#popular coffee machines | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dr-spencer-reids-queen · 2 months

Text

New Horizons

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Deaf!Fem!Reader

Word Count: ~1.9k

Warnings: fluff

Summary: You were born deaf in a family that can hear. They've adapted to make you feel like part of the family. Spencer met you and learned sign language for you. Now you get a chance to join their world. Will you take it?

Square Filled: deaf au for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

The bacon in the pan on the stove slowly turns crispy brown the longer it sits in the grease. The food smells amazing as does most food. You have a very sensitive nose and acute vision. Spencer likes to quiz you on what he has in his lunch bag without opening it just to see if you can smell what’s in there.

You look to the right and see Spencer pace the length of the living room with his phone to his ear. His mouth moves but no noise comes out of it. The bacon cooks but no noise comes from the sizzling. The coffee machine blinks rapidly to let you know that it’s done brewing but no noise comes from it. Spencer’s face scrunches up in frustration as he becomes more animated on the phone. Man, there’s nothing you wouldn’t give to hear the sound of his voice.

You’ve never heard anything make noise a day in your life. You’re deaf and have been since birth. Your entire family is hearing so you’re not sure where you got your deafness from. Is it even hereditary? Is it just a malfunction? You’re not exactly sure why you’re deaf and none of your family is, but it’s been a wild ride, to say the least.

The natural thing to do as a human is to express your emotions through words, but you can’t do that. Because you’ve never been able to hear, you never got the chance to learn how to speak. You’re an adult and don’t know how to speak. It hurt you sometimes knowing Spencer got to do something you’d never be able to do.

To express how you’re feeling, you took up painting and drawing at a very young age. To experiment with different colors and brushes, to create something to express how you’re feeling felt good. It felt so good that you wanted to provide that to other people who had a hard time expressing through words.

When you got out of college, you started a business of being an art teacher for deaf and hard-of-hearing people. Hearing people can join your class, obviously, but the target audience is people with a hearing disability. It’s gotten more popular over the years, so you have your own studio right down the road from your apartment.

If you’ve learned one thing about being deaf is that you’re not going to let it hinder your life in any way. The same thing goes for your relationship with Spencer.

When you met him, he was passing by your studio and thought you were the most beautiful woman in the world. Truly shining in your element. He learned very quickly that you were deaf but that didn’t stop him from wanting to get to know you. He never had the desire to learn Sign Language until he met you. That night, he studied the language and practiced signing so he would be able to talk to you.

Naturally, he picked the skill up quickly.

He asked you on a date that very next day. It was impressive to know someone who didn’t know a single thing about Sign Language only to come to you the next day and know enough to have a conversation. He didn’t know everything so you helped him where you could; he was being so cute about it.

No one has ever gone through so much trouble just to talk to you. Most people would either write what they want to say or not bother talking to you at all. Not Spencer. He put in the effort.

That’s how you knew he was the one.

He came by your studio every day until he convinced you that living together was the best thing. He lives pretty close to his job at the BAU but moved in with you which puts an extra thirty minutes on his commute every morning. He gave up living where he was just to be with you because it was easier for you to be close to your studio.

You fell for him and fell hard. Plus, he loves having all of your artwork in the apartment. It’s very colorful and expressive, and that’s how he knows how you feel. He’d never want to put a limit on what you can create, and you’d never want to leave his life dull and colorless.

Your disability has never come between you, but now you have a choice to make.

Your parents called you yesterday over video chat to tell you they have the money to give you surgery for a cochlear implant… if you want it. You’d finally be able to hear. You’d finally be able to be just like everyone else. It’s not a decision you can make lightly because there is so much weight behind it.

The deaf community has done so much for your life; you love what it stands for. It’s a community that constantly proves itself worthy against a world that thinks so negatively about it. Some of your bestest friends are deaf, and they’re wonderful people. Just because someone can’t hear, doesn’t make them any less of a person.

Taking this surgery feels like a cop-out like you’re just looking for a way to escape the deaf community and take the easy way out. It’s not like that at all. You’d never want to be separated from a culture that is so diverse and so beautiful, but you’d have a shot at being able to hear. It’s something you’d always wanted for yourself even if you couldn’t admit it.

You’d finally be able to hear bacon pop and sizzle. You’d be able to hear your mom laugh at one of your dad’s corny jokes. You’d get to hear Spencer’s voice. How can you accept a surgery like this and not feel like you’re abandoning a culture that cared for you? You’re more than capable of living a happy and successful life without being able to hear but does that mean you should? That you want to?

Spencer gets off the phone and sees you staring into the pan of bacon in thought. He walks over to you and makes sure you can see him instead of sneaking up on you. He doesn’t know how many times he’s approached you without you knowing he was there. You snap out of your own thoughts and look at him.

What’s wrong? He signs.

I can’t stop thinking of what my parents said.

Are you having doubts? You shrug. It doesn't matter if you can hear or not. I fell in love with you and will support you in whatever you want to do.

Damn, you really got lucky to be with a man like Spencer. You take the bacon off the pan and plate it, but you don’t move to eat it.

I know. Thank you.

I have to go to work, but I will see you afterward.

He leans in and kisses you, making it last a few seconds longer than usual. When he pulls away, he smiles at your dazed look. He makes you feel things you never knew a man could make you feel. He mouths, “I love you” and you mouth it right back to him. He leaves the apartment soon after, and you rush over to the small balcony you have that overlooks the busy street below.

Spencer walks away from the apartment and to the nearest bus stop which is at the end of the street. The bus comes ten minutes later and takes him to work, but you don’t leave your spot on the balcony. People bust their asses to get to where they need to go unbeknownst that you’re watching them from above.

There are two mothers by the bus stop who have children with them who look to be crying. They dig through their bags for some food to ease their child’s discomfort. Across the street is a couple that looks to be arguing. You can tell by the angry look on the woman’s face and the desperate look on her partner’s face. Kids play basketball in the park next to the bus stop. People walk their dogs who bark at other dogs they see.

The bustling city below and you have an opportunity to hear all of it.

If you’re going to get the surgery, you want it for yourself and no one else. You don’t want to be doing this for anyone but yourself. You want to be able to hear and listen to movies instead of reading them. You want to be able to listen to music instead of feeling them. You want to be able to listen to Spencer when he talks instead of reading his hands.

So, you get it. You get the surgery.

When you wake up, your whole family is waiting for you in your hospital room. Your head is in major pain from where they cut into you to place the cochlear implant. There is a device that will stick to the side of your head like a magnet that will communicate to the implant in your head so that you can hear the world around you.

The doctor comes in with the device and explains to you that once he places it on, he’ll calibrate it and turn it on. Your entire family is silent as he does this because they don’t want to bombard you with noise after living a life of no noise. Your mom looks at the doctor who nods as soon as the device is turned on.

The first thing you hear is the ticking of the machine next to you. The next thing you hear is the fluorescent bulbs in the lights above buzzing. Everything is heightened after never having the sense. Your mother steps forward and grabs your hands with a smile on her face.

“Can you hear me?” she asks.

You don’t understand what she is saying but hearing her voice for the first time brings tears rolling down your cheeks. She lets go of your hands and signs at the same time she talks so you at least know what she’s saying.

“Can you hear me?” You nod eagerly. She then signs your name. “Your name is Y/N.”

This is so overwhelming for you. Your body has never felt this high before. Your family takes turns signing and speaking to you, and you never stop crying once. Your mom laughs and you look at her with all the love in the world. Her laugh is so beautiful.

“Do you want to see Spencer?” your mom asks and signs at the same time.

You nod eagerly and she steps into the hallway to bring him in. He’s kind of nervous. What if you don’t like his voice? What if you hate it? What if you only love him because he never talked? You can practically see the thoughts he’s having so you reach out for him. Your family shuffles out of the room to give you two some alone time while they talk to the doctor in the hallway. He takes your hand and rubs the back of it with his thumb.

Speak to me, you sign.

“Can you hear me?” he signs and asks. A new wave of tears comes rushing out. Fuck, his voice is so beautiful. “My name is Spencer.”

Your voice sounds like a sunset, you sign with a teary smile.

“I love you,” he signs and says.

Wow, so that’s what that sounds like.

I love you, you sign back.

You’re ready to start this next chapter of your life with Spencer by your side.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fiction #spencer reid fan fiction #spencer reid fan fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds fluff #cm #cm fic #cm fanfiction #cm fanfic #cm fluff

478 notes · View notes

delaware-lemme-smash · 4 months

Note

Could we have some hcs of reader referring to some of the older MHA men (coughAizawacough) as "beekeeping age" and then they make her explain it? LMAO.

For those who don’t spend all their time on TikTok like I do, ‘beekeeping age’ refers to an attractive older man, usually in 40s/50s. Some of these guys technically don’t apply but we’re putting them in anyway!

Characters: Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead, Yagi Toshinori/All Might, Maijima Higari/Power Loader, Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Contents: The existential struggle of trying to explain a meme to people who aren't chronically online.

Aizawa Shouta/Eraserhead

Age: 31

Yes, he’s only in his thirties, but Aizawa has the vibe of a retiree. He looks like someone who should be muttering “I’m too old for this shit” at any minor inconvenience. In fact, he often does. He’s said it several times today.

Most especially when you looked over at him and told him that he looks like he’s ‘beekeeping age’. Now, as a teacher, Aizawa isn’t as out of step with popular culture as he might like you to think he is. Even if he doesn’t really bother with social media himself, he has twenty students who are all hooked to their phones like it’s a dialysis machine. He picks stuff up just by proximity, and it’s not the first time he’s heard the phrase ‘beekeeping age’. And while he might have a vague idea of what it means, he’s not just going to let you get away with calling him that.

He looks straight at you, lifts an eyebrow and asks, “What does that mean?”

Which leaves you floundering a little, because you have to explain to Aizawa that it means you think of him as an attractive ‘older’ man.

While he’s the furthest thing from vain, he finds himself a little bit offended.

“What the hell do you mean ‘older’? I’m thirty-one.”

“You have to admit, Shouta, you do give off the vibe of a grizzled older man.”

“I’m too old for this shit.”

Yagi Toshinori/All Might

Age: 55+

Toshinori’s the only one who really qualifies for this trope, and naturally, he has absolutely no idea what you’re referring to when you tell him that he’s beekeeping age. He grins uncertainly at you.

“I’m…not sure if that’s a compliment or not, but I’ve always thought that beekeeping looks like a relaxing hobby! As long as you’re not allergic!”

Of course, you take a little pity on him and explain that it means he’s a hot older guy.

“Oh, are you referring to a DILF?”

Once you’re done spraying your coffee or whatever you were drinking everywhere, you demand to know where Toshinori heard that word and if he knows what it means. Let’s be real, Toshinori doesn’t run his own social media and doesn’t know squat about memes.

“Oh, a charming young lady walked up to me at a signing once and informed me I am what the young people call a DILF. Still can’t get anyone to tell me what it means! Slang these days! Ha!”

I dare you to try and get Toshinori to refer to himself as a DILF in front of Aizawa. Just for the hell of it.

Maijima Higari/Power Loader

Age: 41

Higari can’t catch a break. Not only is he very short and look a couple decades younger than he actually is, leading to a lot of unfortunate misunderstandings, now he has some whippersnapper calling telling him to go start a beehive.

He’s probably the only one on this list that actually knows what it means. I feel like because he’s so in line with cutting edge technology that he’s pretty on top of social media as well? He doesn’t seem like the type to lose step with the rest of the world when it comes to these things. So you don’t even have to explain what you mean when you tell him he’s beekeeping age.

“Buzz off.”

Sasaki Mirai/Sir Nighteye

Age: 38

At first Sir Nighteye thinks you’re making some kind of joke. He stares you down, looking rather menacing even while his mind is turning over the phrase ‘beekeeping age’, looking for the pun or the play on words. When he can’t find it, he finally has to admit defeat and ask you gravely:

“What does that mean?”

Sir Nighteye’s a little put out when you tell him it’s about good looking older men, because he doesn’t consider himself particularly old. Pacify him by telling him that he just gives off the dignified air of a mature man. He might scoff, but he’ll be somewhat more mollified.

