!! They finally tell the 118 (who respond with a variety of reactions, most of which being “you bought a what??”) and a few weekends later, they’re moving in their few worldly possessions, as well as setting up all the furniture Bobby impulsively ordered one night when Buck was over and pulled up a few furniture stores. Athena starts building a rabbit hutch, which turns into something more like a rabbit castle cause she’ll only have the best for her baby, and she gets her rabbit, who she names Hercules. He spends a fair chunk of time inside, on her lap as she rubs his ears. Bobby ends up buying a whole flock of hens, and a rooster that he names Maurice (and he’s never seen Tommy back up quite as quickly as he did when Buck showed him the chickens with a shit eating grin on his face). Eddie and Buck help to build a massive vegetable garden which Bobby fills with herbs and vegetables and flowers. He wants a dog, but Athena won’t allow it cause 1. She’s allergic and 2. Hercules doesn’t like dogs apparently. So he gets two horses instead, a mare and a gentle old gelding and spends his days off riding the horses (he does hire someone to care for the horses when he can’t) and tending to his garden and cooking and he’s never felt quite so happy in his life. A lot of plaid begins to work it’s way into his wardrobe and when he gets the horses, Eddie brings him back a pair of cowboy boots and a Stetson from Texas, which he initially doesn’t wear but then Athena says he looks hot in them so he brings them out when he’s riding the horses. And no one minds the long drive to their new place cause it’s so perfect, they have the best cookout there and it’s clear that Athena and Bobby are the happiest they’ve been in years.

[ficfield]

One Hell of a Babymoon

Request: Imagine going on a babymoon with Chris and just going into labour, and they can't get to the hospital because of a storm or something >:)

Chris Redfield x Pregnant!Girlfriend 

I have a very silly part two to this, based off a TikTok I saw ages ago, its pretty funny, might upload that too, might not, we shall see.

enjoy ❤️

The fire crackled softly in the stone fireplace, throwing golden light across the rustic cabin’s interior. Rain pattered steadily against the windows, the kind of steady rhythm that normally lulled you to sleep. But not tonight. 

Because tonight, your daughter had apparently decided this was her grand entrance. 

You were doubled over on the cabin’s plush rug, gripping the couch arm with a while-knuckled death grip and panting through a contraction. Chris knelt beside you, sweat beading at his temple, not from the fireplace heat, but from pure panic. 

“This can’t be happening right now,” he muttered, frantically holding his phone, speaker mode on as 911 tried to guide him through the storm-frazzled signal. “We’re supposed to have two more weeks! You said two more weeks baby!” 

You shot him the dirtiest look a woman in labour could possibly conjure. 

“I also said I wanted pancakes this morning and you forgot! So we’re both liars now!”

Chris winced. “Okay, okay, fair-“

“Faire?! FAIR?! CHRIS REDFIELD I AM NEVER LETTING YOU NEAR ME AGAIN!” 

“ma’am,” the dispatcher’s calm voice cut in, “Let’s try to keep calm. Chris, do you see how far apart the contractions are?” 

Chris looked at you desperately. “Babe? How-how long since the last one?” 

You let out a loud, guttural groan and smacked his arm. “You literally timed it two minutes ago! Are your biceps blocking the blood from getting to your BRAIN?!”

Chris flinched, and the dispatcher muffled a laugh. “Okay, so we’re close Chris, I need you to get her into a safe position. Let’s try hands and knees-“ 

“I SWEAR TO GOD, IF YOU TELL ME TO GET ON MY HANDS AND KNEES-“ 

Chris paled. “Baby, please, they said-“ 

“THAT’S WHAT GOT ME IN THIS MESS IN THE FIRST PLACE!” you shrieked, half-laughing, half-crying as another contraction ripped through you. “You and your big stupid monster-UUUURRGHHH-“ 

He held your hand the best he could. “You’re doing amazing. Just breath, okay? You’re so strong. I’ve got you.” 

You whimpered, sweat pouring down your face, but somewhere through the chaos, his words wrapped around your heart like a blanket. Even if you wanted to throat-punch him right now, the man was your rock.

A few minutes later, the dispatcher said calmly, “Chris, you’re going to need to help deliver the baby. She’s crowning. You can do this. Just keep her calm and follow my lead.” 

“Crowning? She’s-holy shit. Oh god. Okay. Okay. I’ve fought B.O.W.s. I’ve survived bioterror attacks. I can do this. I can catch a baby.” 

You gritted your teeth. “She better not have your big ass head, Redfield.” 

