#coffee-based solutions one shot

[melinamercury6538]

I’ve had this on my computer for a while now and have finally got round to posting it.

Enjoy a frothy tale of coffee, yearning and two silly beans who need to communicate better…

[yoongihan]

Services Rendered - BC - 1/3

pairing: escort chan x femreader

genre: smut, with little plot, a lot of talking, fluffy,

word count: ~ 10k

warnings: sex work, smut: pentrative safe sex, fingering (fem rec); a lot of kissing, older reader, chan goes by chris, use of 'baby' and 'yeonin' (don't ask, just writing him required all the endearments), the most ethical escort service ever; a little alcohol imbibed, but no one's drunk., some discussion of insecurities on both chris's and reader's parts. if i've missed something, let me know.

rating: 18+/M

summary: seeking a solution to your lack of experience, you assume the process will be business-like. you're entirely wrong.

a/n: vaguely based on the film Good Luck to You, Leo Grande. decided this couldn't be a one-shot they way it was going. so since the time frame is a weekend, they'll be another part for the second day, then perhaps an epilogue. thank you for the interest on the teaser. this is probably the softest sex worker au known to man.

The knock on the door startles you. It shouldn’t. You’ve known that he’ll be showing up at seven pm since you received the confirmation email; after the survey, the video interview, and the background check.

You look down at yourself at the knock, an immediate and instinctual check. There isn’t anything you can do in two seconds to change how you look, who you are; but the quick look is years and years of the world reminding you that you are not what the world wants. Which sometimes you can pride yourself on. But today, you can’t muster up that bravado.

But it’s been seconds since the first knock, so you hurry as the second rap sounds against the wood. You don’t look through the peephole because you’ll lose your nerve, and unless there are serious red flags with the person on the other side of the door, you are doing this.

It’s past time after all. 

You open the door, smile on your face even if it’s the fakest you’ve ever pasted on. 

The answering smile is far more sincere and confident than yours. And includes dimples. 

Oh god, they’d taken you seriously about often liking younger men. 

“Hi?” He starts when you don’t utter a word, shell-shocked. He says your name with a similar question mark at the end. 

“You have a beautiful smile.” You’re frozen, eyes sweeping up and down, taking in his casual air, amplified by the soft cardigan, shirt, and nice jeans. Then you actually hear what you’ve just said. “Sorry, I’m sorry. Um, please come in…Christopher?”

The confirmation email hadn’t given you a lot of details, but it did have his name. 

“Thank you and Chris is fine.” He’s still smiling as he walks in and you close the door behind. You watch him scan the room, taking in the couch, the view of the city beyond it. It’s the nicest hotel you’ve ever stayed in, but neutral territory had been recommended. “This is stunning.”

Your brain kicks back in, your eyes admiring the picture he made against the city lights. “You’re…your accent…Australian.”

He turns from taking in that spectacular view, his grin wider. “Good ear.” He sets his two bags, one messenger and one overnight (the implications of that second one sends another wave of anxiety through you) on the couch before seeing the two wine glasses on the coffee table. “Will you think less of me if I don’t drink?”

“Oh. No, not at all.” Your hands are clasped in front of you, like a caricature of an anxious woman. “There’s sodas in the minibar. Would you prefer me not to drink as well?”

He stands between the sofa and the window, eyes on you. “Will it help you relax?” He’s in profile, and you gaze at him, the strong nose, chin, and as you let your eyes travel down, the absolutely gorgeous ass.

You didn’t even know you had opinions about mens’ asses until this very moment. 

You cough a laugh, focusing back on his question. “Obvious huh?”

“It’s pointless of me to say not to be nervous, but I hope you know that you’re safe.”

You take a deep breath, walking over to the minibar and searching for two bottles of water. You force yourself to walk over to him, offering him one. 

“I know your company is reputable.”

He takes the water bottle from you, letting his fingers lightly touch yours. It’s nothing more than that, but you suspect it’s intentional. 

“It is. You did your research.” He tilts his head to the side, endearingly like he’s going to see you differently by just that change of angle. “Four months, wasn’t it?”

“You watched the interview?”

“Of course I did.”

If one of your hands wasn’t still holding a now sweating bottle of water, you would cover your face in embarrassment. You resist the impulse, just barely.

“Do you think I’d come here without doing my own research?” He’s amused, voice still warm with his accent and what you would normally categorize as fondness, but that’s impossible just meeting him seconds ago. 

“But I know nothing about you, just the company. They were very cryptic.”

“Well….isn’t that the fun of a date? The getting to know someone?” He gestures for you to sit on the couch before he untwists the cap and takes a swallow of water. He sits down once you do, leaving several feet between you. 

“Is that a better choice of word than assignation?”

He chuckles, pointing at me. “Smart. That was apparent pretty early on.” He seems completely at home even though you’ve been in the room since early afternoon, and are sitting with your back ramrod straight. “Didn’t even have to mention your job situation to know you’re smart.”

There is no natural segue into this, but you have to know. Even if he lies to you, you have to know. “Do you have a choice? I mean, do they assign you clients who fall under certain types, or do you have a quota?”

“You want to talk about my work?”

You take a breath, setting down the bottle on the table. “I guess not. I hope this isn’t horribly unwanted. I know it’s work for you, but I hope you–”

He shakes his head, immediately straightening up from his relaxed position, hand falling to your knee, not bare because you couldn’t see meeting him in a dress, even if that was encouraged for ‘heightened romance’ and ‘efficient disrobing’. Despite that you’re wearing a blue jumpsuit, his hand is so warm through the fabric. 

“This okay?” He nods to his hand placement. 

“You have carte blanche to touch me, Chris. I’ll tell you if I’m not okay with it.” That’s something you feel sure about at least.

His eyes widen and his smile grows. “Okay then. Same, by the way.”

There goes your confidence running out the door; that you can touch him in any way you want. 

“Back to your question. I chose you.”

“Excuse me?”

He laughs and gently squeezes your knee before drawing back. You’re somewhat befuddled by the simple touch and you remind yourself that you’re in for a lot more than that and to stop being so sensitive. 

“I watched your video, read your survey answers…and said yes.” He puts down the water bottle and leans forward a bit. “If no one had said yes, you wouldn’t have gotten that confirmation email.”

“You can choose?”

He nods.

“And you were okay with me?”

“Wow.”

You recognize it, the immediate words of chastisement that come when you say things like that, so you continue quickly. 

“I know, I know. I should be confident, right? Love myself, blah blah blah. I don’t hate myself. I just also know that I’ve never had someone interested in me enough to make me think that anyone would choose me.” 

He doesn’t say anything at first. And you realize you’ve just made this all the more awkward and put words into his mouth, which is highly presumptuous of you. 

“I’m sorry.” It’s easier to stare at the city lights than at him, no matter how beautiful he is. 

“Why?”

You look at him. “I…I was rude.”

“You were honest.”

You scoff. “That’s not usually a problem for me.”

“Good.”

You tuck your feet under you, leaning one elbow on the back of the sofa, eyeing him like he isn’t real.

He’s not. You’ve paid a lot of money for an illusion. 

“Really?”

“I like honesty.”

“Even if you’re playing a part for me?”

“You did not mention roleplay on that survey.” His smirk is delighted when you drop your gaze. “I’m not playing. Yes, I do what I do, but I’m going to be myself.”

“Even if all I want is so vanilla it barely qualifies for your line of work?”

He shakes his head. “Even if that’s all. But I don’t think that’s entirely true.” He reaches out, hand hovering over yours. “Okay?”

“Carte blanche.” You nod. You’re pretty sure you mentioned that you were touch-starved in the application process. 

He slots his fingers with yours, his focus on the meeting of your hands. “Do you want to talk about why I’m here?”

You wish you could say no, but that’s cowardly. And you do want to be brave. 

“That I’m a virgin and have so little understanding of sexual pleasure so I hired an expert to do what I can’t even do for myself?” your voice breaks and you hate yourself for it. 

“Why are you a virgin?” he asks. “Sex is not difficult to find if you really want to.”

“I said all this in my–”

“I’d like you to tell me anyway.” He doesn’t do more than hold your hand and his warmth, the lyrical quality of his voice seems to calm you just a touch. “Please?”

He has beautiful eyes. He probably knows that, and knows how to use them. But you can’t help but get lost in them when he says ‘please’ just like that. 

“I’m…I think or I thought that it should be something special, you know? I get that maybe I idealized it a bit much, growing up, eyes all starry with thoughts of romance and being intimate. But even recognizing that, I didn’t want to just…say yes to the drunken proposition at a bar. And…well, I’ve never been in a relationship, so being with someone I trusted wasn’t on the table either.”

“And why haven’t you been in a relationship?”

“It’s not just on me…the other person has to want to as well.” You’re beginning to sound like a petulant child and that’s not ideal. 

“You’re telling me no one wanted to?”

You stare at your combined hands. “If someone wanted to, I didn’t. If I wanted more than just a moment, he wasn’t interested.”

He says your name and you look up. You aren’t sure what he’s thinking, but it’s not pity in his eyes. That’s nice at least. 

“Why now? Why the company?”

“I’m…” You let out a heavy breath. “You saw my information. You know how old I am.”

“I do.”

“I’d like to know what an orgasm feels like before I get any older, because time seems to be running so fast and I’m frustrated that this part of life, of the human experience, is blocked from me.”

“It’s not.” He loosens his grip, turning your hand so it’s open, face-up, on your knee. He starts to trace along the lines there. “You can have an orgasm any time you want.”

“You think I haven’t tried?”

“What’s the problem?” There is no judgment in his tone, nothing but consideration. When you don’t immediately answer, he continues. “This wasn’t in your application or interview.”

“I get scared.”

To his credit, he doesn’t stop the light touching of your hand, even if admitting this feels like the quintessential ‘walking into your classroom naked’ nightmare. 

“Do you know why?”

You shrug, completely focused on the chaste and sweet brushes of skin on skin. “I haven’t been to therapy in a couple years, but I can speculate.”

He waits, a quirk of a smile when you don’t say anything. 

“I’ve probably built it up, in my head. Made it such a big deal that the anticipation is insurmountable. Or…I hate that it’ll just be me. That my first one will be on my own. I don’t know.” 

“Or societally-taught shame.”

You laugh. “Or that.”

He finally draws away after your hand feels thoroughly seduced. He leans back, waits before speaking. He doesn’t seem to rush anything, which is both nice and absolutely maddening. 

“Will it still be special if you’ve paid for it?”

That is the question, isn’t it?

“Maybe not. But at least, you’re contractually obligated to make sure I enjoy it, right? That seems pretty special after hearing everything from women I know about the men they sleep with.” The stories you’ve heard. It’s enough to question whether sex is even what you hope it might be. 

“And that’ll be enough?”

You want to reach out and touch him. Trace the lines of his face; the strong nose, the dimples, the curves of his eyebrows and lips. Touch the dark hair, wavy and messy that contrasts with the striking facial features. 

You could, you suppose. You paid for such access, right?

As beautiful as he is, as lovely as his voice is, and perhaps it’s because of those very things that you cannot be bold physically. Even if all you want is to be held. 

“I guess it has to be.”

He nods and opens his mouth to speak, but your stomach decides right then to make the most egregious sound. He laughs, a full session of giggling as you heat in mortification. He stands and offers his hand. 

“Let’s have dinner then?”

“Oh but.” How do you word this? “Is that good to do before–?” You’re an adult but you can’t for the life of you say ‘making love’ which isn’t even accurate. But ‘fucking’ feels incredibly crass.

He rubs his thumb over your knuckles. “You’ll need your energy, right?”

He’d know of course.

Some of the tension, the awkwardness, dissipates when you both look at the room service menu and order. Chris admits that spicy food is not his thing and you think it funny that this is the first thing you both have in common. 

“Do you…do you abstain from alcohol because of struggling with it?”

He has poured you a glass of the sparkling sweet stuff you’d picked up for yourself. You were pretty sure he wouldn’t like it, most men don’t or don’t admit that they do. The wine, like this entire experience, is for you. 

Your mind likes to tell you that you’re being selfish, but you’re choosing not to listen closely. 

He sets down the bottle before gesturing that you should sit again on the sofa while waiting for dinner. He waits until you sit before doing the same. You note mentally, in all capital letters, that he sits closer to you. 

“I generally don’t like it. Nor is it something I ever want to rely on…” He watches you take a sip and you find that a skill you tend to do well (drink something) is hindered by such an attentive gaze. You wipe your mouth quickly and set the glass down, looking away. “It’s my job. And I don’t want to do it with an inhibited mind.”

“Oh.”

“Can you do something for me?” he asks softly, reaching out once again to take your hand. You let him, hoping he will as successfully seduce this as he’d done with the other. 

“What?”

“When you have a thought, like you just did? Just tell me.”

“Without a filter?”

He grins, wide. “Absolutely without a filter.”

“Why?”

He chuckles and starts tracing the lines of your palm and fingers. “How am I going to get you to let go if I don’t know what is going on inside that head of yours?”

“I was hoping you’d just shut it down for me instead.”

It’s a glint. A quick, but potent change in his eyes. “Gotta know how it works before I render you senseless.”

