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lolasimms · 1 year

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a lots gonna change pt.2

Summary: Married life isn’t great, infidelity ensues and things change.

next part

“She's finally asleep" Ellie drops to the bed and pulls you into her. Her cold hands reach inside of your sleep shirt, massaging your breasts. You gasp in surprise at the feeling.

“Your hands are fucking freezing” you laugh as she nuzzles her face into your neck, you can feel the smile on her face growing.

“Mmm I missed this mama” She squeezes them one last time before taking your face in her hands and leaving a kiss on your lips.

“I missed this too, I also have to ask you something" you say, pacing yourself as you were aware that she hated mingling with people even if it was Dina.

"What is it" she asks quickly, her face unreadable, almost guilty looking. This is it she thinks, you had found out she’d been having an affair. She felt her heart was about to leap out of her chest.

"Well, Dina’s invited us both to dinner tomorrow, with Jesse, can you please come?." Her face relaxes and she releases a short breath of relief. Of course she’d fucking come, she thought this conversation would go completely differently.

"Why not?” She smiles at you and you’re slightly taken aback at her willingness, it usually took you hours or days to convince her to go out with you. You couldn’t complain though and decided to text Dina that you’d both be coming over the next day.

"When she's going to sleep, leave the binky on her onesie clip, she does this thing nowadays where she wants to put it in herself" Ellie explains to Joel what her already knows, and you can tell the old man wants to roll his eyes at her authoritativenesses.

"Honey, I've done this before, it's just going to be 3 hours, plus she sleeps over at mine all the time" he, says as he begins shooing the two of you out the door.

"Alright bye old man, bye Lila" Ellie says as she looks down to her daughter who rests in the man’s arms. Lila waves the two of you goodbye and rests her head on Joel’s shoulder.

"Bye baby, I'll be back soon okay?"

"Bye momma"

Dina let’s the both of you into the house and you’re welcomed by the smell of the grill and loud shouting coming from what you assumed was her sons room.

“The place looks clean for once, did you hire a maid of something” Ellie teases, knowing Dina hated cleaning up.

“Oh shut up, I cleaned it myself for your information, now go get the wine glasses and put them on the table” She commands, earning an eye roll from Ellie.

“Fine” Ellie agrees as Dina stares daggers at her, not before flipping her off and then running into the kitchen.

"Hey, you look nice" Dina smiles and pulls you in for a hug, her sweet perfume catching your breath. Before you could pull back she whispers to you. "How did you manage to get her here so easily"

"Thank you, and honestly I don’t even know, she’s been pretty agreeable as of recent" you laugh as she lets go of you.

"Jesse’s just getting the salmon off the grill, he’s trying to copy a recipe of this fancy cookbook, so if it sucks I apologise in advance" you just laugh and the two of you head into the dining area.

"So Y/n, when do you think you'll be going back to work?" Dina asks, before picking up her wine glass and downing a gulp of the red liquid.

"I'm not actually sure, I've been toying with the idea of working from home but I- I don't know" you say.

"Since when?" Ellie asks, her voice sounding more agitated than you'd like it to be.

"Since I like spending time with Lila, she's not that bad of a kid" you try make light of the situation, after all the two of you were in the company of your friends and you didn't want to start an argument in-front of them.

"You said I pressured you into staying home and now you’re deciding that you finally want it?" Ellie’s voice has risen, and you can feel the embarrassment seeping throughout your body.

"Ellie, we're in the company of others, tone it down please" you hiss at her.

"No. Why is it that when I suggested it, it was pressure and now that you want it, it’s just your choice" Dina and Jesse are sat across from the two of you, awkwardly. Trying not to add fuel to the fire. Jesse fidgets with his fork and Dina swishes the wine in her glass, in circles.

"Ellie stop" you whisper shout, as if they aren't across from you two. Ellie gets up and excuses herself, walking out the front door. You remain in your seat and drop your head into your hands. Dina immediately rounds the table to come to your side and Jesse gets up and rubs your shoulder, as he makes his way outside.

"You okay y/n?" She questions as she kneels next to you rubbing circles around your back, trying to soothe you.

"She’s just so complicated, I'm trying everything and we just can't seem to make it work. I didn't want to tell anyone, because I don't want anyone knowing how much of a fuck up I am but, we're in couples therapy"

"There's nothing embarrassing about that y/n , Jesse and I did that too" she confesses. Your ears perk up and you lift your head from your hands.

"Really?"

"Yes, after I had JJ I struggled with horrible postpartum depression, and Jesse felt like it was his fault, and then we started drifting apart, so we saw a counsellor."

"Was it, i don't know... did it help?" You sniffle, while looking up at her expectantly.

"Obviously our relationship will never go back to how it was at the start, we'll never get back the honeymoon period , but we managed to mend the broken bits of our relationship. Trust me y/n wounds mend over time." You smile up at her, sniffling while you wipe away your tears and hug her.

The front door opens, and Ellie and Jesse make their way back into the dining room. Jesse smiles up at you, empathetically and sits down next to Dina, leaving a soft kiss on her cheek.

"Y/n , let's go" Ellie murmurs softly as she stands by the dining rooms arched entryway. You look at Dina and she nods, getting up and walking you to the door.

"Thank you so much D, it was amazing before... you know. But either way, the food was amazing. Jesse I said the dinner was great"

"No problem, and I'll pass your regards to the chef" she smiles and hugs you as you climb into the passenger seat.

"Ready to go?" Ellie asks as she turns to look at you, you mutter a quick yes and she starts the engine of the car. You ignore her for the rest of the car ride, a tactic you know will always get to her, as she is insatiable for attention at all times. Instead of going the route to your home, she pulls into a secluded are, of what you assumed was a recreational park.

"I'm sorry." She says firmly, grabbing your face by the chin to look at you, eye to eye.

"I don't forgive you." You spit back, as you turn back to the windshield and cross your arms like a child.

"The attitude, really?" She questions, you can hear the smirk rising in her voice.

"Mhm, it's what you deserve." She starts unbuckling her belt and you can't help but clench around nothing, you loved when she was dominant like that.

"Can I fuck you, right here, right now?" She questions, you're still pissed at her, livid if anything but you can't deny her, you needed the hate sex. No you CRAVED it.

"Fine" you act nonchalant, when in reality, you're drooling, sopping wet. You're sure there's a snail trail left behind on your underwear.

Whimpering with need, you slip your free hand up your dress, push aside your panties, and toy with your clit. She rubs, back and forth, twice and then reaches for your breasts . You mewl the moment she begins to knead them. Your wife begins pinching your nipple and tugging at it. While your fingers grow slick with your own juices.

She begins to bunch up your dress, pulling it up and over your shoulders. You greedily move your body in a way that allows her to do so. Neither of you waste any time. Her hands are on your hips, and you are swinging your leg over so that you can straddle her.

Ellie mouths your cleavage, her tongue leaving trails of saliva that follow as she kisses her way down. You place your hands on her shoulders to keep your from falling as she leans you backwards. You can feel the strap prodding you. You ground down against it, earning an array of curses.

She positions you on your hands and knees so that you are stretched across the leather seats. Her fingers dip into your panties and for a moment, before she retracts, making you all the more greedy.

She tugs your panties down. The strap teasing your entrance, swiping along your folds. She fucks your outer lips, her hands guiding your hips back and forth. Drool begins to trail out of the corner of your lips, and you slurped what you could back into your mouth so that you don't give her the satisfaction of knowing you are aroused.

"You don't deserve this, pussy" you moan, not caring how out of breath you are, or how petty you sound. She snaps her hips forward angrily, stroking the spot inside of you that has your legs nearly in spasms. She knows your body so well.

"Really, cause by the way you're squeezing on me, it seems like I do" she replies cockily, before letting out a loud groan. Her lips are now on your neck, her body envelops yours as she thrusts wildly in and out of you. You turn your head to the side, catching her lips. Your tongues danced together, hers working against yours more fiercely when she begins to toy with your clit with two fingers.

Your vision blurs, eyelids flutter as your orgasm washes over you. Her hands keep you from collapsing. Neither of you made the move to break apart for several seconds. You enjoy the feeling of her so full inside of you, of her holding you as you both come down from your high.

"I love you" she pants as she slips out, you let out a loud wince at the emptiness. You turn back around and quickly search for your dress and throw it back on.

"Then start acting like it." You say to her, as you pull down your dress and buckle yourself in.

#ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie williams x reader #reader x ellie williams #tlou ellie #ellie williams fic #ellie williams fluff #reader x ellie #ellie the last of us #ellie x reader #tlou #elliewillimssmut

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mistydeyes · 9 months

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OMG THERES 1K OF YOU!! I cannot believe it! Thank you all so much for all the love and support these last few months :) Literally tearing up at how many people love my works. It all started with a silly little pharmacist fic and look at where we are now!

To celebrate, I will be opening up my inbox for some prompts! For the next week, feel free to send me a character, a prompt below, and any other details (ex. female, male, or g/n character) :)

aesthetic prompts 💌 - CLOSED NOW! thank you for all the submissions :)

soft and cute - all fluff!

vase of flowers - they return home to your door with a small bouquet of flowers with rudy

loveseat - shopping for furniture for your shared home

linen tablecloths - hosting a dinner party (one that is pinterest worthy)

orange juice - sick days call for the best care

vintage maps - a spontaneous trip with an event filled itinerary

cherry lip balm - what was your first kiss like? with graves

paper rings - “put this on” “why did you make a ring out of the straw wrapper?”

ramekins of soup - you both are not experienced chefs but you try a new recipe in the kitchen

tuberose- looking at old photo albums and reminiscing on old memories

tote bags - “hey can you hold this for me?” “why do you have so many things?” “it’s not my fault these pockets don’t hold anything”

sugar cubes - they surprise you with your favorite dessert/sweet treat with price

music - “i made you a playlist!”

pearls - a fancy dinner out with expensive clothes and dining

folded sheets - "hi, i'm your neighbor across the hall :)"

gold - a small gifted ring as a token of your love with price

unlit cigarette - meeting in the most unexpected of places

hot chocolate - a warm snowed in cabin with nowhere to go

house plant - “for your new apartment!” “you know i’m not here enough to water that”

pastel bonnets and rattles - “we are NOT naming our child that”

perfume - perfume bottles decorate your bureau and you decide to let them choose your scent for the day with gaz

friendship bracelets - friends don't look at friends that way, is there something between us? with ghost

shower of tears - angst

crystal glasses - a fight ends with shattered wine glasses and someone is left to pick up the pieces with gaz

running mascara - "i can't believe you would say that to me" with the 141

hyacinth - they decide to interrupt the wedding just as you're about to say your vows with ghost

cardigans - "please don't go, please don't leave me" with ghost

sea salt - you can't do this anymore and just need to get away from them

stars - "do you think in another universe things would have worked out for us?"

cubic zirconia - you both come to the realization that your relationship is beyond repair

cold sheets - "can you hold me just one more time?" with soap and gaz

hydrangeas - a sudden death leaves one of you without the other for the rest of time

cocktails - "you need to stop drinking too much" "what do you know?"

graveyard - "please i don't want to die" with price

enlisted - military au

empty cartridges - "I want you to run, I'll cover you!"

uniforms - they sure clean up well as you look at them in their dress uniform with price

cigarette smoke - you share a cigarette (and exchange indirect kisses) while on patrol with ghost

confidential files - you're the newest addition to the team and you recognize a familiar face

jacket - you forgot to pack you winter gear and they're helping you avoid the cold

angel - this time you're their knight in shining armor as you save them with soap | with price

manila folders - "I'm being transferred to another unit"

bandages - you are the only one with the med kit and are tasked with patching them up

barbells - "you're doing it wrong, let me show you"

MREs - "can we switch? this food is absolute shit"

hit the showers (18+) - a prank ends with you getting your clothes and towel stolen with soap

wigs - you get sent undercover with them

hot and seductive - smut (18+)

lace (18+) - “wait for me in the bedroom, i have a surprise”with soap

stained lipstick (18+) - rough kisses in the back of an uber with gaz | with ghost

stolen glaces (18+) - "are you going to kiss me or not?"

tanning lotion (18+) - you just wanted help with an even lotion application but now their touch is venturing elsewhere

black and white photos (18+) - you take a few photos so they can remember you (and your body) while on deployment with price: part i and part ii

fruit juice (18+) - "let's test out that theory about drinking pineapple juice"

morning sun (18+) - you have nowhere to go and decide to spend it in bed ;) with ghost | with gaz | with price

silk (18+) - “you look absolutely gorgeous tonight”

#madebyizzie #cod mwii #mw2 imagine #task force 141 #mw2 #kyle gaz garrick #simon ghost riley #john price #johnny soap mactavish #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #call of duty #mw2 headcanons #konig mw2 #alejandro vargas #rodolfo parra

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thedroneranger · 2 years

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Dine In

Jake "Hangman" Seresin

Précis: Jake and his wife have a to-do list they need to finish.

Note: Formerly called Checklist.

Warnings: 18+ only, smut.

Word count: 2.2k

A dull pop signified success, and her lips curved into a smile as she set the cork, still impaled by the corkscrew, aside. Glass of wine in hand, she was ready to knead and slice until she had enough cracked pepper fettuccine for two.

The fettuccine rested in the fridge as she moved onto the sauce. Using her grandmother’s family recipe that was committed to memory—the only way Nonna would pass it on—she whipped up a creamy alfredo.

The scent had him immediately headed for the kitchen upon entering the house. Enamored by her love for cooking, he watched as she seasoned a pan of sizzling shrimp. Watching her in her element was one of his favorite things. Arms folded across his chest, leaning in the doorway, he continued to watch her until she removed the shrimp from the stove. They locked eyes and she gave him a soft smile.

He poured himself a glass of wine, and then sidled up behind her to place soft kisses on her neck as she prepared to plate their meal. The kisses grew wetter and rougher. His hands desperately roamed her body, hoping an entry point would magically appear in her midi dress.

“Jake, don’t rip this one,” she warned. His smile stamped her skin in response and his teeth nipped her neck. A gasp escaped her lips and her fingers curled around the edge of the counter as Jake flexed his hips into hers. She drew out his name as he trailed kisses up the back of her neck and then nuzzled just the right spot behind her ear.

Her bottom lip rolled between her teeth as she bit back a moan. She pushed her hips into his and felt his growing desire. A gasp fell from her mouth as she felt the back seam of her dress skirt split further than designed. The rush of air was followed by Jake’s hands sliding along the curve of her backside. She relaxed into his grip as his hands came to rest on her hips.

“No panties?” he asked, his hand searching for fabric to dip his fingers into. His lips grazed her ear, and he continued kissing her neck.

“One less thing for you to rip,” she teased. Jake squeezed her hips and, obediently, she turned to face him. In sync, she hopped as he lifted her onto the counter. He stepped between her knees and captured her lips with his.

Her fingers curled into his hair, pulling his head back to curtail his onslaught. “Let’s get through dinner first?” He groaned with mixed emotions. “It’s the least you could do.” He followed her gaze as she looked down at the ripped dress skirt resting between her thighs.

“Sorry.” The corners of his eyes crinkled and laugh lines hugged his signature smile. Capturing his bottom lip between his teeth, he sighed and helped her off the counter. She grabbed his chin with her index finger and thumb, placing a soft kiss on his lips before she turned back to the counter.

While she plated their food, Jake set the table and poured fresh glasses of wine. Still thinking about after dinner activities, he refocused himself to the current moment. He never wanted to take for granted what she brought to their relationship, including her Michelin-level cooking skills and willingness to prepare homemade meals every night.

Jake watched as she delivered their plates to the table. Then, he followed her to her seat, where he pulled out her chair and then pushed it in as she sat. Jake’s need to perform chivalrous acts even in the privacy of their home was one of the many things she loved about him. She mouthed “thank you” as he made his way to his own seat.

The minute the first bite hit his tongue he was glad she made him have dinner. The shrimp was perfectly cooked and the sauce was a perfect garlicky, buttery cream. Tonight he allowed himself to have a second helping—it wasn’t often he allowed himself to, what he called, overindulge.

Their post dinner routine included lounging at the table to finish their wine and talk about their days. “I could use more wine,” she said as she rose to clear their plates and collect the bottle from the kitchen island. Jake’s gaze followed her every move. She refilled her own, and then came to top off his. “You know,” she said while she poured, “we haven’t checked this room off the list yet.” He looked up at her to see her innocently chewing on her lip awaiting his reply. She glanced at him through her eyelashes. An involuntary groan left his throat and she tried not to smirk.

For so long, the pair hadn’t had a place together to call home. Of course, he owned property back in Texas, including a share of the family homestead, but otherwise he relied on government-issued housing. She, on the other hand, owned a penthouse condo in a highrise close to the heart of downtown Fresno. On weekends he drove up there, and during the week she stayed with him in Lemoore. She brought his house to life, not just with her physical presence but also her interior design skills. It wasn’t too tall of an order since she designed interiors for a living.