Chris, visibly sweating bullets, took a breath. “Push, sweetheart. You got this.”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR BIG DICK,” you howled as you pushed, screaming through tears and laughter. “YOU’RE NEVER TOUCHING ME AGAIN!”

And then,

A cry filled the cabin. 

Loud. Beautiful. Earth-shattering.

Chris blinked as the weight of his newborn daughter settled in his hands, covered in a little mess but already trying to scream down the storm. 

“she-she’s here,” he whispered, voice cracking, eyes wide. “She’s-God, she’s perfect.” 

You collapsed back against the pillows Chris had stacked behind you, tears streaming down your face, chest heaving. “Let me see her…” 

Chris laid the baby on your bare chest, and the world went still. A full head of thick, dark brown hair. Just like her dad. Tiny fists waving like she had something to say already. Chris knelt beside you, burying his face in your shoulder, tears falling freely now. 

“I love you,” he whispered. “Both of you. You did good.” 

You sniffed, looking down at the tiny miracle between you. “You owe me so many pancakes. And probably a diamond.” 

Chris laughed through his tears. “I’ll buy you every pancake on earth.” 

Outside, the storm raged on. But inside, the world was calm. 

Warm.

Safe. 

Whole.

[girlkisser13]

hestia cabin headcanons

• logically, it would make sense for the unclaimed demigods to be in hestia’s cabin.

• a buddy system pairs new arrivals with experienced campers from the hestia cabin, helping them navigate camp life and adjust to their new environment.

• every camper regardless of being claimed are given a week in hestia's cabin to get used to camp. a reminder that they are all demigods warmed by the same hearth. they are all family.

• demigods get claimed faster when they’re in hestia’s cabin because she glares at her siblings, nieces and nephews until they claim them.

• hestia is happy that so many are finally feeling the comforts of home.

• her cabin has no counselor.

• instead, she appoints a chosen mortal with clear sight as her champion.

• this person acts as the cabin counselor.

• although they’re mortal, they exhibit enhanced empathy, a calming presence, and a natural talent for mediation and conflict resolution, gifts subtly bestowed by hestia.

• the champion also receives mentorship from hestia herself, often through dreams, visions, or quiet moments of reflection by the hearth.

• this guidance helps them navigate their responsibilities and grow into their role.

• the cabin frequently engages in community service projects around camp half-blood, such as maintaining gardens, repairing cabins, and organizing camp-wide events.

• hestia's champion often leads these initiatives, ensuring that everyone has a role and that the projects reflect the values of unity and care.

• in hermes’ cabin they would always be guests but in hestia’s cabin, they would be at home (at least until they get claimed).

• this ensures that EVERY demigod has a place to come home to.

cabin exterior

• the entrance to the hestia cabin is marked by a wide, welcoming porch with a set of double wooden doors, intricately carved with scenes of hestia and hearthfires.

• large, comfy rocking chairs and benches line the porch, providing a perfect spot for relaxing and socializing.

• the cabin is made of sturdy, warm-toned wood, giving it a rustic yet welcoming appearance.

• soft, golden lights are strung along the eaves and porch, creating a cozy glow that is especially inviting at night.

• they have hanging baskets filled with flowers and vines that add color and vibrancy to the cabin’s exterior.

• stone pathways connect the cabin to other parts of camp half-blood, with lanterns lining the paths to guide the way at night.

• the cabin's lighting, both inside and out, is designed to be soft and warm, creating a comforting and homely atmosphere.

cabin interior

• the walls are adorned with soft, earthy tones and wooden accents, creating a homey feel.

• a large, ornate fireplace sits at the heart of the cabin, always lit with a comforting fire that never goes out, providing warmth and light.

• the cabin has an open floor plan, allowing for easy movement and a sense of community among the cabin members.

• their beds are arranged in a semi-circle around the hearth, promoting a sense of unity and togetherness.

• each demigod has a personal trunk and a small, personalized nook with shelves and a pinboard for decorations and personal items.

• small altars and symbols dedicated to hestia are placed throughout the cabin, reminding the members of the goddess's presence and protection.

• fresh flowers and offerings are regularly placed on these altars, maintaining a connection to the goddess of the hearth.

cabin traditions

• every new unclaimed demigod is welcomed with a special ceremony involving a warm meal prepared by the existing members. this meal symbolizes the hearth and home that hestia represents. the new member is given a candle to light, representing their acceptance into the cabin.