His voice has changed too. No longer warm, but hot. No longer lyrical, but sharp. 

“It’s noisy,” you say slowly. “My brain rarely slows down or gets quiet. I went to a concert once, one I was super super excited about, and I kept telling myself to enjoy the moment, being present right then. But just telling myself that…”

“Means you weren’t. Present.”

You shake your head. “I’m going to overthink this.”

He nods. “Understood.” He lets his touch carry up the inside of your forearm and elbow. You shiver. He meets your eyes with a smirk. 

“How long have you been doing this? With the company?”

“A few years,” he says, fingers still lightly brushing your skin. “It’s not my only job. It’s just the better paying one.” 

“What else do you do?”

“Act. Or try to. I go to quite a few auditions, but the results aren’t great.” His lips twist as he thinks. “But I like it. I like the process of character work.”

“Do you do community theatre?”

“Some.” He grins. “You a theatre kid?”

“Once upon a time.”

He opens his mouth to say more, but there’s a knock at the door. “I’ll get it.”

“Oh but–”

He stands, hand out to keep you where you’re at. “It’s your weekend, right? Let me serve you.” The emphasis on ‘serve’ is left hanging as he goes to the door to retrieve dinner. You take a big gulp of your drink, unbidden images in your mind. You have no practical experience, but your imagination is as active as the rest of your brain. 

He returns with a large tray, setting down the dishes with ease.

“Worked in food service?”

“Who hasn’t?” He returns to the spot next to you and rests his hands on his knees. “You?”

“Food service? Yes. I was terrible at it.”

He laughs before removing the lids of each plate. He offers you one, silverware in his other hand. 

“Here you are, madam,” his grin is unburdened, very playful and bright. You could stare at it for hours. “Why were you terrible at it?”

You set your plate down, waiting for him to get his own food before you start. “Too many things to remember. And trying to interact with people like that? It was just…awkward. I'm decent with people, but for whatever reason, having to take their orders, bring them food and drink, figure out when is the appropriate time to bring them their check, just makes me awkward.” I shrug. “Also, murder on the feet.” You take a bite and chew, enjoying the flavors. 

“It really is. Which is why I prefer to do my work lying down.”

You can feel the immediate heat in your face at his words and he laughs so hard, he falls back on the couch. 

“I’m sorry, I'm sorry. It’s such a bad joke, but your face.” He squeezes your knee again, before taking a bite of his own meal. When you don’t say anything, he swallows and looks back at you. “What? Cheesy jokes aren’t your thing?”

It’s the smile. The crinkling of his eyes and scrunch of his nose. 

You lean close to kiss his cheek. “I just wanted to do that,” you say softly before pulling back and trying to focus on your food. You can feel his gaze as you take a few more bites. You know your embarrassment is more than obvious if he’s looking at you. 

Finally after several seconds of silence, you make eye contact. 

He smiles once you do, not saying anything, but returning to his meal. You both concentrate on that, the conversation mostly paused for sustenance. He refills your glass, but you’re careful not to drink too much, recognizing that you are a lightweight and you want to remember whatever happens. 

“We can order dessert?” he prompts when each of your plates are more empty than full. 

You lift your glass. “Plenty of sweet right here.”

“Can I try?” He doesn’t go for the extra wine glass still on the low table. He reaches for yours. It’s familiar, the drinking after someone else. You know it’s dumb to focus on it as you hired him for sex, but as you watch him sip it and stare into nothing as he ponders if he likes it or not, you feel the intimacy. 

“Well?”

“I like it.” He hands the glass back. “Doesn’t taste like alcohol.”

“Which makes it dangerous and this should be the last for me.” You look back to your plate, not completely done, but you’re thinking too much again and you can’t stomach any more. 

He stands and starts to clean up, shaking his head the moment you move to join. 

“I’m not good with just…not doing anything.” 

“I can see that.” He doesn’t have to seem so amused. “Makes it fun.” 

Mock-annoyed, you take your glass and walk to the windows so you can take in the view. The sun has been set for at least an hour now, and the lights from the city buildings are plentiful. You take a few deep breaths, realizing that now dinner is done, there is nothing hindering the ‘just do it’ portion of the night.

You hope he’s okay with a lot of foreplay because you, in the little you know about your body, need a lot of build up.

The door opens and shuts with him setting out the dishes for hotel staff to retrieve and soon you hear him rustling through his bag. You turn to see him pull out a zipped pouch. He winks at you.

“Gonna brush my teeth?”

“Oh. Oh sure.”

He chuckles at your response, and you force yourself to look back out over the city. Then in an almost panic, you finish the last of your wine, set down the glass and hurry to your overnight bag by the king-sized bed. You dig through to find your own toiletry bag, and tug it out. He comes out of the bathroom, glances over to see you’re no longer by the window. 

“I thought…” You feel so stupid. “I’d do the same.”

He smiles and gestures toward the bathroom. You hurry past him and shut the door behind you. You regret looking in the mirror as your face is decidedly not a poker face. Your nerves show in your eyes, the swollenness of chewing on your lips, the sheen of perspiration on your skin. 

You wipe under your eyes as your makeup is smeary before quickly brushing your teeth. You soak one of the pristine white washcloths and twist it so it’s damp and not dripping. You press it lightly to your face, hoping the cool will calm you down. You fiddle with your necklace, pulling the clasp to the back of your neck as though that will make any difference in how you appear to him. 

When you open the door, he’s standing by the end of the bed, hands in his pockets, looking at the two books you have on the nightstand. He points to them before speaking.

“Planning on doing a lot of reading?” He’s teasing, and that helps you calm down a little bit.

“I can’t go anywhere without at least one book. Even if the chances of getting to read are slim to none.” You mirror his posture, sliding your hands into the pockets of your jumpsuit.

“You okay?” he asks, voice gentle.

“Theoretically? Absolutely.” Your tone does nothing to confirm your words.

“Wanna sit with me?” He sits at the end of the bed and pats the space next to him. You hesitate. “Or we can sit on the couch?”

Dumb, you are dumb. The bed is the obvious final destination, but for whatever reason, the couch feels safer right now. 

“Please. The couch.”

He gets up and walks over to where you are still standing. He slips his hand in yours. 

“Come on, yeonin,” he says as he leads you back to the couch. He tugs you down next to him and you sit stiffly, hand still in his, other hand on the edge of the cushion like you’re about to escape. You force yourself to take a deep breath. “That’s better.” 

“I’m sorry.”

“Why?”

You look at your hands entwined. His are, like the rest of him, really attractive; bigger than yours, veins prominent in the way that epitomizes sexy. 

“We don’t have to do anything tonight. We don’t have to do anything the entire time,” he reassures you, making you look up to his face. “This is for you. It can be on your timeline.”

“But…but if I don’t do it now…I don’t think I ever will.”

He lifts your hand to his lips, presses a kiss to your knuckles, causing you to stare at him. “I think you’re psyching yourself out.”

“Oh, I am absolutely doing that,” you agree. “I can’t seem to stop it.”

He purses his lips in thought, then draws your hand against them again. He has to hear the catch in your breathing because he smiles. 

“Let’s start with what you are comfortable with. What you’ve done previously. What you want to do. With me.” His voice drops at the end, and you feel it pulsate through your body. 

“Okay.”

He waits, patiently. You pull your hand out of his and turn toward him, trying to relax yourself enough that you don’t look primed to run away. You tuck one leg under you before taking his hand again. He smiles as you do, slotting his fingers with yours, watching you as you watch how your hand looks in his. 

“I like your hands,” you say softly.

“Yeah? Why?” 

You like how his voice doesn’t betray any judgement at your words, or offense. Just curiosity. When you meet his gaze, you can see the top of his cheeks are a little pink.

Is he blushing?

“Well, one, they’re very warm.” You laugh. “I like the way they’re shaped.” You trace his index finger as you continue. “I know masculinity and femininity are products of our society, but they’re very masculine.” You shrug before shivering.

“You cold?” he asks quickly, letting go of your hand to tug off his cardigan. He has it on your shoulders, pulling it closed, before you can even protest. His white t-shirt underneath stretches taut across his chest and shoulders, catching your attention for a good few seconds. 

“I…thank you,” you reply, burying yourself more in the soft fuzzy material. “I like this cardigan.”

“I thought you might.” He’s gone back to holding your hand, other arm propped against the back of the sofa. 

His words spark something. “Wait…do you pick your clothes based on your clients?”

He grins, leaning his head on his hand, eyes sparkling. “You really want me to talk about work?”

“Okay, I shouldn’t, but I’m really fascinated.”

“Well…yes. It’s a costume. Some clients want a type of escort who’s very put together, like in a suit.”

The image of him in a well-tailored suit pops into your head immediately. “I imagine you look stunning.”

The pink spreads in his cheeks and you are beyond amused that this man, with the job he has, could at all be embarrassed by something as simple as a compliment. 

“I…I have a few nice suits.” He clears his throat. “But dependent on what a client is looking for in an…encounter, dictates outfit as much as persona.”

“I wouldn’t have minded seeing you in a suit.”

He chuckles, squeezing your hand before letting it go and tapping a random rhythm on your leg. “I speculated, from your interview, the way you looked at the camera, that you probably prefer authenticity over any sort of glamour. Someone a bit more real.”

“And that’s a cardigan?”

“For me it is. I was grateful I didn’t have to use anything in my hair.” He laughs now and you reach to touch his hair instinctively, caught up in the coziness and comfort of him and the simple conversation. His hair is soft, without any hair product. You can feel his eyes on you as you let your fingers brush through the strands. 

“So…you’re telling me,” you ask, drawing back after another minute. “You are being yourself, right now?”

“As much as a person can be with someone they’ve just met. And hope to–” He looks up, searching for the word.

“To fuck?”

His eyes dart back to you. “Simply put. But I would like to imagine it’d be a bit nicer than that.” Neither of you say anything and you’re back to second-guessing yourself. “Hey,” he begins. “Come here.”

He takes both of your hands, pulling you so you are almost in his lap. He lets your hands fall to his shoulders, his own holding about the waist. The position means he’s looking up at you. 

His thighs are warm between your legs, his eyes accented by dark lashes. You draw one finger down the length of his nose. He scrunches it at your touch. 

“It’s big.”

You laugh at his self-deprecation and the underlying innuendo that was probably unmeant but who cares?

“It’s a very nice nose,” you reply, cheeky grin. He responds with his own smile. “It fits your face, so it works, right?”

“We all have our insecurities, right?”

You brush back his hair, thinking. “Some of us have so many it’s hard to see what’s not tainted in dislike.” 

His hands tighten at your waist. “Tell me something you like about yourself.”

“Oh my god, you sound like my college counselor, who had me write five good things for every bad thing I said about myself.”

His smile is softer and one hand slides up your back, under the cardigan. “I’m asking for just one.”

“As much as it gets me into trouble,” you state slowly, your own hands mapping the journey of his shoulders to his neck and back again. “I like that I’m honest. That’s my default.”

“Another.”

“You said just one.”

“I did, but I’m greedy. Another and it has to be shallow.”

“Shallow?”

“Your looks.”

You frown at him, but he’s so pretty like this, looking up at you like he has all the time in the world, that he’s not on the clock. That this entire experience isn’t funded by your savings account and a plan months in the making. 

“I…”

“You can do it.”

You slap his shoulder and he laughs. “Do not patronize me.”

“I’m not. I’m encouraging.”

“Please.”

“Another good thing, about you.” His hand that had slid up your back has now drifted down, resting right at the curve of your ass. 

“My eyes?”

“What about them?”

“God, you are my college counselor.”

His smile is unrepentant. 

“They’re nice.”

His expression morphs into mild annoyance. “They’re beautiful. I like the color. And how much they show. You’d be shit at poker.”

“I’ll have you know that I mask my feelings decently well in everyday life. I’m just tired.”

He nods. 

“You’re not going to ask me to say another nice thing, are you?”

“I’m thinking about it.”

You lean down slightly, lessening the distance between your faces. His eyes don’t flicker away. 

“Are you trying to distract me?”

“Maybe?”

“I like when you’re like this.”

“Like what?”

“Confident. It’s sexy.” His voice drops lower with these words and you belatedly realize that in your effort to evade having to say another nice thing about yourself, you’ve invaded his personal space (not that he looks like he’s bothered by it) and if this was a movie or any type of story, your next move would be to kiss him. 

Which means now you’re looking at his lips. They, like everything you’ve seen of him so far (oh my god, you are going to see all of him at some point if this experience is at all successful) are beautiful, perfectly-shaped, enticing. 

He says your name in the same low voice, a promised whisper. “Kiss me.”

You swallow nervously. “It’s been a minute.”

“All the reason to practice on me.”

He’s good at this. Softening a moment that feels like too much for you. Making you smile when you feel overwhelmed and doubtful.

“Use you?”

“Please.” His hand slips farther down and there’s no denying that he has moved to less than appropriate places. 

You let your eyes close as you cover the last bit of space between you and him, your lips touching his so lightly it feels like a wisp of a daydream. He doesn’t let you get away with it though. Hand cupping the back of your neck, he keeps you there, the kiss lengthening and lingering in a way that brings back the shivers you thought the cardigan had dispelled. 