“I suppose I can accept that as a compliment. Although I think you ought to come up with better jokes. That one didn’t even contain a pun.”

#delaware lemme smash #bnha #bnha headcanons #bnha imagines #Aizawa Shouta #Eraserhead #All Might #Yagi Toshinori #Maijima Higari #Power Loader #Sasaki Mirai #Sir Nighteye #bnha x reader #Aizawa x Reader #All Might x reader #Power Loader x reader #Sir Nighteye x reader #Mod Rig

449 notes · View notes

seat-safety-switch · 7 months

Text

All across the world, there is a rush by marketeers to sell you new appliances. The last couple decades of increasingly-shitty build quality have failed to plump their margins enough, so now they're trying the carrot. Now, when you buy a refrigerator, it can be connected to the internet. Some ovens need to be connected to the internet, or they can't cook a turkey. If you went back in time and explained this state of affairs to someone in the Victorian Era, they'd shoot you.

When did our civilization lose its inherent distrust of machines pretending to be human? Half of our most popular science-fiction franchises are about a glad-handing, smiling robot trying to steal or murder our children. Now we're going to let a refrigerator lock down access to nutrients for those same children, because it couldn't resolve DNS? No more of this, I say, which is why I've started a new business.

Here at Appliance Endumbinators, our crack team of computer scientists, computer engineers, and angry people with hammers will work hard to remove any semblance of "intelligence" from your appliances. If you bought a new barbecue and it refuses to work unless you use factory-authorized propane, we'll rip its circuit boards out and splice together the miles of wiring that make up its nervous system until it gives in. We'll find your car and use an angle grinder to cut out the part of its positronic brain that obeys speed limits. And just for laughs, we'll duct-tape a thrift store alarm clock to your coffee maker, so that it can still have your brew ready for breakfast.

Book us in now, before the machines have their way with you. Become the master of your own home, comfortable with the most idiotic of automatons as you watch your neighbours suffer with thousand-page manuals, helpless service calls, and outsourced below-minimum-wage customer support just to toast a waffle.

494 notes · View notes

sunsblogs · 7 months

Text

PAPELESPRESSO - PRO+

Gaggia Classic, Lelit Mara X and Gaggia Classic Pro are three popular espresso machines that have attracted the attention of coffee lovers around the world. Gaggia Classic is a classic and reliable machine that has been on the market for decades; Lelit Mara X is a newer model with advanced features and modern aesthetics. Gaggia Classic Pro is an upgraded version of Gaggia Classic and includes various improvements and changes to improve user experience. Each machine has its own unique features, and choosing the right one depends on individual preferences and needs. The Gaggia Classic Pro is a popular machine for modifications, with a variety of special parts available to improve its performance and appearance. One of the most popular modifications is the extended drip tray and shorter water collection tank, which provides more space for larger containers and eliminates the need for frequent emptying. Other modifications include upgraded steam wands, portafilter baskets and temperature control systems. These changes can significantly improve the quality of espresso shots and the overall user experience. In addition to modifications, Gaggia Classic models also have accessory and drip tray options. The Lelit brand offers a range of accessories designed for precision and consistency, including drip trays, portafilters and tamper mats. Gaggia classic pro mods also has a variety of drip tray options, including elongated and slim designs made of stainless steel. These accessories and drip tray options not only increase the functionality of the machine, but also add a touch of style and elegance to the overall look. All in all, the Gaggia Classic, Lelit Mara X, and Gaggia classic drip tray are all excellent espresso machines with unique features and capabilities. Modifications and accessories can improve their performance and appearance, making them even more attractive to coffee lovers. When choosing between these machines, it is important to consider individual preferences and needs, as well as available modifications and accessories that can improve the user experience.

2K notes · View notes

eoieopda · 1 year

Text

reckless serenade (kth)

i’ve been trying to figure out exactly what it is i need // called up to listen to the voice of reason // and got the answering machine

Pairing: Kim Taehyung x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot - Sequel to The Bad Thing drabble. Summary: Your husband hasn’t looked at you in months, but his co-worker, Kim Taehyung, can’t take his eyes off you. Word Count: 4K, with 2K+ being smut, lmao. Content: SMUT - 18+; Taehyung's POV; infidelity; reader's husband really is just The Worst; oral sex (m and f receiving); multiple orgasms; face-sitting; penetrative sex (p in v); tbh it doesn't explicitly state whether it's protected or unprotected sex, so??; moral quandaries; Taehyung gets his own fucking warning tbh. A/N: This Taehyung is back by popular demand. This picks up where the drabble left off, so go read that if you haven’t! Actual note and tags are at the end :)

You’d returned to the table separately, several minutes apart, to quell suspicion.

As it turned out, the subtlety hadn’t been unnecessary. Nobody batted an eye when Taehyung sat down after a prolonged absence; and, as expected, your husband’s lecherous gaze hadn’t left the waitress long enough to find you missing. So, when you’d slid back into the seat at Taehyung’s side, no one knew your dirty little secret.

Secrets. Plural.

Park Ji-won might never know that you’d just orgasmed thrice, only a few meters away behind an unlocked door. Or that Taehyung’s orgasm was still lingering where he left it, staining the inside of your little lace panties. Or that the wedding ring he’d bought for his pretty, young bride was still in Taehyung’s pocket, rolling between the fingers that now knew you inside and out.

Definitely not that you’d left that ring in Taehyung’s possession with the promise of retrieving it after dinner — if you even wanted that tacky thing back in the first place.

When the bill came, Taehyung’s co-workers — your husband included — whined like petulant fucking children that the twelve bottles of liquor they’d consumed were fully accounted for. Out of habit, Taehyung glowered and turned to see how you were reacting, only to find that you’d done the same.

There was a wry smile tugging at your lips when you whispered, “Well, well, well… if it isn’t the consequences of their own actions.”

He’d snorted into his glass of water, watched his life flash before his eyes, and — thankfully — managed to swallow down his laughter before he could choke on it.

Is this the personality your husband misses out on, listening to everyone but you?

Taehyung, keeper of the company’s black card, bowed to the waitress as he handed it over. She’d smiled at him — the first genuine one he’d seen from her all night — and scurried off to close out what had likely been one of the worst shifts of her life thus far.

Normally, he’d feel the same: eager to leave and get the fuck away from the ghouls he already spent too much time with. So annoyed by their lack of manners and restraint that his rage would carry him out the door, to his car, and home again without either foot seeming to come in contact with the ground. He’d levitate this time, too, but for different reasons.

Instead, Taehyung flew home on thoughts of you. He’d replayed the way you shivered when he pulled your chair out for you and helped you into your coat. Like a rose petal in his palm, so fucking delicate, he’d carried the memory of your hand bumping innocently against his on his way out the door. And as he drove, he thought of what you’d said under your breath.

Am I a consequence of your husband’s actions, too?

Taehyung has been home for two hours now, and he still doesn’t know what the fuck to do with himself.

He doesn’t bother turning on the television; he’d never be able to focus on whatever would end up flashing across the screen. He doesn’t pick up one of the many books in that untouched, yet ever-growing pile on his coffee table. His gaze keeps flicking hopefully towards his front door, as if staring at it with intention will manifest you on the other side.

What if you changed your mind? What if you'd been caught out? What the hell was Taehyung supposed to do with your wedding ring if you never came back for it?

Fuck. Shit! Motherfu—

His catastrophizing is cut short by a quiet knock on the door. Three shy taps in quick succession, they mirror the way Taehyung’s heart is thudding against his rib cage. He ignores the anticipation turning cartwheels in his stomach as he pushes himself off the couch and makes his way to you.

Even though you’d announced your intentions earlier, Taehyung is still semi-shocked when he opens the door and sees you standing on his doorstep. The look in your eyes tells him that you’re surprised, too. At yourself, maybe, for following this rabbit hole down to the bottom. Or at him, because he hadn’t used any of the past two hours to change from his suit into something less stuffy.

You did change, he notes immediately. You’ve traded in your dress and stilettos for active wear; and Taehyung really might die now, jealous of leggings that smooth over your curves like water. It’s the comfort that really has him fucked up, though. The hair in a loose knot on top of your head, the barely-there stain of pink on your lips now that your lipstick has been discarded.

“There you are,” He hums with a tilt of his head. There on his doorstep; there in real time; there in what he can guess is your usual state. Fucking perfect. “Wasn’t sure if you changed your mind.”

You cross your arms, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and tilt your head just the same. “I didn't,” you breeze, “I was conducting an endurance test.”

“Oh?” Taehyung chuckles softly, “Do tell.”

“I wanted to see how long I could tolerate sitting home, alone, without even a texted excuse – and without going out of my mind.”

“Two hours? Impressive.”

“Forty-five minutes,” You correct him, eyes twinkling, “I just got really, really lost on my way here.”

“Even more impressive.” Taehyung grins as he opens the door and steps aside to invite you in.

You slink through the gap; and he can’t tell if the way you brush against him is intentional or not. Then, you toe off your sneakers and leave them on the mat next to the door. You look up at him, but he’s still looking at your shoes.

Plausible deniability, he realizes. Just in case tonight is the first night that your husband cares where you are — out on a run.

Taehyung pushes the thought away, tears his gaze off of those Nikes, and refocuses on you. Ignoring the million things he wants to do to you, he nods up the hall to his kitchen. “Care for a drink? I’ve got an incredible bottle of Bordeaux from Pomerol.”

“Just one bottle?” Your tiny smirk weakens his resolve even further. If he didn't love these little exchanges so much, he'd be worshipping you by now. “Not twelve?”

The most perplexing thing about you isn’t how quick-witted you are. Taehyung’s seen it in every conversation he’s ever had with you; and he waits patiently for it, every time. The twist is how subtle you are with your little quips. Perfectly understated, they’ll fly right under the radar of anyone who doesn’t expect them.

Does your husband even know to look?

He leads and you follow until you’re both standing in his kitchen. You take in your surroundings while you nibble thoughtfully on your bottom lip. Taehyung digs through a poorly organized drawer for a corkscrew he’s not sure he even owns.

Now, he’s nervous. This is the part where you find out he’s not a wine guy. He spent every step here praying that you wouldn’t ask him a single question about that Bordeaux because he couldn’t tell you a goddamn thing about it — except that it was a gift from a client, and that he hadn’t opened it because he prefers beer.

You, on the other hand, enjoy wine. If you do end up drinking at the firm events you attend, that’s what you choose. While your husband is off somewhere, drowning in hard liquor, Taehyung is laughing with you and your glass at a table. When the night’s over, he replays the sight of your tongue darting out over your lips, collecting the excess maroon that lingers when you pull your glass away.

Taehyung can’t point out Pomerol on a map and, as it turns out, he can barely operate a wine-opener. Thankfully, you have your back turned and your eyes fixed on the wall calendar full of shit he intends to blow off. You don’t glance back at him until, with a pop, he finally yanks the mangled cork from the bottle’s neck.

Before he can turn to the counter and grab two wine glasses from the rack hanging overhead, you’re already on task. On tiptoe, reaching up, up, up, you let out a frustrated whine when you still come up short. On instinct, Taehyung steps into the space behind you. You lean back against him while he secures one glass in each hand; he feels the heat radiating off your body and nearly drops them.

Not that he would mind.

It’s so hard to give a shit about this wine with the curve of your ass so near to his dick, but he’s a better host than he is a co-worker, so he slips away to pour you a drink. Once he’s finished, he holds yours out to you.

If he were drunk by now, he could’ve blamed it on the alcohol, but he swears there’s a faint crackle of electricity when your fingertips brush against his.

You close your eyes and inhale through your nose. “Mmm,” you hum appreciatively, eyes re-opening to blink up at him, “Smells incredible, doesn’t it?”

Taehyung has no fucking clue because he forgot to fill a glass for himself. He doesn’t care if you notice, either; he’s too transfixed by the sight of your lips parting as you bring your glass to your mouth. You take that burgundy in, the column of your throat bobs as you swallow, and he’s waiting for it – waiting for it – waiting for it...

