#Hire Windows Developers
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softwarefrim · 4 months ago
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Hire Windows Developers
Transform your ideas into powerful apps! Hire Windows Developers from YES IT Labs and experience excellence in Windows software development. Talk to us now!
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bleaksqueak · 1 year ago
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realizing I did not letter the next page that goes up this week and that I have to do that still...
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bobsearthmoving · 22 days ago
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Transforming Construction Spaces: Why Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor Are Essential
In any construction or renovation project, the final result is what people usually focus on. The gleaming floors, the fresh paint, the modern fixtures — these are the things that catch the eye. But what many don’t see is the mess left behind once the builders pack up their tools. That’s where professional Builders Site Clean Lalor come in — making sure a construction site is not only safe and clean but ready for handover or occupancy.
The Importance of Post-Construction Cleaning
Construction and renovation work often leaves behind a trail of dust, debris, and unwanted materials. Timber scraps, nails, plaster dust, packaging, and even hazardous materials can clutter the space, making it unsafe and unappealing. This isn’t just an eyesore — it’s a potential hazard to workers, property owners, and even visitors.
Hiring professionals for Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor ensures that the area is thoroughly cleaned and cleared of all waste. It’s more than just sweeping the floors. These experts understand the process of detailed cleaning, which includes scrubbing surfaces, removing paint splashes, cleaning windows, and even polishing where necessary. They transform chaotic construction sites into livable, functional, and aesthetically pleasing environments.
Why Choose Professional Site Cleaning Services?
When it comes to site cleaning, many builders or developers may think about using their own team to finish the job. While this might seem cost-effective at first glance, it’s not the best approach in the long run. Specialized cleaning crews are trained to handle post-construction mess efficiently and safely. They also come equipped with the right tools and eco-friendly cleaning products to handle different types of surfaces and materials.
Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor offer a level of precision and attention to detail that goes beyond what a general clean-up crew can achieve. From high-reach windows to polished timber floors and delicate fittings, professionals know exactly how to clean without damaging the new finishes.
What’s Included in a Builders Clean?
A comprehensive post-construction clean isn’t just a quick once-over. It typically involves several stages. The initial rough clean happens during the early stages of construction to remove heavy debris and prepare for finishing work. Then comes the final detailed clean, which is what most people think of when they hear the term “builders clean.” This includes dusting all surfaces, vacuuming carpets, mopping floors, cleaning walls, scrubbing kitchens and bathrooms, washing windows inside and out, and ensuring the whole space is spotless.
In some cases, Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor may also include pressure washing driveways, removing paint overspray, and ensuring that outdoor areas are clean and safe too. The aim is simple: deliver a property that looks flawless and ready for use.
Local Expertise Matters
One of the main advantages of hiring a local service provider in Lalor is that they understand the unique needs of the area. Whether it’s dealing with local dust conditions, council waste disposal regulations, or even the timing for cleanup based on Lalor’s busy construction periods, local professionals bring insights that out-of-area contractors may lack.
Using Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor not only ensures a thorough job but also supports local businesses who are familiar with community expectations and can respond quickly when urgent cleaning is required. Plus, being local often means better communication, quicker turnaround times, and ongoing support when you need it.
The Final Touch Before Handover
For developers, builders, and even homeowners, presentation is everything. When it comes time to showcase a newly built or renovated space, the smallest smudge on a window or layer of dust on a benchtop can ruin the impact. Professional site cleaning ensures that every surface shines and every detail is ready to impress.
Especially in competitive real estate markets like Lalor, a clean and polished finish can significantly boost the value of the property and create a lasting impression for potential buyers or tenants. That final sparkle? It’s all thanks to a thorough builders clean.
A Growing Demand in Lalor
As Lalor continues to grow and more residential and commercial developments pop up, the demand for reliable Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor is on the rise. With new estates, home extensions, and commercial projects constantly underway, site cleaning services are becoming an essential part of the building process.
These services don’t just cater to large projects either. Even small renovation jobs can benefit from a post-construction clean. Whether it’s a new bathroom, a kitchen revamp, or an additional room extension, the mess left behind can be more than most homeowners are prepared to handle. That’s when calling in the pros makes all the difference.
Conclusion: Clean Spaces, Better Impressions
Cleanliness might be the last step in the building process, but it’s far from the least important. A clean site not only protects the investment but also ensures safety, boosts property value, and leaves a powerful first impression. If you’re building, renovating, or managing a construction project in Lalor, don’t overlook the final clean.
Choosing trusted Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor is the smartest move you can make to ensure your project is completed to the highest standard — not just structurally, but visually and hygienically as well. Because the final finish is what people remember most.
#the final result is what people usually focus on. The gleaming floors#the fresh paint#the modern fixtures - these are the things that catch the eye. But what many don't see is the mess left behind once the builders pack up th#The Importance of Post-Construction Cleaning#Construction and renovation work often leaves behind a trail of dust#debris#and unwanted materials. Timber scraps#nails#plaster dust#packaging#and even hazardous materials can clutter the space#making it unsafe and unappealing. This isn't just an eyesore - it's a potential hazard to workers#property owners#and even visitors.#Hiring professionals for Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor ensures that the area is thoroughly cleaned and cleared of all waste. It's m#which includes scrubbing surfaces#removing paint splashes#cleaning windows#and even polishing where necessary. They transform chaotic construction sites into livable#functional#and aesthetically pleasing environments.#Why Choose Professional Site Cleaning Services?#When it comes to site cleaning#many builders or developers may think about using their own team to finish the job. While this might seem cost-effective at first glance#it's not the best approach in the long run. Specialized cleaning crews are trained to handle post-construction mess efficiently and safely.#Builders Site Clean Services in Lalor offer a level of precision and attention to detail that goes beyond what a general clean-up crew can#professionals know exactly how to clean without damaging the new finishes.#What's Included in a Builders Clean?#A comprehensive post-construction clean isn't just a quick once-over. It typically involves several stages. The initial rough clean happens#which is what most people think of when they hear the term “builders clean.” This includes dusting all surfaces
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flutteragency · 1 year ago
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calebrity · 2 months ago
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ataxia
sylus x fem reader
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⤷ sylus wants kids, sweetie. lots of kids.
kind of a part 2 to this piece, but it can still serve as a lil standalone as well ♡ DAD SYLUS DAD SYLUS DAD SYLUS
cw ▻ nsfw, dubcon, breeding, pregnancy mentions, daddy kink, im a strong believer in sylus wanting a big family, whipped sylus, characters depicted are 18+, stockholm syndrome, yandere/obsessive tendencies, ~2.5k words
notes ▻ eeee they fr live in my head rent free </3 anyways take this crumb while i work on like other fics. daddy sylus is actually KILLING me like always on the noggin 😵‍💫
𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔, 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒎𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒔, + 𝒓𝒆𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈𝒔 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒂𝒕𝒆𝒅 ♡
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There’s a certain peace you feel, curled up on the leather couch, in watching your husband sit on his knees as the little ones crawl around the carpet, playing with them no different than a toddler would.
Not exactly a pleasant peace, by any means, but a simple, sort of resigned one. Your muscles seem to lose the tension, shoulders always piked high, ready for attack- or some other (meta)physical blow- slumping into rounded blades. You sigh.
Perhaps it’s the knowing that whatever bad thing that could’ve come- already has. Now, you’re experiencing the sloping aftereffects of it.
And this—
Sylus, with a beaming grin, letting out an almost breathless laugh as he scoops up one of the boys and twirls him overhead, the other kept by a protective hand at his side so he won’t bump on the corner of the coffee table—
Is just the fallout.
Ruby-red eyes flit over (and they always do sooner than later, like you’re a beacon in the middle of a dark sea) and crinkle at the edges. You’ve told him before that you don’t like when he throws the babies up in the sky like that, that if they were to suddenly fall, they can’t take flight like Mephisto. He must remember, because he lets out a little, woeful noise and carefully lowers him.
The smile remains, though, kilowatt and wide, a little starry-gazed like he’s inviting you to slip off the sofa and join him on the fluffy rug with your children.
The fatigue natural to post-pregnancy has already claimed you tonight, though. Truth be told, you’d have hesitated even if it didn’t. It’s fine, tending to your children on your own; his long absences leave you with massive windows of alone time with the little ones, and you actually enjoy it (save for the huge toll it takes on your energy, of course, but Luke and Kieran lend a hand where it counts- where they’re allowed).
That sentiment changes a bit, though, when your husband does get home. With his presence comes the cold reminder of how things really are, how you’re still an unwilling counterpart in all this- frilly gowns and jewels and the private chef he hires for fancy dinners (because he has the money for it) be damned.
You want to go home. That wish, hollow as it is, still stands.
…Even if it’s started staggering, in these last few months.
He’s always been more than content with just the two of you, but in the last several weeks, you compare Sylus’s emotional state to a suitcase packed too full, joy spilling out the sides. Evidently, he doesn’t try to close the zipper; he lets it happen with gladness, with his hands open and lifted, but you’re not sure he entirely knows what to do with himself. With these significant developments that are just as new to him (possibly even more, as much as that flummoxes you) as they are to you.
It’s as weird as it is endearing to see what having two children (twin boys, funnily enough) will do to your husband. But if there’s one thing you learned about Onychinus’s illustrious leader in the past couple years of your marriage—
It’s that he does not settle for less.
And when he draws closer, both little ones secured in his lap- dozing off because it’s already thirty minutes past their bedtime- and lifts your hand to place a chaste kiss there, rubbing your knuckles dotingly…
You can tell there’s something more he’s craving.
“A girl,” he moans.
Sometimes- after you’ve just put down the boys for four consecutive nights in a row before collapsing in bed, your lover hardly having the opportunity to show his affections, all but guilted into letting you catch up on your sleep- it’s almost easy to forget how Sylus feels, your brain willing it away. How good he fucks you.
If you’re being more general- how good he takes care of you.
“Give me a girl this time, sweetie, just-“ a gasp, “one more.”
And vaguely, in the haze of sweat and burning hands, his thick, long cock plunging in and out of you deeply- slowly- your juices and his pre slicking between you, sticky as molasses, you wonder to yourself if he’s even convinced of that himself.
Just having one more, you mean.
The twins were unexpected: that right there is an understatement. You were hardly prepared for one rascal- all the countless evenings he spent buttering you up, so attentive, and then cumming into you with whispered vows to knock you up be damned— but when the xray revealed not one misshapen, little form in your womb, but two?
It was a bombshell.
Sylus, beside you (on the leather couch downstairs with your personal doctor he paid God knows how unreasonable a sum to show), had squeezed your hand in his and tried to mask half of his joy. The priority was in comforting you, helping you to realize that this was a good thing- a beautiful thing- that your life was not officially over and- hey, don’t worry, hasn’t he taken good care of you thus far? Surely, adding a couple little ones into the equation wouldn’t suddenly make it impossible.
You’re both very capable people, honey. Even more so together, with him. (Well, he assures you as much, anyway.)
Whether or not he could take care of you was never exactly the worry, though. The worry was that you’d be under his hand forever— and a baby? (two, you strictly correct. Two babies) You could kiss the last hope you had of ever weaseling out from his grip, or luxurious manor, goodbye.
He must know it, buried deep in the back of his head underneath the genuine layers of desire to simply start a family with you, his beloved girl, and flesh out more of a solid, burgeoning life; the silent promise underlying the pregnancy tests and inpromptu housecalls of your poor, overworked doctor.
That a family ties you to him forever.