When he draws back, your breathing is a bit labored. He caresses where his hands sit, neck and ass, watching you carefully. You expect him to say something, maybe about you needing some practice for sure, but he doesn’t. He just watches before moving back in.

“Open up, yeonin,” he whispers, and your lips part instinctively at his words. Eyes close and you feel his tongue trace the inside of your lips before sliding in to stroke yours. 

You whimper and his hand tightens its grip on your ass. You run your fingers through his hair before moving closer. It shouldn’t surprise you that he’s good at kissing…it’s probably a requirement of his job. But where so many can use their tongue to excess, he’s found the perfect balance of tongue, lips, and teeth.

When you decide to be a bit bold and nibble on his lower lip, his hand tightens, a sharp exhale. 

“Confident,” he murmurs against your mouth before leaving it to press kisses to your jaw line, down to your neck. There’s a light nip and you gasp, your own fingers digging into his shoulders. He squeezes the back of your neck gently. 

“Chris,” you breathe, and he draws back, looking up at you. His lips are swollen, pink and plump. The color high on his cheeks, his hair even more tousled. 

“What is it, baby,” he asks softly, the quiet of the hotel room overwhelming. Should you have put on music? Isn’t that often the precursor to a night like this? His kiss on your lips is quick and almost careless. “Stay with me. I can see you thinking too hard.”

You half-laugh, embarrassed, loosening your hands and starting to sit back on your heels practically. He holds you firm so you can’t put any distance. 

“Don’t. Don’t move away.” He rubs your back, soothing. “What is it?”

“I just…you’re right. I’m thinking again.”

He smiles, leaning in so your noses touch. “Kiss me again. You’re good at it.”

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah.” His smile widens when you swoop back in. He lets you lead, eager to taste him, eager to enjoy this moment without thinking it’ll end in minutes. You play with his hair, while he kisses you back, tongue curling with yours. It takes you a moment or three, realizing that his hold on your ass, tightens ever so much, ever so slowly closer until when you break from his lips to suck a mark on his neck, his hips buck right up against you. 

And you freeze. 

“Hey, hey,” he says, still in that soft soft voice. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you breathe. 

“Scared?” You’ve tucked your face into the curve of his neck, breathing him in, trying to relax. 

“It’s dumb. It…you feel good. It’s just…surprising. I’m sorry.”

He kisses the side of your head, the hand again rubbing circles on your back. “Don’t apologize.” He waits. “Look at me.”

You lift your head, your face burning with humiliation. He cups your face in his hand. 

“Your pace, okay? If you’ve never been with someone, it would be a little scary.” He holds your chin with his thumb and forefinger. “But if it worried you at all, I do want you.”

You take a deep breath, watching his face as though there might be something to tell you he isn’t being truthful. 

“You’re way too nice.”

He chuckles, kissing you softly. “I like being nice. I like being nice to you. I like listening to the sounds you make when you’re excited, how you move closer when turned on.” He stares at you with no shame. “I like that it’s me making you do those things.”

Your cheeks burn. 

“Come on,” he says, and without any sort of visual effort, he lifts you. You squeak, legs wrapping around his waist. He’s laughing at your shock, carrying you toward the bed. You can feel your breathing shorten as he lays you down with ease. He regards you, rubbing one hand on your thigh that starts to relax, his other against the mattress, so his entire weight isn’t on you. 

You stare up at him. 

“What are you thinking now?” 

“That I’m warm.”

His grin is infectious. “Probably ought to get rid of that cardigan.” He rolls to his side, gently tugging the garment off your shoulders, down your arms. You push yourself up so he can pull it from under you. You fall back, the bed bouncing. He waits for a second. 

“Still warm?” he asks, fingers tracing the buttons in front of your jumpsuit. His eyes flick to yours. “We still good?”

“Yes.”

“I’m not entirely convinced by that,” he teases, leaning to kiss you just as he undoes the top button. You focus on the feel of his mouth, the wet heat, even as it leaves your lips, trailing down to your neck and then the middle of your chest as he undoes the rest of the buttons. “Pretty,” he comments when your bra is revealed by the unbuttoning. He looks up at you through his lashes. 

“Pretty,” you repeat, tugging on the shoulder of his t-shirt. He laughs as he sits up and does the very attractive guy thing, of pulling it off from behind his neck. “Oh.”

He raises his eyebrows, looking down at his half-naked state. “I mean, I did have dinner, so…” There’s humor, but you hear the self-deprecation. 

It’s instinct, you sitting up and reaching out to touch him. “The ‘oh’ was pure admiration, Chris. Like, you are stunning.” Your hands trace down his arms. “I…it’s a little intimidating, honestly. I know that for your job…both jobs probably…you need to look perfect…but perfection is daunting.” You don’t think that your hands are boldly caressing his bare skin, until you feel the top of his jeans at your fingers. Your eyes widen and you pull away as though burnt.

He’s giggling, grabbing your hands and placing them back on his shoulders. “Carte blanche, remember. God, you’re cute.” He keeps his smile even when the giggles subside, carefully nudging your clothing off your shoulders. He draws one finger up the valley between your breasts. 

“I am not perfect-looking.”

He doesn’t look away from you, eyes heating at your bare skin, his hand resting on your arm. You start to pull away, fidget at the quiet and his lengthy perusal. His hand tightens, keeping you still. 

“Chris.”

His eyes move up to yours. “Stunning.”

You don’t believe him, why would you when he looks like he does? But there’s something in his gaze that makes you think he believes it, and in matters of whether or not someone is beautiful, it really is in the eye of the beholder, right?

And he is beholding, currently. 

It’s too much for you at this point, his acute focus on you, so you move in to kiss him again, more than happy to get back to the familiar. He returns kiss for kiss, and you fall backward into the mattress and pillows, his body on yours, a pleasant weight. When he leaves your lips this time, you think you’ll feel him against your neck, leaving marks; but the wet heat of his mouth encases your covered breast. The gasp you let out is barely audible, the sharp inhale of air. It sends a frisson through you, as his hand slips under the still open fabric covering your hips. The combinations of heat from his mouth and his hand overwhelms, and you can’t stop shuddering. You make some nonsensical sound when he proceeds to lavish the same attention on your other breast. The wet lace and satin scratches in the most indulgent way. 

“Do something for me?” he whispers, his breath chilling your damp skin. 

“What?”

“Since it’s new, use the stoplight system? Red means full stop. Yellow means a pause, perhaps take a break, and green means you’re good, not scared, not hurting.” His eyes zero into yours without flickering away.

You nod, breathless. “Okay. I…I can do that.”

“Cause I’m gonna touch you now, and you gotta tell me what works and what doesn’t.” He kisses your nose. His fingers sneak under your underwear, slowly like he believes you’re still skittish (you are, but you also want something down there). He’s so gentle, kissing you as he drags the pad of his finger along your entrance. “Color?” he says against your mouth.

“Huh?”

He lifts his head a bit more, smiling down at you. “What color?”

“Oh. Oh! Green.”

He chuckles, murmuring, “Cute,” before going back to kissing you. His thumb presses on your clit and your hips buck. “Easy,” he says, his other hand on your hip to hold you down. 

“Chris…that…that feels good.”

He does the same movement again, your hips try, but his hand is heavy to keep you steady. “That?”

You narrow your gaze, even though you’re quivering with his touch. “You’re making fun of me.”

He leans in, smile as wide as can be, dimples deep. His nose brushes yours. 

“Absolutely.” 

You raise up to meet his lips, fingers seeking his hair. He hums, his fingers playing with you, as though seeking the destination immediately isn’t the point. You trace down his neck to his shoulders and arms.

“You know,” you begin, gasping when he slides one finger into you. His smile is so arrogant. 

“You were saying?”

“I…” 

He circles your clit with the barest of touches, his other finger curling up inside. Your breath hitches.

“Breathe, baby. Yeonin, you’re okay, just breathe.” His gaze is soft on you as you can’t help but close your eyes tight as the liquid pull of pleasure grows. You feel like a band drawn tight, seconds away from breaking. You feel his lips on yours, careful before speaking. “Don’t be scared, just let go.”

It ramps up, the tension building and building, and you are gasping, opening your eyes to see that his gaze is resolute on you.  

When his second finger slips in, curling with the other, you shatter. 

He licks into your mouth, as you have no voice to make a sound. You’re only aware of the sensations; his tongue on yours, your fingers biting into the skin of his arms, how your legs tremble. 

How the quiet and ease flickers back into your brain after the quivers lessen, and the muscles ease. 

His fingers are still in you, still touching you and you shake your head. 

“Too much?”

“Yellow.”

He pulls his hand away, quietly adjusting your underwear. The hand that held your hip slides up to your stomach, warm and comforting. 

You take a deep breath, finding his eyes. “Wow.”

He laughs, falling down next to you, no longer propping himself up. If your face was hot with exertion and arousal earlier, it’s now hot with embarrassment. 

“That’s the best feedback I’ve gotten,” he says, his hand cupping your waist, so he can roll you toward him. 

“I doubt that.”

He leans in to kiss you quick. “How do you feel?”

“Both exhausted and energized. I think.”

“Sounds about right.” He rolls to his back, looking up at the ceiling. You push yourself to your elbows, unable to look away from him. He eventually glances over. “Yes?”

“That’s not it, is it?”

He snorts, trying not to laugh too loudly. “Not at all. But I thought you might want a break.”

Your gaze moves from his beautiful face to his arms. “I remember what I was going to say before you…”

“Before I…?”

“Shut up.”

He’s snickering. 

“I was going to say how it’s wrong that they only talk about curves in regards to women. Men have curves too.” You smooth your fingers along his arm, wrist to shoulder. “Just as beautiful.” 

His snickering fades. “Really?”

“Arms…jaw line.” You trace each as you speak. “Lips.” Which part when your finger makes contact. You meet his eyes for a second before hoping it’s an invitation, slip your finger in. His lips wrap around it, his teeth dragging against the pad of your finger. “Oh god.”

He smiles before sucking then releasing. He sits up, finger under your chin so you’re facing him. He kisses you lightly, before toying with the last button on your jumpsuit. “I think we should remove this.”

As much as you’d like to see more of him, completely baring yourself is something you haven’t done outside of your own bedroom, and in a doctor’s office. But you can do this. “Okay..if…” You gesture to his jeans. “Equality and all that.”

“For equality,” he teases, moving to stand at the end of the bed. You follow, reaching for the button on his jeans. “You want to?”

“Yes.” You focus on your fingers working properly, though you’re still a bit shaky from your…orgasm. At some point, you are going to have to process through that. His hands cover yours. “I can do it, I’m just a bit jumpy.”

You feel his lips on your forehead. “You know, we don’t have to do this tonight. I could just eat you out.”

Your head shoots up in surprise. He seems unbothered by how casually he talks about oral sex. 

“But you’re…” With your hands near and your attention at the fastening of his pants, his arousal is more than obvious. 

“Yes, I am.” He doesn’t let go of your hands, even as you undo the button and pull down the zipper. There’s a strain to his voice when your fingers unthinkingly brush him. There’s a twitch and you find yourself fascinated by it. “But this is easily dealt with if you want. You’re still a virgin, but you know what an orgasm feels like. So, we could just stop–”

“No,” you interrupt, looking up at him, letting your hand stroke him through his underwear. There’s another twitch, and his face tenses slightly. After being so completely undone by his touch, you want to ‘return the favor.’ See him undone. “Please?”

Your hands are bolder, tugging down his jeans so you can cup him easier. He breathes sharply through his nose, head dropping slightly. 

“You do not have to say please, I’m more than willing.”

You peer up at him. His eyes are half-mast, another edged inhale. You push down his jeans completely, letting him step out of them, kicking them away. He wears black boxer-briefs that are straining currently. You reach for them, but he wraps his hands around your wrists, halting you. 

“No?”

“Equality,” he says, the amusement back in his voice. 

Right, you still have your jumpsuit on, well, half on. 

He lets go, moving a step closer so you can feel his body heat, smell whatever fresh cologne he wears, heightening his natural scent. He slides his hands between your skin and the jumpsuit, hands so warm you shiver despite not being chilly. Your clothing falls, following the journey of his hands, hips to thighs to ankles. He’s at your feet, looking up at you; those eyes so dark, you can’t see the warm mahogany. 

You step out of the pile of fabric and he tosses it over the back of the chair several feet away. 

You are essentially without clothing, your underwear (hand-picked for this weekend as you figured you might as well try something pretty) covering enough, but not enough. If he senses this, he doesn’t indicate, walking back to you and cupping your face in his big hands, tipping your head up for a kiss. You welcome this, the heat of his mouth. It’s been only minutes since he’s kissed you, but you crave like an addict who’s going through withdrawal. 

Stroking his bare back has you humming against his lips (how could a back feel so good? But here you are). You can feel his smile, his tremble and goosebumps as the room isn’t exactly at temperature for as little as you two are wearing.

“Cold?” you ask softly. He pecks your lips before drawing back to make eye contact. His hands stay on your face, and you feel cherished, which a voice in your brain tells you is stupid as you’re paying this man and his company to make you feel like that. 