It’s such an innocent action, the tip of your tongue swiping over your lip, but it sets off something primal in him.

Bordering on feral, Taehyung sets his still-empty glass back on the granite surface of the island and takes four, wide steps to you. A little gasp tumbles out when his hands claim your waist, but it isn’t surprise. Pupils suddenly blown wide, it’s want that prompts you to discard your drink beside his and tangle both hands in his hair.

Though he’s wanted to for years, this is the first time Taehyung has ever kissed you. It’s carnal. You kiss him back, and it’s all clicking teeth, whimpers, and desperate, clinging fingers. Insatiable, too, and it tastes like fancy French wine.

You’re starving for it, he knows, and you whine when his tongue leaves yours lonely. That pout could convince him, without a word, to rob a bank at gunpoint.

Who the fuck would leave you home alone?

“Angel,” Taehyung pants, locking eyes with you. He runs the pad of his thumb over your flushed cheek and feels the way you shiver. “I’m not above fucking you in this kitchen, but after fucking you in a public restroom, I think you’ve earned a bit more comfort than that.”

“Oh, fuck – just like that, angel. Shit!"

You’re on your knees between his spread legs with his throbbing length down your throat and your hair flicked over your shoulder. It’d all spilled from your top-knot a while ago, and Taehyung remains thankful for the shitty construction of that elastic band. Now, he has some part of you to hold while the rest of your body is out of reach.

Every instinct is telling Taehyung to throw his head back against the pillow – with his eyes screwed shut and his mouth hanging open – but then he’d miss the way you keep looking up at him under dark eyelashes. Wet eyes blink as your ravenous mouth works magic, and goddamn, this talent has been going to waste for years.

If he lets your ministrations continue, he’ll be dead long before he can pay you back – with interest. Buried before he can thank you properly for your service with his face between your thighs. So, Taehyung swallows hard, cards his fingers through your hair, and gently guides you off of him.

He’s committed a lot of sins in the past six hours, but interrupting your medal-worthy exhibition feels like the worst of them.

Your voice is a bit hoarse from how much of him you’d taken and how’d deeply you taken him. Wiping at the spit that slicks your chin, you look self-conscious when you rasp, “Is something wrong?”

“No,” Taehyung shakes his head firmly though most – definitely not all – of him feels like gelatin. “Fuck no, sweets. That’s why I have to stop you.”

Sitting back on your knees, you pout, and he melts. He’s already spent too much time wondering how your husband can leave you on the sidelines – but that was before Taehyung knew what face you make when you don’t get your way.

Goodbye world, he thinks. He’ll never get out of this bed as long as you’re in it.

He beckons you with a curl of his finger, wholly unprepared for the ramifications of his decision to do so. Now, you’re straddling him, hovering overhead with your face mere centimeters away from his. You lean in when he cradles your jaw in his hand. So sweet, you smile a little when you feel the tickle of his breath warm your lips.

“Ride me.”

Taehyung can’t help himself; he’s nearly pleading. You smirk and move your hand down towards the cock leaking all over his stomach. He reaches out, taps under your chin, and stops you in your tracks. You burn pink when he clarifies, “Not there.”

This idea has you frozen in place. Worse, there’s a speck of anxiety blooming in your eyes; and Taehyung doesn’t have to guess why. He’ll add this to the infinite list of ways Park Ji-won has fucking failed you.

Taehyung was already propped up on his elbow, but now he sits up fully to meet you where you are. “Hey,” he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your chin before kissing you, “Only if it’s what you want. For what it’s worth –”

Fuck, you look so shy.

He kisses you again. “I want you to fuck yourself on my tongue –” And again. “Until you’ve taken back every orgasm –” Another kiss, and you whimper, “You’ve been deprived of.”

When Taehyung’s eyes flicker back to yours, there’s a new sense of determination burning in your irises. Even better, there’s a brief twitch in your jaw as you place your palm against his bare chest and push him back down against the mattress.

You’re a force of nature every day of the week, but as you crawl over him, it’s the most powerful he’s ever seen you look.

Your hands take hold of the headboard as you lower yourself down towards his mouth, which is already watering at the mere thought of tasting you. Pausing with your slick center just out of his reach, you glance down at Taehyung. He tilts his head to the side, nips playfully at your inner thigh, then soothes the sting with a slow swipe from his tongue.

He doesn’t say a word, but you hear him, nonetheless. Keep going. You do, and you both groan when his mouth meets your cunt.

Finally.

Tongue teasing at your clit, Taehyung’s hands on your thighs pull you down harder. He refuses to accept the shyness keeping distance between you. No, he demands your full weight; all of you.

Angel that you are, you acquiesce and grant permission for him to devour you fully. Taehyung can’t hear you keening over the suckling, slurping, and panting, but he can feel it in the way your thigh muscles clench around his head.

His name rings out clear as a bell, though, right before your whole body begins to shake.

“F-fuck!” You squeak, crumpling forward.

Taehyung suspects that your orgasm is too heavy to face sitting upright, but whatever the reason is, it’s bringing your fluttering cunt closer and closer to him; and he has no plans to stop at one. Spit-slicked and gushing over his mouth, the way you begin to grind against him says that you aren’t tapping out, either.

It’s a start, but he wants more from you. To coax it out, Taehyung pushes his fingertips deeper into the flesh of your legs and pleads with you to give him everything you have. You listen – so fucking well – and drop one hand from the headboard to grip his hair.

Yes, he screams inside his head. Use me, angel, just like that. And you do, rolling your hips against his mouth, tugging at his curls until he feels that incredible sting at his roots.

You come a second time with his tongue darting inside your hole, nose brushing against your clit. Insatiable, both of you, he forces out a third before those aftershocks can even subside.

Taehyung gasps for air when you wriggle away from him. You’re equally out-of-breath when you collapse sideways onto the bed and rest your trembling body against his. When he turns his head to look over at you, he expects to find you with your eyes closed, fully spent. Instead, despite your fluttering eyelids, you stare right back at him.

The way your fingertip traces soft spirals across his chest has his brain spinning, too. For reasons he can’t explain, that delicate touch feels infinitely more intimate than the million ways he’s touched you over the course of the night. It’s the most at-peace he’s felt, too, but you throw a curveball to keep him on his toes.

“Not tired already, are you?” You tease with a devilish grin before placing a kiss on his bicep. When he laughs incredulously at you – you minx – you keep those little kisses coming until they're trailing up the curve of his shoulder.

Taehyung is a firm believer in showing, not simply telling. Catching you completely off-guard, he rolls over until you’re pinned beneath him, head caged between his arms. Your surprise left you in a gasp, but the shock has already given way when he ducks down to nibble at the side of your neck.

You moan when he nips at your earlobe; you miss the way he smirks against your skin because your eyes have fluttered shut again. Who's tired now? He growls low from his chest to recapture your attention, “How do you want it, beautiful?”

Everywhere, all the time, like I do?

Taehyung suckles at a spot below your jaw, and he doesn’t give a fuck if your husband finds his calling card. You don’t either, it seems; you whimper and roll your head to the side to increase his access.

You keen as you place your hands on his shoulder and dig your nails into his skin, “Dealer’s choice, just – please fuck me.” It sounds close enough to a cry when you continue, “I need you inside of me – now.”

How could he ever say no when you beg like that?

Your poor thighs have been through enough, so Taehyung keeps you where you are: nestled underneath him with your heaving chest brushing against his with every breath. You spread your legs to create space for him, then cross your ankles behind his back when you feel his tip tease at your entrance.

He has to fight to keep his eyes open when he enters you; unwilling to miss a second of the way your mouth falls open, even though you’re too vexed to audibly moan. He’s not – not yet, anyway – and he can't keep quiet when your wet heat envelops him.

Slowly to start, Taehyung grinds against you, pushing his cock further into your cunt until he’s buried to the hilt. “Holy shit,” he grunts.

You’re dripping. There are rivulets of you spilling over his length, coating him all the way down. Still, your walls grip him tightly enough to dot stars behind his eyelids. Squeezing, daring him to move but fighting him as he tries to leave. You’ll milk him dry, sooner rather than later.

“I’ll never get over this – could fuck you every day, and it wouldn’t be enough.”

Whimpers spill out of you as he continues to rut against you, stretch you open for him. Your nails dig half-moons into his arms, and they sting, but Taehyung wants every single souvenir you’re willing to give him. He’d archive every touch if he could; play every mewl of yours on a loop, and savor the way it feels when you orgasm around his cock.

“So, don’t stop,” You pant, gripping his jaw and pulling him close enough to kiss. Against his lips, you repeat your demand, “Don’t ever stop.”

Taehyung is still trying to determine which version of you has him most fucked in the head.

He thought it was you and your little, black dress and heels. The version of you that followed the man who took your wedding ring into a public restroom; fucked him; and then left without your ring.

Then, he met the version of you that dresses down for clandestine, extra-marital dick appointments. A dark horse, certainly, but then there's the one who wore nothing at all; who shook, and cried, and came all over his face.

The best thing, he realizes, came last.

It's you in his crewneck, towel-drying your hair in his bathroom while he brushes his teeth. You, saying you'll stay – just this once – because you know for a fact that your husband never came home. You with your chin resting on his chest as your sleepy gaze struggles to focus on him.

Taehyung had figured that you were too tired to speak, so you startle him with your voice; even more so with the deep frown working its way over your face. With how much you shrink when you say, "I think I'm a bad person."

"Why, because you're here?"

You nod. His heart drops, though not because he didn't expect this. Rubbing gentle circles into your back, Taehyung inhales, deep in thought. There's a lot he wants to say, but significantly less that he can even begin to articulate. He can't say the quiet part out loud, even though it's screaming through his skull.

Maybe if your husband was a good person, you wouldn't be where you are right now. Maybe if he loved you, he would be home to notice that you weren't.

He tries his best, sighing, "I think people are a lot more complicated than that."

This thought catches your attention. Your chin digs into him slightly as you tilt your curious head to the side. Cute.

He continues, "I think we're given a hand of cards – some of them great, most of them shitty – and we do our best to play them well. You know, to the extent that we can."

"Do you really believe that, or are you trying to make me feel better?" You smirk, playfully tugging at the waistband of his boxers.

Taehyung exhales forcefully through his nose and tucks a runaway strand of damp hair behind your ear, "Does it matter?"

tagging: @borahae-k @i-purple-buff-bunni @pamzn @myimaginationsrunningwild @nonbinary-demonbrat @mgthecat @btschimeyplanet @jihopesjoint @jaejoontrashpanda @taebaelove @cyanide-mustard @xjoonchildx @jkoofier (couldn't tag) @bbyorchid (couldn't tag) @persphonesorchid @sncx3 @hersheytheekiss (couldn't tag) @iammisstora @quarter-life-crisis2 @here2bbtstrash @dvalitaes @1dsn @iadelicacy

want to be on my permanent bts taglist? sign up here.

likes are always appreciated, but it's feedback that means the most — whether that's in a comment below, PM, reblog, tags, etc. tysm for reading ✨

A/N: So, by now, you've noticed that the original drabble and this fic are both in Tae's POV. I did not want to tell the reader how to feel about this. I wanted it to be as open-to-interpretation as possible, and I really, really, really wanna know what y'all think about the thing I didn't clarify: Do you think (1) they actually have feelings for each other; (2) Taehyung loves the idea of her and feels like he's "saving" her; (3) Reader just wants to be wanted, for once; or (4) it's a combination of things? HMMMM.

1K notes · View notes

pitchsidestories · 2 months

Text

To Rome with Love II Valentina Giacinti x Engen!Reader

masterlist I word count: 2083

a/n: based off this lovely request. Valentina is really underrated in our opinion . <3

The afternoon sun made the Italian pitch and the players which were on it appear golden.

It only seemed fitting because your team, the AS Roma was celebrating a big win with the home crowd when you heard a Norwegian voice you were all too familiar with: “Great game, big sister!”

“Ingrid!”, you shouted surprised, turning around, before jumping into the arms of your little sister.

“Hi.”, she beamed at you, while pulling you into a tight hug.