After a drunken night that led to them agreeing to elope on a yacht in the French Riviera, they tied the knot with only their parents as witnesses a few weeks later. Once they were back in the States, they found the perfect starter home. Given their talks about finding a place to own together, Jake paid in cash to close the deal and surprised her as a belated wedding gift. Since moving in, it had been their mission to christen every room of their new home.

Early in their relationship, Jake has asked her for anal and she told him that was reserved for the man that put a ring on her finger. With a five-carat diamond engagement ring and the family heirloom wedding band on her finger, Jake happily sodomized her for the first encounter in their bedroom. Adventurous, and equal opportunists, she returned the favor as they checked both guest bedrooms off their list.

Since then, she had been pressed into the glass wall of their master ensuite shower, as well as the tile walls of the guest showers. More recently, they enjoyed an afternoon quickie in the half-bath. She sat on the sink, legs over Jake’s shoulders as he thrust into her. His lips never left her neck—she still had faint purple marks she rarely bothered to cover when she went out in public.

In the living room, Jake had thoroughly enjoyed the view when she was curled over the arm of the couch, elbows on the floor, while he knelt on the seat cushions, hands on her hips, thrusting into her from behind. He definitely kept that image for the nights he spent alone.

Another scene in his spank bank was the morning he made her french toast and then ate her out on the kitchen island. The same scenario happened a second time when he made waffles. The third time it occurred, he had made pancakes.

With the flexibility of her job, she often worked from their home office. The nights Jake couldn’t make it home, she would lean back in her chair and pleasure herself with Jake on the phone. She even kept a toy in the top drawer in case she wanted a little help. The last time Jake was coaching her to orgasm, she nearly tipped over in her chair when he waltzed into the room still on the phone. Him bending her over the desk was her favorite finish yet.

One Saturday she was home alone doing laundry when Jake returned a day early from a short deployment. After nearly giving her a heart attack, she was so overjoyed to see him, she undressed him and sucked him off with his ass pressed against the humming dryer.

Although Jake grew up wealthy, he wasn’t materialistic. However, he did have a few prized possessions. One of which was his 1967 Ford Mustang that had moved from a storage unit to their garage after their home purchase. The first time they had sex in his car, Jake was speeding down the Pacific Coast Highway with her lips hugging his cock. The second time, it was parked in the garage and she rode his lap in the driver’s seat.

Naturally, she had put her design skills to work throughout their home. Their pride and joy was the outdoor living oasis she had conjured up in the backyard. The pool had nice architecture and included a jacuzzi they had taken advantage of several times.

However, the entertainment area, complete with full outdoor kitchen and an ornate fireplace, was where they most often ended up in the throes of passion. Between the privacy fence and the lush foliage, there wasn’t much for the neighbors to see, but Jake’s favorite part of their outdoor love-making sessions was stuffing her panties in her mouth to stifle her vocals.

Now, here they were, sitting in the final room on their checklist. “What did you have in mind, Mrs. Seresin?” His hand slithered into the back of her torn dress, grazing her thighs and squeezing one of her cheeks. She set the wine bottle on the table and straddled his lap. His hands rested on her waist while hers looped around his neck. Hips pressing into him, she leaned closer so their lips were millimeters apart.

“Are you hungry for dessert?” She pressed her lips to his and coaxed him into parting them with her tongue. He welcomed the kiss, moving his hands so one palmed her ass and the other gripped her hip tighter—there would be fingerprint-shaped bruises tomorrow.

They separated for air, and she slid from his lap to the table. She watched his expression as she ran her toes from his lap, up his chest and rested her ankle on his shoulder. Her other foot found purchase on the seat of his chair as he pressed wet kisses along her calf and then her thigh. As he came closer to her core, the kisses changed to soft bites.

Her eyes never left him as he teased and caressed everywhere except where she really wanted. The knot in her abdomen was tightening and her breath kept hitching, which egged him on. “Is dessert ready?” he asked.

She tossed her head back and bit her lip to stifle a grin. “Perfectly ripe.” His radiant smile appeared, and she thought she might come right then. He gripped the backs of her thighs and gently pushed them further apart, forcing her further onto her back. She transitioned from her hands to her elbows for support so she could continue to watch Jake. He looped his arms in the crooks where her thighs met her hips as his broad tongue swiped the length of her soaking core. She let out the sweetest moan as his tongue hit her most sensitive nerves. He kept licking and sucking, getting into a rhythm and eventually delving his tongue into her. She rocked her hips into his face as he tongued her.

Her breath shortened and her fingers sprawled across the tabletop looking for any sort of hold. Eventually, she just laid back, wiggling out of her tattered dress, allowing her back to arch. In just her lacy bra—one of Jake’s favorites—she kneaded her breasts. “That’s it, baby,” Jake said between laps.

He alternated sucking on her slick folds while he curled his fingers inside her, grazing that euphoric spongy spot each time. “Jake.” Her voice was breathy. “I want you inside me.”

Jake’s pants were already uncomfortably tight. How could he deny his wife as she lay spread before him? Quickly, he unbuckled his pants and pushed them to his ankles. The sound she made when he plunged into her without warning nearly made him come.

He watched as she withered beneath him. Jake leaned forward and captured her mouth in a sloppy kiss, savoring her arousal mix with his saliva. Her arms wrapped around his neck as they messily made out. He enjoyed the breathy grunts that left her lips each time he bottomed out.

She reached between them and circled two fingers on her engorged bud, pushing herself over the edge. Jake continued to thrust into her as her walls clenched around him. Her spasmodic embrace was enough to bring him to climax. His hip stuttered as he released into her. He slowed and enjoyed the sight as more cum oozed between them with each push. Jake swiped his finger through their mix arousal and smeared it over her clit. The gentle stimulation kept her purring as she watched him through hooded eyes.

Finally, still connected, he leaned forward so their faces were inches apart. She brought a hand to the side of his face. He turned and kissed her palm. “Check dining room off the list,” she said.

“Check,” he said with another kiss to her palm and a short thrust of his hips for emphasis. They both smiled.

Her thumb ran along his cheek bone as they stared at each other. “How did I get so lucky?”

“You?” he asked in disbelief. “I get to eat my dinner and my wife at the same table. I’m the luckiest man alive.”

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shes-so-insane · 1 year

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Fyodor’s Tool (PT 4)

WARNINGS: mention of smut, alcohol

You enter the room he had shown you. It had to be his bedroom. A grand bed with crimson blankets, curtains draped over. Artwork littered the walls. A white faux fur rug. For a criminal, he had excellent taste. You approach the vanity with the mirror.

Unraveling the cloth, you discovered a gorgeous gown. Why had he given this to you? Across the waistline seemed to be diamonds. Whether or not they were real wasn’t a concern. After putting it on, you stared at yourself in the mirror. It fit perfectly. But how? Did he guess your size? Or did he already know?

You were starting to enjoy the company of this Russian entity. You were enjoying the show, and you want to see how it should end. So, it was time for you to fully give in to his grip. You excited the room, and entered into the dining room. The kitchen was but a hallway away. It was a quaint house, but beautiful and serene. The smell of spices and meat meets you, and you realize that you were quite hungry.

You set yourself at the table. It seemed that you and him were having dinner early today. Or maybe this is the only time he does actually eat, since he’s in that purple room all day, or out. He enters the dinning room, a bottle of Russian red grape wine. It seemed to be quite expensive. He sets your glass down, and his right across. Without saying anything, or even looking at you, he pours both glasses and enters back in the kitchen. Something about him was so alluring. He was just wearing his suit, his hat had been taken off. He felt so strange to you. And so attractive.

Just shortly later he comes back with a small platter of food and sets it to the side of the table while he arranges two plates. Greens, as well as what seemed to be chicken. It smelled familiar and made you feel warm and comfortable. “Chicken Kiev.” He says, not looking up from the plates. “What?”

“The meal I have prepared, it’s a Russian dish called chicken kiev. I think you’ll enjoy it. It’s my own recipe.” He finishes plating, then catches your eye and studies your figure in the dress.

“Krasivyy.” (beautiful)

Something about his comment made you laugh to yourself. For such a violent man, he was tender and sincere.

He sets the food down, and sits across from you. You were merely two feet away. He takes a sip of the wine. “Why is it that I am so drawn to you?” You said that without thinking. Though you felt stupid, you keep a straight face. It must have caught him off guard, because his eyes widened as he put his elbows on the table to rest his head in his hands.

“We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight.”

_____________________________________________

The dinner goes on, a few glasses of wine down. Conversations about everything and anything.

Fyodor takes notice of your hand, and sets his on yours. It’s cold, yet comforting. He does nothing but stare as you blush.

He stands, his hand still a hold of yours, and guides you to his room, without cleaning up from the meal. He closes the door, swiftly.

You laugh and spin to face him.

“What are you doing?” You say, lightly as you eye him.

He says nothing as he disappears into his closet. You sit on his bed, shifting uncomfortably at the thought of him being naked in the room next to you. He comes back, wearing sweatpants, and no shirt. Your eyes go over his body, studying his pale abdomen. He had the presence of abs, but not overly defined.

“You’re on my bed, why?”

Your face turns red and you get up.

“I’m sorry, I uh... um” this was not the impression you wanted.

He approaches you. His face above yours, purple eyes staring into you.

“I was going to go to sleep, but it seems that you’ve had others thoughts. I saw the way you were staring at me earlier.”

What? He sleeps during the day?

“Uhh... no! I was.. I was just sitting.” you say, still red from the embarrassing assumption.

You can smell him, his fragrance was intoxicating, and fresh. You didn’t think of him lustfully before. He breathes in deep as he walks to sit on the side of his bed, facing the wall. You let out the breath you were holding.

He pours himself a glass of water on his bedside table, and takes an iron pill. Anemic? It makes sense considering the layers he wears outside.

“Uhm.. do you want me to leave?” His silence was painfully awkward for you. Fyodor stands up and approaches you again, this time with a slight smile, his eyes a darker shade than before. His hand meets your waist. “No. You can stay. It would be awfully rude of me to kick you out now, wouldn’t it?”

Your stomach felt hot. You suddenly wanted his hands all over you. You stay silent as you hold the eye contact.

He gently takes hold of your face, and pulls you in for a soft, tender kiss.

So many thoughts rushed through your head. Why was this happening so quickly? So abruptly?

But his lips felt right.

#fyodor dostoevsky #fyodor x y/n #fyodor x reader #bsd #bungou stray dogs

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strandnreyes · 2 years

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more from the coastal au. it’s becoming a monster of a fic... but what’s new?

Carlos likes having TK looking comfortable in his space. He likes the way he drums his fingers on the countertop, how he offers to flip the chicken for Carlos while he gets out the dishes, how their elbows brush as TK comes back inside.

“Is there anything else you need me to do?”

Carlos shakes his head, pulling the lettuce and the rest of the salad fixings out of the fridge. “Don't worry. I got it.”

TK pins him with a look. “Carlos, you’re helping me fix my house for free and now you’re making me dinner. The least I can do is help.”

“I’m fixing your house for free?”

“Oh,” TK stammers. “I can pay you. Of course I’ll pay you. That’s not a problem, I—”

Carlos takes pity on him. “Relax, TK. I was just joking.”

TK rolls his eyes. “What happened to the sweet guy you were when we met,” he mutters.

Carlos laughs to cover the swoop in his chest from hearing TK’s first impression of him.

“Let me at least get the salad ready while you go make sure the chicken is done,” TK continues. “I didn’t exactly grill much in my apartment in New York.”

With a nod and one last look at TK who’s starting to chop the tomatoes, Carlos grabs a fresh plate and goes to check on the meat. He decides to give it one more minute, popping his head back into the sliding door in the meantime. “Do you want to eat out here?”

TK looks out onto the back deck with the setting sun, an environment that’s a little too romantic for a casual dinner between neighbors, but then he glances at Carlos’ papers on the dining table. “Yeah. Seems like you have a whole system over there that I don’t want to mess with.”

“That’s not exactly my system. I’m normally more organized with notes, but writing has been all over the place for me lately.”

“That’s your definition of a mess?” TK raises a brow. “There are like… three very neat piles sitting there.”

“Four,” he corrects. “And my abandoned coffee mug from this morning.”

TK laughs, shaking his head, and Carlos ducks back outside.

He plates the chicken before rejoining TK in the kitchen, pulling the potatoes out of the oven as TK finishes up the salad. They stand side by side as they dish up their respective servings, making small talk about how writing is going for Carlos before shifting into TK’s work at the diner and how business is still steady despite the colder days and dwindling residents. The scene is way too domestic and it’s only after Carlos busies himself with pulling out a bottle of wine that he realizes the drink will only add to that feeling.

Except it never gets uncorked, getting put away the second after TK refuses and Carlos fumbles through an apology.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed.”

“Don’t worry about it,” TK shakes his head. “Water is good enough for me, but if you want to drink I don’t mind,” he says as he carries his plate outside.

Carlos joins him a minute later, balancing his own plate and two glasses of water. TK doesn’t say anything about it, but the small smile he tries to hide as he notices feels like a point in Carlos’ favor.

He subtly watches TK take a bite before he digs into his own plate, trying to gauge his reaction. Carlos has years of cooking experience and he finds joy in replicating his family’s recipes as well as creating his own, too. He knows he’s a good cook, but it’s different when he’s trying to impress someone.

TK coughing a couple of seconds after he started chewing was not the reaction Carlos was hoping for.

Carlos sets his fork down immediately, staring wide-eyed as TK reaches for his water and hoping to god TK doesn’t have an allergy that he didn’t know about. “Are you okay?”

He only gets a nod in response, TK not able to produce words around his coughs just yet. But just as Carlos’ worry kicks up a notch, TK chokes out, “I’m okay,” sounding anything but. After a gulp of water he gets out, “I’m just not used to spicy.”

Carlos relaxes a fraction, and then looks at the chicken. “This is spicy?”

With watery eyes and a laugh around another sip of water, TK shakes his head. “Shut up.”

“I was being serious,” Carlos chuckles. “There were a few spices in the marinade, but I didn’t think this was that bad.”

“Not everyone was raised on this,” TK points out.

“Sorry,” Carlos winces. “I could’ve done something milder.”

“No, it’s really good. You’re a good cook. I just wasn't expecting that.”

Carlos finally takes a bite of his own, chewing slowly to see if he accidentally added a little more spice than he meant to, but years of eating foods way hotter than this makes the chicken seem almost too bland.

His reaction must be written all over his face because TK fights back a smile, shaking his head. “Yes, I’m a lightweight. You can say it.”

“I wasn’t going to say it,” Carlos laughs and TK gives him an unimpressed look. He definitely thought it, but he wasn’t going to say it.

The next bite TK takes is smaller and he pierces a chunk of potato on his fork at the same time, and that seems to do the trick because there’s no repeat incident. Unless he just has a really good poker face.

#wip wednesday #911 lone star #tarlos #tk strand #carlos reyes

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ascendantmarv · 1 year

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i definitely should’ve posted this on tobias’s birthday the other day, but i totally forgot about this story until now, so consider this a late birthday present to him

it's a little one-shot about amarinda calling tobias toby :)

“Toby”

It was just after dawn, and two people sat at the table in the dining hall of the castle while Amarinda was down in the kitchen with Cook. Since she had no more princess duties to take care of, she decided she needed something to occupy her time, so she asked Cook if she could be her apprentice. Luckily, Cook was rather fond of Amarinda, so she gladly took her on.

Yesterday, Amarinda perfected her first dish, and this morning, she woke up Tobias and Imogen as early as she deemed acceptable so the two of them would be the first to try it.

Imogen watched from across the table as Tobias yawned and rested his head in his hands. “What, you never get up early?” she asked through a chuckle.

Tobias groaned and dragged his hand down his cheek, from his hair to his chin. Imogen could see very dark bags under his eyes. “I get up earlier than Jaron. Just never earlier than her.” He titled his head toward Amarinda and groaned again, then dropped his head onto the table. Imogen smiled and shifted her gaze to Amarinda, who was walking toward the table, carrying one plate of food in each hand.

She placed one in front of Imogen and used the other to push Tobias out of the way. He slowly lifted his head from the table, and Amarinda replaced it with the food. He stared at it.

“It’s smoked herring!” Amarinda said with a smile. Imogen grabbed her fork and poked around at the fish. “Oh!” Amarinda ran back into the kitchen and came back with two goblets. “Served with wine.”

Tobias grabbed the wine and gulped it down, then slammed it back onto the table. “Hoo!” he said. His eyes were now two times wider than before, but his dark circles were still very apparent. He shook his head around. “There we go.”

Imogen tilted her head at him. “It’s interesting, the difference between you two. Jaron uses wine to fall asleep.”