He’s a really good actor.

“A bit,” he replies to your question. He brushes his nose with yours. “I’ll grab a condom.”

Your eyes widen, but you nod, immediately colder when he lets go. He sits at the end of the bed, rummaging in his bag. You grab something out of yours, your face hot with embarrassment. He looks over at what you offer. 

“I…uh…did research and a friend recommended this.”

“Lube?” he asks, taking it and glancing at the label. “Okay.” He’s smiling at you, like you’re funny, which might be true even if you aren’t trying to be. 

You sit on the bed, in the middle, a bit at a loss now that you have nothing in your hands. “I would have bought condoms, but there’s so many kinds and sizes and I was worried I might offend you with getting the wrong size. I wouldn’t even know.”

He looks over his shoulder, still smiling. “Tends to be a required thing I bring.”

“Of course.”

He, having retrieved said prophylactic, crawls to where you’re sat (the bed is king-sized and it feels monstrously large). He sits next to you, cross-legged like you are. 

“Again, we don’t have to. I can get you off as much as you want without–”

“It’s weird,” you say, glancing at him. “Just talking about this. I’ve talked in theoreticals about sex my whole life and now, it’s just…it’s such a normal thing, right? Just this thing a lot of people do but I haven’t.” 

He bumps shoulders with you. 

“I’m sorry. I’m going off on a tangent again. I’m sure it’s annoying.”

He links his hand with yours, resting them on his knee. “I’m not annoyed. I like talking to you. And I want you to be comfortable and have a good time, not feel pressured or coerced in any way. We can talk all night.”

“No. I mean, that actually sounds like fun with you.”

His answering smile is brilliant.

“But…I want to. I’m just nervous.” You lift his hand, still wrapped around yours, to your lips. You meet his gaze. “I’m so glad you chose me.”

The fondness melts into something hotter in his eyes, pupils dilating. He eases you onto your back, kissing you softly, mouth at your mouth, then your neck and collarbone. You squirm, as he hovers over you, raising up to check on you. It’s criminal how good he looks, hair messy (from your hands), lips swollen (from your lips). He toys with the clasp of your bra, his fingers brushing the edges of your curves. 

“Can I?”

You nod, your breathing hindered by how easily he’s wound you up again, with only kisses. He undoes the clasp without difficulty, gently peeling off the lace from your breast, exposing them to his regard. 

With a glance at your face, another check in, he lowers to suck on one nipple, the feeling entirely different without fabric hindering. You hiss out his name, hands scrambling to grab his arms, something to ground you. His chuckles vibrate against your skin and you moan more wantonly than you believed you were capable of. He moves to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Your fingers dig into his arms; you’ll leave marks.

You hope you leave some sort of impression on this man. 

Once he’s done twisting you up, he removes your bra, tossing it aside before snapping the band of your underwear, causing you to jolt.

“Okay?” he asks.

“Please. Yours too?” Your words aren’t more than whispers. He smirks, before shedding his and tugging down yours. You stare, openly and blatantly at his nudity. 

“I’m debating on telling you whether I’m average or not,” he teases, making you look away from his cock to his face. 

“Does it matter? Really?”

He shakes his head. “No.”

“I think you’re beautiful,” you say, prompted by the visual you have. 

His cheeks, already pink from arousal, deepen all the more and you laugh. He makes a face at you before moving back to kissing you. 

“Aren’t you just trouble,” he murmurs, slipping the foil packet into your hand. “Put it on?”

You push yourself back up to rip open the packet, and roll it on him. You don’t draw back, fascinated by the immense heat he radiates, how delicate the skin is, even under the latex. He twitches at your exploration. 

“It feels okay?”

“Feels great,” the words on a heavy exhale. He does, however, take your hand away, assisting you back onto the bed. “So…there’s a lot of ways to do this, and I would like to try them all with you, but this is probably the easiest for your first time.”

“Missionary?”

“A classic,” he jokes before his expression smoothes into something more serious. “You can tell me to stop at any time.”

“Green, yellow, red.”

“Exactly.” Moving himself, so he’s kneeling between your legs, he squeezes out the lube into his hands, warming it before sliding it onto his cock, and then to your cunt. You jump at the feel of it, but his hands haven’t forgotten how to play you and that build that you felt not that long ago, starts its climb yet again. 

“Chris,” you reach out for him, shuddering as he toys with your clit. He leans down so you can grab him, feel that smooth back. His mouth attaches to yours, as his fingers circle, press and increase the anticipation. You reach for him, wrapping your hand around his dick, intent because even with no experience, you clench; your body instinctively craving something to fill you. He curses at your touch. “No?”

“You’re good, baby. Hand feels good,” he reassures, lips and teeth sloppily moving against yours. “Still green?” You tense when you feel him at your entrance.

“Yes. Green, please.” You want so desperately. 

He pushes in, incrementally. “Breathe through it. You have to relax.” He’s watching you so carefully as he continues. You stare back, he seems blurry right now. The stretch is borderline painful, but you still want it. Your hand slides to his hip and then his ass, where you grip hard. 

“Color?” He seems so calm, but his voice is labored, tension coloring it. 

“Green.” Can he even hear you? You don’t know if you’ve even given voice or just mouthed it. “Fuck. I’m so full of you.”

He curses again. “You can’t say shit like that.”

You blink away some of the haze, to focus on him. Veins bulging in his neck, and arms. “I can’t?”

“I mean…” He takes a deep breath, expression softening slightly. “You feel so good, but I need to be careful with you.”

“I do?”

He laughs brokenly at how pleased you sound. “So fucking cute,” he mutters. “I’m gonna move, okay?”

“Okay.”

He pulls back, not as slowly, but still with patience you can’t fathom. The stroke, how he slides against your core is delicious and strange and wonderful. He pushes back in. 

“Feels good,” you sigh. 

He hums in response, repeating the motion before chuckling. Your eyes shoot open as he looks down at you. 

“What?”

“Helps if you move too.”

You’re already very hot from everything, but you can feel the blood rush to your face. He’s still giggling and moves to kiss you.

“You’re okay, I’m just giving you a few pointers. You can absolutely just lay there if you want. It’ll probably feel better though if you move.”

“I guess I’m a bit rubbish at this.”

“Nah, just learning.” He brushes his nose against yours. “No one is an expert their first time.” 

As you clench and try to find a rhythm with your hips that matches his, “I bet you were.”

He laughs, strained but joyous. “I definitely wasn’t.” He keeps himself propped up with one hand on the bed, but his other returns to your clit, the mere touch pushing that climb again. There’s a moment when your hips align and you just know you did it right, but it’s half a second and you find you’re off again, especially with his attention on your clit. 

“Chris,” you whine. 

“You can let go, yeonin. It’s fine.”

When you break, it’s different than the first time, not as intense, but lovely and shattering. The rolls through you, tremors and muscles relaxing. 

No wonder everyone does this. 

“Stay with me,” you hear him. You open your eyes to see that he’s still moving, his thrusts more erratic. You squeeze him, out of some instinct you didn’t know you had. He groans. “Yeah, that’s good.” You don’t feel like you have much strength after a second orgasm, but you roll your hips and clench as best you can as he speeds up. 

It’s fascinating to watch him climax, the tension in the neck veins, the jaw muscles tight, the furrow in his forehead. It’s a different kind of beauty, heightened by the knowledge that you, or your body at least, did that. He falls on top of you, his hands trying to keep his weight off, but you wrap yourself around him as he shudders from release. 

After several minutes, when it seems like his trembling has ceased, you nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck. “Color?” 

He chuckles. “Fucking green.” He kisses the top of your chest before lifting up to see you. “You?”

“That was really…yeah.”

He grins, boyish charm. “Good.” He stares at you for a few seconds. “You look a little sleepy.”

“Yeeeeah. Maybe.”

He laughs before rolling off and out of you. You wince at the loss. He disposes of the condom before tugging you off the bed. 

“Did we ruin the comforter?” you ask, standing but a bit wobbly. 

“Probably not,” he says, pulling the comforter off and onto the floor. He wraps an arm around you, at ease in his nakedness (your brain is foggy still and you just now are realizing how naked you are too). “Pajamas?”

“Yes…” you slur a little, exhaustion from all your nerves today, anticipation and worry catching up. He sits you down on the sheets before going into the bathroom. He returns with a wet washcloth. “Oh, I can…”

“Hush,” he admonishes, cleaning you up reverently. He tosses the washcloth on top of the discarded comforter and then goes to your bag and pulls out your faded t-shirt and soft flannel pants. 

“I…I have a…lingerie nightgown in there.”

He shakes his head, coming to kneel in front of you. He slides on the pants, then the t-shirt over your head. 

“Something comfortable. You can show me the nightgown tomorrow night.” He pulls back the sheets and gets you settled in. You curl to your side, eyes closed against the pillow. You hear him move around the room, the few lamps that were on turn off. It feels like seconds or days until he slides in next to you. He touches your side lightly, saying your name. 

“Hmm?” you reply, before reaching to grab his hand and wrap it around your middle. There’s a half-laugh. 

“Guess you like cuddling, too?”

You make an affirmative sound as he curves around you, his lips touching the back of your neck. You shiver and lace your fingers with his. 

“Chris?” you say a few minutes later, the threat of sleep looming.

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Thank you. I want to make sure I say it.” 

He doesn’t say anything, but kisses your shoulder. “You’re welcome, yeonin. I’ll see you in the morning.”

You can’t wait. 

---

© yoongihan 2025. please do not steal, translate, repost, or whatever. stray kids belong to themselves and all idols used in this piece are just the inspiration for characters and do not in any way reflect the actual humans. 

[enwoso]

https://www.tumblr.com/enwoso/764157672527396865/this-is-so-leah-and-lovie-coded-icl

Insert Lessi with heart eyes watching Leah and Tiny having there moment and just being very proud of them both. After the game every one of both families gushing over how cute the moment was.

soft spot | alessia russo x leah williamson x child!reader

based also on this video as well as a few other asks i got based on this video🥹

grumpy masterlist

champion's league nights at the emirates where back, well for most. alessia unfortunatly was having to sit this one out due a minor knock she picked up during training - yes it was annoying but she knew it was just a precaution.

but it did mean it had made a change to who you were walking out with. of course, if alessia had of been playing you would have been by her side. 

the small disappointing look on you face when you found out, espsically since you had been so excited it being your first time walking out at the emirates, it broke alessia’s heart but there wasn't much she could do.

the training staff were not going to take the risk and let her play so instead alessia promised you she would be back for the next champions league match and you could walk out with her then. 

it may not be the same but it would have to do. it was the best solution she could come up with until-

"tiny could walk out with me if she wants too?" leah shrugged as she palced her cup of tea back on the coffee table having watched on the conversation, the sad smile on your face enough to make anyones heart feel that little bit heavier. alessia looked over her shoulder at the blonde a small hopeful look as she shot her girlfriend a smile before she looked at you.

"would you like to walk out with le instead?" your mummy asked you as you stood for a moment assessing your options before you nodded a little, "yes!" you jumped up a little in excitement hugging your mummy's leg before jumping on leah. alessia's heart full again as she mouthed a thank you in leah's direction.

now just a few days after you were stood clad in your arsenal jersey, number six proudly on your back but still with your last name in capital letters, in the tunnel in your mummy's arms as you both awaited leah coming out of the changing room. people had slowly started to come from the doors just behind you and your mummy, as she spoke to some of the staff as well as the some of her teammates which started to emerge. 

then leah came out, making alessia jump a little as she hadn't seen her girlfriend creep up on her, placing a kiss to alessia's cheek before sending a small wave to you which you returned. "i like the look of this" leah smiled as she pointed to the number on your back.

your mummy humming, "thought we'd try something new, didn't we lovie?" you nodded you rested your head on your mum's shoulder more focused on watching the girls come out of the changing room than the conversation.

"don't get used to it though-" alessia whispered as she smiled smugly pecking leah's lips quickly, who rolled her eyes at the other blonde's comment, just as the bell went for the players to start and get ready to line up. 

alessia handing you over to leah, knowing with the mood you were in there was no way you were walking. "i think she's a bit nervous" she whispered as she handed you over, leah nodding.

"lovie, mummy will see you soon" alessia cooed as she kissed your forehead, you saying a small bye as you waved. alessia dropping back to talk to a few of the other girls as leah began to distract you hoping to pull you slightly from your quiet mood. 

"what have you been doing with mummy this morning?” leah asked as you hummed a little your fingers hanging in your mouth. leah had left a little earlier meaning she missed the usual routine that would take place. eating breakfast all together, getting in the car all together etc.

“had breakfast with mummy then went to the park and see nonna and gramps” you said quietly your fingers still in your mouth as leah smiled listening to you as she reached up to take your fingers from your mouth.

“that sounds fun, did you beat mummy on the slide race? did you have your usual?” leah asked you a. few questions to try and distract you as you nodded. anytime you were at the park you had to have race down the slide with whoever you were with, it was tradition. most of the time you won but the odd occasion you would get slowed down by the slide.

as well as you always loving your cereal with a fruit pot to the side having it every morning as you watched the cartoons on the tv while mummy and leah would get ready for the day with a coffee in their hand.

you were starting to come back out your shell a little as leah talked to you calming your little nerves, alessia was still in the tunnel as she spoke with some of the other girls seeing how they felt before the game but also close by just in case you had a little wobble and no longer wanted to walk out with leah.