For a moment you closed your eyes letting the scent which smelt of home wash over you. “It’s so great to see you., you mumbled, behind her you spotted her girlfriend, so you added with a wide grin on your face, you too, Mapi.”

The defender laughed warmly: “Good to see you too.”

“Will you stay overnight? And do you want to join our team party later?”, with a hopeful tone you asked them.

Happily, Ingrid nodded:” Of course we do.”

“We never say no to a party.”, the tattooed Spanish woman continued mischievously smiling.

“Great, so I can finally introduce you to all my teammates.”, you hummed delighted.

Excited the midfielder clapped into her hands: ”Please.”

At night when the heat of the day was slowly cooling down, was the time when Rome, the ancient city really came alive. Buzzing from that glorious win the Roma team was meeting in a popular club and your teammates were eager to get to know your sister and her girlfriend.

The first who came up to the three of you was Manuela who talked not only through her mouth but vividly with her hands as well: “ So this is the more famous little Engen sister, nice to meet you!”

“That big mouth is Manuela.”, you introduced the Italian midfielder to your family, rolling playfully your eyes at her.

Politely Ingrid replied:” Nice to meet you, Manuela.”

“And you already know Emilie from our national team. Next to her is Laura, we both joined Roma last summer.”, you explained.

Mapi winked at the Austrian: ”Oh, we do know Laura already.”

“Why didn’t you take Keira with you, Mapi?”, Laura responded, throwing an eyebrow up.

The defender waved it off: “You know your girlfriend. She prefers to visit you alone.”

“Yes, okay, you’re right about that.”, Keira Walsh’s partner admitted, her smile growing bigger as she thought about the English Barcelona midfielder.

Meanwhile, Valentina who you didn’t saw coming until she wrapped her muscular arms around you, whispered a bit impatiently into your ear: “Don’t you want to introduce me to your sister too?”

You could feel your cheeks redden as you gestured towards Valentina; “Girls, this is Vale… Valentina.“

You noticed Ingrids curious glance in your direction but she only smiled politely at your teammate; “Nice to finally get to know you, Valentina. My sister said you really helped her settle in when she moved here.“

“To be fair, it wasn’t as hard as expected. She’s almost a full Italian now.“, Valentina replied with a laugh.

Offended, you raised your eyebrows at the real Italian; “Almost?!“

“Almost.“, she confirmed, smirking unimpressed about your remark.

Your sister interrupted the two of you, tilting her head with curiosity; “What is still Norwegian about her?“

Without missing a beat, Valentina answered; “The way she drinks her coffee.“

“I love to do kokekaffe while she just uses her beloved espresso machine.“, you rolled your eyes.

Nodding, your sister agreed; “Good coffee just takes time. I’m on your side on that.“

“I’m not.“, Mapi interjected with a shrug and an apologetic smile towards her girlfriend.

Valentinas interest was piqued; “Bet you love espresso too, Mapi.“

“I do. I love my moka pot for that. I even got it tattooed.“, the Spanish defender told her excitedly. She shrugged out of her cardigan and showed the tattoo on her bare arm to Valentina.

Her eyes glinted as she examined it; “Oh my god! I love it!“

Satisfied with the reaction, Mapi smiled; “It’s pretty cool, right?“

“Yes, it is.“

While they continued their conversation about coffee-themed tattoos, you felt Camelia impatiently drag on your arm; “Come on, time to dance!“

She took your hand in hers and led you to the dance floor. On the way, you waved over to your sister; “You too, Mapi and Ingrid!“

“We’re coming too!“, your sister yelled back.

You gave her thumbs-up; “Perfect!“

Mapi only grimaced at her girlfriend; “Dancing?“

“It’s fun, love.“, Ingrid replied and dragged Mapi along with her. You quickly lost them in the dancing crowd but you were distracted anyway by Valentinas hands on your hips and her mouth close to your ear; “You’ve danced with half of the team already. Now it’s my turn.“

“Do you still have energy for that, Vale?“, you smirked, turning towards her.

Valentinas eyes searched for yours in the dim light; “You’d be surprised by how much energy I still have.“

The rasp in her voice made you shiver for a second but you concealed it by smirking at her; “You can show it to me now and later.“

“Oh I will.“

Biting your lip, you changed the topic; “Let’s dance.“

“Sure.“, she shrugged, pulling you closer as you two started moving to the rhythm of the music.

A few meters away from you Ingrid asked her girlfriend interested:” Who do you think my sister is dating in her team. She hasn’t told me yet.”

“Oh, it’s pretty obvious.”, Mapi said with a mischievous smile lightening up her face.

Glancing at you dancing with her, your sister observed: “Definitely Valentina.”

“See.”, the defender agreed.

Twirling around the dance floor, Ingrid thought out loud:” Bet the whole team already knows about them.”

“Probably. I mean look at them.”, the Spanish woman pointed at your direction, where Valentina got suspiciously touchy for a teammate.

Your sister smiled as she confessed: “Valentina is taller than I thought.”

“I think she’s the perfect height for your sister.”, Mapi replied.

“Agreed.”

“It’s cute. But not as cute as we are.”, with these cheeky words out the older woman kissed the younger Norwegian.

“Of course not.”, Ingrid laughed.

Gingerly the defender apologized:” Sorry.”

You two have seen the girlfriends looking at you from across the dance floor, that’s why Valentina stated amused:” Your sister and her girlfriend are gossiping about us.”

“You’re right.”

The Italian looked at you in confusion:” I thought you didn’t tell your sister about us?”

“I didn’t.”, you quickly reassured her.

She exhaled deeply before offering:” Do you want to leave?”

“Yes.”, swiftly you went up to Ingrid and Mapi.

Clearing your throat, you wanted to know from them:” Will I see you two for breakfast tomorrow?”

“At your place?”, your sister asked.

“Yes.”

The Barcelona midfielder promised: “We’ll be there.”

“Can’t wait.”, you told them beaming.

Knowing how exhausting an important match day could be, Ingrid hugged you: “Good night, y/n.”

On the following day, the sunlight already graced your bed, you enjoyed the warmth on your skin and from your girlfriend who was laying next to you. She could already sense that you were awake too.

Besides being already more awake than you Valentina’s voice was still full of sleep:” Morning, beautiful.”

“Good morning.”, you mumbled, slowly opening your eyes, catching the sight of the sheepishly smiling Italian, like every morning since you two became a couple you softly kissed her lips.

After she replied to your kiss, the forward padded your thigh: “Time to get up.”

“Five more minutes in bed, please.”, you sighed dramatically.

Amused by your theatrics which was usually her job on and off the football pitch, Valentina gave in: ”Okay, fine.”

“Those mornings with you are my favourite part of the day.”, you confessed your head placed onto her chest.

You watched your girlfriends mouth turn into a slight smirk while she replied; “They are my least favourite part because soon I’ll have to share you again with the team.“

“Sorry. So you prefer the evenings?“, you chuckled.

Valentina tilted her head like she had to think about the answer; “I do. Although you look really cute after you woke up so you might convince me to like the mornings more.“

Lazily, you grinned up to her; “You look cuter with your curls all messed up.“

“Five minutes are over. Time to get going. I have to fix my hair.“, Valentina ended the conversation, carefully shoving you off her upper body and sitting up.

You were about to pout and convince her to stay in bed but your sisters voice echoing through your apartment startled you.

“Hi, we got the goods.“

Her voice was clearly coming from your kitchen and you could basically see them putting down a bag with delicious pastries on the table.

You exchanged a panicked look with Valentina; “Shit!“

Cursing under her breath, your girlfriend jumped out of your bed and sprinted to the adjacent bathroom; “You deal with them. I’ll be fixing my hair.“

“Okay, no problem.“, you replied while you slipped into your clothes and opened the bedroom door to greet Ingrid and Mapi; “Hi, lovelies!“

Your sister however seemed to look right through you. She raised her eyebrow; “Are we too early?“

You shook your head innocently; “No, you’re right on time. Do you want a cup of coffee?“

“Sure.“, Ingrid replied and sat down while you got to work.

You set four cups of coffee on the kitchen table; “Here you go.“

“Thank you.“, your sister smile while she wrapped her hands around the warm mug and breathed in the smell of the freshly brewed coffee.

You sat down next to her, taking a sip from your own mug; “You’re welcome.“

You barely even noticed Mapis disappearance from the kitchen until two simultaneous screams interrupted your peaceful morning. You and your sister immediately got up to see what had happened and found both of you girlfriends standing in the open bathroom door.

“Don’t scare me like that ever again!“, Mapi scolded but even she had to laugh about the situation.

Valentina grimaced; “Why would you even come into the bathroom?“

The Spanish defender shook her head; “Because I needed to use the toilet. Oh my poor heart.“ She theatrically put a hand to her chest.

“Have you ever heard of knocking?“, the Italian asked, rolling her eyes.

“I didn’t know you’d be here but I should have guessed you’re. You Italians are not subtle at all.“, Mapi grinned.

Valentina grimaced, more offended than confused; “Excuse me?!“

“We knew it straight away actually.“, Ingrid joined to discussion with a nonchalant shrug.

The Italian seemed surprised by your sisters observation skills:”How?”

“The way you talked about and danced with eachother.”, the defender answered promptly.

Slowly Valentina shook her head:” No one else in our team knows.”

“Oh, trust me they do, we asked Laura.”, Ingrid disagreed amused.

Thrown off by that your girlfriend asked: “Excuse me?”

“Laura told you that?”, you added equally confused.

Self-assured Ingrid nodded: “She did.”

“Oh wow.”, you mumbled.

To sum up the situation your sister concluded: “So they know. Everyone knows.”

“Why did you two kept it a secret anyway?”, Mapi lifted one eyebrow curiously while looking at both of you intensely waiting for a reply.

Turning red Valentina stated honestly:” We didn’t.”

“But you didn’t say anything either.”, Ingrid countered immediately, her face showing a little bit of disappointment that you didn’t share this important information about your life with her while she was willing to tell you everything straight away after it happened.

Trying to cheer her up you changed the topic to something more light-hearted in nature:” But now that all know, don’t you think it’s time for breakfast? Hopefully the coffee didn’t get too cold.”

“About time!”, Mapi grinned.

Smiling, you promised them:” No more waiting.”

And you meant it, it was no more waiting for the closest to show them who you fell in love with in Rome. When you joined the club in the summer it was Valentina who played the best tourist guide with you, showing you the beautiful sights of the capitol of Italy and the best restaurants in town. Life never tasted as good as in Rome.

Over a glass of wine, on a late summer’s evening, she asked you if you wanted to be her girlfriend, there was only one obvious answer to it.

Now, Valentina hugged you from behind, whispering hopeful into your ear:” That was quite an eventful start into the day I hope for a calmer evening.”

#valentina giacinti #valentina giacinti x reader #woso x reader #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #woso one shot #woso community #italy wnt #as roma women #ingrid engen #ingrid engen x reader #ingrid engen imagine #mapi leon #mapi leon x reader #mapi leon imagine #laura feiersinger #manuela giugliano #fcb femeni

168 notes · View notes

reclinepilled · 3 months

Text

coffee beans

cw: nothing other than language and cheesiness 😭 no fem/masc reader, completely up to you.

desc: barista!ellie hates her job until a cute customer catches her eye and jesse helps her out

a/n: this is my first post, i didn’t lnow wjat to write so i kinda just blurted something out so sorry if this is bad😓 this is extremely cheesy as well, but i like that stuff! i love feedback (not rude) as well <3 also none of the dividers i use are mine, except for the solid colored ones. ill have to find the creator of the really cute ones.. other than that enjoy! <3333 reblogs are welcomed

wc: 1k

PLEASE READ HERE TO HELP PALESTINE.

working in a busy coffee shop, full of bright colors, with people all around, posing for their hopefully viral posts, wasn’t exactly ellie’s “dream job”. the hordes of people that came in during the winter should be illegal. she’d rather be helping people find vinyl’s they’d been searching the markets for, or maybe starting a band straight out of joel’s garage with her close group of friends.

though, she became accustomed to being here. whatever helped her with the stressful expenses she has to pay as a college student.

she rang up the same order that had gained popularity on some app, which felt like the millionth time today. she lets out a sigh, not even looking up, “your total will be 17.20, cash or card?”

