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adaelines · 1 year

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a smoker and his consequences

this is very self indulgent and wrote at 6am with a headache so pls forgive any mistakes, i jus wanted to write wolfwood secretly caring the absolute most

nicholas d. wolfwood x reader

gender neutral, only fluff! reader has headaches because of his smoking and wolfwood cares in an unexpected way.

No one ever mentions the headache that comes with knowing a smoker.

They mention the cough, one that burns your lungs like you were smoking yourself, and the smell that lingers on your clothes for days even after washing, but never the headache. Never the headache that makes itself at home behind your eyes, makes even keeping them open too painful to manage. The headache that makes nausea welcome itself in your stomach, making it hard to hold a conversation or even close your eyes for rest. Knowing a smoker is hard, which meant knowing him was hell.

Him being your close friend and the person you had sat next to all day, Nicholas D Wolfwood. Being susceptible to these headaches means knowing Wolfwood wasn’t easy. Not when he goes through at least one pack of smokes a day, not when he causes nearly as much damage to himself as he does you with his cigarettes. Despite the pain, the almost permanent headache you had around him, you couldn’t help but be fond of the man. He had been travelling with you for a while now, and saying he didn’t make you happy would be a lie. Despite the headache, and his brash attitude towards everything including life itself, you cared for him. He was attractive, someone you could rely on, and if it wasn’t for his damn smoking you would have made much more of an effort to act on said attraction. You were always happy to talk to him, even about the most mundane things, but it was hard to stay invested in conversation when constantly seemed to have a cigarette on hand, revitalising the pain in your head each time.

You had recently gotten to a small village in the middle of nowhere, decided now would be the best time of any to make sure the car was charged and prepared for the rest of your journey, make sure you all had food to last, and to get as much rest as you could before you set out again, either tomorrow or the day after, depending on the weather and how you all felt.The hostel had three rooms available for a decent price, three doubles that meant you’d all be able to get at least a decent sleep. Meryl and Milly would share a room, as would Vash and Wolfwood. With the odd amount of people in your party, you all took turns in who had a room to themselves, and you consider yourself lucky that this time it was your turn. The headache you had was raging, as a result of having to sit next to Wolfwood in the back of the car, and you really needed the rest. You knew that going to sleep this early wouldn’t be good for you, not when it meant you’d be awake in the middle of the night, but you really could not bring yourself to care. The pain between your eyebrows was only growing, and it showed in the way everyone was making conversation around you, and you couldn’t even bring yourself to join. Something that Meryl noticed quickly.

‘’Hey, you okay? You don’t look so good,’’ She spoke to you gently and quietly, knowing of your previous headaches.‘’If your head is hurting, you don’t need to join us for the supply run! You should go and rest whilst you can.’’

You let out a hum in response, returning the gentle smile she gave you with one of your own, and a small nod of your head. As you turned to walk up the stairs, you heard Vash jokingly mention his own ‘headache’, to which Meryl quickly swore at him and told him to shut up before she really did give him his own headache, to which Milly let out a loud (but not as loud as usual, she knew of your headache, and you really appreciated her in that moment) laugh. Despite the pain in your head, you couldn’t help the small, affectionate smile that came to your face. You really did care about all four of them so much, despite Wolfwood’s current out of character silence.

Whilst you walked away up to your room, away from the noise, you missed the furrow in his brow and frown on his face. He wasn’t stupid. Wasn’t the type of person to miss little things, so when your headaches only happened around him, only happened when he was either currently smoking or had recently smoked, it didn’t take him long to connect the dots and realise what was happening. It’s what caused him to currently have a strawberry lollipop in his mouth instead of his usual cig, despite currently craving one so bad he felt like he could strangle needle noggin’ if he so much as tried to comment on the unusual action he was taking. He sighed, walking out of the hostel and ignoring the yells of ‘’Hey, where are you going?!’’ and ‘’Dude, you were meant to help us pick up the food!’’. He had his own plan, one that he deemed more important than helping the others, even if it meant they were angry with him. He didn’t mind, he’d deal with the yells and any punishment. His current task was more important to him, you were more important to him, he’d deal with everything else after he did what he needed to do.

A few hours later, in the middle of the night, you awoke from your nap. Despite the time, despite the fact you were currently awake in the middle of the night and felt as if you were now wide awake, you finally had managed to get some good sleep. Enough good sleep that your headache was almost entirely gone, and that you felt hungry enough to try and eat something. Standing up slowly, trying to avoid the old floor creaking, you slowly shuffled over to your shoes and put them on. You really were thankful for your own room, you wouldn’t want to wake anyone else with your midnight cravings, not when they’d all worked so hard during the day whilst you slept. With a quiet sigh, you slowly made your way downstairs, listening out to make sure everyone else was asleep. You could hear Vash’s snoring, and the quieter snoring from Meryl and Milly’s room was enough for you to know they were all asleep. The fact everyone was sleeping soundly made you smile, and you were careful not to make too much noise as you went downstairs.

The last thing you were expecting when you got downstairs was Wolfwood waiting for you, sitting in a chair with his arms crossed and head leant forward. He was… asleep. Asleep with a paper bag in his lap and surprisingly, not smelling of smoke. Walking towards him quietly, you knelt next to him and placed a hand on his shoulder.

‘’Wolfwood…’’ Voice gentle, you didn’t want to wake him unpleasantly, not when he already did not look comfortable in his position. ‘’C’mon, wake up, it’ll be better if you sleep in bed.’’

His eyes opened slowly, blinking the sleep out of them and letting out a loud yawn. It took him a moment to realise what was going on, where he was and who woke him up, and he gave an unusually sheepish smile once he knew what was happening.

‘’Ah, damn, must have fallen asleep waitin’...’’ His voice was quiet, deep with sleep, and it shouldn’t have sounded as attractive as it did. He stretched his arms above him, before grabbing the paper bag and throwing it towards you, despite how close you actually were to him. ‘’Here, for you.’’

The paper bag was light, and you furrowed your eyebrows. He had never gotten you anything before, never waited in the middle of the night for you to wake up just so he could give you something. Glancing between him and the bag, you sighed quietly before opening it. If he was so kind as to get you something, you would absolutely appreciate it. It was… headache tablets. He had gotten you medicine for your headaches. You knew he was aware of your headaches, but you never thought he would go so far as to get you medicine, not when you were scarce in resources and you knew how expensive medicine could be.

‘’For y’r headaches… I’m not stupid. I know i make them worse.’’

Your eyes widened, and you quickly looked up at him. You didn’t expect to see him so… sheepish, shy even. He genuinely looked guilty. You would never blame him directly for your headaches, but knowing he was aware he didn’t help and would go so far as to try to fix that… that meant a lot to you. Enough that your eyes filled with tears, the fact he had been paying attention enough to notice and wanted to help… It meant a lot to you. You quickly brought your hands up, wiping away at your eyes and turning away from the man sitting in front of you.

‘’Aw, Jeez..’’ Muttering to himself as he moved to kneel on the floor with you, gently taking your face in his hands. ‘’’M sorry, i really didn't mean to make you cry.’’

‘’No, no…’’ You started, letting out a quiet laugh and leaning into his touch, ‘’I'm really happy. I didn’t… I didn't think you noticed. Let alone enough to do all of this..’’ arms referencing the medicine in your lap, you offered him a gentle smile. ‘’Thank you, Wolfwood, really.’’

Another surprise was the way that his face flushed at your words. He gently rubbed any tears away with his thumbs, offering another sheepish smile. The act of kindness wasn’t unexpected from him, but he was always discreet in showing the fact that he cared. Saying he was full and giving you the rest of his food when he hadn’t eaten much at all and could tell you were still hungry, purposely running late so you could bathe first and get the hot water whilst he would be left with lukewarm at best… He’d never been so upfront about how far his affection for you went, and it was obviously new to him as well. The flush on his face was sweet, he was embarrassed at the fact he was being so open about everything.

‘’Nicholas. And nah, don’t thank me…’’ a soft chuckle followed by a scoff, ‘’I caused you pain, this is the least i can do for you.’’

At his response, you brought your own hands up, mirroring the way he was holding your own face. You ran your thumb over his cheekbone, admiring him.In the dark dingy downstairs of the hostel, you could look at him closely. Usually, you weren’t alone with him, so your admiration was always a lot more secret, a lot more stolen glances and fantasising about him in your room at night. Being able to touch him like this, being so close to him with no interruptions and no one else around.. It was really, really nice. It was obvious Nicholas felt the same, if not by the affectionate look in his eyes then by the fact his hands had dropped to your shoulders, involuntarily moving you closer to him. It was almost by nature, the fact he wanted to be closer to you, wanted to be as close as he possibly could.

‘’Nicholas…’’ a quiet mutter, eyes glancing between his eyes and lips. He muttered your own name in response, his voice low and deep. In response to him glancing down at your own lips, you leaned forward to gently press your lips together, an intimate kiss.

And surprisingly, he only tasted of strawberries.

#trigun #trigun stampede #nicholas d. wolfwood #trigun x reader #wolfwood x reader #trigun stampede x reader

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luverofralts · 9 months

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Arkhelios Adventures

"So I know it's not much, but it's got great potential," Adrian said, gesturing to the lounge around them. "This would make a perfect club. It still has the lights installed from the previous owners. Wanda is offering some impressive rebates to anyone who promises to bring jobs and interest into Arkhelios. It's practically a steal at this price."

Roman looked around him at the pulsing lights and half empty bottles of beer. He'd never been one for the party scene, but charging an entry fee for a club sounded easier to make money quickly than painstakingly crafting an entire meal.

"It's worth going over with the accountant," he conceded. "I'm not sure if it's the right move, but it's a thought. I'll talk to Abe about it."

"Great. Let's break for lunch at that little sandwich shop in Pleasantview. We can review the twins' report cards while we eat. I want to make sure Luci is following the math curriculum well. Her last test was barely passing."

"And Rien's lack of social skills?" Roman suggested.

"That too," Adrian sighed. "Her twin sister can't stop socializing, but Rien doesn't seem to have the talent for it. I know my parents once said that Maura was a shy child. Maybe she can recommend me a resource she might have used. She's certainly charismatic now."

"You can certainly say that," Roman muttered to himself. Maura had no love for him, and she'd been very clear about what she'd do to him if he walked back into her life. Shy was the last thing he'd call Maura.

"Well, after lunch, go home and do wherever needs to be done," Adrian ordered. "Come into the restaurant for the dinner shift. I've got some ideas about how we can improve, but I want you to be surprised. It took quite a few calls to pull it off."

Roman raised an eyebrow, very curious as to the nature of this surprise. Adrian could be extremely thoughtful, but also very set in his ways. Spur of the moment surprises were his specialty, but he never veered too far from his comfort level. Once he had his mind set on something, it was hard to persuade Adrian on a different approach. He and Roman had had disagreements about how to run their business, and whatever this surprise was, Roman expected it to be the solution Adrian favoured.

"Okay," Roman agreed, seemingly powerless to do otherwise. "Let's go get lunch, I guess."

When Roman entered the kitchen that night, nothing seemed to be different. Tennyson was getting ready for the night rush and Dorian Hydes was washing up. They were loyal employees, who really seemed to like working with Roman. Dorian was about to head to college soon, but Roman wouldn't be surprised if he still took a shift now and then. The kid had a passion for food, just like Roman had at his age.

"Luci? Are you helping tonight?"

Roman whirled around to find his daughter washing her hands behind him.

"Yep, Dad asked if I wanted to and I said yes," she replied. "It's better than sitting with the babies."

If Adrian had brought Luci, her younger siblings were likely upstairs in the office playroom. Roman had a space by his office where he could drop the kids when he needed to have them at work with him. If Luci were here, then Rien, Saturnia, Fiolett and Abe Jr were likely there as well. Usually Adrian would take the kids off of Abe's hands when Abe needed a break from diapers and bottles, while Evren would take their two boys with him to work. He had childcare provided at the coven, and he wanted to get the boys in early classes if possible. Fiolett had started magic lessons on weekends and at school, but she seemed more content to follow Adrian around most of the time.

"Well, Luci, why don't you grate some cheese for me," Roman called. "You remember where we keep it, right? After that, you can help sort the cutlery."

Those were easy enough tasks that Roman felt confident leaving with his daughter. She did help at the restaurant from time to time, and she had certainly helped with dinner at home, so she had the necessary skills.

"Welcome! Can I show you a menu?"

Roman could hear Adrian outside the kitchen, charming guests and helping them get a table. They were down a server though, Adrian would probably be swamped with people, which would make irritated, hungry guests leave as they usually did.

"Bellamy Family Dining, how can I help you? For two people? Sure, I guess."

Roman thought he was hallucinating when he heard his son's familiar voice echo into the kitchen.

Theo? How? Could Theo actually be here, helping out? Adrian really did have a surprise. It's not just the younger kids, it's all of them!

"Let me get you seated in the VIP section, Your Highness. Thank you for joining us tonight, Evren simply can't stop talking about your ideas for the Arkhelios coven. You're an amazing leader. Your patronage is appreciated."

"Well, of course I had to come see this place for myself," Alicia warmly replied. "Your partner is a talented warlock, and frankly, a much needed breath of fresh air in Arkhelios. That Wanda. There's no way that she could make it in Strangetown with ideas like hers. Evren is a godsend."

Adrian smiled genuinely. He didn't need salesmanship to talk about Evren.