“leah really has a soft spot for tiny doesn’t she-“ lia smiled as she looked in the same eye line which alessia was looking in. alessia bringing herself out of her little bubble as she watched both you and leah and how easily she had calmed your nerves — something leah was strangely good at.

alessia nodded as she tried to stop the big grin appearing on her face but it was no use, “she really does” alessia agreed, she couldn’t not. leah did have a soft spot and while you may not be her own blood, leah would do anything to make sure you were happy.

“le? we go out there?” you asked, pointing further down the tunnel where you could see the green of the grass a little flash of fear appearing on your face again.

“yeah, just down there” leah explained as she watched as you fingers found there way back into your mouth, “but don’t worry, i’ll be right here and then mummy will be waiting at the side for you” leah assured you, taking your hand in hers as you sat snug in her arms.

it was finally time for the players to walk out and leah asks if you want to walk but you shake your head so you walk out in leah’s arms. the noise of the fans going right through you as you look at the many colours in the stadium most being dressed in some sort of red clothing.

the music playing through your ears, “look there mummy, are you going to wave?” leah asked as she speaks directly into your ears so you can hear over the roars of chants.

leah smiling as she waves to alessia, you looking over with an unsure smile, your fingers in your mouth as you felt a little overwhelmed not really sure where to look.

a small chuckle coming from leah as she walked your confused look, shaking hands with the opposing team as well as taking the team photo before leah placed you down on the grass. taking your small hand in hers as she lead you towards alessia who was waiting on the touch line for you.

“good luck le”

-

the end of the game came and as leah did her rounds of the pitch clapping to the fans and thanking them, signing a few arsenal shirts before she got to where she really wanted to be. which was with her family.

alessia had spent the game surrounded by her family but also leah’s. you had exerted so much energy during the first half, chanting and jumping up and down with luca and jacob that by the 80th minute you were snuggled up in your mummy’s jacket fast asleep.

leah said her hellos making her way along the line before she made it to alessia, the two sharing a sweet kiss as leah leaned over the barrier.

“where’s little one?” leah asked alessia as she scanned the small section of the crowd for you, more awaiting fro you to just pop up from no where and scare the life out of her but she couldn’t see you nor hear you.

“she’s here-“ alessia chuckled a little as she peeled back her jacket to show your sleeping form as leah awed at the sight.

“do you want me to take her, give your arms a rest?” leah asked as alessia nodded lifting you up into leah’s arms. you not even batting a eyelid, still in dream land.

alessia placing a kiss to you cheek as leah walked back along the line to talk to her mum, as carol turned to her daughter wrapping her in a side hug with a loving smile on her face.

“you’ve picked a good one less-“ carol smiles as alessia hums watching her girlfriend walk around with you wrapped securely in her arms, looking very sexy in alessia’s modest mind.

“i really did get lucky-“ alessia paused, a proud smile lifting on her lips, “she’s always putting me and lovie above herself”

“you can tell she really love you less. loves you both”

[papelespresso]

PAPEL ESPRESSO - DEVASA+

As a home barista, investing in high-quality espresso tools can significantly improve the quality of your espresso shots. One such tool that has gained popularity in recent years is the Best WDT tool, or the Weiss Distribution Technique tool. The WDT tool is designed to evenly distribute coffee grounds in the portafilter basket, resulting in a more consistent and flavorful espresso shot. By breaking up clumps and ensuring even distribution, the WDT tool can prevent channeling and improve extraction. Its compact size also makes it a convenient tool for on-the-go brewing, with some models measuring as small as a lipstick. While the WDT tool is a valuable tool for home baristas, it is not the only tool that can improve espresso quality. Another popular tool is the espresso scale, which allows for precise measurement of coffee grounds and water. While the scale can aid in achieving consistency in espresso shots, it does not address the issue of uneven distribution, which the WDT tool can effectively solve. In comparison, the WDT tool can provide a more comprehensive solution to achieving a consistently high-quality espresso shot. When it comes to choosing the best WDT tool espresso, the Lelit Mara X stands out as a top contender. This fully adjustable tool allows for customization based on the number, shape, and strength of needles, as well as the overall material. Its thinner 10+10 needles, made of food-safe stainless steel and measuring 0.35mm in diameter, are the perfect size to break up clumps and ensure even distribution. Additionally, the Lelit Mara X is designed to be the last WDT espresso you will ever need, with its durability and adjustability. Investing in high-quality tools like the Lelit Mara X can significantly improve the quality of your espresso shots, making your home brewing experience more enjoyable and rewarding.

[2handsslan]

charles leclerc | cl16 fic recs

———————————— 🏎️🏎️ ————————————

one shots

home is wherever you are - @katsu28

“secretly falling in love with your best friend is tough. secretly falling in love with your best friend who also happens to be your roommate is even less than ideal. the solution? move out!”

the honorary wag - @harrysfolklore

“yn has always been known as 'the honorary wag', since she's kika's best friend and adored by all the other wags, but what happens when the girls want her to become an official wag? a bet to get her and charles together before kika and pierre's wedding sounds like a plan”

feels like sabotage - @5sospenguinqueen

“the grid have decided that this is the season to see who can injure yn the most. (not intentionally, they all feel terrible about it). fed up of seeing his girlfriend injured, charles decides to enact revenge”

after all - @scuderiahoney

“charles is a lot of things. he’s determined, hardworking, a bit of a self sacrificing dumbass. he’s kind, talented, humble, confident, soft. he’s your best friend, your closest confidant, the person you would trust with your life. and, according to everyone who’s ever seen the two of you together, he’s madly in love with you”

sign here… wait, what?! - @neferaskingdom

“two strangers hit the courthouse for a ticket and a typo fix—next thing you know, they’re accidentally married. chaos, a clerk who couldn’t care less, and a fiancée on the verge of a meltdown, convinced it’s all some evil plot. spoiler: it’s not”

it’s not you, it’s your pants - @neferaskingdom

“girl roasts charles leclerc’s tragic pants online, then accidentally crashes into him in monaco. cue spilled coffee, fashion rants, and an existential crisis about how her life turned into a wattpad fanfic in under five minutes”

accidental interactions- @inevesgf

“in which you and charles can’t stop running into each other after one minor incident”

series

a house, a home series - @vetteltea

“a loveless marriage usually comes after years, not before. you've always loved him, his best friend has always loved you”

deal series - @golden-cherry

“your whole life has gone to shit. your boyfriend broke up with you, you just lost your job and the monegasque, who suddenly stands in your doorway, claims that it's his apartment”

the winner takes all series - @silverstonesainz

“one win, one loss. how does it all unfold, and how will it all come together?”

the smallest man who ever lived series - @monzabee

“the one where you’re thrown into a conundrum when you learn the news of your husband, charles’, infidelity”

smau

the chapter of charles - @l4nd0n0rr1s - smau

“in which charles leclerc falls in love with y/n the booktuber”

ferrari at heart - @fastandcarlos - smau

“as your interest in f1 grows, so does your interest in a certain ferrari driver”

wrong number - @ham1lton - smau

“nothing. maybe just ignore my awful photoshop skills. also is this based on a real interaction of mine? yes. this is just a crackfic, don’t take it seriously at all please”

notes - @hugleclerc - smau

"lando's sister starts posting notes she gets from a secret boy"

the king of monza can do what he wants - @astonmartinii - smau

"the king of monza can win the race, have his relationship exposed and challenge his soon-to-be father-in-law to a duel, he can do what he wants"

she devil - @norris55s - smau

“the one where y/n is charles' ice cold teammate, and she melts”

*these are part of my fic rec masterlist, please note none of these are written by me and the author of each story had been tagged! check out my f1 fic rec masterlist for other drivers!*

[goblinhoursinsomniaramblings]

I Know Those Eyes, Part 1

one dramatic in-universe reveal per chapter, let's go!

writing based purely on vibes, but i do have an actual plot brewing.

@grimdarling69 made more feel free to dm things you might want different

Prologue here

Tim had been the first to see the shape of his family’s future collective stress nightmares.

He’d been right there, after all. He had been asleep in the Batcave when Damian had decided to… he’d been right there, waking up to a single chance, loud noise Damian normally would have never made, with a chance to stop him, bring him to the others, talk it out, find a solution to whatever Luthor had been planning with concentrated Lazarus water. But he hadn’t woken up fast enough.

He had nightmares about that night for years. Sometimes, he knows exactly what’s going to happen and lets it happen anyway. Sometimes, he gets Damian to promise he’ll talk it out, only for him to run when Tim’s back is turned. The worst are the ones where he stops him, and everything works out for the best, and Tim wakes up and remembers what actually happened. Sometimes, he wakes up after getting to see Damian grow up, take on a new mantle, and haze a new Robin.

He always dismissed those dreams as filtering a fresh wave of grief through his knowledge of forensic analysis. He’d seen both Talia and Bruce, therefore he could map rough predictions of what he would grow up to look like, once he hit various milestones. It was all academic, since he would never get the chance to prove what he would have… been.

At least up until Oracle called him to verify something.

(“Red Robin, I need a judgment call.”

“A judgment call? Seriously? What exactly is stopping you from sending this to–”

“Luthor might be alive again. Check the footage I’ve sent you.”)

And… sure enough… here Tim was, three cups of coffee into an all-nighter, manually highlighting every shot in the security camera footage he’d been sent of a visiting CEO of a new tech startup that showed the man’s features. Which, actually, weren’t a lot, but once he started going through them all–yeah, that was Luthor alright. Same build, same face, the only thing that son of a bitch did was grow hair.

Like that wouldn’t have been the first disguise anyone who saw Lex Luthor would have suggested. Hair! Long, practically a lion’s mane of the stuff, tied into a low ponytail, with one of those chin beard things to hide the shape of his face more! All of it silvered by age and possible Lazarus contamination, and he hated that Luthor might purposely be affecting a ‘silver fox’ look.

And the worst part is it would have worked if anyone had removed him from the high priority list for being flagged for recognition. Tim almost had, but… Lazarus water. A mysterious death around concentrated Lazarus water. And apparently he had been, once again, completely right!

Tim had been furious by the time he’d combed through enough angles of his face getting out of a sleek black car to confirm, without a doubt, who he was. But then, the passenger side door had opened. All his anger had become shock. His hands shook as he opened a different, far more heavily encrypted profile.

Damian Wayne, priority 0.

Almost nothing came back an exact match, of course. The growth between 14 and 18 would have affected every feature, and the footage wasn’t nearly good enough to lift a retinal pattern or fingerprint from a distance (he noted the black gloves and mirrored shades blocking both), not to mention forensic prediction wasn’t an exact science, and beyond all of that, he could be totally wrong and Luthor was hauling out a clone, or a doppelgänger-

But as each feature lined up in his predictive model, as he watched the young man get out, brusquely close his door, and fall in at Luthor’s side without a word, a (surprisingly slight, far closer to Talia than Bruce) shadow falling into his wake like it was old habit, Tim felt certain he was right. He was certain he had dreamed of a world where Damian lived long enough to have that exact face. He called Oracle back.

“Hey, Oracle? I need a judgment call.”

***

It had taken minutes for Vlad and Danny to begin calling each other by their original names again. It had taken far longer, however, to get back to a familiar dynamic.

Oh, in the short term, it hadn’t been a problem at all. However, it was simply a matter of fact they had both led very different lives before remembering who they were meant to be. Vlad’s disgust at who he had been had colored much of his early days reclaiming his ghost half, and Daniel…

A childhood as a trained assassin had not been kind on the boy. Parts of Damian Al Ghul had needed to be chipped away over these last few years, most especially the fear of the League of Assassins that still hummed through him. Thankfully, Vlad had some help on that front and oh flaky pastry he was smiling again-

Though on second thought he supposed a warm and fatherly smile would help distance himself from ‘Lex’ Luthor. Yes, Lionel Vladimir Luthor, CEO and founder of VladCo, would be a man of warmth and fatherly compassion, and absolutely no one would suspect how thoroughly he could destroy them until they had dared to cross the line.

“You know we passed a dozen security cameras, right?” came a quiet voice to his left, the young man’s eyes flashing an even brighter green on occasion behind the shaded glasses he used to mask as Vlad’s bodyguard.

Oh, Daniel. So paranoid these days.

“Really? I only counted eight,” he replied, as the two of them were waved in by the desk clerk of their hotel.

“You’re not being creative enough with the word ‘security’. We’re meeting investors with ties to organized crime.”

Ah. So they were connected to weapons instead of larger networks of cameras. Classic Gotham City logic. Why only be corrupt, when you could be corrupt and violent? Though, it wasn’t as if he and his companion had to be careful anymore.

It had taken years to get to this point. Reclaiming their ghost halves, their powers, their lairs, their titles–their many, many titles, in Daniel’s case. Not to mention dear Daniela and Dante had taken years to recover, were still recovering, really, but at least now they could be comfortable staying with a substitute caregiver-

“Oh, any word from Frostbite?” he asked absently as he plugged the number code into the elevator to bypass the purposefully broken button for their intended floor. He had never encountered these kinds of silly little spy games after regaining his memories, it was almost endearingly pointless now.