“card, please,” your eager voice responds to an unamused barista. that’s when ellie actually looks up. she scans your features, adorned in a little snow, immediately taken aback. her saying you were gorgeous would be an understatement.

she took in your radiant skin, under the annoying glow of the menus above the prep area behind her. and your eyes. they were so captivating and comforting. the way they were all doe made her heart flutter a little, she swears.

you were a lot different than the other girls that came into the shop, all carbon copies of each other. it made her question reality honestly. however, you were different in every aspect. from your style to your energy, she just had to have you.

“o-of course, just tap it here,” ellie clears her throat and spins the payment machine around, looking up at you. you follow her instructions as you notice her hands. they we’re slender and looked fairly cold but so soft, you thought. her short, messy hair was charming. her style that made her look like someone’s grandpa was also very attractive, for some odd reason you felt like a creep being attracted to a worker, who looks like she very much hates her job as is.

“thank you. your order will be done shortly, pretty,” ellie says flashing you a smile. you blink a couple of times, malfunctioning from a compliment you hear quite often. you smile and nod, feeling your face heat up.

as ellie watches you walk off, she jogs to the kitchen in the back. “jesse?” ellie looks around looking for him. “i’m over here ellie, what’s up?” he looks up at her from a drink he was crafting. “can i take out this order please?” ellie shows him the freshly printed receipt. “less work for me? sure,” he says as he continues to to make one of the orders. “yesss,” ellie grabs your order off of the counter next to jesse and heads out of the kitchen.

now taking a seat at booth far off in the corner, you take off your tote bag and rip off your scarf. you look out of the window next to the comfy booth, in awe of the snow falling so gracefully. your attention was stolen by the outside environment, until you felt the presence of someone walking over. you quickly snap your head to the culprit. that culprit being the barista holding your order.

“it’s finished already?” you say, surprised. “well, you could say that..” ellie hands your order over, that had actually been for someone else who ordered before you. she was just really eager to just talk to you. your eyes lit up excitedly, she found that really cute. you take a sip happily.

“your shirt,” you say looking at her torso, “i love that band so much, even though they are newer. their music is very different,” you say, now looking back up at her. “yea, i totally agree,” ellie awkwardly leans on the booth seat opposite to you. truth is, ellie had no idea who this band was. it was just a random shirt she picked up from walmart, honestly.

“um anyways, i like your outfit. not everyday i see someone as stylish as you,” she motions to your cute leg warmers. “really? thank you,” you sort of giggle as you say that. ellie found that cute too, she was so far in.

what ellie thought was going smoothly and definitely not awkward, was interrupted by her coworker.

“ellie, wrap it up. i can’t be working in the back and working the register,” a man with a wolfy haircut says as he grabs ellie’s shoulder.

“jesse, fuck off. i am clearly preoccupied,” ellie’s demeanor quickly changes as she rolls her eyes, turning to him. jesse grabs his heart, looking offended. he was obviously being sarcastic. “i just blessed you and you’re cursing me out?”

“yo- you didn’t bless me.. i’m helping you”

“want me to help you and speed this up?” jesse pulls out a notepad from his tool pouch, hastily writing something down. you hold back from letting out a boisterous laugh from their interaction.

“jesse, the hell are you writing,” she says through gritted teeth, clearly embarrassed. ellie tries to read what he’s written, but jesse is already ripping it out handing you the paper. “jesse, just stop, she’s already paid!” ellie’s eyes widen with anger from annoyance.

“yea i’ve-“ jesse cuts you off, “don’t worry, just read it,” he flashes you a quick smile as he walks back to the counter.

you read the paper as you slowly smile, then you look up at ellie. you hand her the paper. ellies face immediately turns all fifty shades of red. “god, i hate him sometimes. he’s so.. childish,” ellie says as she balls the paper up, looking away to hide her embarrassment.

“don’t worry, i find you cute too,” you say smiling, looking into her beautiful, jade eyes. ellie laughs awkwardly, inhaling while fixing her posture. she takes a seat opposite of you, “so would you like to go somewhere later, like.. i-i don’t know,” she trails off. “just give me your number and we could talk about it later,” you say while looking at her nervous composure.

“cool,” she looks at you as well, finally relaxing for once. she writes down her number on a napkin that was left on the table and hands it to you. “i’ll see you soon then?” you say, watching her stand from the booth.

“definitely,” flashing you a smirk as she jogs back over to the register.

reclinepilled

please do not plagiarize any of my works or post them on other websites without given permission !

#reclinepilled writes <3 #ellie tlou #tlou #ellie x reader #fluff #ellie smut #ellie williams #ellie the last of us #joel miller #tlou fluff #ellie fluff #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fluff

298 notes · View notes

atlantisplus · 7 months

Text

#coffee machine #coffee machine price #coffee machine online #coffee machine India #buy #shop #top quality #top brand #affordable price #hot beverage dispenser #Atlantis Compact Tea Coffee vending machine #Atlantis Classic Tea Coffee vending machine #Atlantis Neo Tea Coffee vending machine #Atlantis Select Tea Coffee vending machine #Atlantis Coin Tea Coffee Vending machine #popular coffee machines #office coffee solutions

0 notes

kkimura · 4 months

Text

今日気になってたカフェに行ってみましたー！☕️🥐

ニューヨークのSOHOってエリアにあって、コーヒー通っぽい人達がカウンターに座ってたり、観光客だったり、地元ニューヨーカー達で、めっちゃ人多かった。さすが人気店。😦

てか、見てこのエスプレッソマシーン！めちゃくちゃオシャレなんですけど。。。

ペストリーも激ウマらしい。次回は試してみよっと。

I went to a super cute coffee shop in SoHo called La Cabra today for the first time!

The place was packed by locals, coffee snobs and tourists… 🤣 I can see why it’s so popular tho…

Look at this super modern looking espresso machine!! I could spend hours just to stare at it.

Their coffee was very good with perfectly textured steamed milk. I didn’t try their beautiful looking pastries but maybe next time!!

#coffee shop #soho #nyc #travel #cafe #pastries #new york #ニューヨーク #カフェ #コーヒー #パン屋 #美味しい

177 notes · View notes

fandomnerd9602 · 10 months

Text

Jealous Student

Wanda Maximoff x Nerd!Reader (High School AU)

You’ve been dating popular girl and magic user Wanda Maximoff for close to a few months at this point.

Honestly you’ve been on cloud nine. You and Wanda knew everything about one another already thanks to your strong friendship. Everyone in Wanda’s friend circle approved of you.

It didn’t matter to Wanda that you were a nerd, you were her nerd.

Everything was going well or so you thought. It was around this time that a foreign exchange student came in. His name was Vision Jarvis, a proper British chap.

It didn’t take long, literally five minutes of walking on to campus to make a beeline for your girlfriend.

“Excuse me, miss?” The proper British accent showing, “can you tell me where I can locate Mr Fury’s class?”

“Yes that’s Y/N and mine’s class” she explains, gesturing to you.

“Perfect. I’m Vision.” He shakes her hand and kisses her knuckles.

“Wanda” she gives a smile.

“And I’m Y/N” you give him a handshake, trying not to show the jealousy brewing in your very soul.

Wanda gives your hand a gentle squeeze as the two of you guide Vision to your class.

Vision quickly starting hanging out with you and Wanda. He quickly gained the affection of all your friends.

“Watch out, Hufflepuff” Tony Stark warns you within the week.

“What?”

“Proper British dude? The accent?” He explains, “no girl can resist any accent.”

“I take it you used an accent when you asked out Pepper?”

“Didn’t fool her at all but I did make her laugh” he smirks.

Vision was seeming awful chummy with Wanda. He was a fan of Dick Van Dyke and Florence and the Machine.

Somehow you felt that you were starting to become the third wheel.

You approach Wanda during lunch, handmade lunches in tow. “Hey Wanda, I was wondering if you wanted to continue our Harry Potter marathon tonight”

“Harry Potter?” Vision chimes, “i love the Wizarding World!”

“Uhh…Vision was wondering if he could tag along.” Wanda looks at you uneasy.

“Oh” you find your voice brimming with sadness, “well…uhh…”

Vision interrupts, “Wanda I was inquiring if you and Y/N would like to join me for tea later”

“Well Vis the thing is-“ Wanda tries to say. But it was too late you walked away, a few tears making their way down your cheek.

“Detka?!” Wanda calls out to you before chasing after you.

“You seem awful chummy with him” you state, trying to keep from being heard by anyone else but her.

“Vis? Well he’s new.” Wanda tries to explain.

“It’s the accent right?”

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“You like him. You like Vision more than me” you finally blurt out.

“No I don’t.” Wanda looks at you so confused.

“Does he even know we’re dating? No one is ever that chummy with someone unless they’re into you”

“Y/N will you just listen?” Wanda takes your face in her hands, “Detka you’re the one I love.”

Vision walks up to you and Wanda, “I apologize for interrupting, but Vivian invited me out for coffee.”

“Vivian?” You ask.

“Yes. She is quite lovely. Thank you both so much for being my friends recently.” Vision finishes, “I hope I haven’t caused any strife. By the way you make such a lovely couple”

“T-thank you” you shake his hand as he walks over to a young girl.

Wanda looks to you, a little cocked eyebrow, “was my detka jealous?”

“Maybe.” You whisper. “It’s just that you’re so amazing and I’m so…bland”

“No you’re not.” Wanda giggles pulling you into a hug. “You are just right…for me.”

“So do you wanna have a Harry Potter marathon, my Slytherin?”

“With only you, my Hufflepuff” Wanda gives you a kiss on the nose.

You turn to go to class but Wanda stops you. She pulls you close and whispers in your ear, “I think we can afford to play hooky at least once in our lives.”

The two of you quickly run out of Avengers High. Tony simply smirks, being the only person to see the two of you leaving.

One day out on the town won’t kill your grades. But one life without Wanda would be unbearable.

Tags @natashaswife4125 @jacelion @lifespectator @aloneodi @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @iamnicodemus @russianredassassin @kathleenmikaelson @kingofthelizardpeople @supercorpdanbeau @scarletwitch-n7 @family-house-of-m

#marvel #marvel imagine #marvel fluff #mcu #mcu imagine #mcu fandom #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda my beloved #wanda maximoff fluff #scarlet witch x reader #scarlet witch #scarlet witch imagine #avengers high #avengers #high school #high school au #vision

432 notes · View notes

ghostlykeyes · 3 months

Note

how abt how yone kisses o(∩_∩)o

sorry if getting these repetitive asks r annoying or uninspiring— take your time and have fun

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

HEARTSTEEL YONE: KISSES ♡ Gender Neutral ♡ SFW, NSFW separated under bold header ♡ DW anon, I'm OBSESSED with kiss HC's. I will NEVER complain if I get to Think About Kissing The Boys. Hope you enjoy (´｡• ᵕ •｡`) ♡

YONE

Yone's kisses are unique—they can't quite be described in the normal terms you might use, like 'passionate' or 'intense'. His deep kisses feel like poetry, almost abstract: like a pine forest under a shawl of fog. The steady roll of dark storm clouds, not quite raining over you yet, but whispering with a looming promise of thunder. Leather gloves. A whiff of cedar—mountaintops at dawn—the ripples on carved marble. Even though he's busy, he truly makes time when he's kissing you. As his tongue takes command of your mouth, you really feel him. Strong. Steady. He makes you feel important, secure. A good word, if you have to boil it all down? Sensual, but not overdramatic. It often leaves goosebumps popping up along your arms, and whenever he pulls away there's a momentary look of peace and dreaminess on his face. (It's quickly extinguished whenever the rest of Heartsteel engages in their perpetual bullshit, but oh well, what can you do. There will be more time to kiss when Sett's not whipping Earnest's toys at the windows as fast and hard as possible.)