Tobias trilled his lips and shook his head. “Yeah, most people use it to fall asleep. I just hate the taste, so it wakes me up.” He picked up his fork and dug it into the herring. Amarinda watched in anticipation as he brought it to his mouth and chewed. His eyes narrowed in surprise. “Oh this is delicious,” he said, as he moved for another bite. He placed his free hand on top of Amarinda’s. “Well done, my love.”

She tilted her head and smiled fondly, watching Tobias take bite after bite. Something about it reminded her of when they first fell in love, as they were making their way back to Drylliad together. One of the nights they spent together, they found the tiniest bit of food, and although Tobias let her eat first, he ate his whole portion almost as soon as it touched his fingers.

“This is wonderful, Amarinda, oh my goodness.”

She snapped out of her trance and looked at Imogen, who was covering her mouth as she chewed. “I’m glad you like it! Cook was pleased with it when I made it for her, but I was most nervous to get the opinions of you two.” She let out a sigh and the tension in her shoulders fell away.

Tobias noticed her reaction and looked at her, perplexed. “You were really worried we wouldn’t like it?”

“Toby, you know how much I value your opinion. If you didn’t like it, I honestly doubt I’d make this recipe again,” she laughed.

Tobias froze at “Toby”. Heat immediately rose to his cheeks and he slowly looked across the table at Imogen. She was smiling. She looked as though she knew she shouldn’t be smiling, but was too amused to try to hide it. Tobias contorted his face into an unreadable emotion and let out a loud, exasperated sigh.

“Oh, you’re being dramatic,” Amarinda said, grabbing his empty plate and turning to walk back into the kitchen. As she began walking away, she yelled over her shoulder, “It’s your name!”

Tobias glued his eyes to Amarinda as she left because he was too embarrassed to look anywhere else. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Imogen resume picking at her breakfast, but he remained frozen for a few more moments. When he turned back to her, she changed the topic entirely. “So,” she began, “what dish do you think she’ll make next?”

Tobias cleared his throat and ran his fingers through his hair. “Something with meat, I suppose. She’s a big fan of Cook’s meaty breakfasts, so it’d make sense for her to want to be able to make it herself.” His face felt cooler, and it was most certainly less red now that he knew she wasn’t going to mention his nickname.

“Oh, I’m sure that’ll taste lovely, don’t you think,” she paused, and Tobias watched as the smile melted onto her face again, “Toby?”

The blood rushed back to his cheeks immediately and he dropped his head into his hands and groaned, “Please don’t tell them, oh my god.”

#tobiarinda ft imogen #tobiarinda #the ascendance series #the shadow throne #the captive kingdom #the shattered castle #tst #tck #tsc #it's super short i'm sorry but we all know how much i love one-shots

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purplesong1028 · 2 years

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A Forest Tale

Chapter 2: Wine and Dine

Rating: General Audience

Paring: Chepe/Pacho

Words: 3,872

Fantasy, AU, !Fox Pacho, !Shapeshifter Pacho

The next day, Chepe wakes up in the morning when sunlight shines through the thin slit between his curtains. He takes a shower, brushes his teeth, and gets dressed as usual. As he walks out of his bedroom, he almost believes yesterday was nothing but a crazy dream. There’s no monster, no magic, life still makes sense, and he’ll see the fox lounging by the couch under the sunshine as usual.

But it wasn’t a dream.

He sees the fox, no, Pacho apparently, sitting by the dining table, slowly sipping a cup of coffee as the maid stands next to him with a confused expression.

Fuck, he better didn’t do anything too weird.

“Buenos Días Carmen!” Chepe greets her cheerfully, playing it casual. “I see you’ve met our guest?”

“Sí señor.” Carmen smiles apologetically, shaking her head a little. “I must have been tired recently. I don’t even remember when Mr. Herrera came.”

“Really? Shit, are you getting old or what, darling?” He laughs it off, giving her a hug from the side. Carmen is a very nice woman and she really doesn’t deserve this. “Well, how about you take today off and have some rest? We’re going out later anyway.”

“No señor, that’s not necessary…”

“Hey, I insist, hm?” Chepe gives her a friendly wink. On the back of his mind, he realizes he’ll also have to make up some cover story for the fox’s disappearance. He’ll just pretend it’s missing and tell the guys to look for it later. He pays them enough for an occasional useless task.

Carmen nods and walks away, obeying his order, but not before bringing plates of breakfast from the kitchen for both of them. Once they’re completely alone, Chepe finally addresses the huge problem in front of him.

“So, still human, huh?”

“As long as I want to be.” Pacho shrugs a little, looking down at the cup of coffee in his hands. “This tastes terrible. Do humans really like it?”

“Well, many of us don’t drink it for the taste. It helps us to stay awake.” Chepe smiles a little, amused by the innocence. “What do you like to eat then? Or do you eat at all?”

“I don’t need to. I get my energy in other ways, but I’d like to try what you eat.”

Honestly, Chepe is quite curious about how exactly they get their energy, but right now, he has an idea for something far more interesting. “So you’ve never eaten any human food before at all, yeah?”

“No.”

“Wait wait…” He moves the plate away as Pacho is about to cut the sunny side up eggs with a fork. “No, you’re not going to have your first human meal like that.”

“Why not? It’s what you’re having.”

“It’s good, but you can have it any day, alright?” He gets up and walks into the kitchen, grabbing an apron.

“Look, Gilberto and I have been trying to settle this shit for decades. His grandma had a recipe for huevos pericos, and my grandma had hers. Since you haven’t tried any food at all, you’ve got no preference, no bias! You’re telling me today, whose recipe is better, got it?”

“I guess?” Pacho follows him into the kitchen, curiously touching the wares. “Is that important?”

“Oh trust me, it’s very important.”

“I see. I do hear people are very particular with their food.”

It’s by no means a complicated dish, probably one of the first things Chepe learnt to cook, but as Pacho leans on the counter, watching him intensely as he takes out a few eggs and tomatoes from the fridge, he’s suddenly overtaken by a great urge to show off. Damn, now he wishes he had picked something more difficult to make.

He cracks the eggs, and dices the tomatoes more quickly than needed. But what really catches Pacho’s attention seems to be the stove.

“Humans invented fire, right? After that, they could eat cooked meat, which made them get sick less often.”

Chepe pours the tomato chunks into the frying pan, mixing them with the scrambled eggs. “Yeah! But where the hell did you learn all that?”

“As I said, I’ve been listening to humans talking for over 500 years. You people talk all the time about random stuff.” Pacho shrugs, moving closer. “Smells really good, whose recipe is this?”

“Well, this part is actually the same, seasoning is what makes all the difference.”

“Seasoning?”

“Yeah, like the stuff we put in our food, to make it more flavorful?” Chepe picks up the salt. “Ever heard of this? Salt? or sugar?”

“I know sugar is the sweet one.”

“That’s right! And salt is the…salty one, guess that doesn’t really help.” Chepe snorts, sliding the salt across the counter to Pacho’s direction. “Feel free to taste it, just a little though. It doesn’t taste that good on its own”

From his side vision, he watches Pacho lightly touch the salt with his fingertips, and then licks them. Chepe can’t help but notice how pink his tongue is.

“You’re right, this doesn’t taste good at all. You put it in your food?”

“Yup! That’s one of our magics, you know?” He grabs a plate from the cabinet. “Alright, this is Gilberto’s, but don’t try it yet. You need to wait for both to be ready.”

Pacho takes the finished plate of food from him. “Is there anything I can do?”

“No! You don’t even know what salt is!” Chepe laughs out. He hasn’t felt such pure joy in a long time. It’s not that he doesn’t enjoy his life, but there is something special about a completely naive person, not in a bad way, like a clean sheet of white paper, ready to be written however he wants.

Maybe that’s one of the reasons people want to have children? But then he remembers this motherfucker has lived for over 500 years, and that knowledge suddenly becomes more disturbing than ever. He quickly shakes it out of his mind, and goes back to his own recipe.

By the time Chepe pours the second huevos pericos onto the plate, Pacho’s already sitting by the dining table again, twirling a fork between his long fingers. The movements are visibly faster and more complicated than any regular human's. Maybe only a magician can compare.

“Are you always that fast with your hands?”

“I’m just faster than humans.” Pacho brings the fork to a prompt stop with his thumb and index finger. “Stronger too, I think.”

“Yeah yeah, we get it, Superman. What else? You can’t get hurt?”

“I can, just not easily. What’s Superman?”

“…Never mind,” Chepe places the second plate in front of him, really doesn’t want to get into American comics, which he doesn’t even know that much about, “just try the food.”

Pacho looks down at the two almost identical plates, and sticks his fork into one. He takes a sweet long time chewing the food before he swallows, and then does the same with the other one.

“So?” Chepe asks, actually getting a little bit nervous with all the expectation and suspense. Well, he’s not ashamed. This is about his abuela’s honor.

Pacho glaces at the plates again, and then looks back up at him with a smile. “I think yours is better.”

“I knew it!” Chepe laughs out wholeheartedly. “Fuck, I wish I could tell Gilberto right to his face, but then I’d have to tell him about you!”

“I’d prefer if you don’t? At least not for now.”

“I’m not.” Chepe waves him off. “No one’s going to believe it anyway. They’d think I’ve gone mad.”

“I saw Gilberto and Miguel, from your memories. I know you’re very close.” Pacho quickly eats up the food, clearly enjoying this new found activity, yet somehow his manners are still quite elegant. “Remember that time when you had a very nice dream on a couch?”

“Huh, so that was you.” The words came out a little harsher than he intended. But really, who can blame him? Hearing someone admitting literally going into your dreams is not a pleasant feeling at all.

“Yes, but I didn’t cause any harm, I just wanted to…”

“No, you need to get this.” Chepe interrupts him. “You didn’t cause any physical harm, but going into my brain without my permission? That’s a big no.”

“I won’t do it again if it bothers you.” Pacho shrugs, finishing up a plate. “I just wanted to know you.”

“Ok?” Chepe leans back into his chair, now feeling a little curious. “Then tell me, what did you find out? What do you think you know about me?”

“I only looked for good memories. They just seem like…” Pacho makes a vague gesture like he’s trying to find the right words, an incredibly vivid human behavior. “You are the happiest when you’re around a few people you really like.”

Chepe doesn’t know what changed on his face, but something must have betrayed him, because Pacho immediately adds more explanations.

“Or love, maybe. Whatever that means for humans.”

“Love?” Chepe snorts, “for God’s sake, your second day of being a human, and you’re talking about love.”

“I know it’s one of the most powerful human emotions.” Pacho stares into his eyes. It doesn’t have the overbearing power like yesterday, but the unmasked inquisiveness and enthusiasm almost carry magic on their own. “I wonder what it’s like.”

“Well, no one can help you with that.” Chepe takes a sip of coffee to hide the uneasiness in his chest. He feels dangerously exposed, and rightfully so, who wouldn’t in front of this brain-reading monster? But there’s also something else, something more unnerving that he can’t even identify.

“You can only find out about love on your own.”

To Chepe’s favor, that brief talk of love seems to get the new human into some deep thoughts, so they finish the rest of their breakfast more or less in silence.

“Yesterday you said you would use your magic to help me, when I need it, right?” He speaks again as Pacho finishes both huevos pericos.

“Yeah, what do you want me to do?” Pacho says that in such a casual manner, as if he would happily do anything he’s asked.

“Let’s take a little trip. You’ll see when you get there.” Chepe gets up, walking across the large dining room into the long corridor leading to the main living room, which is connected to the front entrance.

“Buenos días, patrón.” The two guards standing by the door greet him politely.

“Buenos días. I couldn’t find that fox earlier. We need to go take care of some business, can you guys look for it?”

“Sí, patrón. Claro.”

Pacho shoots him a confused glance at first, but it soon turns into a knowing smirk.

“That was clever.”

“Didn’t have a choice, did I?” Chepe unlocks one of his humble cars, a Chevrolet Blazer.

“I’ve seen those on the streets, but never been in one.” Pacho carefully runs his fingertips along the car, like appreciating an artwork. “They changed a lot over the years, right? At first you people used horses to drag it, and then it turned into a machine, and the machine became faster and faster.”

“Sure, that’s a nice way to sum it up.” Chepe chuckles, and gestures at the passenger seat. “Come, get in! I’ll show you how fast it can go.”

Pacho picks up a jacket from the seat before getting in. “Is this supposed to be here?”

“Oh, you can just throw that on the backseat.” Chepe turns the key, and then seeing his denim jacket, he suddenly realizes something that never crossed his mind before.

“Look, don’t take this the wrong way, but why do you have clothes on? You didn’t have any when you were a fox, so where the fuck did the clothes come from?”

“I don’t.” Pacho settles in comfortably, now studying the dashboard. “It’s an illusion.”

“It’s a…” Chepe’s stunned speechless, which at this point isn’t rare anymore, but still, this one fucking hits differently. “Let me get this straight. You’re sitting in my car naked?!”

“Yeah, technically.”

“And if someone touches you…” Chepe slightly leans backwards, physically distancing himself from the possibility. “What would they feel?”

“They’ll feel the clothes, not my skin. Illusion isn’t just about sight.” Pacho finally turns away from the dashboard and shifts his attention back to Chepe. “Is this a problem? I created the illusion because I thought being naked was rude for humans.”

“Yeah, keep it! Please!” Chepe puts a hand up, genuinely worried that this asshole will just drop the illusion. Then he lets out a long sigh, and runs the hand down his face. “Alright, change of plan. Let’s go get you some real fucking clothes first.”

At first, Chepe wanted to go straight to his regular store, just for some casual shirts and jeans, any clothes at all would do. But as they come to a red light, he looks at his new houseguest— really takes a serious look, and he can’t deny that Pacho’s human form is incredibly good-looking. Sunlight shines through the side window, emphasizing the nice angles of his well-defined facial bone structure. Even in a fake plain red shirt and black pants, this guy could easily be a model on the cover of a magazine.

The light turns green, and Chepe takes a U turn.

“Were we going the wrong way?”

“No, just changed my mind.”

This high-end designer tailor shop is really more of Gilberto’s thing. Chepe only comes here when he needs really nice clothes for special occasions. Well, what occasion could possibly be more special than buying clothes for a 500 year old shape-shifting, mind-reading monster?

“Don Chepe!” The owner comes out with the biggest smile, welcoming them into the office. What’s his name again? Ronaldo? No, Roberto. “Come on in, please! I didn’t know you were coming. I would have cleared the store.”

“No, that’s ok.” His first intention is to dismiss it, but then he looks over at Pacho, who’s obviously never been to a clothing store, or any store before. “Actually, yes, some privacy would be nice.”

“Of course, just give me a few minutes. I’ll be right back. Melissa will be happy to serve you a drink.” Roberto gestures to his pretty secretary.

“That’s alright, thank you. We can pour our own drinks.”

“Oh, ok um…we’ll be right back then.” Roberto taps Melissa on the shoulder and leads her out of the office.

“Don’t do anything too weird, alright?” Once they’re alone, he turns to Pacho, who’s feeling the leather on the armchair. “Gilberto would not be happy if I had to kill the owner of his favorite store.”

“Kill him? Why?”

Chepe simply stares at him with a blank expression.

“Oh, you meant if he finds out? You don’t need to kill him for that. He’s just one person. I can make him forget, or make him think he’s dreaming.”

“Yeah I get it, you can fucking do anything, but let’s try to avoid that, ok? Just…” Chepe takes a deep breath out of frustration. “Just don’t do or say anything that a human can’t.”

“Sure, no problem.” Pacho answers with ease, and Chepe can just tell that he’s distracted with the decanter on the table.

“Hey, I’m talking to you!” He snaps his fingers. “Seriously, don’t be weird, understand? Oh! And don’t get naked outside of fitting rooms!”

“Fitting rooms?”

Chepe covers his face with both hands. Fuck, he’s gonna have to kill Roberto later…

“Did I upset you?”

“Upset? No.” That’s not a lie. Upset really isn’t the right word, but he doesn’t know what the right word is, if there is even a right word to describe whatever he got himself into.

“When people say drink, they mean that, right?” Pacho points at the decanter. “Alcohol?”

“Not always.” Chepe answers with a flat tone, practically given up at this point. “But yeah, we meant alcohol earlier.”

“Can I try some?”

He’s not sure why Pacho’s asking him for permission, since the drink isn’t his. “I don’t know if this one’s good. If you want to try alcohol, I’ll let you have some of mine later.”

“Great! Looking forward to it.” With that, Pacho goes back to being curious about everything else in the room, and Chepe just hopes he won’t have to answer any precise questions about tailoring or fashion.

“Gentlemen, sorry for the wait.” Thank God Roberto comes back in time.

“Are we ready?”

“Yes!” Chepe gets up from the leather armchair, and walks out of the office faster than he once left the police station. “My friend here is just looking to grab a few things. We don’t need tailoring today.”