A tether that’s damn near impossible to cut yourself loose from, even if you stood a punching chance at it to begin with. Glues you together in a way that even marriage doesn’t quite scratch the surface of. Your bond is perpetuated by blood, now. Flesh and bone. Your DNA, warped with his to create—
Monstrosities—
No, a harsh voice in the corner of your skull surprisingly snips back. They’re not monstrosities, far from it. All previous qualms nudged aside (and you had a lot, to be clear; hours spent sobbing and pushing helplessly at his chest as Sylus crooned and wrapped you in his arms proves that), doubts surrounding parenting and your own self preservation- your children are beautiful, that’s true. Healthy. Perfect.
If you’re being honest with yourself, and choose the high road here (the high road means willfully forgetting how involuntary this whole arrangement was in the first place)- they’re positively adorable. With his white hair spiking on their heads but your eyes and lips- and a shared penchant to land themselves into trouble, places they shouldn’t be before either of you stoops over to lift them out. Albeit, you’ll admit that their noses are still up for debate; it’s hard to pinpoint the resemblance when their faces are endearingly round, too chubby to really tell in this stage, but you secretly hope they’ll take after you in that regard.
You… don’t know how you’ll continue to operate if staring at your children is like staring at a mirror image of their father.
But… I mean, they’re fucking innocent in all this—
Your precious boys aren’t like their father. They… won’t be. You’ll make absolute sure of it.
“One more,” he chants, sucking in a long, thin breath through perfect teeth. And damn it all he feels good. So good. Maybe he had more than just one selfish, substratal reason for populating your otherwise fairly quiet home. Because you’re more obedient lately, wanting for it, almost… It gets him riled up in ways he could not begin to articulate. Hesitant still (sometimes he has this awful, basal fear that it’ll never go away, your trepidation towards him)- but sugar-sweet when you lie on the silken bed and present yourself with bashful cheeks that tell Sylus you hate yourself for it but have no real control in the moment.
You moan so prettily for him when he pries your thighs apart and presses them either side of your head, fashioning you like a butterfly, to slide in and out of you with ease. Melodic. Maybe he’s tone deaf to all songs save for you because he knows you, knows you like the back of his hand, pitch and lilt; he could pick out the voice of you in a crowd full of whooping people, he thinks.
Again, you blame your excitement on what he’s done to you. The twins’ pregnancy, the fluctuating hormones that have you bouncing between hysterical sobs and yanking your wide-eyed husband into impulsive, suffocating kisses before his fingers quickly settle around your middle. All the gentle erosion that he’s guided you through across the span of almost two years has left you worn and vulnerable.
But you suppose if something were to ever encourage a deeper bond- strengthen it- what else would it be than to take a man’s seed inside your womb and gift him with a bunch of unruly but cute kids? That’d gnaw away at just about anybody’s inhibitions, even if it grudges you to admit that. It lessens what remnant you held onto of this idea of ‘autonomy’, makes you fully lean onto him.
Sylus takes that news much, much better than you.
It’s… got to be more than physical between you now, you think distantly as he bullies his cockhead against your smooth walls, stroking a spongey spot in the bulwarks of you that makes your head go kaput. Like something spiritual, perhaps. He’s joined his soul with yours and that’s why you’ve been so obedient lately, so needy, clinging onto him and making his back your own personal scratching post as he plays at the idea of impregnating you again.
Oh, fuck, he’s such a bastard you hate him you hate him you—
You suppose your baby girl, inevitable to come somewhere down the line- whether that means during the next pregnancy or the third- won’t be like him, either.
She’ll be a sweetheart, and soft. Perhaps she’ll inherit her daddy’s crimson eyes or his smooth, sharp tongue, his inclination for success, but she’ll carry her mother’s heart with her. She will be kind.
Until someone like her daddy comes along. Flips her world on its head.
(And you know that having Sylus as her daddy would be the simple fact that staves off all potential men intending to prey on her, but still, the thought remains, niggling and bitter.)
“Take daddy’s cock, sweetie,” he goads, breath shot right from his lungs as he traps you beneath him- not that you’ve much the will to resist anymore- and moans over you. “You’ll take what he has to offer, won’t you? Your pretty belly will take all of it in?”
Tears prickle at your eyes when his flit down to your tummy, pupils swelling wildly as his jaw sets tight. He hisses through clenched teeth, cock giving a hot pulse accordingly.
It’s not difficult to imagine the bump there, the mound that’s not yet formed over a for now slim belly and wrinkled skin (stretch marks that you loathe but he worships on most nights, with your heels over his shoulder and his tongue lapping greedily at your pussy, palms kneading the flesh with reverence). It’s hardly been six months since you had the twins (a home birth, he’d insisted, because it was safer that way, more sterile, less stressful for you), but Sylus finds himself pining for your body to adapt to his seed again, for your breasts to plump and your stomach to round, your skin to glow.
(Your hands to reach for him because your emotions have been sat on one long rollercoaster ride and you can’t help whatever the fuck is going on inside you.)
“Sylus—“ You mewl, panting as he knocks his forehead to yours- with a whit more force than you think he’d meant, but he’s a little dazed right now, and your pussy feels so good, so don’t hold it against him, kitten- and grunts back. “Yes?” He breathes, and you liken the sound to a gust of wind, powerful and shaking.
“I- I don’t know,” you all but wail, desperately trying to tamp down your sounds of pleasure before they can escape. You’re failing.
Your reticence is for a number of reasons. First of all, your boys are just down the hall, swaddled in their respective cradles under their rotating airplane fixtures and sleeping soundly. You don’t have any intentions of changing that- especially for something as stupid and pathetic as essentially whoring yourself out to their father (and you’re not a whore, but you can’t help but feel like one when you start to bask in the attention he gives you- your hormones post-pregnancy compelling you to do all sorts of wild things).
And secondly, Luke and Kieran don’t renown you as stubborn for no reason, or your husband, lovingly, as a drama queen— and there’s a defiant part of you that does not want to see the satisfaction on his face when you start to crumble under his ministrations and open your mouth about it.
But all that, for Sylus, is a wonderful work in progress.
And if we’re to be crystal, for as much as the N109 Zone’s number one magnate prioritizes the end goal, he thoroughly enjoys the process.
“You don’t know what, Sweetie?” He whispers. It’s all he can manage right now, you’re squeezing him so tight. In that moment, the fog parts, and he knows with a hundred percent certainty that you do not want him to leave. Yes, your cunt is saying as much, and he rewards it with a carefully angled thrust right against your g-spot, but your face tells no different a story.
You’re beautiful. Perfection embodied. Makes him lose his breath a little.
“I-If I want a girl,” You heave. “If I want one at all.”
Something like dejection passes across his handsome visage then, or maybe it’s uncertainty that weakens the tight knotch in his brow as he inwardly struggles- between his approaching climax and the single mind he’s got to stuff you full of his release- for an appropriate answer. He doesn’t want to anger you. Doesn’t want to make you hate him, no, especially not when you’re finally starting to dip your toes in his waters after all his painstaking efforts to make you comfortable. Oh, God knows Sylus would kick himself for that.
…But this will be good for you. Having another, he means. It’ll be good for the both of you and if you’d just let him show you—
He’s painted the perfect demonstration of that quite well with the boys, hasn’t he? In this past handful of months, you’ve never looked happier and you’re positively glowing and all Sylus has ever wanted was to see your pretty face light with that dazzling, little smile. The twins he’s given you, unbidden as they initially were through your lens, make you so, so happy.
This will be so, so good.
Perfect.
If you’d just give in.
Oh, you’re so maddening sometimes but he adores you, every part and piece. He stoops over so his damp lips brush the lobe of your ear, the perspiration dotting his temple wetting your flushed cheeks. He croons, “You do. You do want it. I’ll show you, kitten, just how bad you need it. The twins need a sister, don’t you think? They won’t know anything other than playing rough, if not.”
Your fingertips squeeze into the lean planes of muscle of his back. He’s burning up, near feverish what with the heat sweltering between your sandwhiched bodies, but he gives a shiver in response like he’s enduring temperatures below freezing.
Panic, beneath the misty veneer of pleasure that makes your face go slack- and the subtle, inexplicable flash of something that almost convinces you Sylus is right, that you do want it- slips into the forefront of your muddled brain. Reaches a hand through the dirt and revives itself, reminding, no, no, you don’t want this, you don’t want him, you don’t want—
You let out a delicious gasp as he spears into you, the flesh of your thighs dimpling as he presses down the undersides of them. Firm, but gentle. It’s true, you’ve become considerably more flexible since meeting him- since having to accommodate him- but he’ll never give you anything more than you can take.
You’d never admit it, but there’s almost a little bit of comfort in knowing that.
“I-I’ll make sure they know how to play nice,” you force out, taking your lower lip in your mouth and suckling as the telltale rush of your climax draws nigh, hardening in your belly as it builds. “I’ll make sure they know how to be gentle, Sy!” Foreign to your own ears. Your voice is horrid as you belatedly register it, all sniveling and gasping- downright pathetic as you cling onto him for dear life and he ruts into you like a dog in heat.
You’re grasping at straws now, you know, but for as feeble as your excuses are, you hope they hit their mark. That they’ll get him to reconsider-
“But sweetie,” he breathes tenderly, “you’re already making sure I’m gentle,” he reminds in a pleasant voice, edged with the remnants of a self control that unravels at a steady pace. “How will you juggle between the three of us? Hm?”
His cockhead, fat and precise, catches on that spot in you that makes you go positively crazy and your eyes flutter back. You let out a strange, choked sound that he marvels at before he capitalizes on the reaction completely, buffetting away at the final walls you’d erected against him tonight.
All are near crumbled.
“I’ll find a way,” you nearly squeak- high-pitched and unconvincing because his mind’s already made- before he’s lolling your jaw back towards him and smashing his lips to yours in a decadent kiss, silencing your protests- for as weak as they are.
It’s close to visceral, the contact, wet lips melding hungrily with yours, trading groans and mewls as he effectively pistons his hips into you and paints colorful stars across the black span of your eyelids. In a word- invasive. Torpefying, all your limbs unfurling and slipping away from him in favor of curling into the sheets as your release approaches at whirlwind speeds, blunt fingernails clinging onto you so tight there’ll be bruises formed tomorrow- as well as an apologetic, rueful sigh on Sylus’s end, because he swears to God he’s trying to hold back—
Fucking mind-numbing.
And isn’t that just what you need? A quiet conscience? A shot of morphine fed through a needle straight into the veins, an emotional kind of tranquilizer or- or something to moderate the snarled mess your heart’s become all because of him—
It seems he’s cognizant then, pupils dilated madly as he finally blinks, of the hands that clench too tight- withdrawing them immediately from your thighs (regrettably, they remain cleaved open in a willing offer for him, shaking and red with his prints) to loop your wrists either side of your head. Holding your hands. Ever the romantic. You almost laugh, seconds off from that white-hot tidal wave of pleasure, at the irony of it all. Onychinus’s formidable, takes-no-bullshit leader, fucking you with all the grace of a big clumsy dog but all the love of one too— loyal and determined, bleeding heart on his sleeve.
He’s still kissing you, sucking on your tongue filthily, and all you can think of is waking the boys sleeping soundly next door how exquisite it feels, his thick member dragging in and out of your walls like it’s his right. Sylus certainly believes as much.
He’s ruined you too good for anyone else; you’re starting to believe it, too.
“There you go, kitten!” He gasps. “Let go. Just- fuck- let go for daddy. Such a good, good girl. Such a good mommy, you are. Our- oh, fuck, that’s it, that’s it, perfect- Our little girl will be so, so lucky to have you.”