"Thanks, I think he's pretty great too."

"Hi, Mr Bellamy. Am I doing this right? What happens if I break a glass? Should I be wearing gloves?"

Roman turned around, hardly believing the voice he'd heard.

"Adam? What are you doing here? What's going on?"

The teen shrugged while Dorian snickered behind him.

"His Grace asked me to help out," Adam replied. "He talked to my parents and said that if Theo was a part of my family, then I was a part of his too, and family helps each other out. My parents agreed that I could help Theo at his job if I wanted and I get to keep my whole paycheck! If I had some spending money, I could afford to take Theo out on more dates."

"Uh huh."

Roman was baffled at the eagerness of the teen, but he couldn't fault the boy for his excitement. In fact, it was an admirable trait considering how Roman himself had been as a teenager. When he had to work in a bakery after his grandfather cut him off while at school, Roman had been miserable and angry. He felt entitled to the riches of his grandparents and peers without doing anything to deserve them. It probably had more to do with the proximity to Theo and the ability to impress him, but Adam's attitude was encouraging. Adrian had probably sold the Maricourts on something for this to happen, but Roman couldn't argue with results.

"What did His Grace tell you to do?" Roman asked. If this was part of Adrian's scheme, surely Adam had been assigned a role.

"Whatever you need," Adam boasted. "Though, I'm not a very good cook. If dishes are anything like cauldrons, I'm good at cleaning those."

Roman looked at the anxiety ridden teen and sorted through his options. No way would Adam be a good server with his nerves. Dishwasher and general support might be the best fit.

"Start with dishes and we'll work from there," he decided. "If you're here to work, then no slacking off with Theo on the clock. He doesn't have the...wisdom you seem to have, so you need to set an example."

Princess Alicia Toyonaga sipped her drink, watching the restaurant staff work the room. It wasn't a bad little place, probably because it had a man from Twikkii Island at the helm. Everything else in Arkhelios seemed to be chaotic and low class, so it was refreshing to see some actual service.

Her own daughter, Lexy, had been here for too long. She was beginning to enjoy this place and some of the people in it. If she hadn't moved into college last week, Alicia would have taken her daughter back to Strangetown. It was run by her hated father in law, but it at least had standards.

Still, Adrian had convinced her to hold her budget planning meeting at the restaurant. He was charming and even offered a discount if she brought more people of her station to the restaurant. Looking around, Alicia could see some of her coworkers at tables, as well as some others she recognized from Twikkii Island's royal court.

"Sorry! I didn't mean to drop that glass."

Adam mopped up juice and glass on the floor with embarrassment. It was only the second cup he'd dropped since starting his shift, but Roman hadn't seemed bothered by it. Considering how Theo's parents usually treated him, Adam was surprised to see Roman treat him with kindness and not suspicion.

"I'm meeting a business associate, not dining on my own, thank you. I'll have you know that Launce and I come to support this place quite often, you don't need to continue to rob me. Theo, did you book my usual table?"

Elaine stared at her grandson expectantly, while Theo ignored her in order to exaggerate his phone call. There was no way that he was going out of his way to serve his grandmother, who was at best apathetic to him. Let her seat herself, Theo was working.

"Hi, Theo. Is my table ready?"

Wanda burst through the doors of the restaurant with confidence. She was still the leader of Arkhelios after over a decade in office. She was a mother, leader, wife and witch. There wasn't a single thing she couldn't do if she put her mind to it, and right now, she was going to meet her husband for dinner date night and gorge on Roman's excellent cooking. With her busy schedule, it was difficult to have food ready at home, and she was supporting a local business and her nephew.

"Yeah, it's ready," Theo replied, checking his listings. "Go sit down and Tennyson will be with you shortly."

"Thanks."

"Grandma, you'll have to wait ten minutes, there's a birthday gathering that's just wrapping up. Sorry about the wait," Theo said with what could barely be called sympathy in his voice. "There's a waiting couch for old people in the hall."

"Spotless," Adam declared, holding up his cup as evidence. "This cup is cleaner than any cauldron will ever be. There's nothing to it."

"Good, now put it with the rest," Roman ordered, his attention focused completely on the meat he was cooking. "Start the next set. We're actually pretty busy tonight."

"This water isn't cold," Elaine remarked to her server. "Can't Roman afford to chill his drinks properly?"

"I can bring you another one," Dorian replied sympathetically. "It's just busy tonight, but I can absolutely fix your drink for you."

"You're Melvin's kid, right?" Elaine paused when the boy nodded. There was no benefit being rude to the police chief's son, when her true target was the head of the Bellamy family. "I'll tell you what. You can fix this if you bring this glass back filled with some vodka. Now."

"Adrian! What did you do? We can barely seat people fast enough tonight! You didn't make a demon deal, did you?" Roman teased as Adrian quickly popped into the kitchen to tighten a leaky sink that Adam had knocked into earlier.

"I only deal with one demon family, and they keep me busy enough," Adrian laughed. "No, I just talked to some people. And then some other people. And maybe a bit in the royal court. I may have offered a discount or two and greased some Maricourt palms. It's important that this place succeeds. I just told people how great it is."

"I'm sure that's all you did," Roman said skeptically, stirring the pot he was working with. "Like you've never done all that before. How did you get Adam here? His parents hate me and anything associated with me."

"Not as much as you'd think. It seems that the Maricourts have been doing some research on you and decided that there's some merit in keeping a friendly relationship with you. They came to me."

"They came to you?" Roman repeated. "What on earth have they read about me in the brief time since we last spoke? They knew about Dorhack and my mom last time, what else is there to know?"

"Something about getting to know the Bellamy family better," Adrian said with a casual shrug. "I didn't question it, you never do when the Maricourts are on your side for once. They have their own reasons and we're just expected to follow them."

A well-dressed redhead wandered into the restaurant, milling quietly around unnoticed. It wouldn't take long for the tiara to be noticed in a place like this, though.

Queen Maura II of Twikkii Island walked around busy tables, looking at the artwork on the walls.

Several pieces were pictures of Roman and his various family members, and others were clearly imported pictures from the mainland. She recognized a well-known Pleasantview warlock in one, but laughed when she saw the famous imagining of Hailee Evans. The woman was part myth as it was, and one local to what was now Crystal Cove. She had nothing to do with a restaurant in Arkhelios, except maybe letting visiting Crystal Cove residents feel more at home. Roman didn't have the intelligence or knowledge to try something like that, so it must have been Adrian's idea. They didn't exactly teach foreign deities in Arkhelios public schools, after all.

At least he hadn't borrowed from Twikkii Island's mythology- that she could see at least. The last thing she wanted was any trace of her family on Roman's walls. Sure, they were also Adrian's family, but a queen outranked a duke. It was Maura’s opinion that mattered here. Only her opinion.

"Your Majesty? Can I give you a menu?"

Adam approached the monarch cautiously, unsure if this was somehow a trap. Queens didn't just walk through restaurants unescorted or need to order from mediocre restaurants in foreign countries.

"Ah, you're the little warlock who loves my godson," she replied. "How nice to meet you. I will take a look at that, if you don't mind."

Adam warily handed Maura a menu and kicked Theo's foot to get his attention.

"Your godmother is here," he hissed. "Should I be worried? Is she about to arrest your dad for something? Why is she here?"

Theo shrugged, hanging up the phone. The same lady had been calling to make reservations every single hour they were open, only to change them again. Theo was convinced that this woman had nothing better to do with her time than irritate him. In his frustration, he'd completely missed their famous guest.

"Are you looking for a table for two?" Adam asked cautiously. "If your kids are coming too, we could probably accommodate them. We'd just need to move some tables around."

"Aunt Maura? Did you actually want to eat here? Don't you have personal chefs at home?"

"No, I think I've lost my appetite actually." She handed her menu back to Adam and smiled. "Adrian has improved this facility immeasurably, though not enough to entice me. Do send my regards to Roman though. Let him know that I stopped by."

The threat in her words hung heavy in the air. Adam tried not to show how nervous he was to have a queen glowering at him, but probably failed.

"That was weird," Adam noted, still somewhat stunned to see a monarch milling around an Arkhelios business like she had.

"Very weird," Theo agreed. "Maybe we shouldn't tell my dad about this. It's been a really successful night, and I'm sure the queen's appearance won't help his...everything."

"Deal."

#sims 2 #arkhelios #roman bellamy #sim: theo bellamy #theo bellamy #adam darktide #maura siew #wanda hydes

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forgave-me-not · 4 months

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WANT ME AS I WANT YOU ☆ CP10

On a quiet night, you realize all of your sentimentality and unrequited emotion may not have gone to waste. 1.6k words -- fluff/slight miscommunication/kissing -- i'm pretty sure that's it. enjoy!!

Everything is a bit too intimate with Christian. Sure, you've been best friends since you were five and have been living together for a while to save on the outrageous rent prices, but that doesn't negate the fact that things are very... domestic, romantic even.

Not that you mind. You love Christian with every fiber of your being; love him so much that you can't stand to look at him sometimes. You can't help but detest when he has a new girlfriend and talks about her nonstop, and all you can do is pretend to listen happily. But the times in between, the moments he puts his chin on your shoulder as you read at the kitchen counter or he runs to whisper something innocuous to you before a match, have you rethinking the basis of your relationship. 'He's just friendly,' 'We've known each other for so long, he wouldn't.' And yet, you have this gut feeling that he might, just might, like you too.

Things seem to always coincide perfectly to where you will always be together. He's in London for his football career, so your job just has to recommend you to a museum in the same cloudy cityscape (their idea, not yours). He calls it fate. You smile and nod. Whatever happens, happens.

The walk from the station to your shared apartment is neither long nor short; just enough time to sort out your thoughts and save face before you open the door. As you walk up the steps and dig through your bag, looking for your keys, the front door flies open. In front of you stands Christian's most recent lady friend, Victoria.

"Oh, hey, love," she says, clearing her throat. She's definitely been crying, you think to yourself. Eyes bleary, hands nervously wringing her blonde hair.

"Hey, Vic. Is everything alright? Here, come inside with me. It's too late to be standing around like this." You motion for her to turn around, but she sighs and shakes her head.

"No, no, I've gotta run," she says looking at the sky. Sweet girl's trying not to let any more tears fall. "You're too kind, though. Hey, you take care of him — yourself, too. I'll see ya round, I guess." And with that, she gives you a quick hug, zips her jacket to her chin, and rushes down the steps. You're left incredibly confused and slightly saddened by her departure.

The rest of the evening continues as usual. A bath is drawn, and you and Christian prepare dinner together, wash dishes side by side, and then sit on the couch to talk and watch TV.

You don't like to meddle in his romantic life, but he is your best friend, and you've always been too curious for your own good, so you quickly formulate a way to have this conversation.

"Chris," you start with a breath. "It seems to me that you're avoiding telling me why you broke things off with Victoria. I've gathered the how— it was quite easy, honestly; she seemed pretty upset when she bumped into me outside. But... you know I won't judge you, right?" You say this, not looking at him, instead focusing on the scenes of the show the two of you are watching. You make sure to say it gently, to not run him off. Even seventeen years of friendship can't stave off the worst of Christian's shyness.

He smiles and lets out a breath through his nose. "I'm not avoiding anything," he says matter-of-factly. "There's just not much to it. Victoria, she's nice. Like, super nice and sweet. But, she just... wasn't for me." Something in his voice tells you he wants to say more, but you don't press the matter. He looks at you with his big brown eyes as he says the last part, and it takes everything within you not to pounce on him right then and there, lay a thousand little kisses all over his face, and hold him all night long.

You look him over, almost like you're checking for cracks in his façade. "Whatever you say, hon," you tell him wryly. "I'm gonna go to my room now. Night." He quietly says good night and gives you a little wave. You wave back.

There's a faint knock on your door. "Come in, Chris," you call out as you set your book down. He lingers in the doorway, looking torn between whether he wants to come in or not. After a moment of contemplation, he crosses the threshold, wandering to the edge of your bed. You look up at him, waiting for him to speak. His eyes rake over your frame, and you've never seen someone turn red so fast. You're wearing your nice pajamas — a silken tank top and shorts —a gift from your mother years ago. In case you have a special friend over, she had said with a wink. He quickly averts his gaze, turning to look at the posters on your walls. You giggle slightly from his reaction and swing your body to face him.

"What is it, Chris?"

"May I," he asks, pointing to the space beside you.

"Be my guest." Your face is on fire, and you thank God that the moonlight streaming through the windows isn't on you. Christian slides onto the sheets and mirrors you, propping his head on his arm and tucking in his knees. He reaches over and plays with your fingers. He's nervous.

"New nail color?"

"There's no need to stall Christian." I'm right here. "But yeah, new color."

He smiles and takes a deep breath. "Well, I wanted to finish our conversation from earlier. You know, the one where I wasn't very open?"

"Hmm, let's see, the one where you wouldn't tell me the whole truth of why you let sweet Vic walk out like that?" He rolls his eyes and nods. "Yes, that's the one. But you have to promise to not flip or anything when I tell you."

You pause and mull over what he said for a minute, just wanting to make him squirm. "Yeah, alright."

Christian rolls over and stares at the ceiling, still fidgeting with your hand. "So there's this girl, right? And she's lovely. Drop-dead gorgeous, super intelligent. Hard-headed as hell, too."

Your throat tightens a little, but you nod and listen intently as he drones on and on.