The quicker they get done, the less room for error.

“Oh, I can certainly find quite a few options for this handsome gentleman.” Roberto briefly eyes Pacho up and down, then leads him to an area of shirts. “We can start here if that’s alright with you? What are you looking for today? Formal? Casual?”

Chepe is about to cut in, but Pacho actually doesn’t seem to need any help. “I’m still deciding. Why don’t you show me what you have first?”

“Of course. So over here, these are our best dress shirts. Whichever ones you pick, we can tailor them for you, but you might not even need any adjustment.” Roberto gives Pacho’s upper body another long glance, professional yet appreciative. “Your measurements should fit right into the samples.”

“How about this one?” Pacho stops in front of a golden shirt with colorful patterns. “This feels very nice.”

“Ah yes! This is 100% silk imported straight from China, and made by our Italian designers.”

“Silk?”

“Si señor. I guarantee it’s pure, high-quality silk. It’s so smooth that it will barely feel like another layer on your skin.” Roberto gestures at the fitting room. “Here, would you like to try it on?”

“Fitting room, I see…” Pacho looks at Chepe with a subtle knowing look, and he returns it with a small nod. Great, as long as no one gets naked in public.

“Yeah, I can try it on. Do you have anything else similar?”

“Certainly! Please follow me this way.”

They walk together to another area, just like a regular business owner and a customer, not suspicious or weird at all to any random bystander. Chepe smiles and shakes his head. Well, maybe he worried a bit too much, and that’s funny, cause it’s not like him at all.

“Sir, would you like to come along?” Melissa’s gentle voice pulls him away from his thoughts.

From here, he can still vaguely hear Roberto passionately unloading all his fashion knowledge onto Pacho— probably the only client who cares enough to listen to all that.

“No, I’m good. Maybe you can bring me that drink now, hm?” He smiles at Melissa with a little wink, and enjoys her little blush as she nods and walks away.

Talking to a pretty girl over a drink is always nice, but it gets less nice when it lasts over 30 minutes. Usually something else would have happened within 30 minutes, for better or worse, but right now he can neither take her home or walk away. He’s stuck here while a magical creature is enjoying the first ever shopping spree.

Chepe is just about to go check on things when he sees Pacho walking over to him. The store has an expensive marble floor, and at this moment it looks like a runway, not that he’s ever been to a fashion show, but it can’t be better than this, at least not with male models.

Pacho’s shirt is a blatant neon pink, or hot pink, either way it’s a color that Chepe would never consider on clothes, but it goes inexplicably well with Pacho’s tanned skin, and the subtle patterns made with thin golden threads bring out his brown eyes. The blazer and pants are a lot simpler, both plain light beige, fitting perfectly on his shoulders and hip. All three pieces are silk, which would probably look silly or pretentious on anyone else, but right now, it shows nothing but elegance and charm.

“Wow, that is…” Melissa ends up speaking before he does. “Sir, you look absolutely incredible.”

Chepe looks at her, the woman who’s been flirting with him for half an hour, now staring at Pacho like a starstruck schoolgirl that just met her favorite rockstar. Normally, he would have felt somewhat frustrated, but in this case he honestly can’t even blame her.

“So? What do you think?” Pacho asks him, but not really asking, more like a way to fish for his compliments.

Chepe throws an arm into the air. “I think the lady just spoke for all of us.”

“Great! I’ll get these ones then.”

“Wait, just these?” Chepe says incredulously, almost feeling a little offended. “Man you’ve been in there forever, and this is all you’re getting?”

“What’s the problem? This is the best one.”

“If you’re planning to stay here for a long time, you’ll need more than one shirt, jacket and pants, right?”

Pacho gives him a confused look, and at this point, he knows this is when a question is coming, so he waves Roberto over, promptly ending the conversation before Pacho could say something like why would I need more than one shirt.

“We’ll just take everything he tried. Thanks.”

“Of course! We’ll get them ready for you right away.”

The employees offer to put the dozen bags in his car, but Chepe declines. Letting random people get inside his car is never a good idea, however harmless they might seem. Pacho also doesn’t want any help; in fact he seems to really enjoy carrying each bag himself.

“We’ve known each other for a long time, yeah? So you know how it is.” Chepe leaves a final comment to Roberto as he’s paying the multi thousand dollar bill. “No one else needs to know anything.”

Thinking back, that really wasn’t a smart move. But at the moment, he was too concerned about anyone finding out about what Pacho is, that he completely didn’t realize there was a whole other way to interpret the situation.

“Sí, claro.” Roberto slowly, carefully looks between him and Pacho. “tus secretos están seguros conmigo, Don Chepe.”

Pacho doesn’t stop touching his new clothes on their way back.

“This texture, silk? How is it so smooth?”

“Funny that you asked. It actually comes from an animal. We just call them silkworms.”

“Really? Humans just know all the ways to use us, right?”

He turns to look at Pacho, expecting to see some bitterness or anger, but there’s nothing besides simple curiosity.

“Just look at those.” Pacho stares at the skyscrapers in fascination, as they slowly fade into distance. “No magic would have built them. Only humans could.”

“We can come back another time if you want.” The words come out of his mouth on their own, as a strange rush of soft emotion fills his chest. “Check out the view from the top.”

Pacho looks at him like he’s worth more than all the skyscrapers combined. “Yeah, I’d really like that.”

@ashlingiswriting @yourlocalspacewitxch @kesskirata @mandaloria314 @cheesybadgers @cositapreciosa @criatividad-e @cherixrosa @alreadywritten @marrianena @amane-otaku @sikkui @narcolini @tinylittleobsessions @drabbles-mc

#pacho herrera #narcos #narcos fanfic #pacho herrera fanfic #chepe santacruz #Chepe/Pacho #Chepe x Pacho

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thedisneychef · 1 year

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Belgian Waffles With Berry Compote And Whipped Cream – International Food And Wine Festival

Welcome to the next stop on Magical Blogorail Yellow. Today we are sharing Mother’s Day gift ideas, crafts, and recipes. Waffles make for the perfect morning comfort food. Waffles made with beer and topped with berries? Well, that just makes a perfect comfort food for any time of the day. Mother’s Day is fast approaching and so is the panic among children, spouses, and loved ones on what exactly one should get that special mother in their life… Flowers? Chocolate? A card? Jewelry?

As a mother, to that I say… Yes, you should get her all of that. But along with that, maybe consider a special, intimate breakfast to start the day off right? If Mickey Waffles are already on your regular breakfast rotation, then how about a recipe that brings people to their knees at the Epcot International Food and Wine Festival… By which, of course, I mean the famous Belgian Waffles from the Belgium Marketplace. If you haven’t been lucky enough to have these things, let me just tell you, you’re missing out. These waffles are the things of dreams. The line is always long for a reason. The runners at the start of the Wine and Dine Half Marathon start talking about eating these by the plateful on the buses on the way to the race for a reason. They’re just that incredible. Maybe it’s because they’re aged overnight in the fridge, allowing the flavor to really develop. Maybe it’s because they’re yeast-based, which means they’re light and fluffy. Maybe it’s because the secret ingredient is beer… Regardless, I promise you if you slide these in front of Mom on her special day, you’ll be bringing a huge smile to her face. When you tell her they’re a recipe straight from Disney World, she’ll be touched and maybe even fondly reminisce about past trips and happy memories. And when you tell her there’s alcohol in it, then she’ll probably rejoice. Just think how great her day will get when you give her the flowers, chocolates, and jewelry later on. PS – I didn’t use fresh berries, I used frozen. In New Hampshire, our fresh fruit is pretty scarce right now. I think you could probably get away with doing the same… Trust me, I’m a mom. Are you a fan of this recipe and looking for more like it? Then you have to check out: Make sure you’re following me on Facebook, Twitter, Pinterest, and Instagram! Belgian Waffles with Berry Compote and Whipped Cream - International Food and Wine Festival Author: TheDisneyChef.com Recipe type: Breakfast Cuisine: American As is served at Belgium Marketplace, Epcot's International Food and Wine Festival, Epcot Belgian Waffles Ingredients - Waffles- - 2½ cups all-purpose flour - 2 tablespoons sugar - 1 teaspon dry-active yeast - 1½ cups water - ½ cups milk - 2 tablespoons beer - 1 egg - 1 tablespoon vanilla extract - 1 stick butter, melted - Berry Compote - - 1 tablespoon cornstarch - 1 tablespoon red wine - ½ cup apple or orange juice - ¼ cup sugar - 1 teaspoon lemon juice - 1 cup fresh blueberries - 1 cup fresh blackberries - 1 cup fresh strawberries - 1 cup fresh raspberries Instructions - Sift flour into a bowl, add sugar and yeast. Make a well in the center of the mixture and add water, milk, beer, egg, and vanilla. Stir until dry ingredients are moistened. Do not overmix! Add melted butter and stir. Allow batter to rest overnight in fridge. Batter will be lumpy. - Take batter out of fridge, allow to sit for 20 minutes. Ladle onto a hot waffle iron and cook according to directions on waffle iron. Keep warm. - To make berry compote, combine red wine and cornstarch and allow to dissolve. Combine fruit juice, sugar, lemon juice in a saucepan and bring to a simmer. Add red wine, blueberries, and blackberries. When berries have softened and mixture has thickened, add strawberries and fold in raspberries. Serve warm over waffles and top with whipped cream. Here is the map of our Magical Blogorail Yellow |Mother’s Day Crafts, Recipes, & Gift Ideas Loop. Read the full article

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russellpipkin · 1 year

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New York City’s Most Unique Italian Restaurants Near Times Square

Are you a foodie looking for somewhere special to dine while visiting the Big Apple? If so, New York City’s Times Square has an excellent array of must-visit Italian restaurants during your stay. Whether you’re a food enthusiast or just looking for an incredible dining experience, you should explore Times Square’s dynamic restaurant scene!

From classic red sauce spots to contemporary gourmet experiences—there’s something delicious and unique for everyone. Get ready for some of the most unusual yet delicious creations here inspired by classic recipes around this iconic area. Come over to discover the taste sensations waiting to be discovered near Times Square!

Carmine’s

It’s impossible if you have never heard of one of the most iconic Italian restaurants near Times Square, Carmine’s. Getting a table without booking in advance at Carmine’s is difficult. This family-style eatery serves classic Southern Italian dishes like Chicken Parmigiana. Try their world-famous Sunday Gravy!

Carmine’s unique is their “famiglia style” dishes – large entrees for sharing and perfect for a group. These dishes come in large pans or platters big enough to feed four hungry diners. With plenty of veggie options, you can get your fill! Carmine’s is perfect if you want to try real Italian American cuisine.

Tony’s Di Napoli

If you want something more traditional, visit Tony’s Di Napoli. Tony’s Di Napoli is an upscale Italian restaurant in Times Square. Their appetizers are the perfect start for a night of dining. Try the homemade mozzarella or Fried Calamari!

What makes Tony’s Di Napoli unique is their use of fresh, seasonal ingredients in all their dishes. Every dish has the freshest possible ingredients, ensuring every bite bursts with flavor. The experience is like dining in an Italian countryside villa without ever leaving Times Square.

Osteria al Doge

Osteria al Doge is an intimate Italian restaurant near Times Square. The restaurant specialises in Venetian-style cuisine and has been a local favorite for years. Osteria’s menu features traditional dishes from the Veneto region of Italy, such as pasta with fresh seafood and grilled meats.

This restaurant offers a unique culinary experience by transporting you to the Veneto region with its romantic atmosphere. Osteria al Doge is known for their excellent wine list and attentive service, making it perfect for an intimate dinner or special occasion. If you are looking for a Venetian getaway in the heart of Times Square, this is the place for you!

La Masseria

Another gem near Times Square is La Masseria, an Italian restaurant specializing in Pugliese cuisine. The menu features traditional dishes from the Apulia region of Italy, such as orecchiette pasta, fried seafood, and grilled meats.

Ancient fortified farmhouses inspire La Masseria Restaurant in the Puglia Region of Italy called “Masseria”. Fava beans, chickpeas, and lentils remain a core element in many of La Masseria’s entrees. The 250-bottle wine list encompasses all regions of Italy with a few of the best American and the rest of the world selections to complete the experience. This is a must-visit spot for foodies exploring traditional Italian cuisine in Times Square! the unique atmosphere, friendly service, and delicious cuisine will make your dining experience memorable.

Nino’s 46

If you want a gluten-free Italian dining experience, then Nino’s 46 is the perfect restaurant. The menu features a variety of gluten-free dishes that offer unique flavours and textures. Whether you are looking for traditional Italian favorites or something more exotic, Nino’s can accommodate your dietary needs without compromising taste.

Nino’s is casual and welcoming, making it a great spot for an evening out with friends. The restaurant has indoor and outdoor seating options to enjoy your meal in the fresh air. Nino’s 46 is a delicious Italian dining experience in Times Square. Their gluten-free menu will make your visit unforgettable.

The Palm West Side

Once you’ve exhausted all the Italian spots near Times Square, The Palm West Side is great for classic Italian American steaks and seafood. This iconic restaurant offers a luxurious dining experience with its old-world charm and attentive service.

The menu features signature steaks, chops, and fresh seafood prepared with meticulous attention to detail. The Palm West Side also has an extensive wine list and delicious desserts to finish your meal. What is unique about this restaurant is that it still uses the original recipes from the first Palm restaurant in New York City. Whether looking for an intimate dinner or a special occasion meal, The Palm West Side will make your dining experience truly memorable.

The Best Italian Restaurant near Times Square With A Unique Menu: Sesamo!

The restaurants listed above are all great options for Italian cuisine in Times Square. Each has its unique atmosphere and menu, so you can find the perfect spot to satisfy your craving for Italian food. However, got the winner is: Sesamo Restaurant in Hell’s Kitchen.

Sesamo offers modern Italian cuisine with Asian influences. The first of its kind, the restaurant concept is rooted in their respect for Italian cuisine preparations and appreciation for Asian heritage and home cooking. Inspired by Itameshi (Japanese for “Italian”) cuisine, Sesamo expands on the concept and draws inspiration from many different regional influences in Asia. These influences create a unique menu that offers everything from Italian classics to creative Asian-Italian fusion dishes.

Sesamo is the perfect spot for a special night out in Times Square, but it’s also great for casual dining with friends. The restaurant’s cozy atmosphere and attentive staff make it an ideal spot to enjoy Italian food in Hell’s kitchen. Whether you are looking for classic Italian dishes or something new and innovative, Sesamo is the perfect spot to experience a unique Italian dining experience.

With so many options near Times Square, you will surely find the perfect Italian restaurant to suit your needs! The options are endless, from traditional favourites at La Masseria to modern Asian-Italian fusion dishes at Sesamo. Enjoy a unique Italian dining experience and make your visit to Times Square memorable with one of these amazing restaurants!

source https://sesamorestaurant.com/news/italian-restaurants-near-times-square/ from Sesamo https://sesamorestaurant.blogspot.com/2023/03/new-york-citys-most-unique-italian.html

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dimsumplacesingapore · 1 year

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Cultural Insights A Complete Dim Sum Guide-Yanxi Dim Sum & Hotpot

You’re planning to travel to Singapore and Hong Kong in the near future? Although they have many differences, they share a few many common threads, including the ever-popular brunch which is best known as dim sum. An old-fashioned tradition that is a staple of various different branches of Chinese food, this meal comprises a selection of small plates, served with tea in a pot. The food items are hurled from the kitchen, onto your table when the cart whizzes by, however, you may not know what they are. With that in mind, here’s a helpful guide to the top dim sum recipes and the best ways to prepare the best dim sum dishes.

Har Gow Dumplings The classic dumpling that is steamed, usually has shrimp in it and has a sweet smell. There are occasions when you can find variants with green onion or dill as well, but the fresh dumpling must be tightly wrapped in its crystal clear rice wrapper. It is possible to dip them in a bit of soy-based spice.

Siu Mai Dumplings Siu mai is a different classic. These dumplings, however, are open-faced. Mixing pork and ground shrimp and topping with a hint of roe, these dumplings are deliciously sweet. If you get the chance to taste the dish in a high-end dim dime, it may be impressive and sophisticated.

Sticky Rice Wrapped in lotus leaves or steamed, and served with pork or sausage inside, this tasty dish is essential. It’s always good and is an excellent base for those who are new to dim sum. It’s important to take it to a friend. The sticky rice is extremely filling.

Taro Puffs Taro is a starchy plant that is very popular in Asian food preparation. It is recommended to take a bite of a taro puff for the most delicious and satisfying experience. These puffs that are deep-fried come with a crisp shell that is filled with a sweet but tasty cloud of pork mince and taro.