• every sunday, the cabin hosts a communal meal where everyone participates in cooking. they use recipes passed down from their mortal families or create new ones together. it's a time for bonding and sharing different cultural heritages.

• they prepare care packages for demigods on quests or those who are struggling. these packages include homemade snacks, comforting items, and handwritten notes of encouragement.

divider by @plutism

[random-thoughts4u]

Moments

Tighnari part 1

Artist: Bunny

The summer breeze, warm and gentle, brushed your skin, carrying the sharp, clean scent of pine. Your gaze swept across the rustic landscape, a patchwork of weathered buildings stubbornly clinging to existence. It was as if the old buildings had their own will, keeping that fire of existing alive.  Walls, a rough mosaic of battered concrete and embedded rocks, encircled the town, creating a sense of isolated tranquility. The calming environment was something that brought you great peace.

Ghost towns, often portrayed as places of dread in stories, held a different allure here. Instead of fear, a strange, wistful familiarity – anemoia – settled over you, a longing for a time you never knew. Echoes of the past dance through your heart as your eyes sweep the area.

(E/C) eyes lingered on the dilapidated homes as you walked, your field journal pressed tightly against your chest, a tangible reminder of your purpose: to study the enigmatic sickness that had gripped this forgotten place.

The sudden crunch of dry leaves behind you snapped you from your reverie. You whirled around, pupils dilating in surprise, before settling on Tighnari. His fox ears twitched, a telltale sign of his amusement.

"Didn't peg you for the jumpy type," he remarked, a playful lilt in his voice. "Try to keep your focus. This place might seem peaceful, but appearances can be deceiving."

His tone shifted, becoming professional, laced with concern. He'd witnessed too many accidents, and as your mentor, he felt a responsibility to ensure your safety, especially when he sensed a shift in your demeanor. A Forest Watcher's duty extended beyond the trees; it was about safeguarding the people and understanding the afflictions of the land.

"Yes, I'll be more mindful," you replied, your voice tinged with a hint of apology. "It's just... I've never seen such an old town so remarkably preserved."

A subtle smirk played on Tighnari's lips. Pride swelled in his multicolored eyes as he surveyed the town, a flicker of contentment and admiration mingling in his gaze. He’d clearly nurtured this place for years. An unspoken bond existed between him and the town, a shared dedication to preserving life. You sensed his quiet satisfaction that you shared his appreciation.

The silence stretched, a shared moment of somber observation, before you both began combing through the ghost town. Hours blurred, yielding only fragmented clues. Abandoned medicine bottles, relics of ailments long vanquished, littered nearly every dwelling.

Faint traces of home remedies, whispers of desperate attempts to combat a virulent flu, lingered in the air. Yet, it wasn't the unsettling abundance of medicine that etched itself into your memory, but the sprawling graveyard. A silent city of weathered stones, punctuated by empty, moss-choked pits, where the earth reclaimed its own.

Though Tighnari tended to this forgotten place, time's relentless tide had eroded its vibrancy. The once-bustling town, now a husk of its former self, stood desolate. Ironically, the very sickness that had sealed its fate now drew curious eyes, fueling the quest for its hidden truths.

The setting sun painted the town in hues of gold, long shadows stretching from the skeletal trees. A wave of disappointment washed over you. The day was waning, and progress felt negligible. You sighed, fingers tracing through your hair, leaving streaks of dried mud. Clay clung stubbornly to your clothes, a testament to the town's tenacious grip. Broken leaves and mulch crunched beneath your feet as you approached the charred remnants of Tighnari's lunch fire.

He stood there, a radiant smile illuminating his features, his eyes shimmering with an inexplicable delight. A frown furrowed your brow. How could he be so content when the day felt so utterly wasted? Sensing your frustration, Tighnari's tail swayed gently as he approached. His gaze softened, noting your disheveled appearance. You looked as weary and forlorn as the town itself.

"What's that face? Feeling disheartened?" His tone was gentle, not mocking. The mystery of the town's demise was a crucial investigation for the Forest Watchers, a potential key to safeguarding Teyvat.

"A little," you admitted, your voice raspy. Tighnari's brow arched. He retrieved his canteen, offering it to you. "Hydration is paramount. You know that better than anyone." A blush warmed your cheeks as a familiar memory surfaced: Cyno carrying your dehydrated form through the desert.

Taking a sip, you couldn't mask the embarrassment that flickered across your face. Tighnari's eyes gleamed with amusement. He'd caught your unspoken recollection.