When he comes, you do, too.
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dollyhao · 9 months ago
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older woman! abby x young woman! reader
summary: abby is not sure getting close to her young secretary is a good idea or not but you know for sure it is.
cw: pining, fluff, smut, love <3, all types of cute shit
word count: 2.5k
working for abby has been one of the best experiences you've ever had. you started working as a receptionist/secretary at abby's auto body shop five months ago and she is the greatest boss you've ever had.
she is so kind and patient especially when you make mistakes. she respects her employees and treats them more like colleagues than subordinates. not to mention she is beautiful, like really beautiful. for a woman in her late thirties she was very fit, it was very clear she worked out and you mostly see her bring salmon and rice into work for lunch.
she had skin that looked soft to the touch and a couple of scars running up her forearms, most from her job as a mechanic. she had luscious, thick dirty blonde hair that she keeps in a braid or sometimes a bun.
you may have developed a crush on the older woman, blushing at every word she says to you in that soft tone. or when she stands close to you; looking over your shoulder to look at the computer that's in front of you. and you've tried to make it obvious that you were interested by lingering looks, compliments about her work, and questions trying to get to know her better, but she has never made a move.
but lord did abby wish the feelings weren't mutual.
abby hired you because of your business degree and your experience but you ended up being the best part of her day. you were beautiful and funny and you made her job as the owner so much easier. she's able to focus on her passion as a mechanic and she couldn't thank you enough. but she tries to keep away because it wouldn't be right to start a relationship with you, your in your early twenties and abby's in her late thirties, you were probably looking for different things right now.
abby wants to settle down, get married and maybe start a family but you were young and probably had so much stuff you wanted to do. she didn't wanna start anything just for it to be temporary especially not with a girl as sweet as you. but now abby is sweating at the thought of having to ask you to stay afterwards to help her with some documents that she was slacking on.
your amazing because you agree immediately even though you question why she didn't bring these documents to your attention sooner. abby is embarrassed and insists on staying behind and helping you.
being in a room with abby at night is like a wet dream. you sit with her in her office at 8 at night as you look over important documents and inventory. you sit side by side when you glance over at her, you didn't even notice that she took her hair out her bun, rubbing her fingers through her scalp. you stare at the side of her face while she reads something on her computer and you can't help yourself when you reach your hand out and tuck a piece of hair that was obstructing your view of her face.
she looks over at you and sees the soft expression you have as your eyes move around her face. "you're beautiful," you mumble, trailing your thumb over her face gently. "thank you," she mumbles back. you continue to stare at each other before one of your phones ding, snatching abby's attention from your face.
"um, i can finish up here," she looks at the time and look back over at you, "there's not much left to do here." she stands up grabbing your coat for you. you stand after her, terrified that you have ruined something that you weren't even sure was there. that was until abby gave you a genuine smile and helped you put your jacket on. you try not to sigh in relief when she askes to walk you to the car.
she walks you to your car and opens the door for you and closing it when your in. you roll your window down and start the car looking over at the abby who had her hand on the roof of your car. she bends down and rests her arms on your window, "thank you for helping me tonight. drive safe, ok?"
goodness, she's using that soft tone with you again so you just nod and smile. she smiles back and walks back into the building. you drive away smiling at the memory of abby's face illuminated by the lamp in the office and her soft hair flowing down her back.
.ೃ࿐
"are you coming?" manny is leaning over the counter that your working at staring down at you expectedly. "what?" you were working which you assumed manny was supposed to be doing as well. "are you coming to the out with us tonight?" he repeats his question and you glance over at abby who is wiping oil off her hands.
"who's going?" you continue to work, feigning disinterest. "all of us, boss, owen, nora and me of course."
"um yea, ill go." you give him a quick smile before getting back to what you were doing. manny hits the counter backing away, "great!"
your not sure what you expected from tonight, you like your coworkers but this is your first time hanging out outside of work. everyone is sitting in the booth telling silly stories in the loud bar. your quietly listening nursing your drink glancing up at abby occasionally who is sitting across from you.
she has a beer in her hand giggling at her friends drunk antics adding to the conversation every once in the while. she glances at you and catches you eye, "are you ok?" she mouths to you. you nod and give a tense smile, its way too loud and hot and you want to get away. you guess abby can sense that because she motions over the bar and you nod.
"we'll be back. getting more drinks." she gestures to both of your empty cups. she stands and waits for you to do the same and when you do she places her hand on your lower back steering you towards the bar. abby orders your drinks and nods over to a small empty table in the corner of the building. you nod and grabing her wrist, feeling bold and pull her over to the table.
"this isnt really your scene, huh?" abby starts as you settle into your seats. "no not really. way too loud." she nods sipping on her drink. you both sit quietly for a second before your gaze trail to her scarred forearms. your fingers trace her scars gently, "these are strangely beautiful." you glance up at her face seeing her eyes already on your face.
abby's fingers twitch as your soft hand wrap around her arm pulling it closer to yourself. your fingers trail softly up her arm until you get to her fingers you play with them for a second before intertwining your fingers together. you both tighten your grips on each others hand then you bring her hand to your face. you rub your cheek against her knuckles looking her in the eye.
abby's mind won't stop racing, she should pull away; she shouldn't be letting you do this but the look on your face and the way your looking at her she can't bring herself to do it. but then you pull her back to reality when you place soft, lingering kiss on her knuckles.
"shit," she mutters before pulling her hand out of your grip. normally you would've dropped it, but you've been drinking and you know that abby wants you and you want her. you get out of your seat taking the seat next to her. you turn your body towards her, "why won't you kiss me?" you ask staring at her lips.
abby's lips part as she watches the pout that forms on your lips. "i..i want to," she whispers leaning closer so you can hear her, "but i can't... i shouldn't."
"why not?" you whisper back. "i want you to."
"i want to. but im afraid ill want more than just a kiss if i do."
"then you can have more than just a kiss," you scoot closer to her leaning closer to her face. "i want more with you and im not talking about just sex, i want you." you look into her eyes hoping that she can see how sincere you are. she shakes her head, "your young, you don't need to be tied down by someone my age."
"that's not your choice to make alone. im telling you i want to be with you, tie me down. i want to see you look at me like this everyday and not just a work, i wanna hear that beautiful voice in the morning and run my fingers through your hair." you grab abby's face with both hands making her look at you.
she stares at you with a look of desperation and adoration. she grabs your hand that pressed against her face kissing the inside of your palm and you pull her into a kiss.
abby kisses you with so much passion like shes been dreaming of this moment. she places her hands on your waist, just wanting to touch you, "can i take you to my place?" she whispers against your lips. you nod enthusiastically already standing with your jacket, taking abby's hand and leading her to the door.
arriving at abby's house was a surreal experience. walking through her kitchen and living room felt like you were getting a peak into her world. her home is kind of bare of any decoration but its just so her. book shelves in the living room and books on the coffee table, a cd collection someone would probably kill for, dishes in the sink; the kind of neglect someone who lives alone commits.
but it smells like her, like a fall candle and a long day of work. "im sorry for the mess." she says moving things around with an embarrassed chuckle. "its alright." you smile at her placing your hand on her shoulder. "can i kiss you now?" you ask abby when she sits down on her couch. she nods and you kiss her for the second time that night.
you straddle her thigh, placing your hand on the side of her neck with your other on her arm squeezing the muscle that's there. abby's hand creeps over your back and under your shirt. you arch your back into her when her big cold hands slide up your spine. you whimper in her mouth, when her other hand grabs your waist.
you pull away first, panting hard, looking at abby with swollen lips when you hurriedly take your shirt off before diving back into your passionate kiss. she pulls back from the kiss wanting to be able to take you in for a second. her eyes look over your figure with so much desire and longing. "shit." she mumbles, her hands settle on your naked waist before they run over your stomach and up to your bra covered breast.
your hands under her shirt. "off, please." you whisper lifting the shirt over her head and she lets you pull it off and starts unbuttoning your pants. "take these off baby. i wanna taste you." she says looking you in your eyes, pulling your pants down as you stand over her. your hands clutch her shoulders as she stands up with you in her arms walking to her bedroom.
you place feverish kisses on her neck as she makes her way. you are dropped on your back on the the soft surface of her bed. she flips you on your stomach pulls you to the end of the bed before propping your hips up so your ass is in the air. she kisses down your lower back to your thighs. "this ok?" she askes you. you look back at her with your face pressed into the bed and nod with a hum, as she pulls your under wear off and uses her thumbs to spread you open.
you moan as abby licks your clit before sticking her tongue in you. you try to fuck yourself on her tongue before she pulls away, placing a kiss on your clit before rolling it around with her tongue, she pushes two fingers into you. you tremble and reach behind you to grab her hand that's gripping your ass. "baby, omg dont stop!" abby's not even sure if you meant to call her that but it sounds so good coming from you.
"say it again, princess," she stands up pressing her front against her back. she doesn't stop fucking you with her fingers and she rubs her thumb over your clit, "you like it?" you hump at her hand, "yes yes, i love it, baby." you lift your head peering at her face with your mouth hanging open, lewd sounds coming out.
abby presses kisses to the back of your neck as you cum on her fingers. she watches as your body shutters when you peer into each others eyes. she feels a burst of pride in being able to get you to come undone like that. hearing the way you talked to her was enough for her as she settles on her back trying to pull you to snuggle with her.
"what are you doing?" you ask her sitting on your knees. "oh im sorry. i shouldn't have assumed you would want to stay-" you cut abby off, "no no, its your turn." you say resting your hands on her pants buckle. "you don't have to."
"why wouldn't i?" you look at her confused. abby wasn't expecting to get anything back from you, most of the time women just took from abby, never wanting to give back but she should've known that wasn't you. your everything she has ever wanted. so she nods as she leans against her pillow and you pull her pants down.
you place your hands on her thighs obviously enjoying the thick, hard muscles under your hands. you kiss the inside of her thighs, biting them slightly; abby groans at the sight. you wrap your arms around her thighs before looking up at her and resting your head against her thigh. "you're beautiful."
abby cant help but blush at the compliment when you begin to slide her underwear off. you kiss around where she wants you before you suck on her clit, rolling it around with your tongue. abby whines and places her hand against the back of your head. "your such a good girl," she gasp out as her hips buck up into your face, "your always such a good girl."
your tongue slips into her hole and your nose bumps her clit just right so she rides and humps your face trying desperately to get off. she repeats your name over and over peering down at those beautiful round eyes. her hips start to jerk and you run your hands over her thighs as she rides out her high on your tongue.
"your so perfect." she whispers in astonishment. "im gonna tie you down, mama."
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cimmanonrowl · 9 months ago
Text
Eat Your Young pt.1
Part Two | Masterlist
It was a blessing when you were offered a job to look after a kid named Jack. He is a good one– smart, funny, a little cheeky but obeys you nonetheless. His father was all the same— Mr. Hotchner. He pays really well and on time, and made sure that after his arrival from Pakistan, you finally learn to accept your hidden desires.
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Pairing: aaron hotchner x nanny!reader
Theme: smut heaven
Contents: age gap, oral fixation, oral (f) receiving, cum play, overstimulation, squirting, creampie, unprotected, rough sex, dom!aaron, daddy kink, powerplay: boss/employee dynamic, pussy-eater bearded aaron.
You were supposed to find Jack in ten minutes. 
Ten minutes maximum, you told yourself. That is the only reason why you confidently agreed to play hide and seek with that hyperactive, sugar-high of a child. Just ten minutes.