“Nothing critical,” Daniel said with a small smile as they found their way to their specific unmarked door.

That meant there were pictures. Well. Good reason to get this nonsense done quickly. He raised a hand to knock.

“Game face, badger. We have a foundation to lay here.”

“Right back at you, frootloop,” said Daniel, slipping back into the resting scowl of his new childhood.

Honestly. Spy games. Next to what he and Daniel had planned?

Minor leagues.

***

-dramatic reveal in this chapter: the lazarus tech event brought back its victims.

-i don’t want to spoil their whole plan here but they’ve got obsessions to feed that are aligning super well right now and vlad wants to take the opportunity to show he cares and ruthlessly fuck over people who have personally wronged daniel/damian along the way.

-yes i am referencing the name used by luthor's father in the tv show, but in practice i'm referring to the time superman died and luthor pretended to be his own son, replete with luxurious hair.

[fanaticsnail]

I’m so glad the asks are working again 😭😭🎉🎉 hugs to you 🫂🫂 Okay, so I more have a... A fic in the making.

(Inhales)

IamwritingRosinantexReader&DoflamingoxReaderwheretheficstartsinthetwoweeksbeforeMinionIslandandRosinantetakesLawtoyouwhoishiswifeandthefirstpartoftheficisfocusedonyouLaw&RosinanteoverthetwoweeksandafterRosinantediesDoflamingofindsouthisbrotherismarriedandthatyou'repregnantwithRosinante'schild(thosetwoweekswerethetimeframeofconception)sonowDoflamingospeedrunstheGrandLinetogetaccesstoyoubecausehewantstobeapresentfigureinthechild'slifehebecomeswarlordandgetsthefiveelderstogivehimpermissiontospendtimewithyouduringyourpregnancyandhegoeswithyouonultrasounds,onEVERYTHINGcompletelyforceshimselfintoyourlifeandfallsinlovewithyou. Theficevencoverspostchildbirth,evenpartsasthechildgrowsup. DoflamingoisliterallyreadytosquareuptoTsuruherselftogetyouandthebabytolivewithhimit'sfuckingcrazyIwasscreamingthewholetimesomeonestopthepinkbirdmanReaderisliterallyexhaustedfromchildbirthinthehospitalroomwithherandRosi'sbabywhilethatcrazyflamingoisARGUINGwiththemarines. PrettysureI'llwriteReaderbreakingdownandcryingfromthestresspostchildbirthcusit'stoomuchstimulantforher-

What I find troubling is the fic title itself. It's based on a line Doflamingo says to Reader somewhere in the middle of the fic, but I realised the overall fic is already getting too long so I decided to split it into Rosinante's part & Doflamingo's part, so Part 1 & Part 2. But if I title part 1 with those words Doflamingo says (the title has a brother mention) people may think when reading Part 1 it's Rosinante who is feeling jealous of his brother, but it's actually the other way around. I don't know how to tag the fic for relationship. Only part 1 is Rosinante x Reader and mostly told in the form of flashbacks from Little Law's POV. I don't want to misdirect readers by tagging part 1 as Doflamingo x Reader but the overall fic when put together has more of Doflamingo x Reader than of Rosinante x Reader.

Any, um... Suggestions, solutions? Never sent a real fic on tumblr, and my AO3 account has a different name alltogether so I can't send it there, really. Part 1 is nearly complete (little Law my baby 😭😭) yet I keep adding more and breaking my own heart help. I did think of making it a one shot but I like the scenes to breathe.

Hugs to you, Snail, and hope you have a great day! 🫂🫂❤️

- @physics-of-one-piece

YOU'RE WRITING A ROSI X READER X DOFFY FIC I AM SAT, PHYSICS!!!

Okay, I also very much struggle with titles. If it is something Doffy does say to reader in a later chapter, I don't think it truly would concern much in the part one aspect. If the relationship comes in later, I would add a little disclaimer in the 'themes' part. I like to do a little summary, themes to expect, and notes when I write. I don't know why, but it's what I do.

THE WAY I AM SO EXCITED TO READ THIS ITS INSANE.

My asks are working again, I am going to attempt to get through them while I'm working again (sporadic employment, double booked myself again, doing musician things, send help via coffee and wine, I am overwhelmed).

My advice when writing something like this, especially with characters that you love, is to keep going until you feel in your heart it's time to stop. If your One-Shot turns into a series, so be it. The stories that I've done that ended up this way was "You Kissed The Clown?" and "Shameless". They felt like they needed to be a series.

If Doffy and Rosi are holding you hostage until you tell this story, tell it 🙏🖤. I will read anything you write, my dear.

I REREAD THE SYNOPSIS DEEP BREATH AGAIN AND I AM JUST AAAAAAAAAAA

[gumnut-logic]

Sweetapple Slices - Slice 3

Sweetapple | Dear Mr Tracy | Along the way | Slice 1 | Slice 2 | Slice 3

@idontknowreallywhy asked:

What is a childhood meal your character cherishes?

...and this happened.

Many thanks to both @onereyofstarlight and @katblu42 for both the inspiration and for editing help :D

This one is based before @womble1 's Extra Sweetapple and leads up to a small mention made in that fic. Thanks for the staring point :D This also means this is based before these two knuckleheads became a couple. It's also a little bit crack.

I hope you enjoy.

-o-o-o-

Virgil reached around Alex’s back and nabbed himself a chocolate.

He’d held off as long as possible as really he needed a full meal, planned to have one, and snacking, while a staple in the field, was something he had a tendency to control when it wasn’t needed.

But he’d dropped in on Alex today, straight off a rescue with an idea. It wasn’t a major one, just a little one that might help fix the issue Alex had been having with the micro-plastic contamination.

That had been an hour and a half ago and several eureka moments since. Now it was the middle of the afternoon, after a far too early morning - thank god for the coffee kit on Two - and really, his blood needed sugar, after all.

Alex himself was well into his creative zone and Virgil couldn’t help but smile.

But then he had been engrossed himself not thirty seconds ago and it was only his lunch deprived stomach that was distracting him.

Alex usually had something lying about somewhere. The engineer had offered him some of the chocolates earlier, but Virgil thought he would be okay.

Apparently not.

So he nabbed one and threw it into his mouth in the hope it would shut his stomach up long enough to finish the calculations that might, just might lead them both to a solution.

The chocolate melted in his mouth and his shoulders relaxed just a little.

But then whatever was inside the chocolate touched his taste buds.

It was a chemical. That was all he could think of to describe it. Rubber? Some kind of soft plastic? In any case, whatever it was, it was revolting.

“You okay?”

Virgil nodded while trying not to choke on whatever the hell was in his mouth.

Alex frowned at him even more.

Okay, whatever it was, it needed removal. He shot to his feet glanced around the room until he found a box of tissues, grabbed one, and turning his back to Alex, spat it into the tissue.

Wiping his mouth and running his tongue over his teeth, he chucked the wad of tissue into the bin and grabbed the remains of his cold coffee, shoving it down his throat.

Alex by this time was on his feet, worry in every movement. “Virgil?”

“I’m fine.” He needed more coffee. He could still feel that weird texture in his mouth. “Want some coffee?”

Alex opened his mouth-

“I’ll go get some. Back in a minute.” He didn’t flee the room. No, he walked calmly to the door and exited quietly, in no way indicating he wanted to scrub his mouth out with a wire brush.

A short trip out to Thunderbird Two and a quick mug of coffee while he waited for a couple more to brew, and he was back in the lab with some steaming liquid of the gods in no time.

Unfortunately, Alex was still staring at him.

“What was that?”

“What was what?” He hid behind his coffee cup.

“That?” Alex waved at the door.

“I got you some coffee.”

Alex was still staring at him.

“What?”

Alex’s eyebrows dropped into enough of a flat-eyed ‘I’m not an idiot’ glare, that yes, Virgil had to own up.

“Your chocolates, what are they?”

“Huh? Oh.” Alex reached over and grabbed them, offering the bowl to Virgil. “Pineapple lumps. Want one?”

Virgil held up his hand. “No. Thank you for asking.”

Alex shrugged, grabbed one and threw it into his mouth.

Virgil didn’t wince. No, he didn’t.

“You don’t like chocolate?”

“I love chocolate.”

The bowl was offered to him again. Now he was smelling whatever they were made of.

His stomach twisted.

“You don’t like pineapple lumps?”

He forced a casual shrug. “Not my thing, I guess.”

“So you’ve tried them?”

“Yeah.”

To his dismay, Alex threw another one into his mouth. “They were my dad’s favourites. Bit of a tradition, particularly now he is no longer with us.” Alex shifted where he sat.

Virgil looked down at nothing in particular. “Yeah, traditions are important.”

There was silence a moment while Virgil thought of things that had kept his family afloat while Dad had been missing.

He looked up at Alex. “Are they your favourites?”

Alex looked down at the third pineapple lump in his hand. Virgil tried not to shudder.

“Yeah, I like them.”

Note to self: buy some pineapple lumps for Alex.

“But honestly, I prefer real pineapple.”

Note to self: buy pineapples for Alex.

“And the ultimate is really pineapple ice cream. Now that, that’s my favourite.”

Note to self: find and buy pineapple ice cream for Alex.

“So you’re a pineapple on the pizza kind of guy?”

Alex’s expression shifted to one of horror. “Pineapple on a pizza? You speak blasphemy!” But then Alex was smiling. “No, not my thing. You?”

Note to self: never put pineapple on pizza ever again.

“Of course not.”

“You’re sure? I’m sensing a little Hawaiian vibe here. No shame if you’re on the other side of the debate. You can still be my friend.” Alex was grinning.

Virgil liked the idea of being Alex’s friend. “No pineapple on the pizzas. Got it.” He returned the grin. “Just don’t tell Gordon.”

“Uh oh. You mean-“

“Yes, he’s pineapple all the way.”

“Weirdo.”

Virgil smiled. “Definitely.”

-o-o-o-

[unsolicitedadvicecatlady]

Part II of Negotiating with a terrorist

***If you haven't read part one, go to my blog, scroll down a bit, and read it. You're almost guaranteed to get an undesirable outcome if you fail to use these concepts in concert with one another.***

The ultimate goal in any negotiation should be to establish a solid foundation and foster a cooperative, long-term, and mutually beneficial relationship of collaboration.

A good collaboration involves a combined effort in the acquisition of a mutual desire, as well as the joint aim of expanding the understanding of what that desire might evolve to be across time.

When negotiating, you're faced with two different aspects of the same problem, and if you collaborate you might come to a better outcome. It's not possible to know the best outcome because you don't have all the facts. Go in with an open mind and do it in a way that this person wants to talk with you again.

When negotiating, you're aiming to understand the other person's desires and being transparent about your own. The goal is to create a shared vision and plan a mutually satisfying path forward that both parties will willingly follow. Ideally, this leads to a lasting, reciprocal relationship. It's also important to recognize if the other person is not interested in achieving this outcome.

There are no foes, only friends waiting to happen. It doesn't matter if you think the guy on the other side of the table is the worst human being that every crawled on the face of the earth. They're a human being, and you must realize this. If you think about it as "us vs. them" you might as well hang up and call it a day, because you're not going to make a deal here.

If your biggest fear is "no," you can't negotiate. If you're dead set on what you want and you're not willing to be open to other possibilities, you've already turned this into a lose-lose scenario.

Listen to your gut, not your amygdala. When dealing with a high-conflict or overly aggressive counterpart it's easy to get swept up in emotion and start thinking with your limbic brain. Our whole body thinks. Gut feelings are important to listen to. If something feels off, there's a good chance it's not just your coffee talking back to you, something might actually require further inquisition and clarification.

Stay emotionally unattached and unavailable for manipulation. When you're letting your emotions call the shots, all kinds of problems can occur. Detach emotionally and stay in your logical brain. If you're caught up in emotions, you need to take a step back because you're about to make a big mistake.

Principles before personalities. Separate the people from the problems. Avoid falling into the trap of putting your counterpart into a box labeled "problem." If you think of this person as part of the problem, there is no solution to this problem because you're not going to fix, manage, or control other people's behavior.

Remain clinical, analytical, and pragmatic. Stay detached from the outcome and the emotionality of the circumstances and treat this like you're an analyst discussing hypotheticals with a colleague. This will help you remove your own emotional hang-ups and keep you from making any decisions based solely on feelings.

Unconditional positive regard. Become resolute in your intention to treat your counterpart with respect under any conditions. See their humanity, even if you have to dig through a lot of layers of ego to get to it. When in doubt, go back to the Golden Rule: treat others the way you want to be treated.

Before going in guns blazing, ask:

What is their vision of the future?

How does it affect their identity?

What kind of losses are they looking at?

What is important to them?

"Do you see what I see?" Your counterpart is only interested in what you have to say if you actually understand where they're coming from first, and you articulate that without a shadow of a doubt. If you don't see what they see the way they see it, then you don't understand where they're coming from and anything you have to say is irrelevant to them.