"Right on cue," he murmured, a smirk playing on his lips. "That accident." You rolled your eyes, handing back the canteen, earning a playful glare. "It wasn't an accident," you retorted. "We were already far out, and turning back seemed unnecessary."

Tighnari folded his arms, feigning a look of exaggerated pity. "Oh, of course. Returning for water would have been the worst." His smile widened. "It's not like we had to halt our entire expedition to ensure your safe return."

A flicker of annoyance pricked you. He was right, of course, and his knowing grin only amplified your chagrin. How did he always manage to be right?

"Yes, yes, I get it. I need to be prepared," you muttered, averting your gaze. Despite looking away, you felt his eyes lingering, a quiet understanding passing between you. These moments of shared camaraderie, even amidst serious investigations, held a unique serenity. It was a silent pact, a shared intimacy in the midst of the desolate landscape.

A spark of interest ignited in Tighnari's eyes, mirroring the unspoken thoughts in your own. Both of you, covered in the grime of the day, were a testament to how hard you worked.

[girl-next-door-writes]

Snowfall Serenade

Characters: Loki x reader

Summary: Best friends, winter magic, and a holiday resort straight out of a dream—will a week of snowy escapades spark something more?

Word Count: 1496 words

Prompts: Ski resort. Best friends to lovers. Wearing their clothes.

A/N: The fantastic @savvy-devine666 requested a little festive Loki and who am I to object?

The air was crisp and smelled of pine, the snow falling in thick, glittering flakes that coated the resort like powdered sugar on a gingerbread house. Christmas lights twinkled in the distance, casting a warm glow across the frosty landscape. You adjusted your scarf and rubbed your gloved hands together, staring up at the grandiose lodge that you and your best friend, Loki, would be calling home for the next week.

“This place looks like it belongs in a holiday movie,” you said, nudging him with your elbow.

Loki arched an eyebrow, his dark hair falling just shy of his shoulders, and gave you that trademark smirk that always seemed to hold some secret. “A bit over the top, isn’t it? All the glitz and glitter. Too festive for its own good.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “You say that, but I know you’ll be the first to steal the best seat by the fireplace.”

“Not if you claim it first, darling.” There was a teasing lilt to his voice, but you noticed the faint flush on his cheeks. Probably the cold, you thought. Definitely the cold.

The truth was, being here with Loki already felt like magic. After years of being inseparable friends, this trip had been your idea—a break from the chaos of life and a chance to finally relax. Loki had reluctantly agreed, muttering about “tourist traps” but secretly excited, as you’d caught him researching the best ski routes days before you left.

Inside the lodge, it was even more beautiful. A roaring fire crackled in the stone hearth, and the scent of mulled cider and cinnamon wafted through the air. Loki, ever the gentleman, helped you out of your coat and scarf, his touch lingering a moment longer than usual. You ignored the way your heart skipped at the gesture. This was Loki, your best friend. Nothing more.

“I’ll grab the key for our suite,” he said, his green eyes flicking toward the reception desk. “You find us some hot chocolate, perhaps?”

“On it,” you replied, grinning as you made your way to the cozy café corner.

When you reconvened, steaming mugs in hand, Loki led you to your shared suite. It was charming, with rustic wooden beams, a Christmas tree adorned with silver and green ornaments, and a balcony overlooking the snowy slopes.

“This is... nice,” Loki admitted, setting his bag down and glancing around.

“I knew you’d like it,” you teased. “It’s practically screaming your aesthetic.”

“I suppose it’s tolerable,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

The next few days were a whirlwind of winter activities. You dragged Loki to the slopes, where he proved to be a surprisingly graceful skier, despite his earlier complaints. You weren’t nearly as skilled, but Loki stayed by your side, catching you every time you wobbled.

“You’re doing splendidly,” he said after your fifth near-tumble.

“Liar,” you laughed, breathless. “You’re just saying that so I’ll keep humiliating myself.”

“Nonsense. I’m saying it because it’s true.” His voice softened, and for a moment, his gaze lingered on you, unguarded and vulnerable. Then he cleared his throat and turned away.

Nights were spent curled up by the fire, sipping cider or cocoa while playing cards or talking for hours. Loki seemed more relaxed than you’d ever seen him, the usual sharp edges of his sarcasm dulled by the holiday cheer. You found yourself watching him more often than you should, noting the way the firelight danced in his emerald eyes or the rare but genuine smiles that crossed his face.

You tried to shake it off. He was your best friend. Nothing more.