Now you couldn’t breathe in panic.
“Jack!” your trembling voice echoed down the hallway as you peered through rooms you had ransacked just three minutes ago. “Jack, please. Where are you, honey?”
Nothing.
The heavy sound of your frantic steps pierced the silence as you bolted downstairs, feeling even more lightheaded as the gnawing anxiety grew harshly and clawed at your insides. The silence reverberating through every corner of the house felt extremely taunting. Yet, with the rush of worry you feel for the kid, you couldn’t bring yourself to think of anything else.
Your chest hurts, your mind racing with every horrid scenario, each thud echoing in your ears as you rush to the kitchen. Shortly after you were hired and joined their little family, Jessica told you everything she felt you needed to be aware of. And you knew what Jack had to go through as a kid. He and his father had gone through terrible things you weren’t even sure it was possible to handle.
Warm tears now flooded your eyes as you desperately scanned every nook and cranny— he was not under the table, not inside the empty kitchen cabinet, nor behind the dining room curtains.
“Jack Hotchner!” you tried keeping the tremor out of your voice, making yourself sound assertive and annoyed as an attempt to scare him, yet your panic still found a way to lace at each word. “This isn’t funny anymore, Jack! I’m telling your dad!” 
You darted to the living room, ripping aside the couch cushions and peeking behind and under every piece of furniture. Now your breath comes in shallow gasps. With each movement, the very memory of his mischievous giggle haunted you, ringing inside your brain.
When you realized the kid wasn’t there, you sprinted again upstairs, taking two steps at a time. Your mind continuously raced with possibilities. Did he sneak out? Is he hiding in the attic? The basement? Jesus Christ, did you even lock the front door?
You throw open the closet in the hallway, pushing aside winter coats and a pile of boxes. “Jack! I’m serious! Come out!” 
Desperation edged even closer.
The bathroom door swung open with a creak as you pushed through the room. But to your horror, it was all empty, too.
You staggered back to his bedroom with quick steps. Your very last hope. You flung open the toy chest, rummaging through the chaos of plastic dinosaurs, action figures, and Lego blocks. Still nothing. It didn’t even cross your mind that a kid as old as Jack wouldn’t fit in a small wooden toy box; your mind was too frantic to think logically.
“Jack! Where are you?” you dropped to your knees, peering under his bed, your vision blurring with unshed tears. “Please, Jack, come out!” 
You stood by the window and started biting on your nails— a habit you developed when you’re too anxious to function. You clutched your phone tightly as you hugged yourself, fingers trembling, contemplating to finally dial for help. From the window you observed that the garden looked empty as always, the back shed had always been locked, and you couldn’t see anyone behind the bushes— Jack was nowhere to be found. 
The dread is almost paralyzing, a heavy weight pressing firmly on your chest.
And just as you made up your mind to go outside and check properly, your phone vibrated on your hand. Blood drained on your face as you glanced at the screen and read the familiar name on the caller’s I.D.
Mr. Hotchner.
Jack’s father. Your employer— who also happens to be a big shot FBI agent. If he learned that you lost his son in a hide-and-seek game, no matter how warmhearted, accommodating, and considerate that man is of your needs and well-being, you get this nagging feeling that you might end up floating on a river somewhere with no leads of any kind or prime suspect to consider.
You rubbed your eyes as you accepted the call, your doom at the same time. “H-hello?”
“Hey,” Aaron’s voice crackles through the line, distant yet filled with warmth. “Just wanted to check in. How’s Jack doing?”
Your throat tightened as you listened. 
“Mr. Hotchner…”
“Yes?”
“Mr. Hotchner…” your fingers gripped the phone tightly as you let out a strangled sob. “I... I can’t find Jack. We– we were playing hide and seek, and now he’s gone. I’ve looked everywhere,” warm tears flowed down your cheeks as you continued, your voice trembling. “I’m sorry. I’ve been l-looking… I swear. I’m really sorry.”
There’s a moment of silence on the other end, and you can almost hear Aaron’s heartbeat sync with your frantic pulse. You braced for the incoming screams, expecting him to ridicule your incompetence. After all, you’ve always thought of Mr. Hotchner as someone who never hesitates to pinpoint someone’s inefficiency. Maybe today you’ll have enough luck to prove your theory.
But in a calm voice, Aaron Hotchner said softly instead, “Alright, I need you to stay calm for me, sweetheart. Are you sure you checked everywhere?”
“Y-yes, sir,” you sniffed quietly in relief, rubbing your nose and the tears streaming down your face. “Everywhere. The cabinets, the cupboards, h-his toy box…”
A brief silence fell with that, and you bit your lip in embarrassment. “His toy box? You don’t suppose he’s gonna fit in there, do you?” Aaron sounded like he was trying not to laugh. What a silly, little girl.
“T-that’s not the point, sir!”
“Did you check the front door? Is the back door locked?”
“Yes. I always make sure to lock it.”
“Have you checked my office then?”
“N-no…” you drawled in confusion, frowning as you went back to biting the edge of your nail. “Should I?”
What kind of question is that? Why would you even go there? That’s the only room in his house that you don’t welcome yourself. Mr. Hotchner may have never told you so but you’re fully aware of all the confidential documents he’s storing inside. You can’t afford to be thrown in jail for obstructing a case because you have mistaken a case file as trash and thrown it out.
“It’s worth a look. Jack likes playing in there when I’m working,” Aaron’s tone suddenly shifted, his voice turning quiet as he started with his order. “There’s a wooden crate beside my desk, check that first.”
You hesitated. “But, I don—”
“Just check, sweetheart, please,” Aaron interrupted, gently but firmly as always. “I trust you.”
The sincerity in his words cut through your anxiety. Aaron trusts you. So you took a deep breath and nodded to yourself before stepping out of his son’s room.
“Jack, you really scared her. You know you’re supposed to come out when you’re called, right?” Aaron’s firm voice filled the kitchen moments later.
Jack glanced at you as if feigning confusion. As you know him well, he was obviously thrilled with the chaos he caused. You sat beside him at the kitchen table, eyeing the little devil while you prepare your own food, listening to his father’s reprimand. Jack’s legs swung back and forth under the table, excitedly munching on a sandwich wrap you made for his lunch.
“I was just hiding, Dad. It’s hide and seek, that’s what I’m supposed to do.” Jack’s small brows furrowed like his father’s as he looked down at his plate.
“Yes, I know, buddy,” A soft sigh rang audible through the line. “But it’s just a game, you can’t hide so well that no one can find you. It’s important to keep everyone safe, especially when I’m not there.”
Jack’s lower lip jutted out even further. “But that’s the point of the game, Dad. Players need to hide well.”
“Yes, buddy, but what I’m saying is…” Aaron sighed again, struggling to weave a perfect explanation for his son. “Everything fun should be done in moderation. You scared her, and me, because we thought something bad happened to you.”
“I’m sorry, Dad.”
“Thank you, buddy, but I don’t think I’m the one you should be apologizing to. You made her worry.”
“I...” Jack stopped chewing, looking at you with wide, innocent eyes. “I’m sorry, I just wanted to win.”
The scolding seemed to have hit its mark, and you reached over, ruffling the little guy’s hair. “It’s okay, honey. Just don’t hide so well next time, alright?”
Jack stared at you and nodded solemnly, but then his pout deepened. “Dad grew his beard. I don’t like it.”
You suppressed a smile, glancing at the phone where you could see Aaron’s face on the screen. Despite the grainy connection, you can see the dark shadow of a beard on his jawline. 
Aaron chuckled at what he heard, the sound of his deep voice humorous. “I had to, buddy. It’s hard to shave here every day.”
Jack shrugged as he took a big bite of his food. “You look like a bear.”
“What?!” Aaron said incredulously.
“You should shave, Dad. We’re gonna look like Masha and the Bear when you come home.”
You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, shaking your head.
Only if you were asked, you’d say how the full beard really absolutely suited Aaron. Now he looked rugged— a stark contrast to his usually neat and well-kept appearance. Regardless, he seemed to look even more handsome and manly. And God, he looks so fucking hot he should be put behind the bar.
But well, it’s a good thing no one bothered asking your opinion; how are you supposed to answer in front of a kid, anyway?  
You’ve always admired this man, that’s for sure. He and his neatly ironed suits, clean-cut hair, and authoritative nature had always been an incredible sight to look at— but this new look?
This.
This makes you think of lewd things in broad daylight.
“Well, buddy your best friend doesn’t seem to mind it,” Aaron caught your eye through the screen, a small smile playing on his lips. 
Crimson red dusted on your cheeks with the teasing, but you managed to smile back. “Uhuh, it’s not so bad, Jack. Maybe you’ll get used to it.”
Jack scrunched his nose but didn’t argue any further. Instead, he picked up his sandwich again and took a big bite. You shook your head in amusement, holding Aaron’s gaze on the screen briefly before you had to look away because...
That damn fucking beard.
“Alright, I also have to grab some dinner now,” Aaron said after a few beats of silence. “Jack, be good for her, okay? She might run away if you continue scaring her. We don’t want that, do we?”
Jack nodded, still chewing. “Okay, Dad. No more.”
“I love you, buddy.”
“I love you, too, Dad.”
“And you,” Aaron’s voice softened even more as he addressed you, a soft crinkle present in his eyes. “Thank you. For everything.”
You could only nod, and smile, and look away as your heart pounded against your chest. “No worries. Keep safe, Mr. Hotchner.”
He gave you one last look, his eyes filled with warmth and something you couldn’t decipher, before the call disconnected. With a sigh, you looked back at Jack, who was already reaching for a second sandwich wrap, mumbling about how his father would soon end up like Hagrid.
The soft click echoed in the quiet house as you closed the door behind you. You slipped off your high heels, groaning and wincing in pain, before dropping your keys into the bowl on the console table. The house feels emptier than usual, with Jack spending the night at his Aunt Jessica’s. It was a setup that she and Aaron agreed on before; to let Jack stay overnight every Friday and go home by the afternoon the next day.
As you make your way down the hallway, it doesn’t escape your notice that the kitchen lights are open. You weren’t expecting anyone to be home, not at this late hour anyway, and the sight stopped you in your tracks. Burglar was your first thought.
So naturally, you took several tentative steps closer, peeking around the corner.
Surprise flickered across Aaron’s features as he noticed you, quickly masking it with a strained smile. He was standing by the kitchen island, a half-finished bottle of brandy open.
“Hey,” he greeted, his voice rougher than how you remembered months ago, “I didn’t know you’d be back so soon.”
“I should say the same to you.”
You had no idea he’s coming home today. His travel-worn face was illuminated by the warm kitchen light; a glass of amber liquid swirls in the rock glass in his hand. While his eyes were shadowed with something unreadable, never leaving yours. 
You manage a small smile in return, though it feels heavy. “But yeah, the date ended earlier than expected.”
Not just the date but your entire evening hadn’t gone as planned, and you can still feel the weight of disappointment tugging at your shoulders.
Aaron nodded but didn’t say anything about it.
Silence settled between the two of you. His eyes flickered to the drink in his hand, while he took a slow sip, as if buying time. You didn’t dare glance away as you stepped further into the kitchen, leaning against the counter in front of him.
“I didn’t know you’d be home today. How was your trip?” you asked, genuinely curious but also eager to fill the void.
He shrugged, setting the glass down with a soft clink. “Busy. Tiring. The usual.” His gaze returned to you, lingering a moment too long. “You okay?”
The concern in his voice was unmistakable. You nodded, but the gesture also felt hollow. “Yeah, just... you know, one of those nights.”