Pot-sticker Dumplings These dumplings of pork have thicker skin than others. So, they’re fried to perfection and are characterized by some slight charcoal-like exterior. With green onion and minced pork Make sure you try it with white wine vinegar in order to help break up the sweetness.

Turnip Cake

A favorite of mine, turnip cakes are made of rice flour and chopped turnips combined with Chinese sausages, cut into squares, and then seared. It’s the perfect mix and is a delicious, easy dessert for any dim sum dinner. Try the dish with mustard, hot!

Spare Ribs

Spare ribs are a usual element in dim sum, typically cooked with a hint of bell pepper and black bean. They are delicious and bite-sized, and an ideal choice for those who aren’t confident about eating chicken feet!

Hot BBQ Pork Buns The white clouds are filled with flavor. They are packed with delicious BBQ pork. You won’t require any soy sauce to enjoy this one. Peel off the base of the paper and sink your teeth into the soft exterior.

Noodle Rolls Savoury, slippery noodle rolls are a staple of dim sum. They’re usually filled with seafood or BBQ pork. They can be tricky to grab with chopsticks, therefore, don’t hesitate to place your bowl next to your mouth. They’ll come with a sweet, soy sauce that’s poured over them after serving which means they don’t require any additional ingredients.

Soup Dumplings The most exquisite dumplings to have been created, soup dumplings are a delicious and unique delicious delicacy. Take care when eating them: savor part of the dumpling’s top. Then, take into the hot broth, and then drink the remainder of the dumpling. It’s a blast of tender meat that is perfectly packed.

Egg Tarts Egg tarts are quite tasty, with a crisp yet firm crust, encasing an incredibly sweet and rich custard. It’s the perfect way to round your food!

Sesame Balls A soft rice flour ball that has red or black bean paste in the middle and coated with sesame seeds, and deep-fried. Just delightful.

We hope that you find this guide useful in your quest for dim sum. If you want to experience a truly delicious dining experience make sure you take the time to look over the rest of our Singapore experiences that include dim sum as an element of the experience! Our local experts at the destination are always willing to provide suggestions and provide tips on the most popular places to have dim sum.

#Dim Sum Haus #yum cha dim sum #red star dim sum

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missluckycharms · 3 years

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You, Me and Harry make three. Part Two.

Summary: Joey, Izzy and Harry are in a poly relationship. They're head over heels for one another and they can't seem to keep their hands off each another, even when they really need to.

Harry is the Harry Styles, the man who is known for being so open and lovable. He's nervous to let the world see his girls, what would his fans think If he was dating two girls at the same time? And they all shared the one bed and home? He doesn't want to know, he wants them all to himself.

This small story follows the three and their rendezvous together behind the scenes.

Masterlist.

Part One.

Warnings: Switch!Harry, Mommy kink, slight Daddy kink, FxFxM threesome, fingering, oral sex f+m receiving, Male + Female penetrative sex, Female + Female sex, spanking, choking, hair pulling, sneaking around (?) masturbation and mentions of it, degradation kink, praise kink, dirty talking, anal play, biting, polyamorous relationship.

A/N: Izzy and Joey are OCs! Their features will be discussed in this, if you don’t want to envision them how I write them, feel free to use your own images of them! I hope you’ve enjoyed them as much as I have! Harry Joey and Izzy are now my new babies, and I will protect them with my whole heart 🥺

Word count: 5.3k.

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"This place is amazing!"

"If singing on stage gives you this, sign me up for your supporting act H!"

Harry smiles and laughs watching his girls, the pair in awe running about the Italian villa he owns, hidden away amongst shrubbery and gated security, no one only Harry and his team know about this villa, it's a very secret location that Harry has done all he can to not let people find this place. It's not as grand as you would think it would be, a millionaire rockstar having a smallish Italian villa decorated mainly in old vintage Italian furniture, is not something you would hear of very often, most singers would have penthouses with the latest technology and fast cars in the driveway — not Harry, he would take this small secluded villa with a vintage convertible in the driveway over a multi million dollar penthouse with a Lamborghini in the front.

"Recognise the decor?" He asks as they both walk back in, their sunglasses pushed up into their hairs and their summer dresses flowing above their knees, their smiles bright and their arms linked as they look at Harry before them.

"No way! It's the theme we suggested for this place! Look Iz, it's the painting you suggested we buy in the art gallery last time we went to France!"

Joey says tugging Izzys arm and pointing at a large painting on the wall behind the dining table, the silhouette of a woman laying on a sofa with fabric draped over her, the sofa situated on a balcony as the sunset casts down onto her making her dark against the painting, the sunset the main focus as the arch of the balcony door in the golden hues of the sunset seeping in around the room. Harry fell in love with it in the gallery the last time they all took a trip there, Izzy grabbing his hand and pulling him towards where it was being showcased as Joey chatted to the artist about another piece that caught her eye. Harry loved the way Izzy was in awe over this work of art, he knew instantly he needed it somewhere personal and private for them all, he knew this villa he was had being done up would be the perfect place for the painting.

It was all perfect, and Harry loved it.

"I think she looks like Jo, that's why I loved it. See? The curves and the way she's laid out — confident and beautiful, it's our Jo!" Izzy says sweetly, causing Joey to kiss her head and nod for Harry to join them, the three of them all hugging and looking up at the painting, Izzy squished in the middle as Joey and Harry hold onto her with love.

"I think, we should have a wine and pasta night — right way to start our vacation, mmh?" Harry asks kissing the two girls heads, the pair looking at him with all the adoration in the world, his white goggle glasses pushed into his curly hair, his long sleeve white and navy shirt on his torso along with linen white trousers on his legs accompanied by scruffy vans with pink laces on his feet, he looked like art — if they could, they would chose him as the painting for the wall.

"Are you cooking it? Mister pasta chef?" Joey asks teasing him by brushing her nose off his, the pair close to one another as Izzy rests her head on Joey's arm looking at Harry and Joey tease one another with little kisses and lip bites filled with small laughs and breathy moans.

"I'll try my best, how about you two clean up? You both must be worn out and sweaty from our trip here" he says with a wink, kissing the two girls before disappearing off into the kitchen, a near skip in his step as he smiles heading to make dinner for him and his girls.

"I think he was jealous of our bathroom trip" Joey says as Izzy laughs blushing a little, Joey wrapping her arm around her shoulder and kissing her forehead many times as they walk and laugh towards their bedroom, the bathroom awaiting them — much like the bathroom in Harry's private jet did.

As the girls fill up the bathtub, giggles and lavender filled bubbles kissing their skin as they share time together, soft innocent touches and jokes passed back and forth as they washed one another and kissed showing affection amongst many small cuddle sessions that always ended up with Izzy plastering lavender bubbles on Joey's face when she closed her eyes to relax, Joey retaliating with splashing water at Izzy as she fights back, their laughs echoing around the villa as Harry smiles to himself, his music playing not being loud enough to block out their laughs.

The kitchen is dimly lit, candles filled the space as his record player spins an old Fleetwood Mac vinyl of his, the sunset casting a slight hue through the back doors of the villa, the curtains framing the glass doors blowing slightly in the summer breeze of Italy. Harry is humming while stirring the pasta, his body filled with warmth and excitement as he prepares the meal, sauce in a pan while he cooks the pasta, flour on his apron from when he tried to make pasta from scratch from a recipe book he bought the last time he was here alone, this is the first time he's brought his girls here — it's safe to say, he'll never come here alone again, it's meant to be filled with laughs and the smell of pasta cooking while Fleetwood Mac dances around the aroma scented villa, Harry knows he can never come here alone again.

He would never want to come here alone again.

"Is that meatballs I smell?" Izzy says skipping out into the kitchen, her hair damp and Harry's black vintage Pink Floyd on her body, a pair of his boxers on her legs as shorts as she nearly dances into Harrys arms as he holds them out, turning them both so they're facing the stove, his hand stirring the sauce and meatballs with a wooden spoon as Izzy cuddles into him.

"Here, take a taste — we all know you're the meatball connoisseur" Harry laughs, holding up half a meatball covered in tomato sauce filled with herbs and spices he found. She leans forward and wraps her lips around the end of the spoon, her tongue lapping up all the sauce along with the meat as she pulls away looking at him with furrowed brows as she tastes it, swishing it about and gathering up all the flavours he's added in.

"Good?" He asks nervously, her silence deafening as she smiles, leaning over to lick the remainders off the spoon while holding eye contact with him.

"Your sauce always tastes nice, H" she says kissing his neck, holding eye contact with him as she spins around and heads back towards the bedroom, his mouth slightly open as he watches her leave, her small frame disappearing as he gulps while turning his attention back to the food.

"How's our boy getting on?" Joey asks brushing through her hair, Izzy watching her in awe sitting behind her on the bed, Joey's eyes on her in the mirror as she sits at the vanity smiling at her.

"Dancing to Stevie and making dinner, he's okay" she giggles as Joey smiles, leaving down her hairbrush and joining Izzy on their bed, another one of Harry's t shirts on her body also, a white Rolling Stones t shirt, small holes in the neck and hem of the shirt from how long Harry has owned it and wore it. Harry is obsessed with seeing them in his clothes, always telling them to wear his shirts around the house when they're all alone — he loves seeing them wrapped in his things, claiming them as his and only his.

"We should feel bad for letting him cook alone" Joey says leaning over Izzy, straddling her waist as her chin knocks against their forehead gently to signal for her to lay down, her brown damp hair fanning around her head as Joey rests above her, smiling down softly at her as they bask in one another's presence in the warm golden hue of the lamps on the bed side tables.

"He insisted, he loves to cook" Izzy says sighing when Joey connects their lips, Izzys hands coming up to cup her face as Joey holds onto her thigh with one hand and cradling her head with the other, her nails scratching at her scalp as Izzys thighs lock around Joey's waist and holding her against her more as they kiss slowly and passionately, the pair smiling and worshiping one another as they listen to Harry softy sing in the kitchen cooking them all dinner.

They're all in bliss, their safe haven being their only escape from the world and the only time they can all be alone and show one another how much they care for each other. Sure they have their alone times in hotel rooms and back stage, but it's nothing like being locked away in a villa in a country that isn't demanding Harry to be on talk shows and random small interviews here and there, it's a place where they can just relax and not care about the beady eyes of the public and Jeff banging down the doors demanding Harry being at a certain place. This is the second vacation all three have spend together, the first being in Spain and now they're here, they've all preferred secluded small villas to grand luxurious hotel suites looking over the whole City of Venice.

The small villa with two gardens filled with flowers, trees and a small patch where Harry said he would one day grow his own vegetables if he gets to stay here that long, he wants to grow his own food to be able to make authentic dishes for his pasta loving girlfriends — this villa is enough for him, and he would never want to have a luxurious life filled with money and expensive clothes and furniture that probably would break if you touched it, Harry doesn't want that — he wants a vintage decorated villa, filled with flowers out front while Stevie sings around the building on vinyl as his girls laugh, almost in tune with every song as he cooks and treats them like he wants to, treat them like his lovers — and one day, like his wives.

"Came to get you two for dinner, but looks like you're getting to dessert without me" Harry says from the doorframe, his body leaned on it as he stands with his flour covered apron, a smile on his lips as the girls pause and look at him, Joey nearly between Izzys thighs as they laugh and blush looking at him.

"Come on, dinners served Madams!" Harry jokes leading them both to where he's set up, the back garden is filled with fairy lights, the bushes and trees decorated in the small lights as the table sits in a small patch of grass amongst all the high bushes and trees, shielding them from any prying eyes that could be near by.

"I think we're underdressed for this" Joey says looking at hers and Izzys current states, the pair only wearing Harrys t shirts and his boxers as shorts, Harry beside them with a stained apron and his clothes from this morning when they flew over.

"Who says? Tonight, I actually decided the theme is half naked and drunk on Italian wine" he shrugs leading them to their chairs, the girls smiling and laughing as the places one kiss to their lips each, their smiles never fading as Harry excuses himself, leaving his girls under the fairy lights as they look around in awe at the garden.

He soon strides out, only in his long sleeve shirt and boxers, dishes in his hands filled with their meal as the pair laugh and cheer in excitement and also whistling for their boyfriend who's half naked dishing them their dinner, his confidence sky rocketing as his girls take him in, complementing him and his food as he passes out a plate to them, leaving one at his place at the table as he wanders back inside, Izzy shouting about how his bum looks while Joey laughs about how "biteable his British bum looks" Harry will never get tired of her saying that to him.

Their dinner is filled with laughs, complements thrown at Harry for his cooking and wine filled jokes and stories about their times together, Izzy acting out how Harry first reacted to Joey using a strap on, on him and Joey acting out how Harry drunkenly tried to sing for the two, half naked and using a shampoo bottle as a mic as the pair sat half asleep in the bed, their boyfriend after waking them up by belting a mashup of any song he could think of at three in the morning in their hotel room — it's safe to say it's one of their favourite memories together even if Harry only half remembers it.

Their tipsy jokes and random touches has lead them to their bedroom, Harry tied up to the headboard as Joey straddles Izzy at the end of the bed, the pair putting on a show as Harry whines and rattles his hands against the handcuffs to try and break free to touch them, his underwear suffocating his erection as he watches the girls fully naked touching and kissing one another, clearly getting off on how Harry is reacting to watching them, his body covered in sweat as he whines and curses into the air.

"You can whine all you want baby boy, but you're ours tonight, you do as you're told, got it?" Joey says as she pants slightly, Izzy suckling on her nipples and kissing her breasts as Joey speaks to Harry, her eyes on him as he bites his lip and nods obsessively at her.

"Yes, yes I'll do as I'm told" he says as Joey smiles, grasping Izzys hair in her fingers and pressing her face closer to her breasts as she keeps her eyes on Harry, knowing it drives him wild when she does this.

"Yes who?" She says as Izzy reacts to this also, her small whines coming out in tune with Harrys as they both curse and look at Joey with glassy eyes and their full attention on her.

"Yes, mommy" Harry says slowly, his head foggy and only focused on Joey and Izzy, his body feels like jelly as he smiles lazily and bites his lip watching his girls please one another in front of him.

"Good boy" she hums out, taking Izzy off her breasts lightly and laying her down on her back, her eyes on the small girl as she smiles in response, her bottom lip between her teeth as Joey lowers herself, kissing her body as she goes lower and lower towards where Izzy needs her most.

Harry is whining and tugging against the handcuffs as Joey eats Izzy out, Izzys own moans coming out and mixing in the air with Harrys as Joey feeds off their reactions, Izzy falling apart on her tongue as Harry falls apart only by looking at them, he's pretty sure he could cum just by looking at them — it's happened before, both girls ended up loving it and he ended up loving being humiliated by the pair as he whined into their mouths with his underwear filled with his own cum in the back of a limo on their way home from an event, the windows tinted but they all love the thrill of being found out as they're all on top of one another in a limo.

"Look at him Iz, getting hard by looking at you getting your pretty cunt ate" Joey says pulling away to slip her fingers into Izzys cunt, coaxing her towards her second orgasm of the night as Izzy moans and squirms about on the bed, much like Harry is at the top of the bed, his arms clattering in the metal against the headboard as Joey holds eye contact with him as she dips back down to suck at Izzys clit.

"Please, let me touch you both, mommy please" he whines as Izzy moans out loudly, her second high washing over her as Joey licks and laps up her release with a smile kissing her thighs as she rides her through her high, the pair glistening in sweat as they pleasure one another before their boyfriend who's about to fall apart watching it all.

"Mommy, Haz wants go touch himself" Izzy speaks up, Joey worshipping her body as Izzy looks at Harry clenching his own thighs together, trying anything to get some relief as he's restrained to the headboard.

"Should we let him? Let him touch his cock and watch us have some fun?" Joey says looking at Izzy who's pleading for Harry, needing to see him touch himself as Joey smiles at her.

"Alright baby girl, you let Haz out and I'll get our special toy we love, okay?" She instructs Izzy who's crawling towards a frustrated Harry who's covered in sweat and needing someone to touch him. She lets him free with the click of a key in the lock of the cuffs, Joey grabbing hers and Izzys favourite toy from their toy bag they bring with them everywhere — it's a double sided blue dildo, Harry loves it when they use it before him, they even face time him and use it while he's away on his own, his hand tugging at his cock as he watches them through a screen falling apart on their favourite toy.

Harry is loving it, watching them now in person, holding onto one another as they use the dildo together, their clits brushing off one another's as they move along the toy, Harry being instructed to touch himself but not to cum, Joey insisting that he be edged until she can finally fuck him. The girls are whining and moaning as they brush up against one another as they move, one of Joey's legs up on Izzys shoulders as both of Izzys legs hug Joey's waist while Joey's other leg rests around Izzys back holding her up against her body a little, preventing her from falling down in pleasure.

"Look so good, gonna cum all over myself just by looking at you both" Harry moans out, his hand lazily stroking his cock as Joey laughs while biting her lip looking at him, Izzy moaning away as Joey holds onto her, rocking their lips back and forth as they please one another.