"I don't even think she knows how much I think about her, you know? How I feel, how I sleep, and she's the only thing I see in my dreams."

"Christian, stop it" is what you want to say. "I can't handle this. Not tonight." You look at the hand enveloping yours. So delicate, you think. Why must he be so gentle and lovely when he hurts my feelings?

"You have no idea, do you?"

Ever so slowly, you lift your gaze and stare at him. "What are you talking about," you ask quietly. Christian smiles the hardest smile you've seen someone pull off at this hour. His energy is so blinding, in the most positive sense of the word.

"You. I'm talking about you, of course."

And just like that, your world is turned on its head. Maybe it was fate that got the two of you here; every failed relationship because neither of you could stop thinking about the other, the looks that lasted too long and lingered in your mind for days, the way he hugged you that much tighter before he had had to travel for a match.

Christian stops playing with your fingers and takes your face in his hands. You lean into his touch, and a lone tear escapes from the corner of your eye. He breathes in sharply as you chuckle.

"Me? You're really talking about little ole me?"

Your hands find themselves at his wrists. You lean back slightly and kiss his palm. His thumb strokes your cheek, and you could just vomit at the look of pure adoration on his face. For a second, you wished that everyone could be loved like this, a full love, one that transcends time and distance and confusion. But for once in your life, you decide to be selfish, to have something, someone special, and all for yourself.

"I really wanna kiss you right now," he whispers as blush creeps across his face.

"Then do it, Christian," you whisper back at him, your faces so close, your breaths and foreheads have melded into one. And Christian happily obliges.

He tastes like toothpaste and smells like aftershave, and you were so happy you thought you'd keel over and die while you kissed him. The kisses came soft and innocent at first, a sweet collision of lips and tongue before turning into a passionate whirlwind of teeth, spit, and emotion. Kisses that conveyed all the things you both wished you had said, wished you had done. The only reason the two of you finally stop is to fix the strap of your top and laugh about how intense you'd gotten. You lay back and close your eyes, content with where life has placed you. Christian looks down at you for a while, pupils blown, your hand running across your bitten lips. He smiles and descends on top of you, his head in the crook of your neck.

"Can I stay in here for the night," he mumbles.

"You could stay here forever, and I wouldn't mind. Not one bit."

#ava writes!!#christian pulisic #christian pulisic x reader #cp10 #christian pulisic imagine #ficlet #fluff #my writing #this is lowkey trash but I had fun #challengers brainrot has seeped into my brain if y'all couldn't tell

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starryarles · 2 years

Text

this is me complaining about the DAY i had yesterday ty

i had to wake up at 5 yesterday, i feel like shit, but i think "okay maybe ur just tired, just get to ur exam so you can get ur certificate", i need to go to the capital to attend my "exam" aka doing someones toes, i buy a ticket, i'm stupid and also tired so i buy a one-way ticket, i think fine, i'll just buy one back from there, it's just an extra 10 euros, i get on the bus at 7.35, it's supposed to leave at 7.45, it leaves at 7.55 for no reason other than to make me late, we go super slow, stopping at 3 places to pick up passengers, we stop at our neighbouring citys bus stop to pick up more people, despite the bus being PACKED, we stay at that bus station for 20 MINUTES. atp i'm feeling like SHIT. i have never felt this awful in so fuckin long, i just wanna curl up in a ball and cry, and i'm getting motion sick, we start again and this bus driver is going SO FUCKIN SLOW. we stop at another citys bus station, people get off, more people get on, we're there for another 20 MINUTES. MIND YOU USUALLY IT'S 5 MINS, IT NEVER TAKES THIS LONG. we start again, we're using the old highway, that takes much longer than the new one, we get stuck in the paytoll because some tour busses went in the mtag lane instead of the cash lane, FOR ANOTHER 15 MINUTES. my god. at this point i can't even fall asleep anymore i feel so sick, i need to throw up, i just put my hand over my mouth and pray. we finally start again. MIND YOU. it's been an hour at this point. usually i'm in the capital by that point, no, this time we're a little less than halfway there, i contemplate just asking them to drop me off on the side of the road and calling a cab from literally anywhere, i didn't care abou the price at that point, i tough it out, we finally make it to the capital, it is 9.45 at this point. 2 whole hours. he makes 4627385 stops along the way of people who ask him if they can drop them off anywhere, he is such a sweet old man but at that moment in time i was sitting behind him and it looked so easy to just reach over and put my hands around his neck. we finally stop at the bus stop at 10. 2 hours and 15 minutes of hell. i need to go to the bathroom and i need to throw up all at the same time. i am in hell, i am not going anywhere near the bathrooms in the railway station in the capital, there are bacteria not found anywhere else on earth in there, there is a mall only a 5 minute walk away from the railway station and their bathrooms are clean. i sprint. my knee and ligaments have been killing me the past week, i don't care, i make it to the mall in 2 minutes, i make it to the bathrooms and at 10 am the mall is empty, i have never been more thankful, i puke and proceed to sit on the toilet for 10 minutes, it is now 10.15, did i mention that my exam was at 10?? i clean up, i wash my hands, i notice in my frantoc state i had put my bag down in a puddle on the floor, my bag has soaked up a puddle of which i can only hope is water from a mop, i spend another 10 minutes drying my bag, somehow i haven't cried yet, did i mention the salon is a 30 minute walk from the mall?? i get there at exactly 10.30. my dignity is nowhere to be found, i'm shaking as i'm about to do this womans toes, they think i'm nervous, i'm concentrating not to throw up on her feet, i finish, they say i can start working, i call my dad to come pick me up because i am not getting on another bus ever again. he takes an hour and 10 minutes to get there, in the meantime i walk around the same mall where i threw up that morning, i buy a few things, i buy a little christmas bear for the car as a gift to my dad, the entire time in the store i'm concertating so hard not to pass out or throw up, my dad picks me up and gets me home in about an hour, i have never been more thankful for this man, now summary, i have a sinus infection on my left side and a very slight fever, i am never taking that bus again and am never taking a morning appointment in a different city ever again.

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joomma · 2 years

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Let’s Face It I Was Crazy Before The Cats Ugly Christmas Sweater

As someone who usually doesn’t get gifts and has a hard time getting and Let’s Face It I Was Crazy Before The Cats Ugly Christmas Sweater receiving them and finding what I want, it helps when there’s is secret santa stuff. So I helped out by participating and got picked to give a gift to this nice girl I knew. On the day of gift giving, as it was a surprise, I tapped her on the shoulder as she turned around, putting the gift in her hand in a smooth motion. It was one of the things on her wish list. Stunned in a good way, she said “thank you!” After saying my name. A minute later, a person I didn’t know as well, gave me a gift. I’ve never really celebrated it outside my family, and didn’t think I would get one. It was neat, and a very nice surprise, as we didn’t associate much with each other. I thanked her, and then again more than twenty minutes later as class ended. But the kicker: it was lunch time, and I was going to the bathroom, as per usual. Then this other person I know, a lot better, and am better pals with but don’t always get to hang out, but find much in common, called me over. I waited patiently to see what it was all about. We never really hung out at lunch, and last time she had asked me a question, so I had answered her. Our relationship wasn’t bad.

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clouditae · 3 years

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Slow. Dirty. Wet.

banner maker: @joheunsaram

word: 5.5k

part of the hot boy summer collab

When Seokjin stops by your convenience store to buy his typical snacks, he’s such a friendly and funny person. When you stop by the beta tau sigma’s car wash, he’s a completely different person, and inside the office of that car wash, he shows you how different he really is

“Good morning, Y/N,” Seokjin says, the bell ringing as he opens the door, the bell ringing once more as the door closes behind him. “Having a good morning I hope,” he adds, smiling his typical huge smile as he walks down the second aisle where his favorite bag of chips will be. He usually stands in front of the variety of chips looking, as if he’s deciding on which one he wants the most when he always chooses the same one.

You check the time on the computer screen in front of you; fifteen past eleven. “Good morning,” you reply, eyes traveling back to him as he makes his way to the back of the store for his Sprite.

He makes his way over towards you at the front, eyes scanning other foods he might want to buy as well. As usual, he takes nothing and stops in front of the counter, placing his items in front of you. You grab the chips first, showing the barcode to the scanner, hearing a beep before going for the Sprite.

“Easy day?” he asks, fishing in his pocket for his wallet most likely.

“So far,” you answer, handing him back his snacks for the day. You tell him the price and add, “Heading to class?”

He gives a happy smile as he replies, “Got canceled, so I’m heading towards the carwash.”

You frown in confusion, opening the cash register to put the money in. “Carwash?”

It’s his turn to frown. “You haven’t heard? My frat is having a carwash to keep our philanthropy alive.” Seokjin shrugs. “Seven good looking guys washing your car? Win-win situation for all.”

You can’t help but laugh. The Beta Tau Sigma is very well known at the university; very popular with everyone. You either want to be them, or you want to be with them. Some just want to have sex with them. Overall, they’re like the popular boys in high school, and you just happen to see one of them almost every day when he comes into the little convenient store to buy his chips and sprite at exactly fifteen past eleven.

You’re not going to deny the fact that he is very good looking—you see what everyone is talking about. His tall figure, charming smile, and dark chocolate eyes that can make you feel all types of things. When he squints his eyes just a bit, tilting his head as he listens to you talk, it makes you want him. It’s strange to you if you’re being honest. Seokjin is such a kind, friendly person, so the fact that just a simple gesture—which is meant to be friendly—makes you want him is just ridiculous.

He’s a nice person. That’s all you need to know. “Good luck on your carwash,” you comment.

He opens his mouth then closes it before finally answering, “Thanks. See you later!” And with that, he grabs his items and exits the store.

When you see him again, it’s a few days later. You didn’t have to come in to work for a few days, so you haven’t seen Seokjin around. You don’t even see him on campus, so you only see him when you’re working.

He enters the store and walks straight up to you rather than go towards the back to grab his usual. He stops in front of the counter and looks at you with such determined eyes it catches you off guard. You’ve never seen this look before. What is he going to say? Did you do something wrong the last time you two saw one another?

“Would you like to go out on a date one day?” he suddenly asks, definitely catching you off guard this time.

It’s silent between the two of you for a moment before you reply, “What?”

He shifts his weight from one foot to the other, eyes looking at anything but you now. “Do you wanna go on a date?”

You open your mouth to respond, but your head is still processing his words. “You want to go on a date… with me?” You thought that your reply would be more of a statement rather than a question, but you can hear it as clear as day that you’re questioning his choice as if you’re the worst option out of the list.

Not the best thought, but in this moment, your thoughts went straight to the negative.

And it seems Seokjin is just as confused as you are because he frowns and says, “Why did you say it like that?”

You shrug in response. “It’s just... I never thought that someone like you would want to go on a date with me. We’re basically strangers and I’m sure there are a lot of other people who have similar interests as you, as well as know them.”

“I know you and I have different tastes, and we only see each other here, but I would like to take you out on a date and get to know you more,” he tells you, basically throwing your comment out the window. A statement that tells you that no matter the difference, there’s always a chance that opposites attract. “So, what do you say? Would you like to go out some time?” he finishes.

You’re silent for a moment, a debate going on in your head as to whether he’s serious or not. If you want to go on a date with him or not. Should you? Do you? You can’t deny that it’s a hard decision. On one hand, you can’t deny there’s a small attraction to him, and on the other hand, you don’t know him really well. At all, really, but almost everyone who dates doesn't know each other in the beginning. That’s the whole point in finding “the one”.

“Sure,” you finally answer, heat rising on your cheeks as he smiles brightly at you.

“Great,” he begins, “how about this Friday? I’ll pick you up at your dorm building?”

“Okay. Friday.”

“Seven?” he asks.

“Seven,” you confirm, giving him a single nod.

Seokjin doesn’t go to the back to grab his usual items. He simply waves and leaves the store. When you see him again, it’s three days later when he comes to pick you up for your date. You spent almost the whole day trying to find the perfect outfit. Eventually, after much debate, you choose a rose colored shirt and light blue jeans. Looks cute, but also looks casual so you’re not overdoing it in case he’s not looking for something too fancy.

Quickly slipping on your shoes, you grab your bag, phone and keys, and leave your dorm room, speed walking down the hall and towards the exit door. When you step outside, you’re immediately met with Seokjin.

He greets you with a smile, and butterflies erupt in your stomach. You’re honestly surprised by the feeling. You’ve never felt a feeling like this before with him. Maybe you just never noticed? It’s hard to not notice a fluttering feeling in your stomach, or your heart beating so fast that it worries you. But right now you’re going to ignore all these lingering questions because you just want to experience this date to its fullest. You honestly want to experience all the rumors you hear when it comes to going on a date with Seokjin.

There are tons of rumors: Seokjin is such a romantic. Seokjin is so polite and funny. Seokjin is such a sweet lover in bed—then there’s rumors about him being so rough and dominating in bed that those rumors are so hard to believe. He’s not that type of guy.

But you want to see everything the rumors say about him.

“You look amazing,” he says, sticking his arm out towards you.

You can’t stop the smile growing on your lips as you reply, “Thank you. You look amazing, too.” He’s wearing black pants with a white shirt tucked in, black derby shoes and a midnight blue coat that stops at the middle of his thigh. His light brown hair parting more at the side rather than the middle. He looks like a model.