Not big on PDA, Yone will keep your kisses quite chaste and gentlemanly in front of other people. The classic knuckle kiss is a favorite of his. He'll often gently bring your hand to his pillow-soft lips if feeling affectionate while in meetings with band managers or discussing business with venues.

That being said, Yone loves to stand behind you and rest his chin on the top of your head whenever you're waiting in line somewhere. If you protest with an 'ow' when his bony chin boinks your skull he'll murmur a "sorry" and press a light kiss your head. Then he puts his chin back, albeit more gently this time.

Yone always tastes great (a very subtle, clean wintergreen flavor) , even though you never see him popping mints or chewing gum. How does he do it...? You ask him how he avoids chronic coffee-breath but he just shrugs. "I don't do anything special," he claims. You're sure he's got some super-secret stash of high-powered mouthwash hidden on his person at all times but, as of yet, its existence is sadly unconfirmed. (Not to say he won't let you feel him up with the excuse of looking for it.)

Often, Yone's mouth is freezer-cold from his iced coffee. His chilly tongue never fails to send a shiver down your spine.

Speaking of his tongue—boy, does Yone ever know how to use his. He likes to lick long the ridges on the top of your mouth, the back of your teeth, and along the length of your tongue. Never fear because he's appalled at the mere thought of the washing machine maneuver. Even if you're in a sloppy make-out sesh he keeps it classy.

Yone's got some minimal pull with the more popular gossip mags, and he uses it to make sure pictures of you kissing stay out of the tabloids. He absolutely hates the idea that your relationship could be subject to public scrutiny. If someone manages to get a picture of you two in an intimate moment, he's not above using his influence and/or money to make sure it's not released.

Kissing Yone with his hair down is a recipe for disaster. There's just so much of it and it gets everywhere—before you know it he's wincing as your fingernails accidentally tug his hair and you're pulling red out of your mouth. If there's a hair tie on your wrist, Yone snags it. When you open your mouth to protest the theft he shuts you up with his mouth on yours.

Sometimes the rest of the guys are dorks and act absolutely disgusted if they catch you kissing Yone. "Ewwwwww," they laugh, prompting Yone to roll his eyes, annoyed. "I hate seeing Mom and Dad kiss." (Gender matters little in this teasing scenario. Yone is 'Mom' either way.)

Yone's a workaholic, so of course he gets a bit delirious and silly from lack of sleep sometimes. If he's giggling and rapid-fire pressing kisses on all your birthmarks, it's probably time to make that man go to bed. Nothing says you can't enjoy the extra affection before he passes out, though.

Though he gets in the zone and may not give you a deep, sensual kiss while he's working, Yone always returns a kiss when you give him one. Giving him a quick peck while he's scrunched over his work computer is a surefire way to steal a little loving while he's otherwise occupied.

NSFW

Yone's the king of body worship. When he knows he's been neglecting you for work, he makes a show of getting to his knees and running his hands feather-light up and down the outside of your thighs. "My darling," he lifts your foot towards him and his warm breath fans along your ankle. "Won't you please let me earn your forgiveness?" Taking his time, he caresses sweet, nerve-tingling kisses up the length of your legs. When he reaches the apex of your thighs, Yone meets your eyes, gaze smoldering, before taking you into his mouth. Let's just say he doesn't rush, and you more than forgive him by the time he's done with you.

Yone adores kisses in missionary. It's as if his mouth is soldered to yours, swallowing up your moans like he's a man starved. Whenever you break away to gasp and pant his name he presses his forehead to yours, basking in the closeness and warmth of your bodies.

One of Yone's turn-ons is when you trail kisses down the back of his neck and over the column of his spine, so light he can barely feel them at all. Your warm breath and your lips whispering across his back have him tense and shivering in the best way possible. You're only halfway down his spine before he starts muffling moans into the palm of his hand. He gets so fucking hard it almost hurts when you finally reach around to touch his cock.

#heartsteel #heartsteel headcanons #heartsteel x reader #heartsteel yone #yone x reader #yone/reader #yone league of legends #yone lol #yone heartsteel #apologies for the SoFuckingLong seasonal depression is strong but my lust is stronger

151 notes · View notes

monvante · 3 months

Text

persona non grata ╱ myg, 𝟏.

per·so·na non gra·ta: unwelcome or unwanted. not popular or accepted by others.

pairing: myg x f!reader

genre: suspense / noir / detective au

rating: mature | 18+

chapter word count: 3,067

content warings: crime, blackmail, missing person investigation, themes of violence and murder, 90's cult references, corrupt cops, mentions of physical fighting, cockroaches, depictions of dementia, substance abuse & addiction, reader is grieving a breakup;

next chapter | series navigation | masterlist

chapter i. goodbye, kanan.

Tuesday night, March 18th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Your hands don’t feel clean. They just never do.

“It’s that same nightmare,” you rub them together, finding comfort in the heat.

Yoongi looks at you. He says nothing, because of course he doesn't. He already noticed the dark circles under your eyes this morning, how you looked at your cup of coffee with a bit more disgust than usual.

He admired your hatred, your devotion to your spiteful heart.

“Cockroaches.” Your sad chuckle is but self-mockery. Your gaze is crestfallen.

He’s left to calculate within the machinations of his mind whatever meaning there is in your nightmare.

Yet, Yoongi finds none whatsoever.

“Have you eaten?”

“Why?”

“Just asking,” he shrugs. “Take tomorrow off,” Yoongi hides his hands inside the pockets of his trench coat. His concern is disguised in his eyes, looking out the foggy windows of the department office. “You need it.”

“I can’t stop thinking about him.”

“Let it go.”

“He was eight years old! He was a child!”

The air tightens in your lungs and your throat thickens with silence. You didn’t mean to sound so exasperated, you didn’t mean to sound like anything, but you’ll have to be the first to face your emotional ties to the cold case of a young boy whose face is ingrained in the back of your mind.

Yoongi gulps ⎯ it’s the first thing he does when the truth’s engulfed in his stomach. You glare at him, but he doesn’t budge. Not for a few seconds at least, taking a few steps back as he still refuses to look you in the eye. All cops are cowards.

“You wanna know why we got this case?”

Your brows perk.

“It’s not because we’re good,” he scoffs. “Last year... I confronted McKinnon about the money. He called me a snitch… I didn’t- I didn’t tell him you were in on it, but I figured he knew. That bastard just.. kept looking at me with those filthy eyes and I- I hit him, okay? I got him good. He deserved it.”

“Is that why you kept avoiding me all those months?”

“Kind of. He said we wouldn’t come out of it alive if the ACU so much as dreamt of it… So I kept quiet. He gave us a case full of dead ends and shit evidence to keep us busy… Said we deserved it.”

The Anti Corruption Unit had been onto the agents’ tail that month. Not that it matters. Nothing was found.

“Why– why didn’t you tell me?”

He runs a hand through his hair, slowing down his breath. In the same second, he fails himself and his fury comes out in full force.

“Fuck’s sake! And risk you being dead? Or worse?!”

There are drops of sweat down his temple. You can see them because the yellow street lights glisten against his skin and you figure he’s telling you the truth. Even if he wasn’t, you’d be inclined to believe him.

No one else in this godforsaken unit has a commitment to the truth like Yoongi.

Thursday morning, March 20th @ ViCAP Unit, Missing Persons Dept.

Agent Gerwig gives you a warm, tight-lipped smile when you pass her down the hallways. You hurry past the agents down the coffee machine, avoiding small talk and nearly tripping down the stairs on your way to Yoongi’s desk.

The insides of your stomach are twisting and turning as you rush inside, uninvited and breathless, waiting for him to acknowledge you behind his incessant typing and the meaningless emails he reads everyday.

Yoongi seems as still and lifeless as ever, which somehow comes as a comfort to you.

“Days off are supposed to make you look better, not worse. You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” He types as fast as he comes up with witty remarks.

“That’s because I have!” You spit back, fists closed tightly around the newspaper in your hands.

He quirks up one brow, enough for you to know you’ve got his attention.

“Here,” you toss it onto his desk. “Read it.”

November 27th, 1991. Solved case: Thanksgiving kidnappings linked to man apprehended by police.

“That’s Adam Bowen. He got arrested a night after Kanan went missing,” you huff, catching your breath. “They never considered him a suspect because… the timelines didn’t add up, apparently.”

Yoongi looks up at you from the large frame of his glasses.

“And?”

“Police always suspected he worked with his brother… but they never found enough evidence to prove it. They never even found said brother, the guy disappeared out of thin air and Bowen never told them anything. Not a word.”

He leans back, stretching his arms. His gaze diverts away from you or the paper altogether and he’s staring into space, seemingly at a loss for words.

“They got one brother, huh? Looks like it was enough for them to settle it,” Yoongi clicks his tongue. “Sloppy as all hell.”

In your heart, there’s some feeble hope, but most of it has been filled with despair and a fierce jealousy towards anyone who still maintained a sense of normalcy. Your last seven years have been haunted by nightmares, tainted by the faces of all the missing person reports hanging on your walls.

“We got a second half of the story to figure out.”

Yoongi nods. He closes off his laptop and puts his hands around his gun belt.

Friday night, March 21th @ Agent ___’s home.

Circe’s orange tail swirls around your leg before she’s meowing next to her empty bowl, with cute and threatening eyes glaring into your soul. You can barely catch your breath on the couch ⎯ you got shit to do.

Her paws trail happily after you once you’re pouring the pack of Whiskas onto her tiny plate, making a mental note to throw nearly all the home decor away before Easter comes. The apartment is filled with portraits, vases and candles Yuri generously left you with.

Such courtesy of your ex-fiancée to have abandoned all your memories and stories behind.

You’re running out of coffee, hope and sugar.

Yuri was not a bad man. It’s what you told yourself, once. He wanted the kids and the white picket fence life, away from violent gangs and city lights, where he’d craft the perfect nuclear family, worthy of homemade apple pies and Sunday barbecues.

But you liked the urban loneliness, your shoebox apartment and the green subway lights on your way back home. You liked the comfort of knowing every neighborhood like the palm of your hand, the ins and outs of every highway and the thought of heartless strangers passing you by, not caring for your name.

You missed him. His warm body pressed against yours and his golden, brown skin; you missed him selfishly ⎯ your comfort zone walked away and resentment grew alongside the fondness.

You hoped he was happy without you, but not too much.

When your co-workers asked you about him, a few days after he packed his bags, all you gave them was a shrug and a poor explanation, the kind that everyone does: we were incompatible, it wasn’t meant to be, I wasn’t ready. The list went on and on.

The only one to not probe was good old loyal Yoongi. He was indifferent enough to other people’s personal lives not to ask. When you told him, he patted you on the shoulder awkwardly and placed your coffee by your desk with extra whipped cream.

Saturday afternoon, March 22nd @ Rosefell Nursing Home.

Violet Bowen was not, by any means, what you’d call a reliable witness. She seemed pale beyond human comprehension and her words mostly consisted of hummings or muttering. The moment you saw her, you felt a sting of empathy too strong to ask her of her missing, possibly outlaw brother.

She had no other relatives nor close visitors, except for a caring ex-neighbor who’d bring her flowers every Friday. With nails painted a deep shade of red, she looked to be around eighty, but you couldn’t quite tell. Violet was in poor condition, plagued by dementia and the loneliness of lost loved ones.

Her caretaker is a vibrant, blonde nurse. A blonde Southern belle whose name tag read in big, uppercase letters.

CAROLYN R. NURSING ASSISTANT

It’s Yoongi who interrogates Violet, remaining unaffected by her lost gaze and brown eyes. He flashes her a picture of her brothers back in the 80’s, sporting what looks to be fluffy mullets.

She smiles then and her shaky hands point at Adam, but nothing else comes out of her aside from a gleam of life in her eyes. Even if she knew where they were, she wouldn’t tell them a word.

Carolyn’s smile grows disconcerted. Her hands lay on Violet’s forearm as she pulls a thick chunk of her blonde hair out of her face in typical Southern charm.

“I think my girl’s had enough here, yes?” She forces a grin, glancing over at Violet. “If you’ll excuse us, it’s tea time.”