On Christmas Eve, the resort hosted a moonlit snowshoe hike. Loki was skeptical, but you convinced him with the promise of a quiet night under the stars. Bundled up in layers, you followed the group through a trail that wound around the forest. The snow sparkled under the full moon, and your breath puffed in white clouds in the frigid air.

Somewhere along the way, Loki fell behind the group, and you stayed with him.

“You’re brooding,” you teased as the two of you trudged through the snow.

“I am not,” he replied, his voice defensive but tinged with amusement. “I’m merely... thinking.”

“About?”

He hesitated, glancing at you briefly before looking away. “Nothing of consequence.”

You stopped walking and grabbed his arm, forcing him to face you. “Loki, what’s going on? You’ve been weird all day.”

He sighed, his breath visible in the cold air. “It’s nothing. Truly. I suppose I’m just not used to this sort of... festivity.”

“You mean fun?” you teased, earning a small chuckle from him.

“Yes, fine, fun,” he admitted. Then, softer, “I suppose I worry I’ll ruin it for you. I’m not exactly the ideal companion for such a cheerful holiday.”

“That’s ridiculous,” you said, stepping closer. “Loki, this trip wouldn’t be the same without you. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else.”

His eyes met yours, wide and vulnerable. He looked like he wanted to say something, but the words didn’t come. Instead, he gave a small nod, his lips quirking into a faint smile.

Later that night, back in the suite, you found yourself rifling through your bag for warmer socks. Loki had gone to take a shower, leaving his clothes draped over a chair. Without thinking, you grabbed his oversized sweater and pulled it on. It was soft and smelled like him—a mix of cedarwood and something you couldn’t quite place.

When he walked back into the room, his damp hair curling at the edges, he froze.

“Is that my sweater?” he asked, his voice somewhere between curious and flustered.

You looked down at yourself and grinned. “It’s mine now. It’s warm.”

Loki’s cheeks flushed, and he looked away, muttering something under his breath.

“What was that?” you asked, stepping closer.

“Nothing,” he said quickly, his gaze darting anywhere but you.

“Loki...”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I said you look lovely in it”

You blinked, startled by the sudden confession. A warmth spread through your chest, and before you could stop yourself, you smiled. “You did. And thank you.”

His eyes met yours, and for a moment, the air between you seemed to shift. He opened his mouth to say something, but then hesitated.

“What?” you prompted gently.

“Nothing. It’s... nothing.” But his tone was soft, almost wistful.

The next evening, Christmas night, the resort held a small gathering outside by the firepit. Guests milled about, sipping hot drinks and chatting. But you and Loki had wandered off, drawn to the quiet beauty of the moonlit slopes.

You stopped by a clearing, where the snow fell gently around you, the world bathed in silver light. Loki stood a few steps away, his hands tucked into his coat pockets, his expression thoughtful.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you asked, breaking the silence.

He turned to you, his green eyes catching the moonlight. “I was just thinking how odd it is that I’ve spent so much time resisting things like this. Happiness, connection. I’ve always thought they were... out of reach.”

“They’re not,” you said softly.

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the snow. “Perhaps not. But they’re frightening, nonetheless. To care for someone, to let them in... it’s a risk.”

“It’s worth it,” you replied, stepping closer.

Loki’s eyes met yours, and for a moment, he looked as if he might argue. But then his expression softened, and he reached out, his gloved hand brushing against yours.

“You make me believe that,” he said quietly, his eyes widening as he realised the words had escaped him. “Did I just say that out loud?” he chuckled sheepishly.

Your breath caught as he stepped closer, his gaze searching yours nervously. Snowflakes clung to his dark hair, and his cheeks were flushed from the cold. He looked impossibly beautiful, and your heart ached with the intensity of it.

“Loki...”

He leaned in, his forehead resting against yours. “Tell me to stop, and I will.”

You shook your head, your voice barely a whisper. “Don’t stop.”

His lips met yours, soft and tentative, as if he was afraid you might vanish. The world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of you, caught in the moonlight with snow falling around you. When he pulled back, his gaze searched yours, uncertain and vulnerable.

“Was that...” he began, his voice barely audible.

“Perfect,” you finished for him, a smile breaking across your face.

He let out a soft laugh, his tension melting away as he pulled you into his arms. For the first time, Loki looked at peace, his insecurities replaced by the quiet certainty of your presence.

And as the snow continued to fall, the two of you stood there, wrapped in each other and the magic of the moment, knowing that this Christmas had given you something far more precious than either of you could have imagined.