He chuckles. “Thank you.” Looping your arm through his, he leads you towards the parking lot where his car is waiting. “I’m excited for our date,” he confesses, side eyeing you with what seems like a light blush crossing his cheeks.

You can’t help but shyly smile as you agree, “So am I.”

“First I’m taking you to this amazing place for dinner…”

The first date was absolutely amazing. It’s everything you could have imagined, and everything the rumors said about him. He’s such a gentleman and such a romantic, so when he asked you out for a second date, you agreed almost immediately. He laughed at how quick your answer was and you felt so embarrassed, but you had your second date and your third.

“You should tell your friends about our carwash,” Seokjin tells you as he places his usual chips and drink on the counter for you to scan.

“Tomorrow’s your last day right?” you ask him, taking the items and scanning it.

“Yup. We’ve been doing really well with raising money, but we’re trying to get as many people as we can to come by. We need as much money as we can for our philanthropy.”

You nod, handing back his items as he hands you the exact change. “I’ll let them know,” you tell him, opening the cash register to place the money inside.

“You can come by, too, if you want,” he begins, your eyes traveling up to him as you close the register, his eyes looking down at his items, “We have two types of treatments for your car. They'll do the fast, clean and dry way, but for you"—he looks over towards you, eyes dark and tempting—"I'll be doing the slow, dirty and wet treatment in the office.” You’re blushing immensely, heart racing at an alarming speed, and Seokjin only shrugs at your response. “After our last date, I can’t help but offer more than what we did that day.”

On your last date, a simple kiss led to more than that, but it never got to what he’s offering. However, you can’t deny that the kiss was very hot and heavy. When the two of you broke apart, you wanted more. You didn’t want to stop.

That was the crazy part for you. You wanted more.

“That was too soon,” he says, interrupting your thoughts. “Sorry about that—just ignore what I said. I’ll see you later, okay?” Tucking his drink under his armpit, Seokjin gives you a quick smile and leaves the store, never giving you a chance to answer him. You can’t help but sigh in relief because you’re not sure what answer you’d give him. So, you continue your day with a few questions lingering in the air.

A few more hours go by when you’re finally done for the day. You gather all your belongings, say goodbye to your coworker, and head towards your car. Checking the time on your phone, you conclude that you have an hour and a half to go to your dorm, do a quick change, and meet with your friends at The Aeries for some dinner and a drink or two.

So although you shouldn’t have, you sped home in order to take a quick shower and change and sped to the restaurant to make it in time. You made it to the restaurant with two minutes to spare. You won’t do anything like that again. Your car isn’t strong enough to be speeding the streets.

Entering the restaurant, you tell the host who you’re looking for and follow him towards the back of the restaurant where your friends are waiting. They greet you with smiles and hugs as you take a seat and place your bag next to you between you and your friend Nora in the booth.

“So, Y/N,” Nora begins, your attention on her, “are you two a couple yet?”

“What?”

“You and Seokjin. Are you a thing or what?” your friend Ella tells you with excitement in her tone.

“We just went on a few dates,” you tell them, feeling flustered with their eyes on you.

“Oh please. There’s no way you two aren’t a couple yet. He confesses he likes you and you obviously like him. What’s there to think about?” Cal tells you, his head shaking in disbelief at your answer.

“What makes you think I like him?” you ask. It’s only recently that you’re realizing that you’re reacting differently around him.

“Ever since you met him your eyes would light up at the sight of him. You smile so damn big—you’re like a love sick puppy,” Ella answers, leaning back in her seat, arms crossing over her chest.

“I do not,” you argue.

“You do,” they all say, pushing your argument down real quick.

“If you never noticed how much you’re into him, then you’re blind as hell.”

You want to argue back, but remain silent. For some reason, you feel like they’re right. Like your expression does change when he enters the store; it’s just you’re too blinded by him that you don’t even notice your demeanor changing. Giving up is the best option, so you change the subject and thankfully your friends don’t bring up your relationship with Seokjin.

The four of you exit the restaurant, chatting about what plans you have for the weekend when Seokjin’s words come back to mind. “Oh, right,” you begin, your friends stopping in their tracks as they look back towards you, “Seokjin’s frat is having their last carwash tomorrow. He’s hoping you guys go get your cars washed. The entire frat will be there, so you’ll be entertained while your car is being washed.”

“Oh, hell yeah I’ll be there,” Cal jests, a huge smile on his face as he claps his hands in glee. “Hot guys washing my car with nothing but some loose shorts? You should have told me about it earlier. I would have gotten my car dirty everyday if it meant I got to see that view.”

You all laugh at Cal’s comment. “I might go too, but you should go, Y/N. Seokjin will be there, and that means you’ll get to see him half naked.” Nora winks at you, and your friends laugh at most likely your shocked reaction.

“I don’t think I’m gonna go. My car isn’t even dirty, plus water leaks in when it gets washed,” you tell them. There’s no way you can take your car.

You’re here, and the line is long.

There are so many cars waiting to be washed it’s absolutely amazing how many people there are. There’s no way they haven’t reached their money goal yet—you can bet they made more than they need.

Pulling your phone out of your pocket you open the group message you share with your friends. You type away when you notice they’re not here yet.

[Monday, August 30th, 1:37pm] You: Where are you guys?

You hit send and wait for a response, eyes scanning the area once more just in case you passed over them and didn’t notice. As your eyes scan the crowd of guys washing cars, some girls sitting outside their cars to watch the guys wash their cars, and even some familiar faces. Mainly the original seven… well minus Seokjin. You don’t see him anywhere. But before you can look any further for him, your phone chimes.

[Monday, August 30th, 1:39pm] Cal: I got my car washed earlier. Haru asked me out on a date ;)

[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Ella: I’m gonna be a few minutes late! Had to finish my essay

[Monday, August 30th, 1:40pm] Nora: Same!!

You give a quick understanding response before heading back to your car. You’ll just wait for them to get here so you can get your cars washed together. You don’t get close to your car when you hear Seokjin’s voice call out to you. Stopping in your tracks, you turn around to see him making his way over to you. He’s smiling at you, his hair pushed back by sweat and water. He’s wearing a loose gray tank top with a sunset in the middle, black swim trunks and sandals. His arms are toned, sweat or water slowly sliding down—glistening in the sunlight. Your heart is racing, your body getting warmer than the sun is already making it. This is bad.

“You made it,” he says when he’s within earshot. “It’ll be a while before we wash your car, so I hope you don’t mind waiting.” He raises his hand to scratch the back of his head, his arm flexing as he does so. “We’ll be as quick as we can—”

“That other option,” you interrupt, “is it still available?” You feel so embarrassed for saying that, but with the way he’s flexing his arms, the outfit, the sweat glistening! You can’t help yourself. You want to touch him, feel him—

“It is,” he tells you, voice low and husky. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a key. He hands it over to you and you take it in confusion. “If you keep going forward you’ll find an office. Wait for me there.”

A chill runs down your spine as you nod, heading towards the direction Seokjin told you. You pass the lines of cars and people, the little building in sight. As you get closer, a somewhat familiar face appears before you. It’s Taehyung.

“Y/N right?” You nod in response. Taehyung holds out his hand towards you. “I’m gonna need your car keys for when it’s your turn.”

“Oh. Right,” you mumble, handing him your keys. “The top side passenger side windshield needs to have a towel pressed against it on the inside otherwise water leaks through when washing the car,” you say.

“Got it. Upper right corner.” With that, Taehyung walks away and towards a car currently being dried.

You turn your attention back to the building and walk towards it. You put the key in the hole and turn it, the door unlocking. Opening the door you enter inside, the door closing behind you. The room is dusty with only a desk, chair and small lamp to the right while a rather big couch is to the left of the room. Across from you is a window but the black curtains are blocking the sun from entering the room.

You step further into the room unsure of where to be at, but before you can even decide whether to stand or sit, the door behind you opens, sun spilling into the room before disappearing as the door shuts close. You hear the door locking as you turn around and see Seokjin.

His entire demeanor has changed. He stands with confidence, a dominating aura surrounds him. Your body tingles with excitement and nervousness. He walks up to you, holding up a piece of fabric in his hand. “Turn around,” he says, and your body turns on its own. As if Seokjin’s words have magic to them, controlling you. He covers your eyes and ties a small knot at the back of your head. All you see now is darkness. “Hands behind your back.” Again, you do as told and you feel what you think is rope being wrapped around your wrists, tying your hands together.

He says nothing more and you wonder what he’s going to do next, but you take in a sharp breath when you feel his teeth against the skin of your neck. He licks the sensitive area, one hand collecting your hair. You can’t help but tilt your head back to give him more access. Not being able to see what he’s doing makes everything feel ten times better. Your sense of touch heightened.

After a few more seconds, he finally stops, letting your hair go only to grab on to your arm and slowly guide you somewhere. You take several, cautious steps before he spins you around, your back to him. You hear like a rustling sound but you can’t tell what it is. You moved to the left you believe, so you must be at the couch, and you’re right when you feel Seokjin’s hands on your hips, guiding you to sit basically at the edge of the couch, in between his legs.

He leans you back against his chest, spreading your legs as wide as you can. You can feel his hands travel up from your legs to the buttons of your shorts. He unbuttons and unzips your shorts but doesn’t push them down. Instead, his hand slips in your underwear and between your lips. You let out a sigh, resting your head against his shoulder. His fingers move up and down between your lips, rubbing small circles on your bud every now and then.

The build up is slow. He doesn’t work his fingers fast to get you closer, and it makes you feel impatient. You want to feel his fingers inside you—you want to feel him inside you. When his fingers rub against your bud again, a small moan escapes your mouth. Your body is finally enjoying the pleasure he’s giving, and you want more of it.

You spread your legs wider, trying to give him as much access as you possibly can, but your shorts make it hard for his hand to move freely. However, it doesn’t seem to bother him all that much. His diligent fingers work with ease in your restricted shorts, pinching your bean, rubbing it and spreading your lips for his finger to tease your entrance. You’re moaning more and more the closer you get to coming. You’re close and he knows it.

“Seokjin,” you cry, chest heaving, hips moving along his fingers.

But he stops. He removes his fingers from your core and gets to his feet, forcing you to do the same. “Turn around,” he commands, waiting for you to do so. You do as told and you feel his hands at your shirt, unbuttoning your blouse one button at a time. When your blouse is unbuttoned he asks, “Is this your favorite bra?”

“No,” you whisper.

You feel his fingers grab a hold of your strap before a cold object touches your skin and then there’s a pull. One strap is no longer there. You realize he used a knife to cut it. He cuts the second strap before you feel his hands at the clasps of your bra. He unclasps them and removes your bra completely from you. A little off into the distance you can hear it hit the floor. You hear another sound, this one closer; like air was pushed out of something. That can only mean Seokjin sat back down on the couch.

And you’re right when he tells you, “On your knees.” You slowly lower to your knees, your left knee bumping against his foot. “All right, baby. Open your mouth and come forward.” The word “baby” sends a tingle throughout your body. You lean your body forward a bit, your mouth opening waiting for something. Seokjin grabs your face by your chin, your heart racing as you feel something warm and hard brush against your lips. “Suck me dry, baby.”

You stick your tongue out, feeling the skin of his shaft. You don’t hesitate to take him fully in your mouth, his tip hitting the back of your throat. You hear him sigh as you bring your head back up, his tip the only thing in your mouth. Your head goes back down, your tongue swirling as you do so and you hear him groan. You continue your movements for a while, hearing him moan every time he’s fully inside your mouth. “Fuck baby, you take me so well.” He gathers your hair in his hand, holding it tightly as he pulls it back, stopping you from moving. “I can’t wait to fuck you,” he tells you, guiding you back down. He pushes your head further than what you did. Your nose touches his abdomen and you gag a bit as he keeps you there. “I want to hear you scream my name when I fuck you. I want to hear you beg me to go faster, harder.”

He pulls your head back up and you gasp for air. You take in as much air as possible before he’s pushing you back down. “Your mouth is so warm. I could fuck your mouth all day.” When he brings your head back up, he keeps you there and thrusts his hips. You’re gagging every time he hits the back of your throat, but you want more. Your body is tingling with excitement at the sounds you’re making. The sounds he’s making. You can’t help but rub your thighs together, wanting to feel some sort of friction between your legs. “Your tits bounce so nicely, baby girl.” You want to see him. You want to see his expression, the pleasure you’re giving him. “I need to fuck your tits, baby.” He pulls out of your mouth completely, letting your hair go as he does so.

You can hear him moving around before his hand takes a hold of your arm and lifts you to your feet. You let him guide your body to whatever position he wants. He lies you on the couch, your arms in a slightly uncomfortable position, but you don’t care. You want to hear his moans again. You feel a dip on one side of your body, right between you and the back cushion. Seokjin grabs your breasts, pushing them together before he places his penis between them. You hear him spit and you feel warmth fall on your inner left breast, sliding between his shaft and your breast.

He begins his thrusts, and they’re not slow. He’s thrusting between your boobs like he would if he were inside you. He’s fast and has a quick rhythm. You lower your chin close to your chest and open your mouth. Seokjin takes the hint and brings himself closer, his tip barely entering your mouth when he thrusts forward. He’s cursing loud and thrusting hard. You’re honestly hoping it’ll leave bruises between your breasts. A mark of this night. A mark of a day you want to experience everyday.