Carolyn helps Violet out of her seat and into the cafeteria. You’re not sure if it’s bad timing or a deliberate attempt from the nursing assistant to end this conversation, but you’re leaning on the latter. Off they go, taking slow, mindful steps away from both of you.

You refuse to look at Violet’s way. Something about her made you want to cry your heart out; the thought of loneliness being an imminent threat to you, too.

“It’s pointless, Yoongi,” you mutter in your seat, slouching your shoulders. “She’s not going to remember anything.”

He hates to agree. Yoongi tsks, fiddling with his watch.

“Did you check her records at the reception?” He glances over at you, mind brimming with some sort of nefarious idea.

“Yeah,” you nod. “I mean- I didn’t check if she had any funds… It looks like all her properties and money were confiscated by the government, but I should run a background check on her bank accounts, to be sure.”

Monday afternoon, March 24th @ Tech Unit, Information Management Division.

Jenny’s doodles lie by her desk, making the room feel like a high school classroom. You haven’t spoken to her since December; what was once a blossoming friendship wilted away thanks to your cowardice and the desire to protect her from Deputy McKinnon’s claws. If Jenny found out, she’d jump the gun.

And she didn’t have the best aim.

Her Naruto sketches have improved greatly since you last saw them, a massive improvement for just a couple months. Both of you used to laugh at her poorly drawn stick figures, now it looks like she’s ready to take her comics career seriously. You’re happy for her ⎯ she’ll find a way out of this hellhole.

The air is thick and humid in the early Spring, but filled with an extra layer of awkwardness when she sees you from across the room. Jenny’s strides towards her desk are heavy with grief and resentment, but she holds her gaze your way.

“Have you had enough space from me after not picking up my calls?” She slides onto her chair, scribbling a few notes onto her monthly planner. “Long time no see, idiot.”

You don’t have much to say for yourself, even when your chest pangs with her affectionate, yet sarcastic use of the word idiot.

“A lot happened, is all,” you gesture sheepishly, hands reaching for the insides of your pockets.

“I can imagine.”

“I’m sorry, Jenny… I didn’t mean to-”

She looks up at you, eyes drenched with irony and something.. something which you can’t name. If it’s hatred or love, you can’t tell.

“Wat’cha want?”

You swallow dry and uneasy, unfolding the paper on your hand with Violet Bowen’s name and address. It’s crumpled and a little thorn ⎯ you were ready to throw it away seconds before coming into the Tech Unit.

“I- I need a background check on someone,” you mutter, lowly. “Bank account activity… Credit cards… Anything you can find from the last… thirty years, maybe?”

Your attempt at a chuckle fails, denouncing your regret. Jenny notices the furrow of your brows and how concerned you seem, ripping the paper away from your hands.

“Sure.”

The seconds fill with silence. You stand by her desk, waiting for a snide comment, a spiteful joke, anything. She looks at you like she knows you want to apologize again.

“Nice sketches!” You smile as a desperate invitation to make friendly conversation.

Jenny doesn’t cave in.

“You’re dismissed,” she nods at the doorway and hops onto her laptop. “I’ll text you when I’m done.”

Monday night, March 24th @ Agent ____’s home.

“Hey,” you mutter over the phone. “Just checking up on you and mom.”

“Finally!” Albeit sarcastic, your younger sister’s voice is nothing but chirpy, as it has always been. “We miss you, you idiot. You know that, right?”

Over the phone, you can hear your mom’s laugh and a few unintelligible words. It seems she’s adjusting to your dad’s absence. Somehow, you had stopped calling after the funeral. It’s not that you didn’t miss them back ⎯ you were sick of being flooded with memories every time you’d hear her voice. Like your dad was still there too, right beside her.

“Sorry, sweetcheeks. I’ve just been busy.” The explanations and apologies roll off your tongue.

“You know you can’t avoid us forever, right?” Her voice is so sober, it’s as if she’s older than you by a million years.

When you gaze out the window, loneliness overcomes you. The years spent playing hide and seek in your childhood home are long gone, replaced by miles of distance between you and your family ⎯ how you became so caring and so bad at expressing it like your father. You hate how much of you is made of all the people you love. And miss.

“You there?”

“Y-yeah, yeah I’m sorry.”

“I swear to God, you gotta stop doing this.”

“Doing what?”

“This.” She pauses. “Acting like we don’t exist. Seriously. We miss you.”

A pang of guilt flashes through your chest.

“I know.” Your voice is small through the phone again. In between the anxiety and the seconds, you fiddle with your bracelet. “I’m sorry.. It’s been hell.”

“I promised you I wouldn’t tell mom about your breakup, but she keeps asking me. It wouldn’t hurt if you opened up for once.” She sounds more hurt than angry, vindicating your mother after all the months you spent avoiding calls and texts under the pretense of your busy adult job.

Even in the softness of her voice, her words feel harsh. You gulp down a threatening tear, staying silent on the phone. She was still right, though.

“Listen, we love you, okay? I don’t know what kind of shit you’re going through because you won’t tell me everything.. but dude, please, seriously just come visit us sometime. I know you’ve got your job and all, but act human for once. Please?”

“Okay, okay. I’ll try. I promise.”

“Good. I gotta go now. Mom wants to go grocery shopping for some french-whatever-pie and I promised her I’d help. Give Circe my love!”

You chuckle, sadly.

“Yeah… Yeah, it’s okay. I’ll see you guys soon.”

When the call ends, silence deepens. It’s your own doing, you know, but that doesn’t make it any less suffocating. Even when you crave solitude, you’re just plagued by loneliness.

Wednesday morning, March 26th @ Java café.

Today, Yoongi thinks you look a little better. And by better, it means rested. Of course, your gaze is still very much zombie-like, with glimpses of terror in your eyes when you look away.

But in this line of work, it ain’t all rainbows and sunshine.

It’s never rainbows and sunshine, he realizes.

“So,” you sigh.

“So.” Yoongi punctuates, giving you room to breathe.

Your eyes are distant, watching children play in the puddles from last night’s rainstorm. The weather has been cruel to this city, punishing sinners and saints alike with a dreadful fog in the mornings and plenty of humidity to drive your hair follicles to the brink of insanity.

“Bowen’s alive, Yoongi. There’s a big chance he just… got away with it.”

Your words aren’t met with so much enthusiasm. You suppose it’s the skepticism in this field ⎯ even the good news don’t feel like good news. Before his questioning and theorizing begins, Yoongi brings up a valid concern.

“Why didn’t his brother spill his whereabouts, though? It’s not like Adam had any reasons to protect his brother any longer.”

“Unless he did.” You counter-argue.

“Why, though? It doesn’t make sense. In ninety percent of the cases, you know what happens. So-called partners in crime turn against each other. It’s good ol’ politics.” Yoongi leans back in his chair, nodding at the waitress for more coffee.

“Maybe he had something to lose,” you purse your lips. The biting of your inner cheeks is such an instinctive habit of yours that it barely stings until you realize how much tension you’re holding in. “Or someone, you know?”

“Several someones.” Yoongi blinks. “Do you remember the Mormon Heritage cult?” His eyes narrow as he scrapes the top of his head.

Your back and forth is interrupted by the local waitress pouring hot black coffee onto Yoongi’s cup. He seems like he’s on a roll today ⎯ it’s his third cup. That you know of.

“Uhhh, kind of. They were a thing in the nineties, weren’t they?”

“Yeah.. well… the Satanic panic might’ve contributed to that,” Yoongi nods, slipping his mobile out of his pocket. His fingers are hasty, typing up a Google search so he can word vomit every single fact possible. “But we know that the Jesus believers can somehow always be worse.”

He sounds so snarky, it earns a laugh out of you.

“The Bowens were around that time,” he says. “I mean ⎯ the connection seems unlikely, but with these people, you never know.”

You sigh.

“McKinnon didn’t give us this case for nothing, huh?” Even with half a smile on your face, you can’t help but feel defeated.

“Cheer up, buttercup. I think we got a lead.” He smiles with his teeth for once in a lifetime, raising his eyes from his phone to meet yours. You know he is up to no good ⎯ and that can only be a good thing.

“Buttercup?”

#yoongi fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts scenarios #bts imagine #bts imagines #yoongi x reader #yoongi smut #yoongi fanfic #yoongi x yn #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #bts smut #bts x yn #png: c001

149 notes · View notes

miguelhugger2099 · 4 months

Text

Dr. Miguel O'Hara Everyone knows about the pretty boy at the lab, Miguel O'Hara. He's confident, intelligent and maybe not the friendliest. Also might be the loneliest. So, you decide to shoot your shot on a whim. No Warnings. First post, kinda nervous. Not proofread at all. Just something to get out my system. Word Count: 1,805

Breathe in and breathe out.

That’s what you told yourself as you clutched a stack of papers to your chest. You squeezed your way through a pack of people in the hallway, murmuring your excuses as your mind was somewhere else. While bumping into your boss, he requested your help on sending out documents as he was busy with other pressing matters. To keep your job, you smiled and accepted it with outstretched hands. The stack was heavy enough to make you huff and lug it against you for a more comfortable position.

The slight burn in your arms made you switch between the two sides of yourself and you became nosy to peep through the names on the documents. You noted that the papers came stapled together in packets along with names at the top left corner. Some names were recognizable and some were not.

Dr. Octavius

Dr. Connors

Dr. O’ Hara–

O’Hara.

Ah.

You stopped in your tracks as you stared at the name. O’Hara was no stranger by any means. Women and men alike would either fawn or scowl at the mere mention of his name. It was weird how popularity and gossip thrived even in the workforce but you quickly shrugged it off eventually. You'd' only been working at Alchemax for a few months now after moving to Nueva York from your hometown. Despite all that, you’ve gained the pleasure of eavesdropping on your female co-workers shamelessly talking hot gossip between themselves during lab hours about Dr. O’Hara. He was incredibly handsome, no doubt– you’ve seen him yourself. You two have passed by each other since your lunch breaks were fairly close to one another.

It was an uncommon hour, done at an earlier time than most so usually you’d be the only one in the breakroom to collect your lunch. He’d pop in the breakroom with a deep frown on his face, and his glasses sliding down to the tip of his nose. His large frame would swiftly move to the coffee machine and his broad shoulders would essentially cover the entire counter while the buzz of the brewing began. He seemed to be in his own world, staring intently as the brew dripped into his mug. When the machine notified him it had finished, he’d sniff his nose and push his glasses back up on his nose bridge before coughing slightly, taking his mug and exiting the room without another word. He was rarely ever around people and rarely ever smiling– always focused on his job.

His attractiveness was undeniable but he wasn’t much of a talker. You didn’t mind though. You weren’t much one either. So, even though there was a leap in your chest whenever your eyes landed on him, you never really did much outside of it. You’ve thought to yourself many times to maybe strike up a “hello” but even that felt too much. But today, in this moment, with his name plastered on the documents in your hand, you gained an impulsive urge to maybe, possibly talk to him.

There was a huge chance he’d reject you but the adrenaline of the idea was already seeping through your veins and nothing could stop you in this moment. So, you made your way doing your job to deliver these papers as you had a vague idea of where these scientists offices were with the help of a few people you asked along the way. The stack eventually became much lighter as you went through them and soon enough you got to O’Hara’s office.

You faced the door with his name engraved at the top. It was shut closed and you could vaguely hear the click-clacking of the keyboard. With a deep breath and a small pep talk to yourself, you gently knocked on the door with your knuckles. You heard a pause on the other end before the typing continued.

“Come in.” A gruff voice was muffled. You took that as your sign to enter inside, opening the door with a careful squeak on the hinges. Inside was a fairly large room, occupied with various beakers, labels and notes stuck on pin boards around the walls. It was best described as an organized mess evident when he stood up and plucked a clipboard from his other desk under the rubble of scientific clutter before sitting back down at his computer desk. If you hadn’t literally just heard him give access to enter the room, you would’ve thought you trespassed with the way he barely acknowledged your existence.