"Yeah? You gonna cum all over yourself like you did that night in the limo? Poor baby couldn't even hold it in, came just by watching his girls make out" Joey teases him as Harry whines at her words, loving how she humiliates him yet again, his hand squeezing his cock to prevent himself from cumming just by listening to the words falling from her swollen plumped up lips.

Both Izzy and Joey fall apart on the toy, Harry nearly cumming along with them but when he earns a slap to his thigh by Joey he soon collects himself and tries to hold it off in the hopes that he gets some action too, the curly haired man coated in sweat biting his tongue to hold off on saying the wrong thing that could lead to him going to sleep hard and frustrated while his girls sleep peacefully around him, content and satisfied.

"Think he deserves to have his ass played with Iz? Think he deserves to have Mommy's tongue in his hole?" Joey asks as Izzy smiles lazily at her, the pair now kissing and laying beside one another on the bed as Harry watches them with pleading eyes.

"Yes mommy, he's been a good boy for you, want to watch you eat his hole" Izzy sighs out as Joey kisses her hard before slapping her Sensitive cunt with a laugh earning her a squeal and laugh from Izzy in return as she scurries up beside Harry, Joey watching as Harry whines into Izzys mouth as they kiss desperately.

"Good girl, giving Harry your pretty lips" Joey hums sitting in front of the pair, leaning over to brush Izzys hair out of the way as her and Harry whine into one another's mouths, tongues and teeth clashing as Joey observes them with a smile over how submissive the two of them are for her.

"Been such a good boy H, think you deserve my mouth. On your knees, and put that pretty ass up in the air" Joey instructs him, Izzy breaking away from him as he jumps into position, his head against the sheets as Izzy sits in front of him, brushing the curls from his face and littering small kisses all over him as Joey slaps his ass a few times to rile him up even more.

"Such a pretty hole. Desperate for it aren't ya baby boy? Clenching around nothing" Joey hums out as she runs her thumb over his hole, hearing his whines against the sheets as Izzy smiles and cooes at him while Joey bends down, running her tongue over his hole as he clutches onto the bed sheets.

"Doing so good mommy, Haz is tearing up over your tongue. Does it feel good?" She says to Joey and then looking down at Harry who now has his head in her lap, his cheek against her thigh as she runs her thumb over his cheeks soothing him as he desperately squirms under Joey's touch as she licks into his hole behind him.

"Feels s'good, fucking hell" he moans out loudly when Joey finally slips her fingers into him, the bottle of lube being discarded onto the bed beside them as Harry holds onto Izzys thighs while burying his head in her thighs also, moaning loudly from the pleasure as Izzy holds onto him, making eye contact with Joey every now and then as she happily licks and fingers Harry's hole just how he likes it.

"That's it baby, take mommy's fingers" Joey moans out watching as Harrys hole takes her fingers like nothing, his moans loud as she curls them up and hits off his prostate which sends him into a frenzy, his cock hard and leaking between his legs as he fights off his orgasm like Joey is demanding him to do, his thighs being slapped everytime she knows he's close to letting go.

"He needs to cum so badly mommy, can he cum?" Izzy asks Joey innocently, her eyes glassy and her lips swollen from biting down on them watching Harry fall apart as he rests his head on her thighs, his eyes looking up into hers as he silently pleads with her to ask can he cum.

"He's not cumming until Mommy puts her special cock into his hungry hole" Joey says through gritted teeth as she moans out watching as Harry squirms and moans for her, pleading with her to let him cum as they all look desperately at one another.

"Gonna go and get our special toy baby, Izzy keep our boy company" Joey instructs as Izzy bends down to engage in hers and Harrys own quiet conversation, small laughs and whispers heard amongst kisses as Joey smiles fondly, gathering up her strap on and pulling it up onto her as Izzy showers Harry in delicate kisses as he basks in all the attention, loving the adoration all over him.

It's only a few more minutes before Harry is losing his mind on the bed, his hands clutching onto Izzys thighs as she rubs his back and runs her fingers through her hair, Joey behind Harry pounding into him with her strap on as she praises him to no end, Harry loving the praise and attention as he gets ruined by his two girls.

"You love this, don't you? Getting fucked in the ass, wonder what your fans would think if they knew this, Harry Styles begging to be fucked in the ass and desperate to cum" Joey says which causes Harry to moan out loudly, Joey's hand joining izzys in his hair as she pulls on his hair erupting a growl from his chest at the feeling.

"Bet they'd all go crazy knowing you love to call me Mommy also, they'd love to know how fucking desperate to cum you get and how needy you are for a cock up your ass" Izzy moans at Joey's words also, the pair getting off at her words as she gives it her all, her hips snapping up against Harrys as his cock rests on the sheets rubbing off the soft cotton with each thrust of her hips.

"They'd also love how he likes to be called daddy, right mommy?" Izzy joins in on Harrys humiliation, his lazy smile up at Izzy as she joins in, almost proud of her as Joey holds the same smile, their quiet girl being vocal in bed is something they love, they know how hard it is for her to be like this, so when a few filthy words slip from her lips they both beam at her like she just learned how to talk for the first time.

"That's right Iz, they'd go crazy if they knew what a whore our baby boy is in bed, how kinky he really is and how much he loves to be man handled by his girls" Joey says as Izzy beams happily at her, the girl proud of herself for making them both smile and for speaking out loud in bed, especially when her words earned her a moan from Harry that sent shivers up her spine over how desperate he sounded.

"M'gonna cum, harder mommy please!" He begs out as Joey pounds into him harder, Izzy immediately reaching under his hips to grab his cock as Harry catches her nipple in his mouth, her breasts in his face as she strokes his cock, his moans vibrating through Izzy as Joey moans watching them both moan at one another at the head of the bed.

Joey's hands dig harder into Harrys waist, his ass jiggling as she pounds into him from behind, his body coated in sweat as her red hand prints are clearly visible on his cheeks from earlier, his body shaking as he nears his high, toes curling against the sheets as Joey doesn't stop moving, her own body coated in sweat as she puts power behind her thrusts to get their boyfriend to cum, every thrust she sends into him causing the dildo to brush against his prostate sending him into a frenzy.

"Pump him harder Iz, he's almost there, aren't you baby boy? Gonna cum all over Izzys hand and the sheets, yeah?" Joey asks as Harry moans out with a nod, his hands desperately gripping onto Izzys thighs and his mouth sucking her nipple as Izzy moans out at the feeling, stroking his cock faster and harder, Harrys hand rutting against her hand and the sheets.

"Fucking him so good mommy, come on Haz, cum for me and mommy" Izzy spits out as she moans at the feeling of Harry sucking on her nipples, Harry finally letting go at the sound of her dirty talking, it's not expected from her but when she doesn't spit out a few curses or dirty words it sends him and Joey over the edge, their innocent girlfriend talking dirty is something they never knew could make them crumble so quickly.

"Thank you mommy, thank you, thank you" he slurs out when Joey pulls out, his head of curls resting on Izzys thighs as she pulls the curls from his sweaty forehead, her fingers separating each curl from being matted together with sweat as Joey cleans off the dildo and runs to get a wash cloth to clean him up — Harry having his own washcloth, a light blue one, Izzy having a lilac one while Joey has a dark purple one, each one of them having their own colours.

"I know bub, just bare with me, just need to clean you up" Joey cooes out while wiping his hole and cock, Harry hissing and groaning over how sensitive he is right now, his lips kissing small kisses over Izzys thighs as Joey smiles at their small interaction.

"Did so good for us H, need to come back to me now yeah?" Joey says as Izzy kisses his face to try and coax him out of his sub space, his eyes hooded and tear filled as Izzy tries to help him come back.

"Mommy, thank you" he slurs out which causes Joey to throw his washcloth into the laundry hamper and crawl up beside him and wrap her arm around his back, flipping him over so he's half laying on each of their laps as they look down at him.

"No H, it's Joey now, come back to me, come back to Joey baby" she says soothing him quietly, his eyes falling closed before his mind finally clears of the fog that filled it, his smile wide in his blissed out state as he begins to come back.

"M'back now" he mumbles out as the two girls laugh a little, kissing him as he smiles lazily wrapping his arms around their thighs as they rest against the headboard with Harry in their laps.

"Think it's time for a bath. H, you follow Izzy and she'll get the bath ready while I clean up in here, okay?" Joey says instructing them all once again, the pair disappearing into the bathroom, Harry having to be held up by Izzy which was comical to watch, her small frame trying to keep his tall one up as her head rests on his bicep trying to guide him.

Their small conversation and laughs are heard from the bathroom, the water running and the smell of Harry's favourite lavender bath salts filling their noses as Joey pulls of the messy sheets, pulling on some new ones and quickly joining her babies in the bathroom, the pair now in the bath and splashing one another with water, Izzy resting against Harrys chest between his legs as they leave a space in front of her for where Joey usually sits, Izzy usually being sandwiched between the two as they all relax together.

"Room for one more?" Joey asks which causes them all to smile, remembering how she said those exact words when she saw Izzy and Harry making out across the room in the club two years ago, from then on, they never once regretted saying ...

"Always room for one more"

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles smut #dom!harry #harry styles au #harry styles one shot #smut #sub!harry #harry styles fandom #harry styles x oc #harry styles fanfiction #fan fic author #fan fic stuff #fan fic prompts #fan fiction #daddy!harry #subrry

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wri0thesley · 3 years

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Hey Nat, I'm kinda blaming you for my budding infatuation with Nanami and I was wondering if I may request Nanami and his s/o having their first kiss? It doesn't have to be long but I'm just feeling soft and with the way you write him it sounds like a treat once this reserved, professional man finally allows himself to give in

oh anon i am so... so very soft.... you cannot blame me for the nanami desire. he is simply irresistible.

date night - nanami x reader (3k)

you’re nervous about your first date with nanami.

warnings: none. fluffy, soft. neutral reader, some mentions of food and alcohol.

You cannot help but be nervous about tonight.

Your friends have made fun of you, talking about your hot date – Gojo thumping you on the back, Shoko looking at you with her tired eyes but a smirk on her face. Neither of them really get it, you don’t think – to them, Nanami is their former junior who is just a little too serious for his own good. A gloomy, stoic presence who they trust implicitly due to the good head on his shoulders, but who they do not really see as ‘a potential romantic match’. They know that you’ve been harbouring a crush on the former salaryman for months, and they’ve already tried to warn you off him.

“He can be so boring,” Gojo had said, swinging an arm around your shoulders. “Let me set you up with someone instead!”

Your face had heated up at the idea that Gojo didn’t trust you to make your own romantic decisions, but he was already halfway through listing the name of every eligible bachelor he knew (and a few who he said ‘weren’t eligible, but they probably could be, for you!’). You’d been able to do nothing but listen politely as you’d walked with him to his classroom, occasionally gathering strange looks from the students that were milling around in the corridors.

“Think about it!” He’d cried to you as he’d stepped into his bare classroom (you hardly ever see him doing any actual classwork in there; mainly, you see him lying on top of desks and making fun of his students) and greeted the three first years waiting for him. “You don’t wanna be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life!”

You hope his students don’t hear him, as you decide to go for a walk outside to clear your head.

You and Nanami have been dancing around the idea of maybe possibly being something more than friends for weeks. You’ve felt it, in the brush of his hand against yours, the way that his eyes seem to soften and his tiredness seems to lift when you’re near him. You’ve felt it, as you’ve passed him a cup of coffee and he’s relished the warmth emanating from the cup. In the soft way he speaks to you.

You’ve felt it when he’s held your hand as the two of you have walked together, not saying anything. In his scarf wrapped around your neck, smelling like him.

What you haven’t done, is go on a date.

And perhaps this isn’t a date the way you’d once have dreamed about it. You’re going over to Nanami’s place; he’s going to cook a meal for you, the two of you are going to catch up after he’s been gone on a mission for almost a week - the two of you are going to watch a foreign film he’s been able to get hold of, that you’ve been saving to watch with one another. You’re going to perhaps have a glass of wine together, or two--

You kind of do want to be stuck ironing Nanami’s socks for the rest of your life.

It sounds so silly when you say it aloud! You haven’t even kissed him, just brushed fingers and held hands and saved each other’s lives whilst on exorcisms together. But whenever you close your eyes and imagine your future, Nanami is always there, right beside you.

You breathe in deeply. You have to ignore what Gojo and Shoko and everyone have been saying. They’ve known Nanami for longer than you – they were his upperclassmen, after all, and you suppose it’s traditional to make fun of and quash your younger classmates a little. You just need to think about what you want, and what Nanami himself may want. Plucking uselessly at your clothes, nerves fizzing in your stomach, you elect to ignore the anxiety gnawing at you until you’re at least outside of Nanami’s front door.

Then, you tell yourself, then, I’ll allow myself to panic a little bit. Seeing Nanami’s calm, handsome face always calms me down. The minute he answers the door, I’ll forget that I was even nervous, and everything will be just as it should.

It doesn’t stop you worrying, as you get dressed and try and fluff your hair and rearrange all of your accessories whilst you get ready. It’s just an evening at his house, you try and keep telling yourself. He’s not expecting me to show up like a runway model, he’d probably hate that anyway--

Still. Having a crush on somebody is never easy, and Nanami can be so utterly unreadable at times, that you get dressed and undressed twice more before you settle on something in between casual and formal; that looks like you’ve made an effort, without looking like you agonised for hours to figure out what the level of effort should be. You’re clutching a bottle of wine and standing outside of his door three minutes early, wondering if he’s the kind of man who gets annoyed if you are there too early.

The door swings open, and Nanami is there, leaning on the door frame. He’s breathtakingly handsome, in casual clothes – an expensive looking sweater in soft grey that gives just a peek at the column of his throat, cuffed jeans. You’ve never seen him look so . . . relaxed. And the fact that he’s looking at you, his lips barely tilting, his tired eyes just a little turned up at the corners.

“You look nice,” he tells you, and you thank God that you went with this outfit. You hold out the bottle of wine for him, and his smile breaks wider as he looks at it. “You didn’t need to bring me anything, you know. I’m happy to be the provider this evening.”

“It’s-- it’s polite!” You insist, and Nanami steps aside to allow you into his house. He’s very proper, and you’d wanted to impress him – you think the young lady who had served you in the specialist store you’d anxiously entered had sensed your worry, and had been very kind as she’d picked something for you she was certain you’d like.

“You made a good choice,” he tells you, as he invites you into his hallway and you gratefully pull off your shoes. “This one looks fine--”

“I didn’t really choose it,” you admit. “I let the experts do it.”

He laughs, the sound like an early spring morning. You don’t think anybody else hears him laugh like that, and the comfort that the two of you share makes you feel soft and warm.

“Even more admirable, then,” he says. “Most people we know would just barrel in guns blazing and insist they knew the right way to do things.”

You both share a secretive smile, your cheeks warming. You can feel tension draining out of you the longer you spend in Nanami’s company. Something about him just sets you at ease.

When you’d first met him, you’d been frightened of him. He seemed so gloomy and intense, so utterly focussed on his goals – when you had tried to speak to him, he had brushed you off with short one word answers and you’d caught him looking at you when your back was turned as if he was waiting for you to slip up.

But as time had worn on . . . as time had worn on, Nanami’s edges had softened. You’d realised that he was willing to talk, when the participant had proved themselves to be worth talking to. He’d told you once, shrugging, that most jujutsu sorcerers just tended to be . . . odd.

“Not you, though,” he’d said, and your heart had leapt in your chest. “Well. You’re not odd in any way that isn’t charming.”

He’s not usually the kind of man who heaps praise on other people; that little compliment, you had carried with you like a flame in your heart. The first time he had held your hand, he hadn’t said anything. The first time he had walked you home, and met you for coffee in a morning a half hour before you were due to be at the scene of an exorcism; Nanami Kento shows that he cares about you in a hundred different little ways that aren’t as simple as telling you it out and out. You admire that about him. You’re so used to putting your foot in your mouth.

“Come sit at the table,” he says, and you follow him obediently. His house is tastefully decorated, somewhere between modern and traditional; he has shelves of books everywhere, and that makes you smile. You’ve heard him say, sighing; “When I’m done with all this, I’ll finally have time to get around to reading them.” The shelf in the very corner of the dining area is the only one that looks well-thumbed; even from here, you can see that it’s where he keeps his recipe books.

“I hope you’ll like it,” you settle into the chair that he pulls out for you. He moves into the kitchen with purpose, grabbing serving dishes and utensils and juggling them with a precision that makes you admire him all the more. “I’m very glad you were on time. It’s the kind of dish that needs to be eaten at the exact right moment.”

He whips the cover off the main dish.