They were right. Seokjin is a dominant man. Anything he says, you must follow. There are no ifs, ands or buts with him, and you absolutely love it. However hard he is with you know, you hope the next time he’s even harder with you. You want a few bruises on your body from his touch. You want red markings on your ass cheeks from him slapping it. You want to tell him all these things, but is it too early? Will he not be into that kind of roughness?

“Fuck. Open your mouth wide, I want you to taste and swallow me,” he grunts, giving you only a few seconds to open your mouth big enough for him to enter. He deep throats you hard, the sound of his hand gripping the leather armrest invades your right ear. He moans loudly, no rhythm to his thrusts as tears prick your eyes. Your legs are rubbing together faster, wanting to feel more pleasure as he goes rigid and still. You feel his warm seed run along your tongue, building up in your mouth as he pulls out. “Open your mouth and show me, baby. Fuck you did so well.” He pinches your nipple. “Swallow.”

You swallow, whimpering as he pinches both your nipples, his mouth against your neck once again. He bits and licks as his hands fondle your breasts. You feel his mouth lower to your boobs, taking your left breast into his mouth while the other continues to be played with. His free hand is between your legs, spreading them wide for him. He runs his fingers up and down your lips, coating them, riling you up. Finally, he inserts two digits inside you.

“Seokjin,” you moan, feeling him push and pull his fingers inside you. Every now and then he’ll twist or curve his fingers when he pushes, and you moan louder with each twist or curl. “Please,” you beg.

Seokjin removes his mouth from your sensitive nipple. “Please what?” He curls his digits as he enters. “Tell me what you want, baby girl.”

“P-please go faster. Please.”

He chuckles. “You want me to go faster?” You nod vigorously. “Okay, love. I’ll let you come on my fingers. Make sure you come hard though, or we’ll go for round two.” When he pulls out, he pushes in faster and rougher. You choke on air as he keeps this rough pace. He doesn’t stop, he doesn’t slow down. You’re screaming as he thrusts his fingers in you. Your back arches, toes curl as your high gets closer. Seokjin notices how close you are and he uses his other hand to rub your clit, helping you reach nirvana faster. And you do. Your body shakes forcefully as you come.

As your body calms, he pulls his finger out from you. Your body flinches as he does so. “That wasn’t hard enough, Y/N. I told you to come hard for me.” You feel all his weight lean back onto his knees. “You better come hard for me this time or we’ll go another round.” You honestly didn’t know what he meant by that statement until you feel the tip of his shaft push in your entrance. You gasp and moan as he pushes himself inside you. “Oh, fuck you’re tight.” He’s hard already? How can he be hard that fast?

Seokjin doesn’t hesitate to slam back into you when he pulls out. He isn’t slow or soft as he fucks you. He is quick and rough, skin slapping and loud moans fill the room immediately. His hand is on your throat, holding it tight enough to make you go crazy.

“Fuck you feel so good. I’ve been wanting to fuck you for so long, baby. Your curves and ass made it so hard not to fuck you when we first met. You don’t know how many times I’ve dreamt of fucking you in the back at the store. Taking you and having you beg me to fuck you hard. To take that chance in getting caught by customers or your boss. Fuck you feel so good. I could fuck you all day, baby. I want to fuck you all day. Right here in this room. I want to be the reason you can’t walk straight. To be the reason your body is aching. Fuck.”

He pulls out, pulling you up and onto your knees. He enters himself back in again from behind, one hand holding on to your waist while the other grips on your neck and pulls your head back with his lips pressed against your ear. He continues his hard fucking. You’re yelling at this point, feeling him hit your spot every time. You’ve already had small orgasms, your body unable to keep up with him as he continues to fuck you.

“Let me fuck you all day. You can come to my place and let me fuck you senseless. I want to go dry in you. Can I fuck you like that? Hmm baby? Let me fuck you like that,” he moans in your ear, making you go crazy.

“Yes,” you cry. “Please fuck me like that.”

“Oh, I will. I’ll have you begging for more each time I make you come. I need to see you—you better come hard or we’ll go again.” Much to your dismay, he pulls out and turns you back around, back to your original position. He pulls your blindfold down and you blink to clear your vision. When you do, you see him so clearly. He’s sweating. Drenched in sweat, and looking so amazing. His body is toned and glistening in sweat.

He pushes himself back inside you fast, keeping that pace. You cry out, back arching as he slams into you. “Oh fuck, baby I’m close. You’re so tight,” he grunts, spreading your legs wider for him.

“I’m coming,” you choke, stars invading your vision.

“Come for me,” he says, one hand going back down to our clit and making small, fast movements against it. You scream his name as you come, and as you look at him, you realize he made you squirt. You come hard, your juices hitting against his skin. “There you go baby—fuck,” he moans, his thrusts no longer in a rhythm as you feel his seed enter you. He stills for a moment, the two of you breathing heavily before he pulls out, your body flinching.

There’s a knock at the door. Both of you look towards it and Seokjin speaks up, “Looks like your car is ready for you.” You look to him and he looks down at you. “The frat is having a party tonight if you want to come.” He scans your body. “I could go for round three tonight.”

You go to the party that night, wearing a long sleeved shirt because the rope left its marking on your wrists. And that night you had round three. This time he was a lot more rougher with you. He left his markings on plenty of spots on your body, but you’re not complaining.

#thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btshoneyhive #btsghostie #bangtanarmynet #bts #bts x reader #bts x you #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #bts au #kim seokjin #seokjin x reader #seokjin x you #seokjin fanfic #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin au

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translations-by-aiimee · 3 years

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The Husky and His White Cat Shizun - Chapter 8

Original Title: 二哈和他的白猫师尊

Genres: Drama, Romance, Tragedy, Xianxia, Yaoi

This translation is based on multiple MTLs and my own limited knowledge of Chinese characters. If I have made any egregious mistakes, please let me know.

Chapter Index

Chapter 8 - This Venerable One Gets Punished

Mo Ran lay in bed like a dead fish for three days. Just as his wounds started to heal, he was summoned to Red Lotus Pavilion to do manual labour.

This was also part of his punishment. During the punishment period, Mo Ran couldn't go down the mountain, but he also couldn't just laze around. So he had to help out the sect and do some drudgery.

Generally speaking, these errands were things like: helping the cafeteria lady at Mengpo Hall wash the dishes, scrubbing the three hundred and sixty-five stone lions on the pillars of the Naihe Bridge, transcribing extremely boring archive files, and so on.

But what kind of place was Red Lotus Pavilion? It was the residence of that bastard Chu Wanning, known as the cursed place called Red Lotus Hell.

Few people in Life-Death Peak had been there, and everyone who had been there left with either their legs or their arms broken.

Therefore, in addition to Red Lotus Hell, Chu Wanning's bedroom had a more grounded nickname: Broken Leg Pavilion.

There was an inside joke circulating around the sect: "The Pavilion hides a beauty, and the beauty holds Tianwen. Enter the gate of broken legs, know the suffering of getting your legs broken. If you want your meridians broken, go to the Elder Yuheng."

There was once a female disciple who wasn't afraid of death. She was bold enough to lust after Elder Yuheng's beauty. Taking advantage of the dark night and high winds, she sneaked to the Southern Peak and climbed onto the eaves, intending to watch the Elder bathe and strip his clothes.

As you can imagine, the female warrior was beaten within an inch of death by Tianwen, crying for her father and calling her mother, and lay in bed for no less than a hundred days.

And Chu Wanning also declared that, if anyone else dared to commit another crime, he would carve out the eyes of the perpetrator himself.

Do you see? What complete nonsense! What puzzling behaviour! What a heinous man!

Within the sect, there used to be innocent silly girls who thought that, because they were women, Elder Yuheng would pity them and show compassion. They were always laughing and joking in front of him, trying to attract his attention. But ever since the elder whipped that one female hooligan, no one dared to hit on him anymore.

To Elder Yuheng, whether it was men or women, he didn't have the disposition of a gentleman. Other than a good-looking face, there was nothing redeeming about him - this was how Chu Wanning was viewed by the disciples of this sect.

The junior brother who had delivered the summons looked at Mo Ran with sympathy. He tried to stay quiet, but in the end, couldn't hold it back: "Brother Mo. . ."

"Hmm?"

". . . Elder Yuheng has such a bad temper. No one who went to the Red Lotus Water Pavilion came out able to stand. Maybe you could see if you could say your wounds haven't healed and beg Yuheng Elder to let you wash dishes instead?"

Mo Ran was very grateful for this junior brother's bodhisattva heart, but he didn't agree.

Beg Chu Wanning?

Forget it. He doesn't need to get beaten by Tianwen a second time.

So he strenuously put on his clothes, dragged his feet, and walked reluctantly to Life-Death Peak's southern peak.

Red Lotus Pavilion, Red Lotus Hell. There wasn't a single person in sight for a hundred li around Chu Wanning's residence.

No one wanted to go close to his residence. Chu Wanning's bad taste and uncertain personality made everyone in the sect stay far away from him.

Mo Ran was a bit nervous. He didn't know what Chu Wanning would make him do as punishment. His thoughts ran wild the whole trip to the southern peak. After passing through the dense bamboo groves, large swathes of beautiful red lotus came into view.

It was early morning, the sun rising from the east, reflecting a splendid shine on the horizon. The red lotus stalks in the pond stretched towards the flaming clouds in the sky, complementing each other; magnificent. At the edge of the pond, a curved zig-zag bridge led to the pavilion standing in serene silence. Behind it was a curtain of waterfalls streaming down the mountain, the fine crystal water droplets raining against the rocks at the bottom. The watery mist created by it evaporated into the air, light gleaming through the fog, creating a sense of enchanting tranquillity.

This is what Mo Ran thought about this:

Gross.

Wherever Chu Wanning lived, no matter how beautiful it was, would always be gross to him!

Just look at it, so arrogantly extravagant, a true waste of extravagance, in fact. The disciples’ dorms are all closely connected to each other and they don't take up much surface area. And then there's the mighty Elder Yuheng, who occupies a whole mountain by himself. He even dug three large ponds and filled them with lotus flowers. Although, these lotus flowers are special varieties and can be refined into immortal medicine, but—

This is getting off track, the place was not pleasing to the eye. He wished he could burn down Broken Leg Pavilion with his torch!

All he could ever do was silently criticize this place. Given that he was only sixteen* this year, he was no match for Chu Wanning. Mo Ran showed up outside Chu Wanning's residence regardless. He stood at the door, squinted his eyes, and put on a sickeningly sweet demure, pretending to be the ideal disciple.

*(T/N The original text flips between all these ages. Mo Ran is just guessing how old he is so that's why it keeps going to 14/15/16)

"Disciple Mo Ran here to greet his master."

"Yes, come in."

The room was chaotic and disorganized. The cold-blooded demon Chu Wanning was dressed in a white robe. The lapels were folded high and tightly, giving off an air of purity and abstinence. Today, he had his hair in a high ponytail, covered with a black metal hair ring. He sat on the ground fiddling with a bunch of mechanical parts, biting a pen he had in his mouth.

Casually glancing at Mo Ran, with the pen still in his mouth, he said vaguely: "Come here."

Mo Ran approached him.

It was no easy feat. Considering there were no benches or tables in this room, artwork and metal broken wood were scattered everywhere.

Mo Ran's brows twitched. He had never entered Chu Wanning's room in his previous life, and he had no idea that this well-dressed beautiful man lived in such a mess. . . He was at a loss for words.

"Master, what is this?"

"Night Wanderer."

"What?"

Chu Wanning was a little impatient, probably because it was inconvenient to speak with a pen in his mouth: "Night Wanderer."

Mo Ran silently glanced at the mess of parts on the ground.

His master was hailed as Shizun Chu, and it wasn't just out of vanity. Speaking honestly, Chu Wanning was a very powerful man. Whether it is his three god-grade weapons, his cultivation techniques, or his machine-building skills, he was clearly worthy of being defined by four words: "the peak of excellence". This was also the reason why he had such a bad temper and was so difficult to serve, but the major cultivation sects still tried to fight over him for those skill.

Regarding the "Night Wanderer", the reborn Mo Ran was well aware of it.

It was a kind of machine made by Chu Wanning, cheap to make but had strong combat power. It can guard the ordinary people in the lower cultivation world from ghosts and demons at night.

In his previous life, the well-made Night Wanderer had almost become a must-have machine for every household. The price of one was equivalent to a broom, and the effect was much easier to handle than the Grinning Door God.

After Chu Wanning died, those Night Wanderers still guarded the poor families who couldn't afford a high-level cultivator. This compassionate heart, coupled with Chu Wanning's affection for his disciples. . . hehe, it really makes Mo Ran despise him.

Mo Ran sat down and looked at the "Night Wanderer" which was just a bunch of parts at this time, and the past flashed through his mind. He couldn't help picking up one of the Night Wanderer's limbs and grasped it in his hand for a closer look.

Chu Wanning clipped a few components, finally freeing his hands. He took the pen out of his mouth and glared at Mo Ran: "That one was just finished with tung oil, don't touch it."

"Oh. . ." Mo Ran put down the machine. He put his fake smile back on still looking cute and completely harmless. He asked with a smile, "Shizun summoned me here, are you planning to let me help?"

Chu Wanning hummed: "Mm."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Clean up the house."

Mo Ran's smile froze. He looked around at the room that looked like it had been hit by an earthquake: ". . ."

Chu Wanning was a genius in immortal cultivation and an idiot in life.