"How are you going to help me?" Your counterpart is only interested in how you're going to help them. If you can see the problem from their perspective and get creative about how you're going to help them with your mutual problem, you've got a much better shot at reaching a solution you can both live with.

Series of "no" questions. Ask them questions you want a "no" answer to that reflects their perspective. This lets them know you've been listening and are here to help. People are more willing to give a "no" than a "yes," so, utilize this and get them thinking about the possibility of working with you instead of against you.

Summarize why they're doing what they are doing using empathy and respect; validate their experience. When you've got a pretty good understanding of what they're after and why they're doing what they're doing, let them know that by empathetically reiterating the points they've made. Use deference and tact but avoid condoning or excusing their methods.

Keep the person separate from the problem. Get them out of that box you've labeled "problem" and get them thinking about working with you on solving your mutual problem with teamwork. There's a good chance this person just wants to be understood, validated, and respected. If you've already laid the groundwork for this, you're in a much better position to get a positive outcome.

Negotiate not position-focused but interest-oriented. You've gained their respect by respecting them. You've let them know that you see the problem from their perspective. You've expressed interest in helping them solve the problem by working together. Now focus on your interests and avoid digging your heels in and being stubborn on a point.

This is not an all-inclusive step-by-step guide. Use your neocortex and do your research before attempting to enter a high-stakes negotiation. You need tools, tactics, and techniques. The same level of understanding it took to get to the problem will not aid in solving the problem.

Remember, this isn't about a temporary fix, but a way of interacting with people, regardless of circumstances, that ensures you are doing the best you can with what you have to maintain a peaceful and cooperative environment for getting things done.

A tool is only as ethical as the one who wields it. You can use information to help or hurt. Don't be an asshole and do what you can for others.

[ao3feed-crimeboys]

I’m Only Honest When it Rains

by FractalFiction

Wilbur scrubbed at the counter, tongue sticking out as he tried to wipe off the stain on the counter. He wasn’t sure when this stain appeared -clearly long enough to settle in. Wilbur sprayed the stain once more with a cleaning solution, using his cleaning rag and pushing all his weight onto the stain like that would somehow get it to come off.

He lifted up the rag, sighing with relief before throwing it around a hook. It was nearly closing time. Only about 15 minutes until 10 pm.

Wilbur sat down, drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited. Technically, he was the owner of the shop. He could just close up a little early. Most people don’t come to coffee shops this late.

He must have jinxed himself because as soon as the thought came into his mind, the ringing of the bell above his store door grew much louder.

Or, Wilbur Soot is a lonely man who doesn’t believe he can love. SBI prove him wrong.

Words: 14003, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 54 of Fractal’s One Shots

Fandoms: Minecraft (Video Game), Dream SMP

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Wilbur Soot, TommyInnit (Video Blogging RPF), Phil Watson | Philza, Technoblade (Video Blogging RPF)

Relationships: Wilbur Soot & TommyInnit, Wilbur Soot & Phil Watson | Philza, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade, Wilbur Soot & Technoblade & TommyInnit & Phil Watson

Additional Tags: Wilbur Soot-centric, Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Soulmates adjacent, Platonic Relationships, Protective Wilbur Soot, Sad Wilbur Soot, Wilbur Soot Needs a Hug, All of SBI needs a hug, Wilbur Soot Gets a Hug, Found Family, Sleepy Bois Inc as Family, Good Parent Phil Watson (Video Blogging RPF), Wilbur Soot and Technoblade and TommyInnit are Siblings, Self-Doubt, Self-Worth Issues, Hurt/Comfort, Platonic Cuddling, Fluff, Happy Ending, Fic based on the song Neptune by Sleeping at Last

[river3000]

TW: Brief mention of suicide (it’s mentioned once in two sentences at the end.)

Five years ago, it seemed like a good idea to Liase to choose her power to be able to see when someone will die. Her friends chose things that were more practical or were the traditional powers that lots of other people had. Her best friend chose shapeshifting, and when she visited her family over the holidays she found out that three of her cousins had too. She knew ten people who could fly.

Of course Liase knew people with unusual superpowers as well, but not lots. Her older brother could see who everyone’s soulmate is, and another regular at the coffee shop she goes to that she had talked to a few times could know what your favorite musical was by looking at you for two seconds. Liase surprisingly only knew of one person who chose to be an actual psychic, a woman who lives in Vermont and drive the industry into the ground but made millions.

Liase’s friends and family all had far off numbers above their heads, three decades at least. She never told someone when they would die, Liase thought it to be a morally grey decision, and she was not big on morally grey unless it was in book characters.

She never saw a number change, and she never had a number. Liase was okay with that, she didn’t want to know when she would die. She was content with her work in biology, and she had come to terms with death and what it meant. Liase never believed in an after life.

Liase was surprised when the font and the text of the number over the head of her co-workers willing test subject (for the outlandish experiment of causing immortality of the human race) suddenly changed…

10 years…

50 years…

100 years…

Never…

Liase had never seen that, she knew that she was placed as his assistant because of her power. She had watched him try many solutions but none had worked until the shot that he had just administered.

Her co-worker saw her face, he knew what she knew. That his life’s dream had finally become reality.

But through the course of eternity, as the shot became something administered to everyone at birth, there would always be one thing that captured everyone’s attention in the story about this discovery.

Liase was the first person to know that humans could live forever.

And throughout eternity everyone would wonder why a week later, after the announcement of the shot was made. On the day before Liase was supposed to get her shot she was found dead. And they would wonder why she had ended her own life.

But few would recognize that what this girl’s life had been based on had shifted, and that what everyone saw as an amazing gift had become a curse.

Not every power that was viewed as good (in this case because it had helped change humanity forever) could be viewed as horrible in the eyes of the beholder. Because good and bad are interchangeable.

One day, magically, everyone across the world was given a superpower of their choice. Now, 5 years later, it seems your unconventional choice is paying off far more in life than your flying, super strong and mind reading friends.

[anagha2345]

Espresso Machines

If you’re a coffee lover, having an espresso machine at home is a game-changer. Whether you crave a strong shot of espresso, a frothy cappuccino, or a velvety latte, the right espresso machine can help you craft café-quality drinks from the comfort of your kitchen. At Somethings Brewing, we specialize in providing premium coffee equipment that allows you to enjoy professional-level coffee at home.

Why Invest in an Espresso Machine?

Investing in an espresso machine for your home is more than just buying a kitchen appliance—it’s about elevating your coffee experience. Espresso is the base for most popular coffee drinks, including lattes, cappuccinos, and macchiatos. With the right machine, you can perfect your espresso shots and enjoy high-quality drinks whenever you like.

Types of Espresso Machines for Home Use

There are different types of espresso machines, each offering unique features and capabilities. Here’s a breakdown of the most popular options for home brewers:

1. Manual Espresso Machines

Manual espresso machines give you full control over your brew. They require you to manually operate the machine, giving you an authentic espresso-making experience. While they demand some skill, they allow you to perfect every shot and adjust the process to your liking.

2. Semi-Automatic Espresso Machines

Semi-automatic espresso machines are a popular choice for home brewers because they balance ease of use with control. They automate the brewing process but still require you to grind and tamp the coffee grounds. This makes them ideal for those who want a bit of hands-on involvement without the complexity of manual machines.

3. Fully Automatic Espresso Machines

Fully automatic espresso machines are great for those who want a hassle-free experience. With these machines, you simply add coffee beans, and the machine takes care of the grinding, tamping, brewing, and even milk frothing. They are perfect for busy coffee lovers who prefer convenience without compromising on quality.

4. Super-Automatic Espresso Machines

For ultimate convenience, super-automatic espresso machines are the way to go. These machines automate every step, from grinding beans to brewing the coffee and even frothing the milk. They’re perfect for those who want a one-touch coffee solution.

Choosing the Right Espresso Machine for Your Home

When selecting an espresso machine, consider the following factors:

Your skill level: Are you a beginner or an experienced home barista?

Space: How much room do you have in your kitchen for a machine?

Price range: Espresso machines range in price, so choose one that fits your budget.

Convenience vs. control: Do you want a hands-on brewing experience or the convenience of automation?

At Somethings Brewing, we offer a curated collection of espresso machines suited to every need and skill level, from beginner-friendly automatic machines to more advanced manual models.

Why Shop for Espresso Machines at Somethings Brewing?

At Somethings Brewing, we are passionate about bringing professional-grade coffee equipment to your home. Our selection of espresso machines is carefully chosen to ensure quality, durability, and ease of use. We offer machines from top global brands and provide expert advice to help you select the perfect model for your needs.

👉 Explore our full range of Espresso Machines 👉 Check out our coffee grinders and milk frothers to complete your home barista setup.

Final Thoughts

An espresso machine is an essential tool for any serious coffee enthusiast. Whether you're looking for full control over your brew or a hands-off experience, there's a machine that fits your needs. Investing in a high-quality espresso machine will help you create café-quality drinks from the comfort of your home.

Ready to start brewing better coffee? Visit Somethings Brewing today to explore our selection of espresso machines and other premium coffee equipment.

[sweatyrebelgentlemen]

Hydrate Smarter: The Power of Oral Rehydration Solutions

Dehydration sneaks up fast, leaving you tired and foggy. Water helps, but it’s not always enough. An oral rehydration solution steps in where plain water falls short. It restores fluids and electrolytes quickly. Let’s explore why this method beats basic hydration every time.

Your body loses more than water when you sweat or drink alcohol. Sodium, potassium, and magnesium vanish, too. This imbalance triggers headaches and cramps. Plain water can’t replace those minerals. Revival Shots, for example, delivers a science-backed mix. It hydrates faster and keeps you balanced.

Why Water Alone Isn’t Enough

Sweating or a night out dehydrates you deeply. Alcohol suppresses a hormone that retains water. You flush out fluids and electrolytes overnight. Water rehydrates slowly without minerals. An oral rehydration solution fixes this gap. It mimics your body’s natural balance.

Studies show electrolytes speed up fluid absorption. Revival Shots uses a formula inspired by World Health Organization standards. It’s three times more effective than water alone. Users feel the difference—less fatigue, more focus. Don’t settle for slow recovery when you can hydrate smart.

Oral Rehydration Solutions: How They Work

These solutions combine water, salts, and sometimes glucose. They pull fluids into your bloodstream fast. Dehydration from exercise or illness hits hard. Revival Shots adds vitamins B and C for an energy lift. Mix a sachet with water and drink. Results kick in quickly.

Timing boosts their power. Sip one during a workout or after drinks. Before bed, down another to recover overnight. It’s simple and portable—no excuses needed. The plant-based blend skips artificial junk. You get clean, effective hydration every time.

Benefits Beyond Recovery

Oral rehydration isn’t just for emergencies. It upgrades daily wellness, too. Struggling to drink enough water? Add flavor and function with a sachet. Athletes use it to recharge post-training. Travelers fight jet lag with it. Revival Shots fits any hydration need.

Your body is 60% water—keeping it balanced matters. Low energy or brain fog signals dehydration. An oral rehydration solution tackles these issues fast. Users report better stamina and clarity. It’s a natural boost without caffeine overload.

Oral Rehydration Solutions vs. Sports Drinks

Not all hydration drinks are equal. Sports drinks often pack sugar and little else. Oral rehydration solutions focus on science, not sweetness. Revival Shots offers high electrolytes and low calories. It’s designed to prevent dehydration, not just mask it.

Customers love the taste—orange or berry options shine. One said, “It’s my go-to after a long day.” Another praised its speed: “I feel normal in 30 minutes.” The 6-pack option keeps you stocked. It’s a smarter choice for real results.

How to Use Them Right

Prevention beats scrambling for a cure. Drink an oral rehydration solution before dehydration hits. During a hot day, sip one mid-activity. After alcohol, take it before sleep. Revival Shots makes it easy—just tear, pour, and go. No blender or mess required.

Don’t rely on coffee or sugary sodas. Caffeine dehydrates you further. Stick to a formula built for recovery. Revival’s mix is award-winning for a reason. It’s the UK’s top hydration powder, backed by happy users.

Why Choose Revival Shots?

Revival Shots stands out in a crowded market. It’s high-potency, low-sugar, and effective. The money-back guarantee removes all risk. Taste and convenience seal the deal. Stock up with a 6-pack and hydrate smarter.

Dehydration doesn’t have to slow you down. With oral rehydration solutions, you stay ahead. Revival Shots delivers fast, reliable relief. Try it next time you need a lift. Your body will thank you.

[screenmobile]

How to Waterproof a 3-Season Room?

You know that feeling when sitting in your three-season room, sipping coffee, watching the rain pour down—only to realize the wind sent a cold splash of water right onto your feet? Yeah, not the vibe.

Three-season rooms are great for extending your outdoor living space without going full-on sunroom (or breaking the bank), but they’ve got one flaw: they aren’t built to handle hardcore weather. That’s fine in spring and fall, but winter and summer? That’s when things get tricky.

So, if you’re tired of feeling like your relaxing retreat is turning into a leaky wind tunnel, let’s talk about waterproofing. And don’t worry—I’ll keep it simple, practical, and doable, even if you’re not exactly the DIY king or queen.