You knew that Nanami was a foodie. His instagram is full of pictures of various places and treats he’s eaten – with a particular focus on adorable baked goods, especially bread, that had made you feel warm inside when you’d noticed. Still, the spread that he’s laid out before you would not look out of place in the most high-class of restaurants; the kind that you’d never had the money to afford to eat in, and you’d have been afraid of showing yourself up at the tables of. You stare at it, mesmerised; the vegetables, so bright and colourful and steaming, lovingly presented – the glaze of the meats, the bowls full of side-dishes that you can’t quite recognise.

There’s an anxiety in his face when he looks at you.

“Sorry,” he says, quietly. “I think I probably over-estimated. And over-compensated, I suppose, for not taking you out to a restaurant--”

“No,” you say, quickly. “It looks delicious. I’m glad you invited me. It’s just . . . a lot.”

“Yes,” his eyes rove over the table. “There are only two of us.”

“It’ll make good left-overs,” you suggest, and he brightens.

“That should have been my line,” he tells you as he retrieves the wine you’d brought. You can see that there was already a bottle chilling in a bucket by the table, but Nanami’s face is affectionate as he pops the cork and pours some into the wine glass by your plate. “I’m supposed to be the responsible one.”

“Sorry for stealing your thunder,” you take a sip of the wine.

“Just as long as you don’t make a habit of it.”

The food really is delicious. You could easily have had seconds, or even thirds – on an ordinary day. A day in which your stomach isn’t churning from how alone the two of you are. There’s a buzz in the air that isn’t quite tension; more, it’s a promise that there’s more yet to come. You and Nanami laugh over dinner, the conversation surprisingly easy when the knot in your insides is so tight. He talks about his old job, and you talk about your own adventures before you’d ended up in Tokyo – he smiles, and laughs, more than you’ve ever seen him do.

He seems so much more at home here. That’s silly, considering it is his home – but somehow, there’d always been an image of Nanami in your head as serious and unforgiving with his tie very tight and his suits perfectly pressed even when he was relaxing in his own rooms.

That image is quickly wiped away, by the way he looks as he rolls up the sleeves of his sweater to take the dishes away.

“Let me help you wash up,” you try and say, but he waves you away.

“I’ll leave them for after you’ve gone,” he says. “I’m not going to ask a guest to do that. Or maybe I’ll even be bold; leave them for in the morning.” His smile makes you feel weak at the knees, this time – a spot of pink high on those sharp cheekbones. Is he blushing, or has his face gone rosy from the wine?

The two of you migrate into the living room. His television is large, but not ostentatiously so; a row of DVDs are neatly in the cabinet beneath it, mainly drama films, period films and some foreign prestige box sets. The movie the two of you have been talking about is one of those – a Danish film about an ageing detective who takes on one last case. You had originally planned to see it together, when it made it to Tokyo cinemas; but one thing had lead to another, and before you could both get the schedules to work out it had gone.

He places the DVD into the player and you can’t help but stare at him; how the soft material of the sweater clings to his broad shoulders, how the jeans seem to emphasise his ass – he’s always in slacks, you’ve never really had the chance to ogle it before, but seeing it in front of you now you suddenly understand why he keeps it covered. Who knows what riots it might incite, if it were just out and about for anyone to see?

“You’re staring,” Nanami turns his head slightly, catching your eye. Heat rushes to your face – but he keeps your eyes pinned with his own for a moment, before deliberately dragging them down the length of you, sat on the sofa. You feel hot and warm and bothered by the way he smiles afterwards, as if he is saying that he likes what he’s seeing too. “You don’t need to be sneaky about it. I don’t mind.”

You swallow, your throat suddenly going very dry. Nanami moves across the room, sitting on the sofa beside you. Heat seems to be radiating off of him; there’s a comfort in having him next to you.

“You look uncomfortable,” he says, five minutes into the movie. He leans back, an arm coming to rest on the back of the sofa behind you. “You can lean on me, you know. I don’t mind.”

He looks inviting. His head is tipped to one side as he meets your eyes; there’s no challenge in his. Just a softness. A quiet affection. Perhaps a touch of nervousness – of trepidation, that you’ll refuse the offer. You hesitantly sidle closer, leaning your head against his side. His scent wraps around you; freshly cleaned laundry, peppermint, coffee, spices, some of the wine from earlier--

You fair go dizzy at it all, but not as dizzy as you go when the arm on the back of the sofa wraps around you, his fingers resting on your shoulder. How are you supposed to concentrate on anything, with him so close to you? With everything about him making you feel like you’re on a roller-coaster climbing upwards and upwards, hurtling towards the inevitable?

You try – oh, you really do try – to keep your eyes on the film and the subtitles scrolling across the bottom of the television. But the aged detective is not half as interesting as Nanami; as the way he focusses on the screen, as his face bathed in the light. As his hand, as it gently starts to stroke over your shoulder, as if he’s barely aware he’s doing it. As his tongue, as it darts out to nervously lick at his lips.

“You’re staring at me,” he says, and you flinch that he’s noticed. His head turns, pinning you with the full force of his gaze. “Are you not enjoying it? We can turn it off?”

How do you answer that?

The real answer: ‘I’m not enjoying it because I can’t concentrate on anything other than you, and how badly I want to be brave enough to kiss you’, feels too bare and bold. You bite your lip.

Nanami leans in closer to you, so close that you can see the flush on his cheeks. The slightly ruffled hairs falling over his forehead. You can count his eyelashes, almost--

“I’m not sure what’s going on either,” he admits, softly. “And I can speak Danish.”

The arm not around your shoulders moves, resting on your waist. You can barely breathe. He’s so close to you; so gorgeous, in the light. All of that former salaryman indifference seems to have gone; he’s not cold any longer, but boiling hot. You’ve been watching it slowly strip away from him since you met him, you think, but tonight might be the first time he’s been Kento Nanami with no pretension.

Nervous about his food, even though he knows he’s an excellent cook. Blushing as he realises you’re checking him out. Almost trembling, as his hand slides up and he cups your cheek like you’re made of porcelain and he’s afraid he might drop and shatter you at any moment. You blink up at him, honey-slow, so dazed by his touch and his presence you can barely make sense of what’s happening.

“I’m going to kiss you,” Nanami says, as a warning. Even now, he seems to think you might pull away. But you cannot, you do not; you just press yourself closer into him, your voice coming out very soft and small as you whisper;

“Please do.”

He does not need to be asked twice. His lips are so soft against yours. The wine clings to them, intoxicating and heady. The hand on your cheek tips your face further up, so he can keep his mouth pressed against you so sweetly. You pull back, your heart pounding.

“Ah, I’m sorry,” he’s saying, almost immediately, nervous that you have changed your mind – but all you do is free your arms, so you can wrap them about his neck and pull him in closer, to devour him the way you’ve wanted to for months.

The movie plays on, forgotten.

#jjk x reader #nanami x reader #nanami x you #nanami kento x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #nanami fluff #writing #food for ts #alcohol for ts #Anonymous

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tomtenadia · 3 years

Text

Till food do us part - Rowaelin one shot

Good evening everyone.

I am back with a quick Rowaelin oneshot. This short fic came to me last week while I was in my hotel in Inveress getting ready to check out. Once on the train back to Aberdeen I had two hours and a half and I wrote this.

It’s a simple story and just pure undiluted Rowaelin domestic fluff. I think I had to compensate for the angst in ALB. There’s no angst, just our two lovebirds being their adorable selves.

The title is ridiculous. It took me more time to choose it than to write the whole fic. And it’s still bad. Sorry, I hate choosing titles.

Ach well, I’ll leave you to it. Enjoy.

Word count: 2.5k

Aelin was in the kitchen all alone, in front of her on the counter she had all the pots and pans she would require to prepare her meal. At one side she had her cooking book and on the opposite side she had lined up all the ingredients needed.

That was meant to be a special night and she wanted everything to be perfect. And because of that she had been nervous. She was not good at cooking like her boyfriend so for her to prepare a full meal from scratch was a monumental task. She just hoped not to burn down the house. He had been teaching her slowly, starting with very simple things but that evening, no matter what she was going to cook for him.

The plan was to prepare everything a part from the dessert which she had bought from the local bakery. Although her boyfriend was not a fan of sugary stuff, the night called for dessert.

She and Rowan had been together for five years. They worked for the same company but on different floors and departments. She was in marketing, Rowan was part of the legal team and was one of the company’s lawyers.

They had a bit of a turbulent start. They met in the cafeteria and Rowan had the bad habit of being always a bit of ahead of her in the queue and always take the last portion of the food she wanted. Far too many times she had ended up eating food she did not want because of him. She had even tried to go to lunch at a different times but the man was always there. Her own personal hell. So after a whole month of that she had decided to take matter in her own hands and slowly plan her revenge. Rowan was a creature of habit, so she spent a few weeks studying him and his routine. Aelin had learned he loved to eat alone. He had friends but the lunch hour was his time to wind down and he did not want any drama or any shop talk. That would make her plan much easier. Eventually she hatched her plan. She started swapping the content of the salt and pepper shakers or even replacing them with other stuff. Aelin had also started making his table sticky or cluttering with empty trays. He still had no idea it was her but she enjoyed watching him muttering and probably cursing whoever did that to him. She had quickly learned that the man was hard to tick off completely. She would notice some small signs of irritation but that’s all the reaction she got, so she decided it was time to go big.

And her final plan came into existence the day the cafeteria served mac and cheese and he took the last portion from her. She was fuming. If she could not have mac and cheese so wouldn’t he.

She waited for him to make his way back to his table and then she walked straight into him. Their trays smashing against each others and the food landing on his shirt. She had muttered a weak sorry and had fled with a grin on her face.

She had later found out that she had made him late for an important meeting and caught hell from his boss Lorcan.

Until one day he started to retaliate. Apparently, she had found out, he knew all long it was her messing with his meals.

And so a long series of pranks had begun between them, most of them taking place in the cafeteria since that was the place they used to share the most.

However, sometimes along the way, Aelin realised pranking him was not fun anymore and that pesky feelings had started to take root in her.

Until one day he showed up in her office with two portions of mac and cheese from Emrys and a peace offering. They had the lunch in the privacy of her office, they talked and she realised very quickly that he was quite a fascinating man. Also, she would have lied to herself if she had ignored the fact that the man was hotness incarnated. He was tall and had a healthy muscular build. He would always wear impeccable tailored suits which made his backside very prominent and more than once her eyes had wandered. He had the most beautiful pine green eyes and she adored his silver hair.

Soon she had to admit that she had a crush on him. And then some.

And when Rowan finally asked her out she could not believe her ears. The sexiest man in the company wanted to go out with her. So she said yes.

Fast forward five years and Aelin was now cooking for their fifth anniversary and as a joke she had put mac and cheese on the menu. It was their dish and their own joke as well.

Aelin had a look at the clock and realised she had half an hour tops before he came back home.

While preparing mac and cheese she took a sip from the glass of wine at her side. She had bought two bottles of Rowan’s favourite wine and she had started the celebrations a bit earlier.

In the oven in the meantime, the pork roast and the potatoes were cooking and she was busy checking the food that she almost missed the sound of the front door opening and closing.

“I am home,” shouted a happy voice.

“Kitchen.” She shouted back.

When she stood she saw him in leaning against the doorframe of the kitchen, his arms at his chest and a strange grin on his face “you are cooking?” He asked surprised, raising an eye brow in a question.

Aelin grabbed a glass of wine, took a step closer to him and gave it to him “Happy anniversary, buzzard.” And she went to him for a kiss he did not deny it to her.

“Oh, so you waited five years for your final revenge and win with food poisoning.” Still leaning against the doorframe he took a sip of wine and looked at her with a smirk.

Aelin just glared at him “I can cook.”

“Aelin, I love you, but cooking is definitely not your strongest asset.”

She waved her wooden spoon in his face “I’ll show you.”

Rowan chuckled happily and stooped for a kiss “happy anniversary, menace.”

Aelin moved another step in his direction “now go,” and she patted his chest “get changed and let me finish.”

Half an hour later the dining table was all set, with some candles on to set the romantic mood and a new bottle of win in the middle. Everything looked perfect and she was chuffed.

“This looks lovely,” his voice reached her as he re entered the room and his arms wound around her waist.

“I hope it’s good as well.” She said while pulling back from the embrace and pushing him to his seat.

“Let me help,” he offered but Aelin pushed him again.

“No, just sit down.”

Quickly she went to get the appetisers: she had prepared raw smoked salmon on oatcakes with cream cheese and chives. They had that at a party and they loved it and realised it was something easy to make and almost impossible for her to mess it up. The only thing she had to do was to assemble the ingredients in a nice display.

Rowan in the meantime poured some wine for both and made happy noises at the wine.

“Fancy,” he added, commenting on the appetiser.

“Easy mostly. I took inspiration from the last party we went to.”

Rowan took one of the oatcakes and she relaxed when she saw him smile. Oh well, at least if the rest of the meal was a disaster they could eat oatcakes and salmon.

“Did you have a good day at work?” She asked, she had a day off and she hadn’t seen him since the morning when he left for work.

“It’s the end of the month and as you can imagine Lorcan has been his unpleasant self.”

“I need these reports on the desk by the end of yesterday?” She said, imitating the man’s voice.

Rowan chuckled and took another oatcake “that’s the gist.”

Once the appetisers were over, Aelin stood and went to get the next course. That was the surprise and the dish that meant the most.

She brought the oven dish to the dining table.

“You made mac and cheese.” Rowan’s tone was full of love.

“I did.” She took his plate and was ready to serve him his portion. It looked great and for a moment she had hoped. The recipe was for the baked version and the crust at the top looked golden and crunchy. Then she dipped the spatula to cut it and terror took her. It was runny.

“No, no, no, no, no…” she panicked.

“What happened?” Rowan stood and moved at her side.

“It happened that I should not be allowed to cook.” She sat on the chair and sniffled.

“I am sure it’s not that bad…”

“Ro,” Aelin almost shouted in frustration at his tone “you can drink it with a straw, mac and cheese is supposed to be creamy.”

He looked over “I think you put too much milk,” and with his hand he brushed her lower back in support.

Aelin started sobbing “I messed up the main dish. It was meant to be like the one we shared in my office.”

Rowan was about to reply when he smelled smoke “is something burning?”

“Holy fuck,” Aelin stood abruptly and ran to the kitchen and when she opened the oven a cloud of smoke engulfed her. The roast and the potatoes where charcoal. She sat dejected in front of the oven and Rowan joined and sat at her side “you have the most useless girlfriend ever.”

He brushed her hair off her face “ I do not.” A gentle kiss on her lips “my girl is brilliant, fearless, intelligent and very, very hot.” She gave him a wet chuckle. Gods, she loved him.

“I ruined our anniversary.”

Rowan stood and offered her his hand “you did not.” She took it and stood in front of him.

“We are going to Emrys, he does some amazing mac and cheese.”

“Fine,” she conceded.

Rowan cupped her face, refusing to let her be sad. He knew Aelin was not good at cooking and he had tried to teach her but once on her own she seemed to struggle.

But as the boyfriend madly in love with her he was more than happy to cook for both, everyday, forever.

Aelin did not seem convinced and still pouted at her mess. Rowan noticed that and cupped her face in his hand and kissed het tenderly “Hey, it was a lovely gesture and I am proud of you.” He took her hand in his, “now let’s go.”

They got changed and not long after they were walking to Emrys. Rowan’s arm on around her shoulder.

Aelin looked up at him and noticed a strange light in his eyes and a small grin. Whatever it was, he did not seem bothered by her fiasco.

Once they reached Emrys froze and cursed the evening that was turning into pure hell “it’s Monday, they are close. We are two idiots.” But all Rowan did was to push her toward the front door.

“Ro, they are closed.”

“Shush,” he said gently placing his hand on her lower back.

A moment later Emrys’ smiling face appeared on the door “hello Rowan, come in, it’s all ready.” Said the man stepping aside to let them in.

Aelin was stunned. speechless. He had an evening planned.

She turned to him “did you know I was going to mess up so you had a plan b?” Her tone full with irritation at his lack of trust in her.

Rowan looked at her, his eyes dancing with mirth “I didn’t even know you were going to cook. I booked all of this over a week ago.” He told her “I knew our anniversary would fall on a Monday, so I asked Emrys and Malakai if it was okay to use the place for our dinner.”

She stood on her tiptoes “I love you.” And kissed him. Rowan took her hand and walked inside the main room of the restaurant and Aelin again was stunned. The whole room had been decorated with white fairy lights, the table had candles and there were kingsflames in a vase as well.

“Happy anniversary, Fireheart.” And pulled her to his chest “I hope you’ll love this.”

“It’s perfect,” she said to him, feeling teary.

They sat down and Malakai brought wine “Emrys is just finishing up the last few things, it should not be too long.” Explained the man while pouring the wine.

He came back a moment later and brought back freshly baked pitta bread and hummus “just as a starter.”