After picking up the fifth broken teacup that had never been swept up, Mo Ran finally couldn't stand it: "Shizun, when was the last time you cleaned your house? My god, it's so messy!"

Chu Wanning was looking at his drawings, and didn't look up when Mo Ran spoke to him: "Almost a year."

Mo Ran: ". . ."

"Where do you usually sleep?"

"What?" There must be something wrong with the drawing. Chu Wanning was upset and looked even more impatient than usual. He rubbed his head and replied in a huff, "Of course it's the bed."

Mo Ran glanced at the bed. It was piled with all kinds of machines that had been mostly completed, as well as a bunch of tools such as saws, axes, files, and so on.

Seriously, how did this man sleep without cutting his own head off?

After working for most of the day, the sawdust on the floor had filled three dustpans, and the white towel that had wiped down the bookcase was ten times more black. By noon, he had only cleaned about half.

Fuck Chu Wanning, this person is really more poisonous than a leeching woman.

Cleaning a room didn't seem like much of a punishment, it didn't really seem like hard work, but who knew that it was such a ghastly place that hadn't been touched in a year? Not to mention that he was covered with wound. Even if he was healthy now, he could shorten his lifespan by half going through all of this!

"Shizun. . ."

"Hm?"

"Your pile of clothes. . ." They'd been stacked there for about three months.

Chu Wanning finally got one of Night Wanderer's arms attached. He rubbed his sore shoulder, looked up at the robes on the suitcase, and said coldly: "I wash them myself."

Mo Ran was relieved. Thank goodness. But he was still a little curious: "Really? Shizun can wash clothes?"

Chu Wanning glanced at him, and after a while, coldly said: "What's so hard about it? Throw them in water, soak them, take them out, and dry them."

". . ." After hearing this, he really didn't know any girl who would keep lusting after Chu Wanning. Mo Ran truly thought that it would break the hearts of dozen of women to find out how disgusting this man really was.

"It's getting late. You can accompany me to the dining hall and finish the rest when you get back."

There were people coming and going from Meng Po Hall, and the Life-Death Peak disciples were eating together. Chu Wanning grabbed a lacquered wooden tray, took a few dishes and sat in the corner silently.

From where he was, no one sat within twenty feet of him.

No one dared to sit too close to Elder Yuheng, for fear that he would get upset, and they would get a lashing from Tianwen. Chu Wanning himself actually knew about this, but he didn't mind. A cold beauty sat there, gently eating the food in the bowl.

But today wasn't like usual.

Mo Ran was brought by him, so naturally he had to follow him.

Others are afraid of him. So was Mo Ran, but he had already died once, so Chu Wanning was nothing in comparison.

Especially after the fear of first seeing him had subsided, the hatred of Chu Wanning from his previous life slowly emerged. So what if Chu Wanning was powerful? In his last life, he still died by his hands.

Mo Ran sat down in front of him, calmly chewing the sweet and sour pork ribs in the bowl. He crunched on the bones then spit them out into a pile.

Chu Wanning suddenly slammed down his chopsticks.

Mo Ran stopped for a moment.

". . . Can you stop eating with your mouth open?"

"I chew the bones, how am I supposed to do that with my mouth closed?"

"Then don't eat the bones."

"But I like to eat the bones."

"Eat around them."

The two quarreling voices grew louder and louder, and some disciples were already peeping at them.

Mo Ran fought the urge to throw the rice bowl over Chu Wanning's head. He pursed his lips, and after a while, he narrowed his eyes, and a sweet smile appeared at the corners of his mouth.

"Shizun, don't shout so loudly. Others might hear, won't they laugh at us?"

Chu Wanning has always been thin-skinned, and his voice really softened. He whispered: "Get out."

Mo Ran burst out laughing.

Chu Wanning: ". . ."

"Hey, Shizun, don't stare at me. Come on, let's eat. I'll try to be quiet."

Mo Ran had laughed enough and started playing nice again, the sound of his chewing much softer.

Chu Wanning gradually went back to gently eating. Seeing that Mo Ran was bring obedient, his face slightly relaxed, no longer looking so bitter and upset. He lowered his head, eating his green beans and tofu with grace.

After a long pause, Mo Ran started to do it again.

He didn't know what was wrong with him. In summary, seeing Chu Wanning in this life, he wanted to make a fool of himself and do whatever he could to make him angry.

So Chu Waning found that although Mo Ran did not chew loudly this time, he began to grab the ribs with his hands and eat them, sloppily eating with greasy hands and sauce-covered fingers.

Chu Wanning's blue forehead vein popped. Endure it.

He lowered his eyelashes. He didn't look at Mo Ran, and focused on his own meal.

Mo Ran didn't know if he had gotten too carefree or forgetful while eating, but he accidentally threw one of the gnawed bones into Chu Wanning's rice bowl.

Chu Wanning stared at the messy and hideous rib bone, and the surrounding air so condensed and frozen it was visible to the naked eye.

"Mo Ran. . . !!!"

"Shizun. . ." Mo Ran was quite frightened. He wasn't sure whether what he said sounded true or fake. "That. . . Uh, I didn't mean it."

Probably fake.

". . ."

"Don't be angry, I'll take it out for you."

He really stretched out his chopsticks, stuck them into Chu Wanning's bowl, and quickly picked out the bone.

Chu Wanning's face was pale, like he was about to vomit.

Mo Ran batted his eyelashes, and there was a pitiful grievance on his delicate face: "Shizun, do you dislike me?"

". . ."

"Shizun, I'm sorry."

It was just that.

Chu Wanning thought to himself: Why do you need to be restrained with the junior disciples?

He gave up the urge to summon Tianwen to hit Mo Ran. His appetite was gone, and he got up and said: "I'm full."

"What? Is that all you're going to eat? Shizun, you've barely touched your food."

Chu Wanning brushed him off: "I'm not hungry."

Mo Ran's heart felt like it was as joyful as a flower, and he still sweetly said: "Then I won't eat it anymore. We can go back to Red Lotus Hell - ehem, go back to Red Lotus Pavilion."

Chu Wanning narrowed his eyes: "We?" There was a mockery in his eyes, and then said, "Who is the other person you're talking about? Disciples and their Shizun have respectable relationships and you will address me in the proper manner."

Mo Ran carefully kept his expression, his eyes curled up with a smile, well-behaved, sensible and cute.

However, in his heart he was thinking: Respectful relationship? Proper manner?

Hehe, if Chu Wanning could know what happened in his previous life, he would know - in the end, Mo Weiyu was the only one deserving of respect in the world.

No matter how noble and arrogant Chu Waning was, he was still a piece of mud under his boot. Didn't he depend on Mo Ran's good will to survive?

Stepping quickly to keep up with his shizun's pace, Mo Ran still had a bright smile on his face.

If Shi Mei was the white moonlight in his heart, Chu Wanning was the broken fishbone stuck in his throat. He needed crush this thorn or swallow it, and it will corrode away in his stomach.

In short, during this new life, he could spare whoever he wanted.

But he would never spare Chu Wanning.

However, Chu Wanning didn't seem to want to spare him so easily.

Mo Ran stood in front of the library in Red Lotus Hell, looking at fifty rows of ten-story bookshelves, thinking that he must have heard wrong.

"Shizun, what did you say. . .?"

Chu Wanning replied lightly: "Dust all the books in here."

". . ."

"After dusting, catalogue them."

"..."

"I will check back tomorrow morning."

"!!!"

What!!! Was he supposed to stay overnight in Red Lotus Hell??

But he had planned to meet with Shi Mei, and even asked Shimei to change his medicine at night!!!

He opened his mouth to plead his case, but Chu Wanning didn't bother paying attention to him. With a wave of his wide sleeves, and turned to exit the library, and, incidentally, closed the door of the library in a haughty manner.

Mo Ran, who's date had been ruined, sat in his boiling hatred of Chu Wanning - he wanted to burn all Chu Wanning's books!!

No!

After thinking it over, he thought of something even worse. . .

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#the husky and his white cat shizun translation #the husky and his white cat shizun #chinese bl #chinese novel #english translation #yaoi novel #yaoi #danmei novel #danmei #mo ran #chu wanning #2ha novel #2ha #2ha translation #ranwan

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space-mermaid-writing · 3 years

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House Arrest [Loki X Reader] Chapter 1

Summary: You are Clint’s 'little' sister and actually a trained Shield agent. But you gave that up a few years ago and became a Chef, because you wanted a normal live. Then one day Natasha shows up at your door and takes you to the Avenger Tower for a while for security reasons.

Tags: Reader is an former Shield Agent, chef!reader, Reader Barton, 2012 Avenger vibes, everything is still alright, Slice of Life, Avengers Family, Loki has a good heart, still the god of mischief, Slow Burn, mention of food and cooking

Read it on AO3

Chapter 1: New Home

It's just before midnight when you finally get off work. You really like your job, but the hours are murder. Being a chef at one of the most expensive five-star restaurants in Philadelphia has its price. You take off your apron, which has hardly any stains from the last few hours on it, and throw it in the wash. The white jacket goes neatly into your locker and is replaced by a cardigan and a scarf. It’s a cool night. With a last good bye to your colleagues, who are still putting the dishes into the dishwashers, you make your way home.

The night is dark, but the streets are lit by lanterns and the windows of closed stores. Even if it had been pitch black, it wouldn't have worried you to have to walk alone through the empty alleys. Last year a guy had tried to rob you and threatened you with a knife. You had given him a broken nose and several stab wounds in the shoulder. After all, you had been trained at Shield. But the poor guy didn’t know that.

Half an hour later you arrive at your apartment. It's more functional than nicely furnished, and everything is a bit of a pick 'n' mix. But you don't mind it, because you spend most of your time at work anyway. At home you don't feel such great importance to culinary variety when it comes to your own food. A pizza or French fries with ketchup were always welcome. After all, you've been standing at the stove long enough at work. Tired, you decide to wait until breakfast for your next meal and, after a quick change of clothes, just fall into bed.

Fortunately, the next day is your day off. You make good use of it and sleep in. Afterwards you have an nice brunch with eggs, bacon and toast and after a short shower you go into town to do some errands. The sun is shining warmly from the sky and it's a beautiful spring day. If this holds up until the weekend, maybe you'd visit the weekly market and see what exotic and rare foods you can grab there. You love these little trips, even if you rarely find the time.

About two hours later and with three full shopping bags, you re-enter your apartment. It's on the second floor of a rather nondescript building, but the interior is very modern, with pastel-colored, high walls. You put everything in the kitchen cabinets and then brew yourself a tea/coffee, with which you make yourself comfortable on the couch and turn on the TV. It's time to relax a little. So you zap through the programs, watch the rest of an episode of your favorite series and then decide to watch a reality series, which is not exactly known for its quality but is entertaining. So the noon goes by until suddenly the doorbell rings. You get up to see if it's the mailman or a neighbor with a package. But a look through the peephole shows you that it is neither. Surprised, you open the door "Nat!" Natasha Romanoff is a friend of you and your brother, as well as the godmother of his children. But due to her job you rarely see each other. "Hey," she greets you with a small smile. "Can I come in?" "Sure." You lead her into the living room, where you turn off the TV. "What can I get you? Tea, coffee, milkshake?" "Coffee is fine." You disappear into the kitchen for a moment as she sits down in the armchair. Natasha was a rare visitor. Mostly she came with some news from Clint. You see him even less because he spends what little free time he has mostly with his wife and the two kids. Understandable. You don't hold it against him and try to visit them on holidays or for birthdays at her farm.

It doesn't take long until you return to the Russian woman with a new cup and some pastries and sit down on the couch again. "Well," you ask her curiously. "What do I owe the pleasure?" Natasha reaches for her cup. "It’s rather inconvenience. But first tell me if you’ve observed anything unusual lately." Questioningly, you look at her. "What do you mean?" "Nothing weird? You sure?", she asks. "Tell me what I'm supposed to have seen, please," you prompt her, both impatient and confused. Natasha gets right to the point. "You're being monitored." "By Shield?" "By Hydra." Stunned by this news, you remain silent. Natasha uses this pause to drink her coffee. "Oh, this is really good." But you don't listen to her at all, because various thoughts are circling in your head. And again you try to remember if you have noticed anything: same people you met, vehicles, anything. But you got pretty used to your life and didn't pay attention at these things. "Anyway, I'm here to pick you up. For your own safety it’s best if you stay with us for a while," Natasha finally breaks the silence and you look up. "What could Hydra possibly want from me? I don't know any internal secrets anymore. There are better to kidnap than me." "That's what we're trying to figure out right now." "Well, the danger doesn't seem to be acute", you note. "If they wanted to grab me, I wouldn't be sitting here by now. Thanks, but I decline and prefer to stay here. I have my job and the apartment." And now that you know what's going on, you can pay attention and take the necessary precautions, too. "Thanks for warning me." Natasha, on the other hand, doesn't look like she gives you a choice. "You know Shield has its ways to convince you?", she reminds you, but you shrug. Why would such a large organization bother with a single civilian like you? "What does my dear brother say about this matter?", you ask instead. "He hasn't been informed yet." Ergo, they deliberately leave him out of it so that he can't protest. You know this kind of approach of Shield.