What’s the Problem?

Before we throw solutions at the wall (and hopefully not watch them drip down with the next rainstorm), let’s figure out where the water is coming in.

Leaky windows and doors – Gaps, old weather stripping, or poorly sealed frames can let water sneak in.

The floor situation – Concrete or wood floors can soak up moisture if not properly sealed.

Walls and ceiling – Thin materials (or screens) mean rain and humidity can creep through.

Condensation – Sometimes, it’s not even rain! Just good ol’ humidity turning into water inside your room.

Sound familiar? Good. Now let’s fix it.

Step 1: Upgrade Your Windows and Doors

You've probably felt the struggle if your three-season room has screens or single-pane glass. They do great in mild weather but aren’t exactly watertight. If rain and wind are regular intruders, it’s time to upgrade.

Storm windows: These give you an extra barrier against water and wind without permanently closing off the space.

Vinyl or acrylic panels: If you don’t want to go all-in with glass, these are solid alternatives.

Weatherstripping: A cheap but effective fix for sealing gaps around doors and windows. (Seriously, don’t underestimate it—$10 can make a huge difference!)

Door sweeps: If water tends to pool near the base of your door, a door sweep can help keep it out.

If your windows are fine but the seals around them are shot, grab a tube of clear silicone caulk and reseal them. Five minutes of work, and you’ve just saved yourself a headache.

Step 2: Seal That Floor

Now, let’s talk about what’s under your feet. If your three-season room has a concrete or wooden floor, it can absorb moisture, making everything feel damp. And if you’ve got rugs? Oh, buddy. That’s a breeding ground for mold and musty smells.

How to Fix It:

For concrete floors: Apply a concrete sealer to stop moisture from seeping through. (Look for a waterproofing sealant at your local hardware store.)

For wood floors: Use a waterproof sealant like polyurethane to protect them.

For carpeted floors: If possible, ditch the carpet in favor of an outdoor-friendly rug that won’t hold onto moisture.

I once ignored a damp spot near the corner of my three-season room, thinking, “Eh, it’s fine.” Fast forward a few months—mold. Everywhere. Don’t be me. Seal your floors.

Step 3: Address the Walls & Ceiling

If your three-season room is mostly screens, you’re not going to “waterproof” it completely without converting it into a full sunroom. But if you’ve got solid walls and a roof, there are some things you can do to keep moisture at bay.

Some Ideas:

Install insulated panels: These help regulate temperature and keep humidity under control.

Use waterproof paint: If your walls are drywall or wood, a coat of waterproof paint adds an extra layer of defense.

Check the roof: Small leaks can turn into big problems, so make sure there are no gaps or missing shingles.

If you’re getting drips from the ceiling, grab a tube of roofing sealant and check around skylights, vents, or any seams.

Step 4: Tackle Humidity & Condensation

Ever noticed your windows fogging up or feeling like the air is just… damp? That’s humidity. And too much of it can make your waterproofing efforts pointless.

How to Control It:

Dehumidifier – A small, portable one works wonders in keeping the air dry.

Ventilation – Crack a window or install a small exhaust fan if the space gets too stuffy.

Plants – Some indoor plants (like peace lilies or ferns) naturally absorb moisture from the air.

If your three-season room is attached to your house, adding a ceiling fan can help keep air circulating, which reduces condensation.

Step 5: Check the Perimeter

Alright, you’ve sealed the windows, doors, and floors. But what if water is still creeping in? Time to check outside.

Gutters & Downspouts: Make sure they’re clean and directing water away from the house.

Grading: Water will pool if the ground slopes toward your three-season room. A little landscaping work can fix that.

Outdoor sealants: If you notice cracks around the foundation, seal them with exterior-grade caulk.

A clogged gutter can turn a simple drizzle into a mini waterfall outside your three-season room. Keep them clean!

Ready to Enjoy a Drier, Cozier Space?

Waterproofing your three-season room doesn’t mean turning it into a full-blown sunroom. A few strategic upgrades—better windows, proper sealing, and controlling humidity—can make a huge difference.

And if you’d rather have the pros handle it? Screenmobile of South Bend specializes in sunrooms, screen enclosures, three-season rooms, and more. Call them and let them do the hard work while you sit back and enjoy your (now dry) space.

[strangewhisperstriumph]

Liquid Energy Shots – The Best Liquid Energy Kratom Shots Online

Looking for a quick and powerful energy boost? Liquid energy shots are the perfect solution for those who need instant focus, stamina, and endurance without the hassle of mixing powders or taking multiple capsules. Among the many options available, liquid energy kratom shots stand out as a natural, plant-based alternative that provides both energy and well-being.

At King K Kratom, you’ll find premium liquid energy shots designed to deliver fast-acting and long-lasting effects. Whether you're powering through a long workday, studying for exams, or just need an extra push to get through your day, these shots offer a convenient and effective solution.

What Are Liquid Energy Kratom Shots?

Liquid energy shots are pre-mixed, concentrated doses of natural energy boosters designed for fast absorption and quick effects. Unlike traditional energy drinks, these shots are small, portable, and packed with powerful ingredients.

Liquid energy kratom shots, in particular, contain high-quality kratom extracts that provide natural stimulation, mental clarity, and mood enhancement. Unlike caffeine-based energy drinks that often cause jitters or crashes, kratom shots provide a smooth and sustained boost of energy.

Why Choose Liquid Energy Kratom Shots?

Fast-acting effects – No waiting for digestion; the liquid form absorbs quickly.

Highly concentrated formula – Stronger than traditional kratom powder or capsules.

Portable and easy to use – No mixing, measuring, or preparation needed.

Balanced energy boost – Avoid the jitters and crashes of synthetic energy drinks.

Benefits of Liquid Energy Shots

1. Instant Energy Boost

Liquid energy kratom shots provide an immediate burst of energy that helps you stay focused and alert. Perfect for long workdays, intense workouts, or any time you need a mental and physical lift.

2. Long-Lasting Effects

Unlike coffee or synthetic energy drinks that cause an energy crash, liquid energy kratom shots offer a smoother and longer-lasting experience. The natural alkaloids in kratom help maintain sustained energy without overstimulation.

3. Convenient & Easy to Consume

These shots come in small, portable bottles that you can carry anywhere. Whether you're at work, in the gym, or traveling, liquid energy shots are a hassle-free option.

4. Natural Mood Enhancement

Kratom is known for its mood-boosting properties, helping users feel motivated, positive, and mentally sharp. A kratom energy shot can help enhance your focus while also promoting relaxation when needed.

5. Alternative to Caffeine & Sugary Drinks

Most energy drinks are loaded with sugar and artificial stimulants, leading to a temporary high followed by a crash. Liquid energy kratom shots provide a natural and effective way to stay energized without negative side effects.

Where to Buy the Best Liquid Energy Kratom Shots?

If you want to buy high-quality liquid energy shots, King K Kratom is the go-to source for premium kratom extracts. Some of their top products include:

King K Gold Liquid – A powerful liquid energy kratom shot for fast and effective results.

King K Silver Liquid – A balanced kratom shot for energy, focus, and relaxation.

King K 7OH Cherry Slushy – A delicious and refreshing kratom energy shot.

King K Rush Diamond – One of the strongest liquid kratom shots available.

Each of these products is lab-tested, potent, and made with high-quality kratom extracts, ensuring maximum safety and effectiveness.

Final Thoughts

If you’re looking for an easy and effective way to stay energized, liquid energy shots are the perfect choice. Whether you're looking for a natural boost to power through your day or an alternative to caffeine-loaded energy drinks, liquid energy kratom shots offer a fast-acting, convenient, and long-lasting solution.

Shop the best liquid energy kratom shots today at King K Kratom and experience the difference in energy, focus, and overall well-being!

[ashish2345]

The Ultimate Guide to Choosing the Right Espresso Equipment for Your Home

For coffee enthusiasts, there's nothing quite like a freshly brewed espresso to kick-start the day. Whether you're an experienced barista or just starting to explore the world of espresso, having the right espresso equipment is essential to getting that perfect shot. With so many different types of espresso equipment available, it can be overwhelming to know which one is the best fit for your home. In this guide, we’ll walk you through the different types of espresso equipment, key features to look for, and how to make an informed decision based on your needs.

1. Understanding Your Espresso Preferences

Before you invest in espresso equipment, it’s important to assess your personal preferences. Ask yourself the following questions to help you decide what kind of espresso equipment suits you:

Questions to ask yourself:

Do I prefer the hands-on process of brewing espresso, or would I prefer an automated experience?

How often do I plan to make espresso? (Is it a daily ritual or an occasional treat?)

Do I want to make just espresso shots, or do I also want the option to make lattes, cappuccinos, or other espresso-based drinks?

What is my skill level with espresso brewing? Am I a beginner or an advanced user?

Once you have a clear idea of your preferences, you can narrow down the types of espresso equipment that will work best for you.

2. Types of Espresso Equipment

There are a few different types of espresso equipment that you can choose from depending on your brewing style and experience. Here’s an overview of the most common options:

Manual Espresso Machines

Manual espresso equipment offers the most control over the brewing process. With a manual machine, you’ll need to grind your coffee beans, tamp the coffee, and control the water pressure. These machines are perfect for those who want to get their hands dirty and master the art of espresso-making.

Pros:

Offers complete control over the brewing process

Great for espresso enthusiasts who want to fine-tune their shots

Can be less expensive than automated machines

Cons:

Requires more skill and knowledge to use properly

Can be time-consuming to brew each shot

Not ideal for beginners

Semi-Automatic Espresso Machines

Semi-automatic espresso equipment strikes a balance between control and convenience. These machines automate the brewing process but still require you to grind and tamp the coffee yourself. The machine will control the water pressure and extraction time for you.

Pros:

Provides a good balance between control and convenience

Ideal for intermediate espresso drinkers who want a bit of automation

Produces high-quality espresso shots with proper technique

Cons:

Requires some knowledge and skill to achieve optimal results

Less convenient than super-automatic machines

Manual grinding and tamping can still be time-consuming

Automatic Espresso Machines

Automatic espresso equipment simplifies the espresso brewing process even further by automating the grinding, tamping, and extraction. These machines are perfect for those who want high-quality espresso with minimal effort.

Pros:

Convenient, easy to use, and fast

Ideal for people who want consistent results every time

Often comes with built-in grinders and milk frothers for convenience

Cons:

Less customizable than manual or semi-automatic machines

Typically more expensive

Limited control over the brewing process

Super-Automatic Espresso Machines

Super-automatic espresso equipment is the most advanced option for home use. These machines handle everything—from grinding the beans and tamping the coffee to brewing and frothing milk—automatically at the press of a button. They’re perfect for anyone who wants the ultimate convenience.

Pros:

All-in-one solution for making espresso and espresso-based drinks

Extremely easy to use and very convenient

Produces consistent results with minimal effort

Cons:

Can be quite expensive

Lacks the ability to experiment with manual brewing techniques

Requires regular cleaning and maintenance

Espresso Pods and Capsule Machines

Espresso pod or capsule machines, such as Nespresso, use pre-packaged pods or capsules that contain pre-ground coffee. You simply insert a pod, press a button, and enjoy your espresso. These machines are perfect for those who want a quick and easy espresso with no fuss.

Pros:

Extremely easy to use, no mess or cleanup

Fast brewing time

Ideal for beginners or those who want a convenient option

Cons:

Limited to the available pod flavors and strengths

Pods can be expensive and less eco-friendly

Quality may not match that of freshly ground coffee

3. Key Features to Consider in Espresso Equipment

When choosing espresso equipment, there are several important features to consider. These features can affect the overall performance of your machine, as well as the quality of your espresso shots.

Grinder: A built-in grinder is a key feature to look for, as freshly ground coffee is essential for a great espresso. Some espresso machines come with high-quality grinders, while others require you to buy a separate grinder.

Pressure: The pressure used to extract the espresso is vital to the quality of your shot. Look for espresso equipment with a pressure of at least 9 bars, which is ideal for extracting the best flavor from your coffee.

Steam Wand: If you like lattes, cappuccinos, or macchiatos, a steam wand is an important feature to consider. This allows you to froth milk and create creamy, rich foam for your espresso drinks.

Size and Design: Consider the size of the espresso equipment based on the space available in your kitchen. Super-automatic machines tend to be larger and take up more space, while manual and semi-automatic machines are typically more compact.

Cleaning and Maintenance: Espresso equipment can require regular cleaning and descaling to maintain performance. Look for machines with easy-to-remove parts and self-cleaning functions to simplify maintenance.

Temperature Control: Some higher-end espresso machines come with precise temperature control, which is important for brewing espresso at the ideal temperature. Consistent water temperature ensures that you get the best flavor from your coffee grounds.

4. Conclusion

Choosing the right espresso equipment is a personal decision that depends on your preferences, skills, and budget. Whether you're looking for a manual machine that lets you take full control, a semi-automatic machine that offers a balance of convenience and quality, or a super-automatic machine that handles everything for you, there’s an option for every coffee lover. By understanding your needs and considering the key features of each type of espresso equipment, you can make an informed decision and enjoy cafe-quality espresso right in the comfort of your home.