You craned your neck around to take in his space and ultimately settled your eyes on him. He glanced at both his clipboard and computer screen, probably typing up one of his written reports. You walked over to his side and neither of you spoke. In your mind, a part of you was wondering if this was a good idea and the other part of you realized that he is much much more handsome than the rumors let on. Sure, you’ve seen him but only at a glance. Up close, you noticed he had small wrinkles above his forehead that became prominent when he raised his eyebrows to fix the glasses sliding down his nose. His plump lips pursed slightly when he made a mistake on his computer, furiously pressing backspace. His hair was brown with a tinge of a red hue in them and a bit of stress gray strands of hair. Accompanying it was a small face with a sharp jawline and equally strong cheekbones. It was clear he took care of himself. He really was pretty.

He obviously felt you staring. The silence became unbearable when it was awkward so he coughed that sounded like a grunt. “Did you…need something?” He asked, glancing at you from the corner of his eye. His voice had a soft rumble to it, you noted.

You flinched softly, blinking as he popped you out of your thinking. You fumbled with the papers in your hands, quickly flipping through the files to hand him the one with his name on it. “Dr. Stone informed me to give you these copies of the recent results from the data collected earlier this week,” You offered it to him with one hand while your other hand held the rest of the stack against your hip.

He accepted the papers with a hesitant small nod, taking them carefully and placing it beside him by moving a few knick knacks away. He pushed his glasses back up with his index finger and gave you another neutral look. “Now if there isn’t anything else…” His eyes darted towards the door and back at you, his body prepared to turn back to his work.

“Well, there is this one thing…” You fiddled with the other papers in your hand nervously. “I was thinking maybe, if you'd like to have lunch with me one of these days.” You didn’t look at him, opting out for the colorful sticky notes stuck to the side of his monitor. You wondered what ‘call him’ was about.

He raised an eyebrow at you, his brown eyes studying your face carefully before speaking again. “Lunch?” He repeated, his tone was still on guard. “I don’t remember wanting to have lunch with anyone.”

You knew he was blunt so you didn’t take it too personally, but couldn’t he have been a little nicer? The confidence you had built up was slowly falling apart by the second. You stammered over yourself as you tried to explain with a crack in your self-esteem. “I didn’t mean to assume that you wanted to, just that maybe you’d like to. Although, I guess it would be presumptuous of me to think you’d agree to have lunch with someone you’ve never met before. But I thought it’d be a nice change of pace because I don’t have anyone to have lunch with either,” You realized how that came out and began panicking to explain your explanation. “Not to say you’re like me or anything! You probably have friends. Not probably, you do!” You rambled on and on, tripping over words and realizing that you should’ve never let that random impulse drive your decision making.

O’Hara stared at you for longer than necessary, his eyes looking at your face with a plain look but he was considering your offer. He turned back to face his monitor in his swivel chair, beginning to type again. Without looking at you, he spoke, “Alright. I’ll humor you,” He said. “We can go out for lunch tomorrow. For some fresh air and whatnot.”

A spark of hope bloomed in your chest. Despite the caution in his voice, a smile grew on your face. “Tomorrow? Yeha, great! I-I know this place–a cafe spot. You like coffee, right? They also have tea. They have loads of stuff–I can show you the menu!” Your voice got a bit loud from excitement.

He raised an eyebrow again, trying to hide his annoyance at your enthusiasm. “Coffee’s fine,” He said reluctantly, “but just that. I don’t waste too much time on lunch anyway.”

His annoyance went over your head and you mistook it for acceptance. “Sure! I promise it’ll be good,” You smiled at him. Looking down at the papers, you remembered the reason you were originally here for. “Well, I have to send out the rest of the papers, but I’ll be back tomorrow for lunch.” You let out a small sigh of relief and head to the door, waving excitedly. “Bye!” Giving him another warm smile before exiting the room.

O’Hara shook his head softly and continued working like nothing out of the ordinary happened. However, inside, he was battling with conflicting emotions. Part of him wanted to reject you completely, shutting you and anyone else from pushing his boundaries. This was work after all, but another part of him was curious. He’d seen you before but his brain just blurred your face out with the rest of his co-workers. He sighs and leans back in his chair with his eyes focused on the screen but not reading anything in particular. Taking off his glasses, he tosses them to the keyboard and rubs his face. The unease in his chest wouldn’t go away. It was uncomfortable and he hated it. But he already agreed to it so he had to suck it up. He groaned and picked up his glasses again, placing it on his nose and took a look at the packet of documents you handed him earlier.

Meanwhile, you had a pep in your step since you left O’Haras office. This was progress, you told yourself. For yourself and Dr. O’Hara. You hummed happily while delivering the rest of the papers, buzzing with excitement that maybe, just maybe, something good will come out of this.

#miguel x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel x you #miguel x y/n #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderman #miguel spiderverse #atsv miguel #miguel ohara

293 notes · View notes

jpitha · 1 year

Text

Computing Power

This is a rewrite of one of my very first popular sci-fi things here. I decided to flesh it out just a little bit and make it more of a short rather than just a script of two people talking.

Humans tolerate a much greater amount of… ambiguity in their technology than the other sapients. Take their computers, for example. They are a class above. They're smaller, faster, less expensive and can do more.

But, they crash.

A lot.

Leave it to the Humans to just accept a machine that will stop working "every once in a while."

Gwen is walking around the promenade on the Revelation, a starbase on the border between the Gren and the Humans. It was set up after the armistice as a kind of meeting point for the sapients of the galaxy to live, work and play together to try and build understanding, and prevent another devastating war from occurring. She's walking with her new friend, the Gren Mal'imar. They're an interesting looking team as they walk. She's about three quarters his height and has that stout thick build that high gravity beings all wind up with. Mal comes from a world that's a good deal lighter so he's taller, more spindly with reverse articulated legs and carciform features. As they're walking and chatting she stops, reaches into her pocket and picks up her phone. Looking down at it, she frowns. "Oh shoot."

Mal'imar noticing her friend stopped, turns and looks at her. "What?"

Gwen shrugs and shows Mal'imar the phone. The screen is blank and white. "My phone crashed. Gotta reboot it, one sec."

Mal's antennae flutter, indicating confusion "Your phone...crashed?"

"Yeah, the computer inside it stopped working. Something went wrong and it just doesn't work." Gwen shrugs. "Once I turn it off and turn it back on it'll be fine"

Mal'imar shuffles from one reverse articulated leg to the other. "But, the computers in your other things are more robust right? They don't...do that?"

Gwen looks up at Mal. "You're serious?" She laughs heartily. "Hell yes they do. Let me tell you about the time I had to reboot my coffee maker so it would work again!"

Mal turns his head slightly and clacks his mouthparts. He's worried.

Gwen isn't that familiar with Gren body language and doesn't notice the gesture. "Oh yeah, one time the computer in my car crashed. Wouldn't display anything at all. That was a hairy ride!"

Mal'imar unconsciously takes a step back and looks around. Maybe this human is having some kind of... episode? The things they're saying sure don't sound right.

Her phone successfully rebooted, Gwen continues walking and talking. Mal decides to see where this is going and stays with her. "Also! So when the first humans went to our moon, the onboard computer kept crashing. They had to land manually because the computer - when it worked - was trying to land them on jagged rocks! They all nearly died!"

This time Mal'imar stopped walking. He looks her in her eyes and clacks his mouthparts again. "You do realize the other races' computers don't do that, right?"

Gwen meets his gaze. "But ours are faster."

#humans are deathworlders #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #humans are space capybaras #humans are space australians #humans and aliens #writing #sci fi writing #scifi writing

939 notes · View notes

accio-victuuri · 6 days

Text

time to make lemonades again 🍋🍋

inspired by a previous post i made because something similar happened and here we are. i think that the negative take on these similarities is that the other person/brand is “copying” the other. or one is trying to rub off the popularity of xx. which is a common source of conflict between fans, not just xz’s or wyb’s. and since the topic is trending we have more information of these alleged brand traitors who feed the cpf machine. lol.

this post made by jeanswest with the kadian 10:05 for xz even if their endorser is wyb. tho i went to their weibo and didn’t see this post all when i was trying to confirm. so maybe it was deleted? the next one is hilarious cause they are implying that JW is taking inspiration from xz for their designs like the little prince and tennis. even if the whole line yibo is endorsing have nothing to do with these styles. AHHHH! they are so much better in connecting things that have no relation at all. 😂

and it’s so embarrassing how confident they are that this is copying. xz does not own TLP or the sport of Tennis. no matter how much they associate those things with him. atleast with cpfs, we can give disclaimers but solos being so sure that there is just no other way that an international brand can come up with these designs — other than them wanting to leech from xz is next level unhinged.

but still thanks for the candy i guess?

next up is, p1 a li-ning cap that has 85 on it. but it’s actually a back to the future themed drop. a film that was released in 1985. tho maybe they are angry cause li-ning is a repeat offender. p2 is opening of li-ning’s store and the lottery includes a chance to win a casio watch which wyb was endorsing at the time.

for xz’s zwiling endorsement before, one of the things highlighted by the brand is this machine. idk what. but it said something about brewing coffee at 97 and tea at 85. lol and who are associated with those numbers? wyb!!!! hahahahahahaha!!!!

sometimes i wonder who is the real candy lovin cpf.

moving on….

p1 is by kaixiaozao brand, they posted about a product that has dandan noodles that will make you think of the ancient times. dandan being something that is nicknamed for wyb, and ancient times pertaining to lwj and wyb. p2 is absurd, they are so angry at mengniu cause they replied to a cpf. yes it was xposted on the supertopic, but the account was asking a genuine question of how to purchase. so they answered. as much as so/os want the loyalty of these brands, their main goal is money. they will follow the money. that means more people buying their products. they didn’t choose xx or xxx out of the goodness of their hearts, their teams do research on who to hire and who can bring in more 💰.

another problematic thing done by mengniu before ⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

#strawberrymilkbobocup# I know this question! Strawberry and milk go together. It’s the most amazing combination. Let me tell you secretly, add some oats and the taste will be amazing. Someone: I want a strawberry custard cup, but not strawberry. No custard, just...

bobo cup 👀

and what that someone said. they don’t want the strawberry nor the custard/milk. so what does that leave us? Bobo 🤯🤯🤯

this post by i don’t know who that said for roborock, there are a lot of consumers, both peter pan and passion fruit. no lies tho. we do contribute to their sales. it has been that way for a very long time. all these talk of cpfs only love xx or xxx is brainless so/o agenda. they just don’t understand the fact that we can support both and we’ve been doing so for years now. they cannot comprehend it, so they twist it into a narrative that fits them.

lastly, p1 is by bubly and on the can has 85. p2 is zhenguoli and on the poster, they used lwj’s famous tagline ( i wanna take someone back… yep, the same one he said in ttxs )

i’m even seeing one shared the fact that xz allegedly rented a car that has 805 on the license plate. so he must be promoting cp right? 😂😂😂 idk.. maybe it caught his eye because of his boyfriend and didn’t think people will take photos of his car and license plate to speculate on. and their hateful interpretation of what we would say is CPN:

1. The license plate number chosen when renting a car is Wang Yibo’s birthday “805”

2. The name of the shoes worn has Wang Yibo’s abbreviation “Web” ( this refers to gucci re-web )

3. The photo XZ posted on that day ( when he was in Milan and only took photos of his shoes ) imitated Wang Yibo’s photo from last year’s GQ Gala.

Summary: If there is only a single factor, it can be explained as coincidence together, but so many "coincidences" gathered on the same day, it must be "intentional"! XZ has been using this method for the past 5 years … Hype male-male CP in a “both subtle and obvious” way!

I don’t usually post anti or solo rhetoric here unless it’s amusing and this is an example of that. lol. so they do believe those things are connected? that it’s too much of a coincidence???? it’s just that their conclusion is way off compared to a cpf’s. 🤣🤣🤣

that’s all i have for now. i skipped the others, and surprisingly a good number is how angry they are at li ning’s skateboard series. lol.

-END.

#yizhan #bjyx #there is no science here i’m clowning like i always do #i’m a fake turtle the way i didn’t know much of what is on here 🤣🤣🤣🤣

85 notes · View notes