Clint understands and supports you in your civilian life, even though he protested the loudest back when you announced your exit. "How’s he?", you want to know from Natasha, who is now finishing her coffee. "He's alive." That can mean just about anything from being happy and healthy to badly hurt but breathing. Better than being dead, you guess. "He's out in Africa with Steve right now." "Busy, huh?" "As usual." She stands up as a sign that she has nothing more to say for the day, and you walk her to the door, where you bid her farewell. "We'll talk again soon," she promises, but admittedly you have little desire to do so right now. "Sure," you reply and close the door behind her.

Well, that were some news. You put her empty cup in the sink and pause thoughtfully by the window. How could you have missed Hydra's agent, you ask yourself while glancing out. Your new life made you too comfortable. But it also takes up a lot of time and energy. And anyway, you dropped out because you didn't want to be cautiousness all the time anymore. You wanted a normal life with a normal job and normal problems. Away from agents, assassinations and super powers. You didn't want to check every day on your way to work if you were being followed, secretly monitored or if someone else was out to get you. That's why you’ve chosen this life. With a sigh, you sit back down on the couch. The past never leaves you alone, you guess. But tomorrow would be a long day even without these new old worries.

The advantage of being a chef is usually that you don't have to get up at the crack of dawn for work. Most Restaurants open at noon, some even in the evening. So does the one where you work. There are preparations to be made before opening time, but you can still sleep through the morning, do some housework, and then head to the restaurant in the sunny afternoon. That's where the trouble starts, though. Just as you're about to open your locker to change your clothes, someone taps you on the shoulder. It's your boss, who hands you a letter. You can tell immediately from his serious expression that something is wrong. And when you open the envelope, you discover your resignation. You look up, perplexed, but you lose out in the following discussion. You don't even get a decent explanation, and that’s what annoys you the most. You're pretty sure your skills aren’t the issue, neither is the way you work. Nor the way you treat your colleagues, with whom you get along very well, even if the tone among cooks is a bit rough. You go back to your apartment, now in a bad mood. It‘s unbelievable! The sunny weather seems like a mockery to you now, and the people you meet along the way are in far too good a mood, in your opinion. It will be hell to find another good job as this was.

Arriving back home you immediately get more bad news: your landlord put a notice on your apartment door. The bathrooms in the building will get completely renovated soon and will be unusable for several weeks. Plus the heavy construction noise during the day. And the water would be turned off. It would be best to find temporary substitute apartment, so they recommend. "Haha...ha..." You laugh dryly and unlock the door. Was that a coincidence? When Natasha had been here yesterday? Probably not. You know Shield's methods and that it’s easy for them to take away your job and your apartment just to get their way. You have two options: either you accept the offer before Shield gets any more stupid ideas, or you run away and try to hide. With a sigh you go into your bedroom and throw a suitcase on the bed, in which you pack clothes, the most important documents and some things from the kitchen you need for work. Not everything fits, so you add a second travel bag. Meanwhile, you think about who you could complain to. Your brother was a favorite target of yours, but he a) had nothing to do with this matter and b) was not in the country. Which’s a shame, because you'd really like to have him by your side right now. If you wanted to complain to Shield directly, Fury would probably be the best person to do it. But you hold too much respect for him to vent your anger to him. Maybe just the next Shield agent who would come to you on this matter would have to step in. You know someone would definitely get back to you. With one last look around your apartment, you leave it and lock the door. Then you shoulder your bag and make your way out.

Just as you're thinking about getting a large coffee from Starbucks down the street, a red sports car pulls up to the side of the road. Natasha at the wheel. "Hmph..." You walk over to her and throw your luggage in the back seat. Then you take a seat in the passenger seat yourself. "Just for the record, I'm not happy with this." "I can see that." She tries to give a sympathetic smile, but you know this is just a job to her. "Well then, off to the Bat Cave, Wayne." "Does that make you Robin?", the Russian asks, driving off. "I guess", you reply snippy, not interested in keeping the conversation going. Fortunately, Natasha wasn't exactly the talkative sort either, so you have some peace and quiet to get your thoughts in order.

It takes you just under two hours to drive from Philadelphia to New York with city traffic slowing you down a bit. Otherwise, you would have arrived earlier at the former Stark Tower. It's been the Avenger Tower for some time now, but that doesn't make much difference, except that Tony Stark seems to be too lazy to put the remaining letters back on it.

Natasha parks in the private underground garage and you take the elevator up to the grand lobby. She tells you about the current residents here. There’s the usual staff, who are of course always present. Of all the Avengers, Bruce Banner is living here permanently. "He actually hardly ever leaves the lab," the Russian explains. "I'm currently living here, too. Every now and then Thor stops by, but mostly he prefers to explore the world. And his brother Loki is here. There have been some...problems with him and he's sort of under supervision here. Tony trusts technology more than Asgard. The owner of the house, by the way, is out visiting an outpost right now." "There are even Avengers outposts?" Natasha nods as she walks you down the halls to the living area. "But don't tell Hydra." "Sure", you promise unfazed. "Speaking of which, if I want to go out to visit someone, do I need a key or how does this work?" "It's better if you stay here in the house for now. It's for your safety, after all." "For how long?", you want to know. The answer is short. "As long as necessary." "So I'm sort of locked in here”, you state. That's typical Shield. As soon as there's any problem, an agent is sent in to put everything in solitary arrest or quarantine. As long as it’s shielded from the rest of the world. Natasha stops in front of a door that is now yours, but doesn't look directly at you, which as much of an answer as you get. "I'll be fine on my own now, thanks," you smile politely but not genuinely at her, and after she assures you that you're free to move around inside the building, you head off with your luggage in your new apartment.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #House Arrest #Chapter 1 #my writing #Clint #clint barton #hawkeye #loki laufeyson #imagine #chef reader #mcu #marvel

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hotchseyebrows · 3 years

Text

it's a matter of seeing

a derek morgan x penelope garcia fic

a/n: hello again beloveds !!! today i present to you Another derek and penelope are kissing for the first time fic. what can i say, it's simply the best. thank you as always to the spectacular @blkantigone for being my supportive and helpful first reader and editor, love youuu! thank all of you for reading (im getting faster between uploads, have you noticed?)

title is from emily l. by marguerite duras. full line is "I don't know if love's a feeling. Sometimes I think it's a matter of seeing. Seeing you."

rating/warnings: gen audiences :) two vague allusions to sex but nothing even close to explicit, its more just in the way it exists in the background and derek is injured but it's superbly minor

read it here on ao3!

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.”

Derek gets hurt on a case, and Penelope worries. He's fine, but she still worries.

word count: 2028

Derek glances at the time on his phone. Almost midnight, though it could be closer to 4 a.m. for how tired the team is tonight. A long case in Colorado kept them away from home for almost two weeks, and all Derek wants is to pet his dog and sleep in his own bed.

“Could this elevator ride be any slower?” Emily groans from where she’s leaning on the wall behind him.

“You know, Prentiss, I could have just gotten a late night taxi or grabbed one of the last trains.” Spencer is rocking back and forth on his heels next to her, a yawn growing on his lips.

“Nuh uh, kid, I’m getting you home whether you like it or not. I just wish you didn’t need that notebook from your desk tonight.”

“Sorry,” Spencer says, cringing slightly. Derek looks back to see Emily nudge his shoulder with a fond grin. Spencer’s shoulders relax.

“Why are you coming up, Hotch?” Derek asks the man in the opposite corner from Emily.

“Files.” Hotch stays facing the elevator door, only glancing at Derek.

“No way are you planning on staying here and working tonight– Hotch. We’ve been gone for two weeks–” (“Almost two weeks,” says Spencer. Derek waves him off.) “– you should be going home.”

“I’m just grabbing a few things. I’ll get back on this elevator with you.” Hotch glances at the time on his own phone then, unlocking it to open a text message from Jess. Derek sees a picture of smiling Jack for a split second before he looks away. “Jess is already expecting me.”

Derek hums in acknowledgement. He rolls his shoulder as the doors open and they walk towards the bullpen together.

“Shoulder still hurting, Morgan?” Emily asks. The day before they came home, one of the unsubs got the jump on Derek, tackling him to the ground. Emily easily subdued him, but Derek landed funny on a wayward pipe. His shoulder has been bothering him ever since. He nods in response.

“I’ll be fine.” Emily scoffs at him, but says nothing. He will. Eventually.

Spencer holds open the door for Derek. “Here, Morgan. So you don’t aggravate your injury.”

“Hilarious. Ha ha. When’s the stand-up tour? Have you been moonlighting at comedy clubs, pretty boy?”

Spencer sticks his tongue out at him. He quickly pulls it back in his mouth when he catches Hotch looking at him. To their surprise, Hotch cracks a small smile. “Reid has a point, Morgan.” Emily lets out a laugh that is more a cackle than anything.

“Evil. You’re all evil.” He walks through the held open door anyway.

Most of the desk lamps are off, the bullpen empty this late. But his chair is spinning slightly and his light is on. A mop of blonde hair, today a mess of curls with a large sparkly flower pinned at the top, bounces as the chair spins.

“Baby girl, what are you doing here?” Penelope spins to face him, a brilliant smile flashing onto her face immediately. “It’s late. You could have gone home hours ago.”

“Where’s JJ and Rossi?”

“Already in their cars on the way home. We all needed something from up here first.” She’s standing now, and he steps in front of her. “Don’t avoid my question, Mama,” he says, lightly tapping the tip of her nose.

Her smile falters, worry breaking through. “You got hurt.” Her eyebrows crease as she looks him over.

Derek raises both eyebrows. “Yea, but I’m okay. A little injury.”

The crease does not go away. “You got hurt. I don’t like when you get hurt.” He uses his non injured arm to pull her in for a hug. She wraps him in her arms immediately, her face pressing against his chest. The usual private shiver dances down his spine at the feeling. He rubs a small circle on the middle on her back as the tension bleeds out of her.

“See, baby girl? I’m fine.” Penelope picks up her head and looks at him. “Heart’s still beating. Blood’s still pumping. It’s just a little booboo.” She laughs at his word choice. “I’m okay. Promise.”

“You’re gonna rest at home? Ice it, or heating pad it up, or whatever you need?” He nods. “And you’ll call me if you need my help?”

“I promise.” She pops on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “You’re cute when you’re worried.”

Penelope tilts her head back and laughs. “I’m always cute, Derek Morgan. Don’t you forget it.” She never looks more beautiful than when she laughs.

“I won’t,” he says, moving his arm to her waist and walking them both to his desk. Spencer is closing his bag at his desk while Emily leans back in his chair, eyes closed.

“Okay, I’m ready,” says Spencer, nudging the chair with his foot. Emily blinks her eyes open, sitting up. “And I can drive, Emily, you’re more tired than I am.” She opens her mouth to argue, but a yawn comes out instead. She hands Spencer the keys without a word.

“Why are you here, Garcia?” Emily asks.

“Had to see my sweet love in person as soon as you got home.” Derek’s heart flips in his chest. “I worry,” she says simply. Emily nods, giving Derek a long look.

Hotch appears at the top of the stairs next to his office. “I’m leaving.” The unsaid addition of that means you are too rings out from the eyebrow heavy look he gives them all.

Derek grabs the file he needs and a novel his sister sent him from his desk drawer quickly. “Come on baby girl, I’ll walk you out.”

“My very own Prince Charming,” she says as she loops her arm through his.

Spencer starts telling Emily about a Russian film festival coming up in a few weeks as they lead the way to the door. Hotch is close behind, silent but listening. Penelope pulls on Derek a little and they follow.

She puts her head on his shoulder. On reflex, he kisses the top of her head. Not for the first time, he thinks about how easy it is for her to slot into place in his life. She just fits, no matter where he is or what he’s doing. There she is, a voice on the phone or the person spinning in his desk chair in the middle of the night solely because she needs to see him in person.

He falters as they walk through the glass doors. Penelope only makes it a few steps before she’s looking back at where he’s frozen, mind whirring. Emily is pressing the button to the elevator ahead of them. “Der?” Penelope asks.

“Why are you here?”

She tilts her head. “I told you. I worry.”

“You could have called Penelope. You did call, we talked on the plane.”

Now she blushes. She never blushes. “I had– I had to see for myself. I didn’t want to wait until Monday.”

A realization washes over Derek. “You had to see,” he repeats, a smile growing on his face.

She sways a little on her feet. “Yes, I said that.” The trio at the elevator notices them lingering by the doors, but Hotch stops Spencer from calling out with a knuckle brush to the forearm.

Derek steps closer to Penelope. “You had to see me. With your own eyes.”

Penelope rolls her eyes. “Yes, silly goose, that’s the usual way of seeing.” Derek takes another step, now only an arm’s length away.

“It’s midnight on a Saturday. And you waited for me here, alone.”

She nods.

“Even though we talked today and you know that I’m okay, that I’ve had worse injuries.”

She nods again.

“Penelope,” he says, voice barely a whisper. He steps impossibly closer. “Why are you here?”

A look of fear settles on Penelope’s face. “Derek–”

“No, it’s alright!” He grabs her hand. “I just need you to say it.”

She softens, something like hope lighting up her eyes. “If you need me to say it, then you already know.”

He releases a loud laugh– the kind of joyous sound that comes unbidden from the bottom of the stomach. Leaning forward, he rests their foreheads together, watching her reaction. When she smiles, he knows for sure. “Yea I do,” he says.

She leans in across the tiny distance between them and presses their lips together. Derek forgets about the lingering ache in his shoulder in favor of this new feeling. He swings an arm around her waist and straightens up, pulling her flush against him. She wraps her arms around his neck, a soft sound humming against his lips. He’s about to slip his tongue into her mouth and carry her off to an empty office when someone clears their throat from across the room.

