flamekthunder | { songerein: inbox }

You think something like that even exists around here?

[She pauses to take a step back, only far enough that she can look at him, and her lips pout with thought.]

But you're doing so much already. [For her, especially. How did she get so lucky again?] Let me help you with that, too. We can worry about that after we get the rest of the details finished with the place?

[Just a light smile.]

Investigating and researching was one of the many things I had to do, so it's not too difficult. I only plan to ask around if such a thing exists. I doubt I could make anything on my own.

[And his head is already thinking of where to ask, like the researchers at the Observatory.]

But we'll see what else we have as there will be quite a bit for us to do I'm sure.

[He knows Tifa will have her hands full with a lot for this, so asking something that would be more of a luxury should fall onto him so she can focus on more important matters.]

Mm. We'll figure it out someday, I'm sure.

[Whether it's where to find one or how to make one of their own, they'll find a way. They understand the gist of what it is they need, and it's a good enough starting point at least.

With a firm nod and a smile to match, she slips her arms away from him and steps back so that she can look around again, and she leads him towards the bar counter at the back again.]

But for now... I'm definitely going to need some new cookware.

[If she's going to be cooking for people, especially out in the open like this on the stove, then she wouldn't want to have some old stuff lying around. No, she wants it to be presentable, even if she figures that customers won't care as much as she does about that.

The next part has her cheeks flushing all over again.]

Some nice glasses and mugs, too. Some paper cups to go... Maybe with matching labels on them? Like the coasters?

[Although he always preferred when she was at his side, he fills the empty space by pulling his journal back towards him and starts writing again.]

That all sounds fine. Plates and bowls as well.

[Phew. Good thing they don't use actual money and can still barter or exchange services because this would be costly. It's a wonder Tifa managed to save enough to buy the bar in her world... Realizing this, Eustace can't help but think of her with newfound admiration and respect.

And then a slight tilt of his head in thought.]

I suppose we would also need to go boxes. Do you intend to sell any food as takeout or would it just be the drinks?

Oh...

[Her eyes go wide.]

I didn't think of that. It was never something I did back at Seventh Heaven, but...

[She spins around on her heel, hiding her face from him as she runs her fingers shyly over the counter.]

You think my cooking would be enough for people to want to take home...? I could do it. Bigger meals and things, even, if you think...

[...Cute.

He slowly walks over, a light grin playing at his lips.]

Of course. You won me over with your cooking didn't you?

[A light tease as he continues.]

Hmmm, on second thought maybe you shouldn't.

[And he stops right next to her, and hand against the counter as he leans towards her.]

I should keep that privilege.

[Can't let anyone else fall in love with her through her cooking!!

No, he's kidding, he's not that selfish.]

[She did, didn't she?

As he crowds her against the counter, Tifa can't help but smile, and she presses a hand to his chest, playfully trying to keep him from coming any closer. Of course, she won't win if he does.]

It was my homemade tomato soup, wasn't it?

[It feels like so long ago that she had gone knocking on his door with it, but that was also the same day that she had felt the very first hints of attraction towards him. The day she realized just how handsome he is and what that meant for her... And although the circumstances and reasons behind why she brought him that soup were not ideal, it's still an important memory for her.]

Worried that someone else might fall in love with me, too?

[He doesn't push in further...yet.]

Tomato soup in Avalon. A stir fry here.

[He of course remembers each vividly. The soup was for when he had been injured and they were still getting to know each other, yet she still made it with sincerity. The stir fry he counts as it happened before he had his memories... And it was that same night he realized his feelings for her. The sweetness of the flowers that had been inadvertently added he also now knows had been her own feelings for him at the time.

He lifts a hand to take some loose strands of her hand, threading it between his fingertips before lifting it to his lips, his eyes never leaving hers.]

But people are already doing that... I just don't need to give them anymore things of mine to covet.

[The gesture sends her blood rushing right up into her cheeks and even then, she can't steal her eyes away from him.

She remembers the stir fry she had made for him, too—the very first meal she ever cooked for him, and how she had no idea back then why her flowers had made it into the dish. Tifa had been foolishly oblivious at that point to her own feelings, but the world hadn't, and it was like it was trying to tell him the things that she couldn't. In some ways, she's glad now that it did, and the memory attracts a fond laugh from her.]

Well, you could always send a message. Make sure people know what's yours...

Hmm...

[He eyes her for a moment, a mischievous smirk playing on his lips as he leans in closer.]

Should I mark you every morning?

Edited 2023-01-11 19:43 (UTC)

[The giggle that gets out of her is so giddy that it's both surprising and incredibly embarrassing, though she doesn't flinch away when he leans in.]

No, silly.

[Except the glint in her eyes as she stares up at him through her thick lashes says something different, and she even reaches up to brush her hair back and away from her neck.]

I meant you order your very own house special. A meal made just for you.