Aaron’s jaw tightened slightly, and he looked away, staring into his glass. “Want to talk about it?”
You hesitated, not sure if you’re ready to unpack the disappointment just yet, and also considering the fact that he must be tired from his flight. But there’s something in Aaron’s presence that you always found comforting, you just had to go on.
“Maybe later,” you said softly, wandering your eyes around until it landed on the wine shelf. “Can I join you?”
He nodded without hesitation, watching you in silence as you grab a bottle of wine from the rack. Aaron’s eyes met yours again as you settled back, and for a moment, something flickered in their depths— something that makes your heart skip a beat.
Aaron’s eyes were focused on you as you set the bottle on the counter and reach for the corkscrew. The maroon silk of your dress catches the light; it was a simple one, nothing too flashy nor revealing. Just enough to accentuate your figure and compliment your skin well. You don’t understand why heat licked your neck as you became aware of Aaron’s eyes lingering on you.
With a soft pop, the cork comes free, and you pour yourself a generous amount. You took your own seat on the barstool. And with your slow movements, the maroon dress clings to your form, highlighting your curves in a way that makes Aaron’s breath catch.
He tried to look away, but his apprehensive eyes kept returning to you.
“There’s a practice game this Sunday. Jack will be happy to know you’ll be watching,” you cleared your throat, eyes focused on the alcohol swirling around the clear glass.
Aaron took a slow sip of his drink, trying to collect his thoughts, but his gaze kept drifting back to you. The dress, with its silky sheen and soft drape, made you look not just elegant but breathtakingly sexy- a fact that Aaron is finding increasingly hard to ignore.
“Yeah, I’m planning to surprise him tomorrow. Maybe we can pick him up early from Jess? Then we can grab a lunch outside.”
You gave him a smile. “Sure, sounds nice.”
As you settled deeper into the conversation, your attention narrowed down to Aaron. He’s leaning against the marble counter, the soft kitchen light casting a warm glow on him. His beard was slightly thicker than you remember, giving him an almost roguish look that you couldn’t help but find incredibly attractive. And hot.
He’s so hot.
He was clad in one of his work shirts, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing strong forearms. The shirt fits him well, emphasizing his broad shoulders and the hint of muscle underneath. Even the veins running through the surface of his arm were visible. 
The sight makes your heart flutter, and you found yourself admiring the way he looked tonight, with a brandy glass cradled in his big, calloused hand. You wonder how it would feel to have those strong hands grip you tightly, his fingers playing with your pussy, his lips on your neck.
“So,” Aaron’s voice snapped you out of your reverie, “how was the date?”
You took a sip of your drink, the question making your chest tighten again, but you answered lightly. “It was... okay, I guess? Not what I anticipated, though.”
His eyes are on your face, but they keep flickering to your dress, tracing the line of your collarbone, the soft curve of your shoulder. “What happened?”
“He was nice and all… but I don’t know…” Aaron nodded as you struggled recalling the events of evening, and you can tell he wants more details. “It’s just awkward, as always.”
“Did you go anywhere special?”
“We went to that new Italian place downtown. Dave said the food was great so I wanted to try…” you swirl the wine in your glass, watching the dark liquid catch the light. The movement makes the dress shimmer, and Aaron’s gaze follows the motion, almost mesmerized. “I just thought it’d be better, you know? It’s our third date, anyway.”
Aaron’s gaze softened, and he took a sip of his drink. “I’m sorry to hear that.”
“Thanks. Well, that’s what happens, I guess,” You smiled, feeling a bit more at ease.
“Yeah,” his eyes traveled from your eyes to your lips, then back to your eyes. “But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
You both fall into a comfortable silence, the tension from earlier slowly dissipating. Aaron’s eyes lingered on you before finally, he spoke again, his tone light but his curiosity evident. 
“Did he at least appreciate the dress? You look... incredible tonight.”
A blush warmed your cheeks, making you giggle to yourself. “He did compliment it, but I don’t think he noticed much beyond that.”
“He’s an idiot then,” Aaron said quickly, the words slipping out before he could stop them. Then he looked down, a hint of embarrassment coloring his features. “I mean, it’s a beautiful dress, and it suits you really well.”
The compliment made your smile grow wider.
“You’re looking pretty good yourself,” your cheeks heat up as quickly as you realize what you’ve just said, but you don’t think you have to take it back. “Pakistan’s that rough?”
“You could say that,” Aaron’s eyes flickered with surprise and a touch of pleasure. He straightened slightly, a small, almost bashful yet equally beautiful smile playing on his lips. “I’m pretty sure Jack will volunteer to shave this beard off.”
“But it suits you…” you murmured mostly to yourself, your eyes tracing the line of his jaw and the way the beard added a certain depth to his features. “He’s just teasing you.”
Aaron chuckled, running a hand through his hair, a gesture that draws your attention to the subtle flex of his muscle. “Yeah? I wasn’t sure if it was too much.”
“No, it’s perfect,” you replied, your voice softening. “Makes you look... distinguished.”
He took a slow sip of his brandy, his eyes never leaving yours. The intensity of his gaze makes your pulse quicken, and you find yourself caught in the moment, drowning in his presence and the wetness slowly pooling in between your thighs.
“So you like it?”
Oh, you love it. “Yes.”
Aaron stepped a little closer, settling beside you as you glanced up at him from your seat. The scent of his perfume, mixed with the subtle hint of brandy, filled your senses. His eyes flickered down to your lips, then back up to your eyes.
“Tell me about your date,” he said, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of something more in his eyes.
“There’s not much to tell,” you said with a laugh, your voice catching slightly. “It was just... dull and boring.”
“Dull? How so?”
“Just…” you bit your lip lightly, shaking your head as you smiled up at him. “You know.”
“I can’t say I know, doll. Use your words.”
Your heart raced but you didn’t look away. Instead, you stared back at him with the same intensity, blinking through your eyelashes almost innocently. “He… he doesn’t make me feel like you do.”
A beat.
Your heart drummed wildly against your ears.
And Aaron’s eyes darkened with the invitation.
“And how do I make you feel, angel?” he whispered softly.
“Like you actually want me.”
“Which I fucking do,” he leaned in, his breath slowly mingling with yours. “More than you know.”
Aaron’s hand moved to your waist, his touch light but possessive. Your heart pounded wildly as you stared into his eyes.
“Show me then,” you whispered back, your voice trembling with anticipation.
“Are you sure?”
“Absolutely,” you breathed, your lips just a hair’s breadth away from his.
He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a tantalizingly slow and deliberately teasing way.
“Aaron...” you whined, your voice heavy with need. “Please...”
“What do you want?”
“I don’t k-know…”
His grip tightened on your hips, his voice rough and demanding. “I think you’re lying, pretty girl.”
“Aaron...”
“I said,” he asked again, gruffly this time. “What do you want?”
“Want your m-mouth on me, Aaron, please...”
A quick swipe of his tongue wetted his lower lip, and a satisfied smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. “Good girl.”
His hand tightened on your waist, drawing you even closer. And all you knew from that second is the feeling of his hot breath against your skin.
“Aaron-” a low growl rumbled from his chest as your fingers tangled through his hair, pushing him even closer to your dripping cunt. “Tha- God, that feels good…”
Aaron hummed lightly, running the calloused pad of his palm on the soft surface of your thighs, feeling the bumps rising on your skin along with your pleasure. He darted his eyes to your face with his mouth still on your cunt, his lips nibbling your clit, watching you breathe heavily while containing the whine caught right in your throat.
When you propped onto your elbow and met his gaze, you could barely register the drunk look on his eyes.
“I’m c-close…” you whispered, pleadingly so. “Aaron… please…”
You didn’t have to say anything else. The contrast between the softness of his lips and the coarseness of his beard creates a heady, intoxicating burn. The rough graze of his beard against your inner thigh sent shivers down your spine, making you arch your back, forcing yourself closer to his mouth, to his touch; even closer to his heat.
You have never been treated this way– never had a partner who takes pleasure in pleasuring you. The warmth of Aaron’s breath fanned through your clit as he licked and prod his tongue on your entrance, feeling the burning scrape of his stubble with every movement. It’s both gentle and painful, enough to make your skin tingle and your heart race; chasing the heightening pleasure and your incoming orgasm.
“So good, doll…” he whispered roughly, encouragingly, his attention focused only at you. “Fuck, it’s so hot.”
He leaned away only for a moment, straightening his back as he quickly unbuttoned his shirt. In the blink of an eye, the sight of his muscular chest and soft stomach salivated you. You’ve known he’s hairy, but now that you saw the dark trail of hair on his abdomen down to his…
Aaron looked smug.
“Dirty girl, like what you’re seeing?”
You hummed hoarsely. “Want you, please. D-daddy?”
Aaron groaned at your words. And you noticed how his palm flew to the obvious bulge on his pants, squeezing his aching cock as if your words hurt him. Or pleased him, you don’t know. All you registered was the faint satisfaction in his smile and the glint of hunger in his piercing eyes.
He ran his palm on your thighs lovingly. “Cum on Daddy’s mouth first. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?”
Although he posed that as a question, you knew it was an order. And who are you to defy him when he generously licked through your folds and sucked on your clit like a starved man? He’s not devouring you like relinquishing his final meal; instead, like you are the very first meal he ever tasted and cannot get enough of. He eats you like someone will take you away from him. But even if they do, he wants to make sure it’s his mouth and big cock you’ll crawl back to.
The world seemed so far away as you let yourself drown in the pleasure, all while Aaron occasionally fucks his tongue in and out of your needy cunt.
“Close, angel?” he asked before spitting on your pussy and swirling his tongue on your clit. “You taste like heaven, baby.”
You nodded dumbly.
“You’ve no idea how many nights I fucked my fist to this thought.”
Your release inched closer, roused by his deep groans and heavy breathing. You were not even past the vulgar image of him spitting on your cunt when you felt one of his fingers gently swiping through your wetness, his touch light as a ghost, and you shuddered as you realized what will come next.
You gasped and moaned, and grabbed a fistful of his hair on both of your hands. “Need you n-now, please… enough…”
“Just one, angel. Just give me one on my tongue,” he demanded, his eyes dark with need. “You can do that for Daddy, right baby? I’ll fuck you good later, I promise.”
You clenched around his finger as he slowly slid into you, then out, slowly gaining rhythm and speed that reflected your racing heart. He thrust in and out, and in and out, until he decided you could take another finger, then another one. You’ve never felt so full, but good God if you say you didn’t fantasize about getting fingerfucked by your boss, you’d be sent to hell for lying.
He nibbled. He sucked. He licked. His fingers never once stopped assaulting your wet, squelching cunt. With every drag of his fingers and swipe of his tongue, you could hear a deep growl rumbling through his chest. And his eyes watched you, taking in the way you writhe in pleasure, the way your thighs tremble, and how your eyes welled in tears.
“Please… p-please…” you whimpered pathetically, your fingers tightening on his hair. “C-close, ‘m so close… daddy…”
“Cum for me, sweetheart. Come on, be a good girl.”
“D-daddy!” you screamed loudly when his teeth grazed your now sensitive clit.
“Fucking cum for me. Make me proud, angel.”
Your eyes rolled at the back of your head as your orgasm ripped through you. His words grew distant as it happened, showering you still with lewd praises: how good you taste, how warm and tight your cunt would be, and how he expects you to take his big cock.
“S-stop… A-” you trashed away from his grip. “Too m-much. D-daddy, no! Stop! S-stop! Too much!”