Penelope pulls back first, automatically hiding her face in Derek’s neck. Emily is hiding a smile behind her hand. Hotch’s eyebrows are raised slightly, the ghost of a smile around his eyes. Spencer makes no attempt to hide his glee, fingers tapping together happily. Derek grins at them. “Can I help you three?”

“Just thought you’d want to carry on somewhere else. And the elevator is here.” Sure enough, Emily has a foot in the elevator door. She shows him her full grin this time. “Not that we weren’t having fun watching the show.”

He scoffs. “Next time, we’re charging a ticket price.” Penelope giggles.

“Next time?” she whispers.

He nods. “If you want.”

“Yes! Yes. I want. Very much so.” He smiles, a full eye crinkle 1000 watt smile, and interlocks their fingers to lead her to the elevator. She slots in right at his side, putting her head back on his shoulder.

They stay that way the whole way down and keep their hands together as they walk to the parking lot. Emily makes kissy faces as she and Spencer get into her car. Spencer waves happily. Hotch gives them a soft smile before he disappears around a corner.

Derek pulls her in for another kiss right next to Esther. Just because he can. “Follow me home?” he mutters against her lips. “We don’t have to… tonight. Next time. But I’ll make breakfast.”

She traces a spiral on his upper arm. “Okay. It’s a date.” He kisses the tip of her nose just to hear her giggle.

She gives him one more kiss before gently shoving him in the direction of his car. “The faster you get to your car, the faster we get home.” He blows her a kiss before jogging to where he parked two weeks ago. She catches it and puts it right over her heart.

The streets are almost empty as they drive, and Derek keeps pulling up next to her at stoplights to ask if she comes here often or if she wants to race. By the time they arrive at Derek’s apartment building, it’s almost one a.m. and they are both dead on their feet. Still, they stop to kiss in front of his elevator. They kiss again just inside of his front door and again when he hands her an old shirt to wear to bed. He has the urge to pinch his arm, just to double check that he’s not still asleep on the plane. But no, there she is, brushing her teeth in his bathroom with a spare toothbrush. He's never felt this kind of peace with someone else in his space. She has toothpaste on the corner of her mouth and her eyes are bloodshot from exhaustion. I love you, he thinks.

“What?” she asks. “You’re staring.”

Derek hums, wrapping an arm around her waist. "Do you blame me?" He grabs a tissue and blots away the toothpaste. It's a slight deflection, but it's not the moment for what he's really thinking. She scrunches her nose and smiles.

"No. You have good taste."

"Damn right I do, baby girl. The best taste."

They don’t kiss much when they lay in Derek’s bed, too tired to do much more than cuddle up together and turn off the lights. But Derek doesn’t mind. He’s already thinking about breakfast.

#morcia #derek morgan #penelope garcia #cm #cj.txt #denelope #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #cjs fic #emily prentiss #spencer reid #aaron hotchner

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pascalpanic · 3 years

Text

‘Nilla Bean (Agent Jack “Whiskey” Daniels x gn!Reader)

Summary: A cowboy in your coffee shop is not the way you’d expected your morning to go, but you’re not complaining; especially not when he’s as attractive as he is.

W/C: 2.1k

Warnings: talk of food/eating, brief allusions to alcohol, lots of flirting, sexual innuendos, I think there’s like a single use of fuck

A/N: okay I’ve been thinking about this FOREVER but I finally went ahead and wrote it!!! hope u guys like it, I’m a sucker for a coffee shop AU as a barista myself :) thx @theteddylupinexperience for helping me name it and motivating me to write it lol

When you started your shift this morning, you’d groaned as you tied the apron around your waist, expecting an uneventful day. Most were. If you were lucky enough to see someone you knew or to have an especially nice customer, you’d consider it a good day. You didn’t know when you walked in that it would be the good day to end all good days: nothing could top this one.

Weekday mornings in the fall aren’t particularly busy. The majority of your customers come around the morning rush, and the remaining ones are usually retirees or house-spouses and their young children. It’s enjoyable, days like these, that don’t require you to dash about the shop.

The only problem, really, is having nothing to do. You clean the coffee grinder, wipe down tables, wipe down everything else, then do it all again. Restocking, usually an endless chore, isn’t even an option; no one’s using anything in the first place. You and your coworkers chat, deep-cleaning the coolers, washing the blender stations, and doing the dirty work. When a customer comes, you’re the lucky one who gets to go take their order and put your task on hold first.

It seems like you’ve done every task twice, even when your manager introduces yet another idea for you to deal with. To bide your time, you prep coffee for later, rearrange the case of pretty little pastries that sits next to your register, and doodle on your station with a paint pen, humming to the soft music playing in the shop.

People come and go, some picking up mobile orders and some ordering from you, some choosing to eat inside and some taking their food to go. You sip your drink happily between customers- a white mocha with caramel.

At one point, you’re in the back and washing dishes when a coworker peeks his head into the back. “Hey, you got someone up front!” He informs you, and you nod and wander out through the swinging doors.

Well. That’s certainly a sight for a Tuesday morning.

The man standing at the register is wearing a painfully well-tailored suit jacket, with gray tweed and patches on the elbows. Beneath it is a white top and a black tie, and the man wears jeans on the bottom half. Interesting.

Perhaps more interesting is the large cowboy hat perched atop his head. The man’s face, below the brim of his Stetson, is incredibly handsome. He has an aquiline nose, a neatly trimmed mustache that wouldn’t work on anyone else, and warm brown eyes that make you smile softly.

“Hi,” you comment as you log into the register. “Are you a part of our rewards program?” You ask as part of your regular spiel.

The man furrows his brow then shakes his head. “Uh, no. No I’m not. Can you sign me up now?” He asks, and his voice makes your chest flutter with the tone. It’s rich and smooth, with a beautiful southern twang.

Looking at your register and back at him, you shake your head. “It’s just an app on your smartphone, really easy,” you tell him.

“Ah, damn,” he groans and pulls it from his pocket. “I’m shit with technology. Why don’t you just… type it in here?” He says, handing you his phone with a notes page open. His thick fingers accidentally lock the phone as he hands it to you.

You tap the screen to wake it and find the background to be a picture of a cute little pig all covered in mud. “Uh, you locked it,” you chuckle. “What’s the password?”

The man looks down shyly. “1-2-3-4. Don’t make fun’a me, I’m like a grandpa with these newfangled phones.”

It’s endearing, you have to admit, and it makes you giggle. “Not a problem. I’m not here to chide you on your security choices,” you shrug. You type in the code and find the app, starting the download for him before handing back his phone. “Can I get a name to start your order?” You ask as you look up at him.

His eyes hold a warmth there, radiating off of his smile. “Whiskey.”

“Your mother named you Whiskey?” You tease as you type in the name, returning back to the main page of beverages. “Some kind of legal name.”

The man shakes his head. “Nah, that’s just what I go by at work.”

Whiskey likes conversation, you notice, and it makes you chuckle a little. “You got a real name then?” You ask him, raising an eyebrow beneath your visor.

The man tips his hat. “Jack Daniels, at your service.” He says and offers you a hand, which you take and shake.

“That’s a lie. You’re telling me your nickname is Whiskey and your real name is a type of whiskey?”

The man shrugs. “My momma had a real funny sense of humor, I guess. My daddy loved the booze so they went with it. I work for Statesman, so I suppose it’s fitting.”

“Ah, the distillery,” you nod with a smile, not grasping the depth of what Statesman actually does. How could you? “Well then, Jack,” you say with an honest grin on your face. “What can I get you to drink?”

Whiskey, Jack, whatever his name is, looks up at the menu, scanning the different beverages. “Well. That sure is a lot of choices. I’m new to the area, so I don’t know the menu yet, and I don’t know the first thing about coffee other than how to make it in a machine,” he admits to you. “What would you recommend, sugar?”

Sugar. Your heart beats a million times faster at the man’s words. You’ve had lots of weird and creepy men call you different things, but you’ve never been flustered and enjoyed it. This man is getting to you, quickly. “Well, how strong do you take your coffee?”

He thinks about that for a second, fiddling with the button on his suit jacket. “Pretty strong. A little sweet, with cream. I usually take it Irish style,” he admits with a chuckle, tapping a belt buckle that you realize is a tiny flask. Jesus. That’s not cheesy.

“Well, we don’t serve alcohol,” you laugh and look down at your screen. “We have all kinds of flavors.” You list them all off, off the top of your head, now staring at the ceiling to recite them all. “And our seasonal drink is pumpkin spice.”

The man raises an eyebrow. “Wonderful and all, but what do you like? You seem like you’ve got a good taste, darlin’, tell me what you’d recommend.”

God, these names are going right to where they shouldn’t, especially not when this handsome man is leaning on your counter and flirting with you as he orders his coffee. “I like vanilla.” You shrug.

The man laughs and stands. “I hate to say it, sugar, but I’m not a very vanilla man,” he says, his head tilting down and his dark, sultry eyes peeking out at you from just below the brim. His voice is seductive, implying something else other than the flavor.

Oh fuck. “Oh, not like that,” you laugh as your face floods with warm blood, anxiety coursing through your veins. “Not vanilla in that way.” Fuck, that’s even worse, you think and grip the counter so as to not physically cringe at your words.

“Not like that, huh?” His words are still so seductive and flirtatious it makes you want to combust. Maybe you will, if he keeps this going.

“N-no,” you stammer, looking down at the menu screen again. “I mean, I just think it’s underrated. People dismiss it as boring, but it’s really just as interesting of a flavor as anything else. It tastes really good with our espresso.”

Jack tilts his head to the side, a smirk on his face. His lip pokes out just slightly to wet his lips and you shiver involuntarily, your skin pricking up all across your body. God, you hope he can’t see it. “I’ll trust you on it, ‘nilla bean,” the man drawls and stands up straight again. “Triple espresso with vanilla and cream.”

You nod and ring that in. God, if he keeps going with the nicknames, you’re going to melt into a puddle here and now.

“What are these?” He asks as his fingers trace over the drawings on the counter, lifting them and finding the pink and green powder of the dried paint has transferred to his fingertips.

God, he makes you nervous, but in a good way. In the best way possible, a way that makes you want to knock that cowboy hat off his head and find out if his lips are as soft as they look. “I draw when I’m bored. It’s been a slow day,” you chuckle as your own fingers trace the crawling vines and flowers you’d painted there. “Sorry about the transfer,” you chuckle and your fingertips brush his, making you involuntarily shudder again at the contact. His fingertips are calloused and radiate warmth. “Uh, can I get you anything to eat?” You ask and gesture at the bakery case.

The man inspects it for a moment, looking at the various foods lined up under the soft white light. “I’ll take one’a these,” he says and pokes a finger towards the chocolate chip cookies through the glass. You nod and take one out for him, putting it in a little paper sleeve and handing it over. “How much is this gonna hurt my wallet?” He asks, pulling it out from the back pocket of his jeans.

“Give me one second.” You type in your code for your employee discount, which takes a moment.

“What’re you typin’ there, ‘nilla bean?” He asks, brow furrowing.

Looking up at him, you push your visor up your face and smile a little. “Oh, I’m giving you my employee discount. It’s ridiculously priced here.”

Jack frowns. “You don’t have to do that for me, sugar. I’m just a regular ol’ customer.”

It’s your chance, you realize, to say something or stay silent forever. “Well, I like you,” you admit and take the credit card he hands you, swiping it through the machine. “And I’m hoping you’ll at least become a regular. I’d like to see you more,” you tell him with a grin.

The man’s face lights up, even beneath the shadow of his brim. “I’d like that too,” he nods and pockets his card when you hand it back.

A beat of silence passes as the two of you smile at each other, both of you lovestruck immediately. “Uh, your drink will be right up over there,” you say and nod to the other end of the café. “Are you going to drink that here or take it to go?” You ask.

“Oh, here,” he nods.

“Perfect,” you say with a small smile. “Then I’ll just bring it to you when it’s ready. Nothing better to do today,” you shrug and wander down to the other end before Jack, Whiskey, whatever can refute you.

You take the cup from your coworker, humming to yourself as you put some vanilla and cream in the cup, pulling the espresso shots. When it’s ready, it barely reaches the halfway mark of the small cup, so you top it with a little whipped cream. You suspect the man has more of a sweet tooth than he lets on.

Pocketing a pink paint marker, you put a lid on the drink and walk out to the dining room, setting the coffee down across from him. He’s munching on the cookie he’d ordered, looking up at you with unintentional puppy dog eyes. “Hey there.”

“Hi,” you smile and pull out the chair across from him, sitting down and pulling out the paint pen. “I put a little extra whipped cream on top. I thought it would go well with the espresso, make it a little creamier or something.”

As you uncap the paint pen, Jack’s brow furrows as he watches you. “Whatcha doing there?” He asks as you bring his cup closer to yourself and write something on the top.

“Being brave,” you chuckle and cap the pen, sliding it back. “I gotta head back. Enjoy it,” you say as you stand and pat him on the shoulder.

Only as you walk back to the register does Whiskey comprehend exactly what you put on the top of his cup. It’s your phone number, in that chalky pink paint, and a smiley face beneath it.

Jack may not be great with technology, like he told you, but he immediately pulls out his phone and takes a photo. Then he enters the number into a contact, filling out the name: ‘Nilla Bean.

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