[...... are they still talking about soups and stir fries?]

[He smirks at that.]

If I did that, this place would never open. You'd be too busy...

[His lips lower to her neck.]

...Keeping me satisfied. [A light nip.] And...

[At some point the journal had been set aside and both hands run down her sides to her hips before he presses his against hers.]

I intend to return the favor and keep you full, too.

[The nip on her skin and the pressure of his hips forces her to brace herself against the bar when she feels her knees buckle, and her body leaves her no choice but to tip her head back, her hair tumbling and fanning out across the counter like he's knocked over a bottle of her richest liqueur.]

With what, I wonder?

[Tifa bites down on her lip and lifts her head just enough that she can brush her nose against his.]

Do I get my own special, too? I do always enjoy your meals...

[Yeah. No one is talking about the food anymore.]

Yes.

[A low murmur against her skin before he lifts his head so that he can capture her lips with his own.]

Made only for you.

[And like always when it comes to them, everything is forgotten as his hands slip under shirt, fingertips sliding over her skin, his touch already hot and burning to feel her beneath him.]

[She's trying so, so hard not to fall too far to their whims, but it becomes more difficult the more his hands travel. She returns the favour, her own fingers sneaking under the hem of his shirt to press into his back, nails scratching gentle and loving lines the muscles along his waist as she returns the kiss with both enthusiasm and a careful amount of tenderness to it as well. Her leg lifts to wrap around his hip where she holds him to her with an iron grip while her elbows anchor her against the bar.

And only when she breaks her lips from his, her heart already racing, does she feel daring enough to meet his gaze.]

Already? We've only just barely gotten set up.

[She assumes he knows what she means...]

[With his fingers slipping around her back to play with the strap of her bra, he just grins as he stares down at her, that familiar heat already simmering in his gaze.]

Easier without anything around to get in the way.

[Of course if she actually didn't want to, he'd back off. ...It is true they came here to do actual work, not fool around.

—Really, how did he become so weak and lustful for this woman to the point that what started had simple teasing always brings them to this??? It's like they're living out one of her many erotica novels she tries to hide— He'd question it more if it weren't for the fact that Tifa is just as willing (and thirsty).]

[Well, she's not pushing him away, so that's a start—

If anything, she's shyly encouraging him as she bends just enough that she molds her hips against his, her leg pulling him closer to meet her.]

But is it more fun that way?

[As if she knows exactly what she's thinking—or maybe she does—something crosses her mind too...]

There was that one book I told you about, wasn't there? About the barmaid...?

[And recently.]

[If this is trying to dissuade him—it is not.]

Hmm...

[And of course he's not going to make it easy for her.]

You'll need to remind me again.

[And somehow do it while his lips leave hot trailing kisses, teeth nibbling her skin as he descends down her neck, that hand that had been fiddling with her bra now snapping it open as he grinds forward against her.]

[Who said anything about trying to dissuade him?

If anyone needs to be snapped out of it, it's Tifa as he trails kisses along her neck and frees her breasts beneath her shirt, or when he presses his hips more firmly against hers. There isn't much she can say at first besides the purr it all elicits from her, or the shy giggle that follows. She recalls that night in the dreamscape when she had shown him Seventh Heaven and made him a drink, and how they teased at the possibility of this... And then how she went and found herself a book that would help flesh out the fantasy a little more.

But she never thought it would happen so soon. Maybe she should have known better than to expect otherwise. Maybe she should have expected this today... and maybe she should have worn something a little nicer underneath her shirt for him.

Except this sudden spontaneity is part of the fun, isn't it? It's thrilling, and she can already feel the adrenaline pumping through her alongside the sparks of electric energy he presses into her skin with each kiss and mark he leaves behind.]

You don't remember...?

[It's proving incredibly difficult to string together or even comprehend the words that she wants to say, especially when he steals her breath away like this, but she tries to mask the tremble in her voice.]

Ten minutes before opening time... people waiting right outside... she tries to stay quiet, not to knock anything over on the counter or spill, but... [She's interrupted by a low, blissful sigh.] He doesn't let up or stop.

[He smirks as he recalls those words clearly. Of course he remembers—he hardly ever forgets anything she tells him. But he continues to feign ignorance, his hands freely roving over her back, hest, teasing her as he pulls her shirt down further from the inside to give his mouth more access to her skin.]

And?

[His question breathes over cleavage before his hands suddenly move down to her hips, deftly undoing the button of her pants before firmly grabbing her and lifting her up to sit on the counter. He looks up at her, his eyes reflecting the dark, heated, mischievous desires that don't bother to stay hidden.]

What did he do?

[It is very clear he is more than willing to live out that the fantasy they once played out in her dream, to let her have whatever she desires.

Should they???

Well he isn't really thinking about that.