His fingers continued abusing the sensitive nerves deep inside you, groaning loudly as your walls tightened around him. “A little more, sweet girl. One more for Daddy…”
“N-no–” Tears slid down your cheeks in overstimulation, feeling the rough drag of his fingers inside your tight cunt and his lips on your clit. “Oh, g-god! I’m close again… D-daddy! Don’t s-stop, p-please!”
“Good girl, angel. Look at you... that’s it, baby.”
He trailed wet kisses along your skin as he moved upward, kneading your tits, lingering a bit longer on your hardened nipples. You haven’t gone down from your last orgasm when you already felt the tip of his cock prodding at your pulsating cunt.
You whimpered weakly, not fully aware of your surrounding anymore.
“Hey, hey…” you heard Aaron whisper, his voice soft and gentle, caressing your face lovingly as he observed your expression. “Good? Do you want to stop, sweetheart?”
You shook your head. “I will kill you if you stop.”
“Ah,” he let out a hoarse chuckle. “Yes, Ma’am.”
His pace was slow at first, achingly so and deliberate. But it didn’t last long. From laying on your back on the cold, marble kitchen counter, you found yourself bent over on the kitchen table, with Aaron’s girthy cock ramming in and out of your cunt. And all you could do was take it, moaning loudly to Aaron’s satisfaction.
“Fucking hell. Should’ve fucked this pussy long before–” he rambled deeply from behind, pistoling his hips at a brutal pace. “You like this, huh? You like Daddy fucking your tight pussy?”
You bit your thumb as your legs trembled, but you didn’t answer.
And that’s when you felt it.
A harsh slap on your ass.
“Answer me, you fucking slut,” he drawled in between heavy breaths. “Did I fuck you dumb, huh?”
“Y-yes–” you struggled to say, trying to keep your legs steady amidst the intense waves of pleasure. “G-good… so much…”
Aaron barked an amused laugh. “Fuck. You sound so cockdrunk.”
With each thrust, you felt the familiar coil tightening on your stomach. Your words were muffled as you tried to warn him, and all that came out of your lips was a high-pitched whimper. 
Aaron’s grip on your hips hardened. “I’m c-close. Where should I cum, angel? Inside? Should I cum inside?”
“C-close…” you echoed mindlessly, not understanding a word he said.
“Do you want me to fuck a baby inside you?”
“Yes… y-yes… inside, Daddy, please....”
Tears streamed down your cheeks when you felt Aaron’s hot cum spill inside you, his thick cock throbbing. You trembled against him as you reached your own climax, your lips drawn to a silent scream as he expertly rubbed your clit through your orgasm.
“One more. Can you give Daddy one more, sweet girl?” you heard him whisper encouragingly.
With a strained moan and eyes shut tight, you finally let out a gush of release. The force was so sudden Aaron had to pull out and watch his own cum drip down your thighs. His eyes widened a fraction as he stared at the pool of wetness glistening on his kitchen floor.
And fucking hell, that felt so good.
Aaron didn’t waste a second and quickly knelt behind you, separating your weak and trembling legs carefully before running his tongue on your spent and dripping cunt. You shivered at the feeling of his beard scratching the back of your thigh but you let him, enjoying the feeling of his tongue following the trail of his own release that drips down your legs.
“Too m-much, Aaron. Please…” you plead softly, sighing as you felt his fingers spread out your pussy.
“Just a taste, angel. Can you push out more of my cum?”
He keened and hummed as he gathered his own release on his tongue. And before you even know it, he was already kissing you, watching his own cum and spit reach your waiting tongue as you innocently glanced up at him, a far-gone look on your face.
“You’re such a sweet girl,” he whispered later on as he gently laid you down on his warm bed, now wrapped in his old, oversized t-shirt and newly bathed.
He placed a chaste kiss on your forehead, and cheeks, then nose, before kissing you lovingly on the lips. “Rest now, sweetheart. I’ll take you on a proper date tomorrow.”
For tag list request, here.
Your girl finally got her energy back after taking 4 pills of Vitamin B. LOL. Sorry for the long wait! Anyway, as always, likes, reblogs, and comments are highly appreciated. Hope you're having an incredible day and drink your water! (PS. Do you guys know I just realized I can reblog your reblogs with comments? I'm so dumb.)
Tags: @kimstills @readergf @downbad4reid @gghostwriter @elhotchner @pastelpinkflowerlife @the1boss @roseydoesypoesy @khxna @hangmanscoming @apollolynx98 @its-just-me-chey
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wandaverse · 3 months ago
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you could do it on your own (while you’re looking at me)
ceo!wanda x assistant!reader headcanons
tags: dom!milf!wanda, bimbo!pillowprincess!reader, smut, mentions of strap
— when she meets the group of applicants, wanda instantly knows who she wants. you’re a wide eyed fresh of out uni graduate with barely anything on your resume, but you’re exactly what she wants; a pretty girl who’s pliant and can fulfil her less than professional needs and demands
— before you, wanda always kept her office blinds down and door shut. now, she keeps them wide open so she can see you sitting at your desk like her perfect pretty princess right outside
— a few weeks after you’re hired, wanda orders you to wear skirts everyday. “it’s protocol,” she says. you don’t argue and merely nod with an obedient smile (it sends a rush through her body and she has to excuse her to the bathroom)
— when you attend business events by her side, often rich men think they have the right to lay their eyes on you. wanda quickly remedies that by slinking her arm around your waist and pulling you snuggly to her side
— afterwards, wanda learns to start leaving hickies or lipstick stains (or both) all over your neck and collarbones and chest and everywhere else people can see so they know exactly who you belong to
— wanda packs more often than not and you develop a new routine. during her lunch break (or earlier if neither of you can wait that long), you come in and she takes you on her desk, against the window, on the couch, on the floor, or even against the door for everyone outside to hear if they listen hard enough. she doesn’t think there’s a single inch of her office that she hasn’t christened with your touch
— other times when the day is slow or you’re bored (which is more often than not (she really didn’t hire you for your skills or work ethic)), you sneak into her office without knocking. like a bunny, you prance across the room and unzip her pants before sitting on her lap and warming her strap for the rest of the day
— your favourite position though is when you’re seated comfortably on the edge of her desk. even more so on the days she walks into the office wearing a tie. you become obsessed with pulling her into a kiss by the tie around her neck as she slots between your legs and you’re sat on her desk with your skirt hiked up around your waist
— when you get a little greedy with your touch, wanda resorts to yanking her tie off and using it to bind your hands together behind your back. you secretly love the thrill of being hers to play with when she does
— looking up at her with innocent and sleepy eyes in the afterglow, you request that she wears ties more often. and well, who is she to refuse her pretty princess
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homeofthelonelywriter · 4 months ago
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Not your Burden Prologue
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"Are you sure you don’t want to move in with me?”
A smile spread on your lips, though it quickly shifted into a frown as you gently set down the heavy cardboard box, holding the rest of your belongings. It had been two months since your father’s monthly payments stopped. Two months since, no matter what you tried, you couldn’t reach your dad or anyone close to him. Two months since you’ve been trying to find a job, but no luck so far. In the end, you decided to move out of the apartment your dad had insisted on you renting, and moved into a smaller and cheaper one.
“Nah, I’ll be fine, I promise.” Your best friend frowned, concern painted across her face. For someone who was usually so carefree, she now looked like she was about to suffer a breakdown.
“I know you don’t like my roommates, but they aren’t so bad once you get to know them. And I’m really worried about leaving you here. This part of town just isn’t safe.” You chuckled and nodded. She was right after all.
The only place you could afford with the rest of your savings was in the part of town everyone was warned to stay away from. The part with the highest crime rate in the entire city. The part where just a few weeks ago, a dead college student had been found. But what were you to do? As much as you loved your friend, her male roommate was creepy and you didn’t like the way he looked at you. No way you’d survive moving in with them. So, the cheap apartment in the creepy part of town it was.
“I’ll be fine, I promise. I have pepper spray and my dad had me learn self-defense. If anyone tries something funny, you’ll have to worry about him, not me!” A grin spread across your lips as you gave her a thumbs up, trying to look as confident as possible. In response, she just rolled her eyes.
“Fine, but…you better facetime me whenever you’re walking home. And have your location on at all times, you hear me?” You nodded and pulled out your phone, quickly turning the location share on, so she would stop worrying. As much as you loved her, it was starting to get repetitive.
Your friend continued to help you, before you ushered her out, telling her to get home safely and before it got dark out. Then you continued to move in, unpacking and slowly getting comfortable. Well…as comfortable as you could get when there were what felt like constant sirens and other noises you weren’t too happy to hear. Banging and moans from your next-door neighbors, screams and crashing from upstairs, and weird gurgling from the hallway. Good thing you had some noise-cancelling headphones, sounded like you would need them.
You had to admit, the first few nights, you didn’t sleep much. The noises and the general paranoia were enough to keep you up, but after a week or so, you got used to it. You put a knife on your nightstand, put a chair against the door, and glasses against the windows. To be honest, you developed your own little routine, which you quite enjoyed. And if you added the job hunt - which had still not been successful - and the work for college, you rarely had the energy to truly care about your situation at the end of the day.
Another week or so went by and you found yourself in the cafe on the campus, sending out more job applications, but it seemed like no one wanted to hire a college student who could only work odd hours. Frustration wafted through you, so you decided to grab another drink and quickly got in line, not paying attention to your surroundings. You promptly gave your order and went to pay, but before you could, the person behind you spoke up, “I got it.”, and before you could interject, they placed tapped their card, and your order was paid for.
When you turned around to thank the kind stranger, you quickly realized it wasn’t a stranger. “Mister Riley?”
Next Part
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A/N: Since it's been almost a year since I posted the idea, let's try this. Let me know what you think!
@alilstressyandlotdepressy @brickwall035 @trampondemand @inarabee @blinca @rileys3dworld
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acmeangel · 3 months ago
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♡ Levi hires you to work at his tea shop, and the two of you become close.
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♡ SFW fluff! ♡ Postwar!Levi x Fem!Reader ♡ One shot, soft Levi, friends to lovers vibes ♡ Word count: 2416 ♡ Summary: Levi hired you years ago to work at his tea shop, back when it was brand new. Over the years, you became close friends, and recently developed into more. You're both a bit rough around the edges, but get each other in a way no one else can. You're like two black cats in love.
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It was years ago that you'd walked by Levi's tea shop in Marley and noticed the piece of paper pinned to the door that simply said "Hiring." in bold, slightly messy, handwriting.
Your eyebrows raised despite yourself, slightly amused by the straightforwardness of the sign -- no frills, no details, no niceties.
Marley had only just started to get on its feet again after a full year of scraping by while rebuilding, trying to shake off the lingering fears and treat the deepest wounds. Everyone was on the precipice of healing, and you figured it was as good a time as any to bring back some normalcy into your life. Working at a tea shop seemed like a decent enough way to do that; quiet, peaceful, easy enough. You were never much of a people person, but you could handle basic customer interactions.
When you'd entered the tea shop, you were met with Levi, who was behind the counter, a focused -- but not harsh -- look on his face as he neatly stacked boxes of tea into an orderly pyramid, a small display of the tea flavors. The bell above the door jingled as you entered, and he looked up at you, his gaze narrowing slightly, his hands pausing their precise movements. You got a clear look at his face -- the cloudy white eye, the healing scars tracing patterns into his skin.
"Hiring?" You asked, simply, nodding toward the sign on the window.
His eyes darted toward the sign, as if he'd forgotten that he put it there, and then fell back onto you.