Aelin attacked the appetisers, realising she was starving.

Once the appetiser was out of the way Rowan took her hand.

“I am glad I burned dinner, this is so much better.”

They had gone to Emrys for their first date which turned out to be their favourite restaurant and slowly their weekly dinner treat. It had become their place pretty quickly.

She was talking to Rowan when she noticed Emrys walking to them with a large oven dish and when Aelin looked, she saw mac and cheese. And it looked incredible.

“Of course,” said Rowan at her expression and poured more wine. It was a good thing they walked. Emrys plated their dinner and then walked away with a Cheshire cat grin.

“Go on, tuck in,” Rowan said to her once he noticed her eager expression.

Aelin did so and almost moaned savagely. It was divine.

After a few bites Rowan put the fork down and took her hand again, brushing his thumb on the top of it “thank you for walking into me that day in the cafeteria.” He told her, his green eyes on her “I know we had our ups and downs but these five years with you have been incredible.” He stood and took her hand inviting her to follow him. She stood with him and Rowan pulled Aelin to his chest. She wanted to complain she was eating, but whatever he was doing it seemed important.

Violin music spread in the room and Aelin recognised one of her favourite pieces of classical music. He swayed gently as if to dance, placed her hand on his shoulder and held her, his hand on her lower back.

“And I hope we’ll have many more together.” Aelin looked up at him and nodded, emotions threatening to overwhelm her. He kissed her with passion and then he pulled back a little “Aelin, my fireheart, will you do me the honour of joining me in the next adventure of our life and become my wife?”

Aelin sobbed loudly “only if you promise to keep cooking for me.”

Rowan laughed “Always.”

She threw her arms around his neck “yes, yes I will marry you.”

Rowan placed the ring on her finger then lifted her in his arms and kissed her.

He would cook for her, make her happy until his last day.

To whatever end.

#rowan whitethorn #aelin galythinius #rowan x aelin #rowaelin #fluff #domestic fluff

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jipuragi · 3 years

Text

la nostra casetta (our little house)

Summary:

“An Italian child can cook better than him.” Vincenzo cast a disapproving look in Chef Toto’s direction.

“Does that mean you can cook too?” Chayoung playfully nudged his knee under the table.

“You never asked,” he shrugged before taking a delicate bite of kimchi.

Ship: Hong Chayoung x Vincenzo Cassano (Gen)

Word Count: 2876, AO3 link

A/N: Written by @soulofevil and @the-marathon-continues-nip , beta’d by @sunalsolove , banner by @acerobbiereyes

“I can’t believe we’re eating kimchi fried rice at an Italian restaurant,” Chayoung commented as she lifted her chopsticks to her mouth, laden with rice. “Mmm, it’s delicious.” She ate her bite then eagerly dug in again. “Chef Toto is an amazing cook.”

Vincenzo snorted as he carefully picked away the mushrooms and placed them to the side.

“He’s passable at Korean food. Terrible at that contrivance he calls Italian.” Vincenzo cast a disapproving look in Chef Toto’s direction. “An Italian child can cook better than him.”

“Does that mean you can cook too?” She playfully nudged his knee under the table. “And why hasn’t the great Vincenzo Cassano offered to make spaghetti for his dearest partner Hong Chayoung? Hmm?” She folded her arms in mock anger.

“You never asked,” he shrugged before taking a delicate bite of kimchi.

“It’s a date then. You cook, I’ll bring the wine,” Chayoung lifted her water glass in a salute. “Call me when you get home.”

“Hey, you can’t pick the wine,” Vincenzo said, sitting up straight. “You’d probably get something French.”

Chayoung’s heart skipped a beat when she realized he didn’t argue about it being a date. “What’s wrong with French wine?” she asked, eager to change the subject. She could feel her cheeks burning. “Don’t they make the best red wine?”

Vincenzo’s chopsticks clattered to the table, thankfully oblivious to her blushing.

“The French make the best red wine?” He raised his voice at the horror of it all. “Do they make the best pasta dishes too? Why would I want French wine with Italian food?”

Chayoung couldn’t help but lean forward, placing her elbows on the table to watch him fondly. Vincenzo was always so attractive when he was engrossed in a subject he loved, whether it was fighting or talking about food and wine.

After agreeing to cook for Cha-young, Vincenzo now had the dilemma of what to cook.

He took stock of the contents of his refrigerator, wanting to put his imported Italian goods to use but unfortunately, he didn’t have much.

Babel kept them busy and restocking his luxury items had been pushed to the wayside.

But didn’t his adopted mother always say that the best dishes were often the simplest?

Inspiration struck and he began moving around in his small kitchen, pulling out the flour, eggs, olive oil, and salt.

It was a simple recipe, one he’d been making since he was a Korean-only speaking youth, and needed to stand on a chair to reach the countertop.

His adopted family used cooking as a chance for them to bond and teach him those Italian words that had felt so foreign in his mouth. Soon, mixing and kneading the dough had grown into a simple but pleasant experience, one that had become a weekly habit in Italy.

Maybe that was part of the reason he was feeling at ease now?

He hadn’t bothered cooking anything that required more work than boiling water since coming to Korea but now, as he tossed flour onto the counter and worked his hands into the dough, he felt different. Until recently his apartment had been little more than a hotel room, a temporary place to sleep until he could obtain his gold while he and Ms. Hong fought Babel.

His kneading slowed as he thought about Chayoung, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. She frequently crossed his mind these days making him feel... lighter. It was a foreign feeling that he couldn’t name yet but found pleasant and refreshing.

He dropped the dough before he could overwork it and wrapped it in plastic so it could rest, and then moved on to start his prep work for the carbonara and the scene for dinner. With an eye on the clock, he sent a quick text to Chayoung telling her to arrive in an hour before he settled back into the kitchen.

Running on autopilot Vincenzo went to work mincing shallots and garlic while remembering his earlier conversation with Chayoung.

She’d called this a date, maybe setting out a candle would be appropriate? It was also cliche as hell and she’d probably make fun of him, but he wanted to make her happy, to feel just a fraction of the warmth he did when he was in her presence. He smiled softly, glad to be in the privacy of his apartment so he could be alone with his thoughts and away from the rest of Geumga Plaza.

His smile disappeared, and his eyes widened in horror. Would Chayoung compare his table setting to Chef Toto’s garish setup?

A small sigh escaped him as he moved onto the next step of dinner. He didn’t question how Chayoung would react to their revenge plans against Babel which involved actual murder but something as simple as a candle for dinner made him… nervous?

It was such an unfamiliar feeling after being the Cassano consigliere for so long.

The alarm on his phone went off as a timer he didn’t even remember setting finished. He stared at it blankly before shaking his head, half an hour had already passed and he didn’t even notice.

He finished dicing up the pancetta and turned his eyes to the resting pasta. Asking ‘Chef’ Toto for his pasta machine would’ve saved him time but his pride demanded that he do it by hand, especially for Chayoung.

Besides, it was easy enough that he could go back to thinking about Chayoung, a soft smile returning to his face.

Chayoung loved alcohol and would drink soju, beer, and makgeolli, but she didn’t know much about wine.

It bothered her that Vincenzo didn’t think she was sophisticated enough to know what wine to choose, so she took it as a challenge.

She was going to surprise him with the best Italian wine.

Chayoung remembered Vincenzo saying that the wine store near her house was better stocked than the one near Jipuragi. Initially, she’d thought he was merely giving an excuse to walk her home but he did have a point.

The wine store in her neighborhood was a large one that stocked drinks from all over the globe.

“ Sforzato di Valtellina,” her tongue tripped over the Italian. According to the label, it was an intensely scented red wine that had an interesting origin of Nebbiolo grapes that had been left to wither.

Wasn’t that like her and Vincenzo? On the outskirts of society, left for dead as outsiders?

She bought the bottle of red wine, and white wine, just in case.

The knock at the door was right on time.

“The door’s open!” Vincenzo made sure he was loud enough to be heard, too engaged at the stove to leave it. He did take a look behind him, not wanting to miss Chayoung’s animated reaction to the amazing smells filling his apartment.

He wasn’t disappointed.

“Omo!” Chayoung sniffed the air dramatically as she entered Vincenzo’s apartment. She eagerly kicked off her shoes in the foyer and slipped into house slippers. “Am I at a Mafia’s house, or an Italian Chef? It smells delicious!”

“Don’t be silly,” he grumbled, stirring the pot, though his mouth curved upward in a smile.

“If Babel puts us out of business, we can always open up an Italian stall in the night market.” Chayoung stepped into the kitchen. “You can cook behind the scenes, and since I’m the pretty one, I’ll attract customers and sell.”

“Are you finished with your wishful thinking?” Vincenzo asked, rolling his eyes, though he agreed with her assessment that she was the pretty one.

“Never.” She poked his side and eagerly peered at the pot on the stove. “Can I taste?”

“No, it’s not finished.” Vincenzo batted her hand away though it was more playful than anything. “What’s that?” He gestured to the bags she’d left on the table.

“I hope you like it.” Chayoung blushed, uncharacteristically shy. “I wasn’t sure what to get,” she mumbled, tucking her hair behind her ear, feeling self-conscious. “I don’t usually drink wine and-”

“Don’t worry. I’ll like it,” Vincenzo said softly. His heart skipped a beat, as it always did when Chayoung seemed vulnerable. He wanted to hold her, to reassure her that everything was okay, and he’d never make her feel inadequate.

He helped her unpack the bags. “You bought Italian wine and not French?” His slight smile turned into a grin. “And two bottles?”

“And soju. And makgeolli. Just in case.” Chayoung’s cheeks were flaming now because she felt silly.

“It’s perfect,” Vincenzo said, not taking his eyes off her. “Thank you.”

She dipped her head in acknowledgment, then changed the subject.

“So, if times get tough, can we cook Inzhagi, or is he a family member now?”

Vincenzo couldn’t move two steps without Chayoung being behind him. She wanted to see what he was doing, taste the sauce along the way, whilst commenting on the process.

Normally, he was able to adapt to her being around, but this time, he was getting nervous.

Suppose he didn’t cook it correctly?

Suppose he did it right, but it wasn't to her taste?

Suppose-

“Ooh, Mr. Cassano, are these candles?” Chayoung interrupted his thoughts.

Vincenzo turned around. Chayoung was at the dining table, holding the tea light candles he’d fished out from a drawer, probably left there by the previous tenant.

“Are you planning to seduce me?” she smirked. “How naughty!”

“Ms .Hong -”

“They’re scented,” she made a show of holding the candles and sniffing them. There were about half a dozen of them, in an opened package, smelling faintly of vanilla. “How romantic!” She scrunched her nose at him playfully.

Vincenzo didn’t even hide his smile as she meandered off. He was happy and enjoying it. Just then, the timer for the pasta began beeping, and attention diverted, he left her to her own devices.

While he was distracted with marking dinner, Chayoung slipped into his bedroom, looking for a lighter.

His room was dark, smelling faintly of Vincenzo’s cologne and her breath caught, wondering if he’d thought of her in his bedroom if he ever thought of her as he showered and dressed. Her gaze moved to his bed, tucked in the corner, plain and neat as a pin, and begging to be messed up.

Unbidden, an image formed in her mind.

One of her leading Vincenzo to the bed and making him sit quietly, hands to his side so he could watch her slowly disrobe.

Would he like to be teased? Or would he prefer to take the lead, pushing her on the bed and pinning her arms above her head, kissing her deep and rough, like he wanted to-

“Lighters are on my dresser. If that’s what you’re looking for.”

Chayoung yelped, almost dropping the candle. Vincenzo was right beside her, watching her intently.

“Of course that’s what I’m looking for,” she gathered her wits. “Why else would I be in your bedroom?”

“Why else indeed,” he smirked, as he gestured to his dresser, on the other side of the room. “Make yourself at home.” He abruptly turned and left.

Chayoung’s face flushed. He couldn’t have guessed her thoughts, could he?

But she forgot about her embarrassment when she came across his lighter collection.

“How beautiful,” she breathed.

There were six golden lighters set upon a navy blue cloth with different sheens from bright lusters, to worn patinas. She gravitated towards the one that looked like a pocket watch, as it was the only round one, but then she noticed the plain lighter with no engraving. It wasn’t as eye-catching as the rest.

It made her think.

When did Vincenzo start collecting lighters? What made him choose one above the other? Did they have to be gold? If she gifted him with a lighter, would he accept it?

She chose the plain one, then returned to the kitchen where the pasta was already drained, the sauce finished, and Vincenzo was now setting the table.

Chayoung’s chest tightened as she clutched his lighter and blinked back tears.

She remembered life before her mother passed away, and the mundane things that made them a family. Cooking her father’s favorite food, and buying her mother’s favorite dessert, and spending time together in their kitchen.

How did it all go wrong, where she was now an orphan and alone?

Just then Vincenzo looked up, his eyes widening in alarm as he saw her face, before softening.

“Light the candles, Ms. Hong?” he asked, gently. “While I pour the wine?”

She nodded, choked up.

With the food done, wine poured, and Chayoung lighting the candles, the atmosphere was almost set for their evening.

The silence between them was a comfortable one, however, Vincenzo wanted more to fill his apartment.

His music library was limited to the soundtracks of his favorite operas, one of the few comforts he’d allowed himself when he was homesick for Italy. Some Wagner, a Mozart, but it was Pucci’s Tosca that his fingers settled on.

It was hard to pick a favorite opera but Tosca was easily his favorite soundtrack.

He put it on, turning down the volume so it would fill the background with the pleasant soprano of the titular Tosca before taking his seat across from Chayoung.

She smiled warmly, her eyes sparkling, and his breath caught. This was life and joy, and he wanted to experience every moment.

He picked slowly at his food, twirling his fork in the pasta, eating at a leisurely pace.

“This is so good,” Chayoung moaned, closing her eyes. “You’re such a good cook.” She opened her eyes, grinning mischievously. “What else are you good at, Mr. Cassano?”

Vincenzo took a sip of wine as his heart thudded.

“I made this for you , so I’m glad you like it.” He avoided her flirtatious question, raising his glass in a toast, though his face grew warm. “I want you to be happy.”

Her smile faltered as her gaze drifted to his lips, and then his hands which were clutching his wine glass.

“I love it,” she said, dipping her head before she attacked her pasta again.

The tea lights had burned down and the first bottle of wine had been finished off along with the carbonara when Vincenzo and Chayoung moved to the couch bringing the second bottle of wine.

Music played softly in the background, filling the comfortable silence that stretched out between them. He was at ease, not just physically but mentally and emotionally as well. It had been a long time since he had felt this level of peace with another person and Cha-young…

She was something special.

He didn’t know the words to describe how she made him feel or the way she affected him. But Vincenzo knew he wasn’t ready for her to leave just yet, even as their drinking slowed and Cha-young’s head rested on the back of the couch with her eyes closed.

It was foolish to sit there, savoring the way she looked like he savored the Sforzato in his glass but he had no choice.

She looked peaceful in that half-asleep state with only a small frown resting on her lips and not all the tension and worry of the Babel case etched on her features.

“What are we listening to?”

He tried not to jump when she spoke up, masking his surprise with a hum. Cha-young didn’t seem to notice as she continued on.

“It sounds terribly depressing and sad. I can’t imagine how bleak the words must be.”

Vincenzo chuckled softly, she wasn’t wrong.

“It’s Pucci’s Tosca ,” he said. “We’ve been listening to it since dinner started.”

“No wonder I’m sleepy now,” Chayoung snorted, snuggling close to Vincenzo, her head laying on his shoulder.

“I can turn it off,” Vincenzo offered. He settled into the couch, making room for Chayoung, and following her lead, he wrapped his hand around her waist so she could cuddle closer to his side.

“No. I can like it ‘cause you do.” Chayoung melted into his side, closing her eyes. “Stay.”

Vincenzo exhaled as he looked down, her silky hair fanned across his chest, and her long eyelashes dark against her cheeks. He gave in to the feelings of tenderness that had been creeping up all evening and letting it wash over him.

“I’ll stay as long as you want me to,” he murmured. It was hard for him, letting his guard down, and being vulnerable. But he would do it for her.

“I think I could fall in love with you, Mr. Cassano,” Chayoung whispered, burrowing even more into him. She was now laying on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, her legs tucked under her as she fell into a deep sleep.

And just like that, Vincenzo knew that his plans had to change, that he couldn’t leave Korea without considering this woman who’d been at his side, showing him light and love, and a better way to live.

He stroked her arm, waiting for her breathing to even out, and when she started lightly snoring, he smiled, closing his eyes and resting his head on hers.

“I’m already in love with you,” he confessed, deliberately speaking in Italian.

Curling up into the couch, and around Chayoung, he fell asleep as well.

#chayenzo fanfic #vincenzo #vincenzo kdrama #hong cha young #vincenzo cassano

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