This is their place now—her place. Whatever she wants, he'll give it to her. And let's face it, this is not going to be the first or last time—]

[Her lips part with a silent gasp when he lifts her and sets her down on the counter, and she's quick to hook her legs around his waist again to pull him to her. She uses his closeness to hide her face in the crook of his neck, the heat already rising up into it when he asks her to repeat what happened in the book... It's not as though it's anything as wicked as some of her other books, but a lot of it was certainly... interesting.

Something she would imagine herself in thoughts of with him...]

He did this... [Exactly what Eustace had just done—lifted his barmaid up on the counter so that she was brought to eye level with him.] And...

[Her own fingers work to lift his shirt further up, giving her easier access to the muscles stretching across his stomach, but although her hands are confident, her voice grows smaller and quieter the longer she goes on.]

Pinned her to the bar to... to have his way with her...?

[And they had spilled things, shattered glasses, all in the ten minutes that they had with each other... And even after all of that, left one another hungry for more. Left her silently begging him for the rest of the day as they worked together behind the bar as they exchanged glances, and snuck touches beneath the bar where no one could see...

Is it so bad to simply indulge in these sorts of thoughts?]

[There's a flash of amusement at her being "vague" and he debates on whether to try and pry out specifics. It's not as if he doesn't know—it's just that sadistic side of him that likes to see her so flustered and embarrassed, so shy in voicing her wants. Truly like a cute, little rabbit caught in the hungry snares of a wolf.]

Then...we'll need to get rid of this.

[He could have pulled down her pants before setting her up on the counter, but that had actually been his last effort of restraint. And now his hands tug down on the hem, exposing more of her hips as his fingers slip through the band of her underwear to tug it down.

This is really their—her last chance. The moment she lifts her hips to allow him to pull them down is the moment everything unravels and Tifa will get to live through one of her indulgent fantasies. And if that's what she truly wants in this moment, appropriateness be damned, he'll give it to her. It's just the two of them, and already their flowers are creeping up the walls and blanketing the windows like curtains, the once bright light that poured into the building now dimming. Vines are even wrapping around the door handle as if locking it, preventing anyone from stumbling in...and out.]

[Well. If this is the natural course of things, then how silly would she be to say no? How could she say no, with how he teases her like this? He knows all the right buttons to push, and he pushes them with such confidence that it's difficult for her to hold onto the already tattered edges of her restraint—especially when it comes to him. Tifa likes to think herself a controlled, mature, put-together, modest woman, but the moment she finds herself alone with him, Eustace finds a way to awaken the more wicked, sinful side of her that wants nothing else than to have his body on hers.

And right now, they are alone, and he is finding a way, and Tifa can no longer hold on. She wants to indulge. She wants him.

She lays back against the counter so that she may lift her hips for him, giving him the space he needs to tug her pants and underwear free. And as the flowers and their vines creep upward over the windows, they leave just the right amount of space to bathe her in sunlight, highlighting her pale skin and her curves and how her shirt clings to them when she lifts her hands up over her head. Her lashes flutter, and she puts on a coy smile as she looks down at him.]

... Like this?

[His eyes follow her every movement, eyes darkening along with the dimming light as he leans forward with a light smile.]

Perfect.

[A quiet praise before his lips fall on her exposed abdomen, lightly kissing the skin as his hands ever so slowly pull down her pants. As his mouth trails down, so do his hands until she's partly exposed. And just as his lips reach her navel, her pants and underwear almost halfway down her thighs—

There is a loud THUMP from upstairs followed by a clattering sound like wood tumbling over.]

Mm.

[She hums her own appraisal, and as his kisses start to gently graze over her skin, tickling and leaving trails of goosebumps and shivers behind, she already feels her anticipation building. That fiery coil within her begins to tighten, and she can feel her muscles rippling with warm pleasure under his lips, and her eagerness and excitement are too much that her nails begin to scrape and press crescent divots into the perfectly varnished wood of the counter, leaving behind marks for her to look back on and remember later.

Tifa purrs for him as he reaches closer, closer... her hips lifting eagerly off the counter again to urge him further, his name passing over her lips as she closes her eyes and tries to imagine them in a fully equipped bar, immersing herself in the feelings he provokes out of her body and that rush that comes from wondering what it this might be like in a more spontaneous, hurried setting... Where he would leave her craving more, sobbing on the counter as he left her to open the bar for the day. And then, they would spend those long hours distracted by one another, he would tease her, and she would do the same for him... Small touches, subtle grazes, sneaking kisses...

Until neither of them can take it any longer and she would close early so that they could finish what they'd started that morning.

The further her mind begins to spiral, the more eager her noises and her movements become, and she's about to voice her frustration and her plea when—

THUMP! CRASH! And then the sound of hurried footsteps.

Instead, her entire body starts with surprise at the sound, forcing her to immediately sit up on the counter and wrap her arms around his shoulders, and she chokes on a gasp.]

Wh-what was that!?

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