"Guess so," he answered, his voice lacking any sort of feeling about the matter. "You want to work here?"
Before answering, your gaze scanned along the interior of the tea shop -- it was small and sparsely decorated, but not in a cold way. It was simple, comforting. Small wooden tables dotted the perimeter, intricately painted ceramic tea cups were stacked behind the counter, a few plants sat in the windowsills, drinking in the hazy sunlight.
"Yeah." Your gaze found his again, and you nodded. "I do."
"'Kay." His focus returned to the pyramid of tea boxes, his hands continuing to organize the stack. "What makes you qualified?"
"It's making tea," you retorted, dryly, without thinking. "Not mechanical engineering." You regretted it the instant you said it, realizing you'd likely butchered your chances of getting hired and that you should've made something up about having a passion for serving the community.
Without moving his head, his eyes drifted toward you, and you could see the faintest look of amusement tugging on his lips.
"Fine." This was all he had said, and you waited for him to ask more questions to evaluate you further, but they never came.
You stood there, somewhat awkwardly, watching as he continued working on his little display of boxes. Once he was finished, he tossed an apron over the counter toward you, which you caught, the fabric balled up into your hands. You were hired.
Surprisingly, it didn't take long for you to get accustomed to working alongside Levi. Neither of you were particularly talkative, preferring to keep to yourselves as you did your individual tasks; but, even separately, you worked in perfect harmony together, a seamless fit.
Over the years, it became less that you worked for Levi, and more that you worked with him, the tea shop turning into something that belonged to the both of you. It was never something that was discussed, it was just understood.
You'd started adding your touches to the shop -- art hung on the walls, pillows on the chairs, little knickknacks here and there. The shop was undeniably warmer and more inviting, and even though Levi would narrow his gaze each time you added something new, he never stopped you.
One day, he'd even shown up and placed a small ceramic cat on the counter, adjusting its position just so, though he wouldn't tell you where he got it. You'd teased him, somewhat relentlessly, about it, to which he blushed despite himself and muttered that it was never going to happen again, that you were a horrible nuisance in his life; you called him "such a baby", but made him a cup of black tea and all was forgiven. He brought a new plant into the shop the following week.
You'd share knowing glances with each other whenever a customer was particularly talkative or bothersome, and after they'd leave, you'd gripe to each other about it.
During breaks or lulls in the day, you'd both hover over the same book on the counter, reading simultaneously, your shoulders brushed together just barely. You wouldn't say anything, or even share your thoughts or opinions -- you'd just read, together, settled into the quiet of the tea shop.
As the time passed on, you'd begun to care for Levi, in a way you hadn't expected, hadn't experienced before. When he'd occasionally burn his hand on the stove, you'd hold the ice to his hand. When he had a cold (which he'd never admit to), you'd bring him soup from the cafe down the street. When you could tell he hadn't been sleeping well, you'd tell him to go home early and you'd handle cleaning up and closing the shop.
He'd always frown slightly and say something about how you shouldn't go through the trouble, that he can take care of himself, but you could tell that he appreciated it, that he might have even begun to count on it. You'd usually just tell him to shut up. He'd laugh, barely.
You knew, somehow, that you were the only person he let treat him this way -- gentle, caring.
You two had developed a quiet sort of friendship. You didn't talk all that much, you never saw each other outside of the shop, and you were both a bit rough around the edges. But, you fit together. Understood each other. It was as simple as that.
That was how it had been for years, which is why it took you by surprise when, on one particularly cold winter night, Levi insisted on going with you as you walked home after closing. You'd hesitated for a moment to answer, recalling all of the rainy, snowy, cold late nights that you'd walked home alone before, but the expression on his face told you that any protesting would be pointless. So, you let him.
Once you'd arrived at your front door, the two of you lingered silently on your porch, the only sound the soft creaking of the wood below and the brisk wind shuffling through the trees.
"Thanks for taking me home, Levi," you'd said, pulling your key out of your coat pocket and beginning to reach for the door. "Goodni-"
His hand clasped around your wrist, halting your movement. Your eyes snapped to his face, his gaze secured onto his grip on your wrist. A stretched moment of quiet passed between you two, as you waited for him to say something, but he didn't.
"Okay," you said, drawing the word out, raising an eyebrow slightly as you look at him. "Are you holding me hostage because you think it'd be funny to see me freeze to death out here, or...?"
The tension in his expression dissipated slightly, your dry, teasing tone eased his frayed nerves with a comforting familiarity. He'd gotten used to you, to the way you spoke; it became one of the few, small things he'd ever allowed himself to rely on.
"Y/N," he said, his tone taking on a softness, a somewhat pleading vulnerability that you'd never heard before, as his eyes finally drifted up to meet your gaze. The cloudy grayness in his eye faded into a pale, ethereal blue under the moonlight, the features of his face illuminated, exposed.
He didn't have to say another word. You knew exactly what he meant. That was just the way you two worked.
"Yeah," you'd whispered, knowingly, the word pillowing into the cold air.
His hand slid down your wrist to your hand, his rough, calloused fingers gripping around yours with a sense of uncertainty and newness, like he was learning a new language. He tugged gently, drawing you in, close enough that when both of you breathed, the visible clouds mixed together.
His free hand rose to your face, slowly grasping around your jaw. His teeth clenched slightly, a hint of self-consciousness in his gaze as he looked at the gap his missing fingers left on your cheek; feeling unable to hold you completely.
"Don't," you whispered, somewhat sternly, urging the self-doubt out of his gaze. Your hand flew up to cover his, holding it against your face, the missing fingers not even a thought in your mind.
"You always do that." The words came out as a rough, tumbling statement.
Your lips curled into a faint smile, your head tilted into his palm. "Do what?"
"Protect me," he whispered, his eyes searching yours, "from myself, mostly."
"Can't help it," you whispered back, the words softening his gaze even further.
Before he could think about it more, before he could stop himself, he pulled you in closer, only a sliver of cold air between your lips. He paused for a beat, drawing in a shallow breath, before closing the space. His lips trembled against yours for a fleeting second, before melting against yours. A perfect fit.
His grip on your cheek tightened slightly, his lips moved against yours with a quiet desperation, as if communicating all the words he'd been wanting to say.
He broke the kiss just as suddenly as it started, his lips remaining parted, soft and glistening.
"Goodnight, Y/N," he whispered, before leaning in to press a kiss on your cheek by your ear, his thumb brushing against your jaw one last time. He took one last look at you, his expression somewhat unreadable, before turning and leaving you at your doorstep.
That night was not too long ago, only a few weeks had passed since. Your relationship was like a delicate melody -- starting slow and gentle, then blooming into a perfectly synchronized symphony.
He'd started bringing you home every night, and he'd come inside for a while, sitting on your couch with you, talking more than he ever had (which still wasn't much, by most people's standards). You'd make dinner for the two of you, drape a blanket on his lap on the couch, gently tend to the scars on his face when they'd occasionally get irritated.
You'd lean your head on his shoulder, intertwine your fingers with his. Sometimes, he'd lean into your touch, slinging an arm around you and letting his head settle into the curve of your neck. Your fingers would stroke his hair softly or trace patterns up and down his back.
He'd always thank you at the end of the night and kiss you as if you were about to disappear into thin air. While he never specified what he was thanking you for, you knew he was thanking you for taking care of him.
That's all you really wanted to do -- care for him. You knew that his scars ran deeper than the visible ones, and the more he shared bits of his past with you, you could tell that he never had it easy. His life, until now, was one of fighting, survival, and loss. All you wanted was to alleviate some of the pain, some of the weight that had built up within him for so long.
So, you did these little things to dote on him, to show him what true affection felt like, in hopes that someday, he'd realize how deserving he is of it. That over time, the little things would grow into bigger things, that affection wouldn't be so foreign and unsettling to him. You were willing to wait.
He was by your front door now, slinging his jacket onto his shoulders, preparing to head home after another night spent together. You'd sat on the couch, his head on your shoulder, and he'd just finished telling you a simple story about Furlan and Isabel, who you'd learned about recently.
"Levi," you begin, your eyes shifting toward the window, at the powdery snow flurrying through the air. "It's freezing outside, you need more than a jacket."
His gaze follows yours out the window, his expression remaining unfazed. "It's just snow, Y/N."
You ignore him, and grab a knit, brightly colored scarf from the coat rack and hand it to him, your expression stern, but gentle. "Wear this."
"What? You can't be serious. I'll look ridiculous," he looks at you and the scarf dubiously, his brows pressed together with distaste. "I'll be fine."
"Would you just shut up and take it?" You roll your eyes, but you smile, affectionately. Before he can object further, you wrap the scarf around him, earning a groan from the back of his throat.
His nose scrunches slightly in disapproval, and the corners of his lips curve downward, but he lets you finish placing the scarf around his neck.
"Thanks, Y/N," he mumbles, leaning in to kiss your cheek, the touch soft and fleeting.
Mhm, you hum softly, satisfied with your little victory. You think he's about to turn and leave, but he doesn't -- he’s there, still, looking at you for a long moment.
"What, hoping to get a matching beanie?" You tease, warmly, a laugh escaping your lips.
He shakes his head.
"I told you a while ago that I never felt like I had a home before. Not a real one, anyway. But..." he says, his voice taking on a softened introspection, a gentleness to his face that you've discovered he reserves only for you. "I think this is it."
"Marley? Yeah, it's not so bad. Told you you'd get used to it," you say, a gentle, affectionate teasing in your voice, your fingers adjusting the scarf around his neck.
"No, Y/N. Not Marley," he corrects, his voice barely above a whisper, his gaze remaining intently fixated on yours. "You. You're my home."
Your expression melts, a faint pink blush rising to your cheeks. Your hand drifts up from the scarf to cradle his cheek, your thumb tracing his cheekbone.
He turns his head, his eyes remaining on you, and he presses a soft kiss into your palm. The kiss feels like he's making a promise to always be yours, and for you to always be his.
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Masterlist
Requests are OPEN!
Requested by @beautiful-is-boring
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captain-joongz · 10 months ago
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summer recap/favourite fics/fic recommendations for the first half of 2024
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Professor Rapline by @joonsmagicshop
♡ professors! joon, hobi and yoongs x f!reader, professor x student relationship, the rapline takes turns on reader, namjoon centric, smut smut smut
backtrack by @mapofthesea
♡ producers!jimin and yoongs x assistant!reader, studio sex, situationship, reader gets absolutely railed and it's accidentally recorded
Masked miracles by @remedyx + Shadows we trust by remedyx + Boyfriend for hire by remedyx + Trouvaille by @spookyserenades
♡ these series' were already mentioned in my previous recommendations list, but i cannot stress this enough - go read them, they're absolutely amazing!! i will literally never shut up about these and i'll put them on every fic rec list i make until the end of time :D
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Golden boy by @kpopfanfictrash
♡ pornstar!jin x f!reader, neighbours au, it's very sweet and funny, absolutely amazing smut
fast lane by @yminie
♡ racer!jin x pitcrew!reader, slowburn but so fucking worth it, kookie gets hurt but it's for character development, e2l/annoyances 2l, smut
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midnight by @miniminimermaid
♡ yoongi struggling with burnout and reader helps relax him, soft sex, body worship
Sugar rush ride by @lo1k-diamonds
♡ producer! yoongs x producer!reader, coworkers au, reader is bratty and yoongi is a little shit, mutual pining, smut
A new rhythm by @sluttywoozi
♡ producers! yoongs and jihoon x yoongi's gf!reader, virgin!jihoon, soft sex, they help woozi lose his v-card, allusions to possible poly
three tangerines by @kithtaehyung
♡ brother's best friend!yoongs x f!reader, fuckboy!yoongi, reader asks him for help in the bedroom and gets everything and more, some angst
The early shift by @hobidreams
♡ barista!yoongs x barista!reader, coworkers au, e2l, angsty but gets sweet, yoongi is struggling and reader tries to help, smutty smut smut
love roulette by @whatifyoulivelikethat
♡ producer!yoongs x jin's bff!reader, a bet gone... right??, slowburn, humour and fluff, they help each other, smut, reader has a noona kink and nobody lets her breathe
noise complaints by @jkstompers
♡ producer!yoongs x bassist!reader, neighbours au, reader is in a rock band, smut
strike a chord by @snackhobi
♡ pianist!yoongs x f!reader, reader gets stood up and instead listens to bar musician yoongi, slowburn, smut
Illicit favours by @yoongiofmine
♡ producer!yoongi x writer!reader, bff2l, virgin reader needs help with writing sex scenes, shenanigans ensue, mutual pining, idiots in love
Tricks of the trade by @stutterfly
♡ shopkeeper!yoongs x f!reader, body swap au, jin is a deity of chaos, awkward flirting cause they don't know hot to talk to each other, misunderstandings, sexual tension and smut
Performance evaluation by @kookscrescent
♡ fuckboy!yoongs x f!reader, college au, one night stand?? au, reader asks yoongi to tell her whether she's bad in bed, yoongi is a little shit but what's new
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Bad idea... right? by @joonsmagicshop
♡ college party au, e2l, sexual tension, tae is a little bit of a douche but hobi makes it all better, smut
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a word from our sponsors by @ugh-yoongi
♡ podcast co-hosts joon and reader, they read smutty fanfic of themselves, sexual tension, f2l, humour, smut
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porn director drabble by @badbtssmut
♡ director!tae x pornstar!reader, tae shows reader's co-star how it's done, public sex, dubcon in a way
Risk management by @chateautae
♡ investment banker!tae x f!reader, s2l, sexual tension (i mean, who could blame her it's tae), smut, window sex
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petty by @hamsterclaw
♡ rich kid petty criminal!kookie x lawer babysitter!reader, reader is in charge of making sure kookie doesn't get in trouble, idiots in love, sexual tension but with feels, smut
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Redamancy by @gimmethatagustd
♡ alpha!tae x omega!kookie, a/b/o, imprinting, scenting, older tae (*cough* daddy), s2l, love at first sight, smut
Like a river by gimmethatagustd
♡ alpha!tae x omega!yoongi x alpha!joon, a/b/o, unexpected heat, college professors coworkers au, semi-public sex
The love witch by gimmethatagustd
♡ demon!tae x romance blogger witch!yoongs, incubus tae, "how to summon a boyfriend" au, s2l, modern fantasy, smut
(actually you should go read everything jai has put out, she's incredibly talented and i love like every fic she's ever published)
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My library | ATEEZ fic recs
1K notes · View notes
sunarryn · 24 days ago
Text
DP X Marvel #20
Jazz Fenton was not supposed to become an urban legend, a media conspiracy theory, or a widely feared intern with multiple Tumblr fan accounts, but alas, here they were.
At 19 years old, Jasmine “Jazz” Fenton had moved to New York on a full scholarship to Columbia University, double majoring in psychology and business, with a minor in engineering just for fun. She wore blazers older than most Columbia freshmen, carried a briefcase instead of a backpack, and maintained a 4.0 GPA while ghost-proofing her dorm room using proprietary tech she’d built in high school. On the third day of orientation, she calmly tased a literal demon that crawled out of an upper-floor window of Butler Library and continued sipping her iced matcha like it was a Tuesday. Which, unfortunately, it was.
This act caught the attention of a lot of people, including—but not limited to—an NYPD exorcist division, a priest named Father Julio, two SHIELD interns on a coffee break, and Pepper Potts, who was in the city for a Stark Industries panel on sustainable weapons of mass deterrence.
“She tased a demon,” Pepper said slowly to her assistant.
“Yes, ma’am.”
“In broad daylight.”
“Correct.”
“And then she—what did she say again?”
The assistant glanced at their notes. “‘Don’t manifest on Ivy League property, it lowers our national rank.’”
Pepper stared into the distance. “Find her. And hire her.”
Within forty-eight hours, Jazz was sitting in a glass elevator ascending Stark Tower. She hadn’t applied for anything. She hadn’t submitted a résumé. But her phone pinged during a psych lecture with a Stark Industries-branded email that simply said, “Ms. Potts would like to speak to you,” followed by a GPS pin and a non-negotiable appointment time.
Tony, predictably, was not consulted.
“What do you MEAN she’s nineteen? What do you MEAN she’s your intern? Pepper, she built a plasma cannon in your office. In two hours. Using my old espresso machine.”
“It was broken,” Jazz added politely, scrolling through quantum schematics on her StarkPad. “And under OSHA, coffee-related injuries are still injuries. You’re welcome.”
Tony pointed a wrench at her like it was a gun. “You don’t scare me, you ginger menace.”
Jazz smiled faintly. “You should be scared. You tried to patent a neural override system with an open-ended quantum key. You’re lucky I fixed it before it broadcasted the location of every Stark tech asset on Earth.”
There was a pause.
Tony turned to Pepper. “She’s you. But worse. Why is she you but worse?”
“I don’t know,” Pepper murmured. “But I think I love her.”
The rumors started on week three.
At first, it was office gossip. Just little things. Intern was too tall. Too confident. Too quiet. You don’t trust the quiet ones. And then she reverse-engineered the Arc Reactor because she was bored on lunch break, and the quiet turned into fear.
“Is she—like—a clone or something?” asked one junior developer to another over ramen in the cafeteria.
“I heard she’s Tony’s secret daughter,” the other whispered. “Raised in a lab. Trained from birth. Like that kid in Kingsman but with algebra.”
One engineer swore they saw her casually deflect a pulse grenade using a file folder. Another caught her manually rebooting the Tower AI after it shorted out during a lightning storm—something that shouldn’t have been possible unless you had admin-level clearance, which Jazz absolutely did not have. In theory.
“Pepper,” Tony said slowly one morning, watching Jazz reprogram a malfunctioning security drone while also Skyping her Columbia psych professor, “do we have a bioengineered heir you forgot to tell me about?”
“No,” Pepper said, sipping coffee. “But if I die, she gets the company.”
Tony sputtered. “Excuse me?!”
Jazz didn’t look up. “I accept.”
The media got involved during Stark Industries’ spring gala.
Jazz, dressed in a midnight blue suit that cost more than her entire tuition, arrived at Pepper’s side like a storm. She was calm, composed, stunningly competent, and intercepted two would-be saboteurs in the first thirty minutes with nothing but a suspicious stare and a champagne flute.
“She’s Pepper’s daughter,” someone tweeted.
“She’s not old enough to be her daughter.”
“She’s her clone. Pepper 2.0. She even walks like her.”
“I would let her step on me.”
By the next morning, “#StarkHeir” was trending worldwide, and conspiracy theorists had posted side-by-side comparisons of Jazz and Pepper’s bone structures, speech patterns, and typing styles. Someone even made a Google doc of all their shared quirks. It had color-coded sections. There were charts.
Tony spent the entire week yelling.
“She’s NOT my kid! She’s not even related to Pepper!”
Pepper, annoyingly, did not help. “Technically, we don’t know she’s not.”
“Oh my god.”
Meanwhile, Jazz was unfazed.
“Should I post a clarification?” she asked.
“No,” said Pepper, texting casually. “Let them fear you.”
The Avengers had mixed feelings.
Steve was terrified of her. She reminded him too much of Natasha, if Natasha had spent her childhood in AP classes and the rest of her time inventing hover grenades. Sam and Rhodey liked her, mostly because she was polite and explained quantum mechanics in metaphors that involved pop tarts. Peter developed an immediate and debilitating crush, which she ignored with expert precision.
“Hi, Miss Fenton,” Peter said shyly one day, watching her reprogram a Stark drone mid-air while eating a bagel.
“Peter,” she said without looking up. “You have a calculus exam in twenty-two minutes and your spider-suit’s magnetic lock is uncalibrated.”
Peter turned pink. “Oh. Thanks. Wait—how did you—?”
She looked at him. “I am your god now.”
Peter nearly fainted.
Natasha liked her. Clint was afraid of her. Thor called her “Little Flame Witch” and offered to train her in Asgardian battle strategy, which she accepted, just to make Bruce nervous.
But it was Loki who said it first.
“She’s not of this world,” he muttered to Wanda during a conference meeting. “She carries too much silence for a mortal. Something follows her.”
He was right, of course.
Because sometimes, at night, the tower cameras would glitch. Alarms would blip off for three-point-two seconds. And if you reviewed the footage frame by frame, you’d catch a flicker of something—green light, spectral claws, shadows moving too fast.
Jazz never addressed it.
She just carried her ghost-hunting thermos in her tote bag and once drop-kicked a poltergeist out of the 35th floor without spilling her coffee. Pepper made her head of paranormal security the next day. Tony threw a chair.
“I HATE HER.”
“You’re jealous.”
“She made a hover-bomb out of printer ink and stale Red Vines. WHO DOES THAT.”
“She’s better than you, darling. Accept it.”
The Pentagon called.
Then SHIELD.
Then the President.
They all wanted meetings. Wanted the Stark Intern. Wanted the girl who built an anti-phasing grenade in her sleep and then used it to banish an interdimensional wraith that had haunted the UN for seventy years. She’d done it in kitten heels. While on speakerphone with Columbia discussing her thesis on behavioral disassociation and spectral trauma.
“Ms. Fenton,” said General Ross one day, sitting across from her in a secure Stark lab, “how old are you again?”
“Nineteen.”
He blinked. “And you… developed this ectoplasmic nullifier?”
“Yes.”
“From scratch?”
“I didn’t steal it, if that’s what you’re implying.”
Tony watched from the corner, snickering into a bag of popcorn.
“Careful, Ross,” he said. “She’s been known to vaporize military-grade egos.”
Jazz didn’t smile, but her eyes sparkled just a little.
The conspiracy peaked when a tabloid published an article titled “Pepper Potts’ Secret Daughter: Genius Intern or Bio-Engineered Successor?”
There were pie charts. Photos. A leaked voicemail from Tony yelling “SHE ISN’T MINE, YOU IMBECILES” that only made things worse.
One Tumblr post had over 800k notes and a list of reasons why Jazz was definitely a Potts-Stark hybrid, including, “built a laser harp,” “once told Elon Musk to ‘shut up before I make a better Tesla with a coffee maker and two forks,’” and “terrifying corporate aura.”
Jazz printed the post. Framed it. Hung it in her dorm.
Pepper just looked fond.
“I think you’ve officially surpassed me in public fear,” she said one afternoon as Jazz filed patents under twenty different shell companies.
Jazz shrugged. “You set the bar very high.”
“I’m proud of you.”
Tony sobbed in the background. “This is my nightmare.”
“Jazz,” said Pepper sweetly, “could you file a cease-and-desist against MIT for trying to recruit you illegally?”
“Already did. Also, I bought MIT using the company card.”
Tony screamed.
And through it all—ghost attacks, PR disasters, tech blackouts, alien entities, and one incident where Jazz weaponized her psych minor to dismantle a HYDRA agent’s entire worldview in a hallway—she remained completely, terrifyingly composed.
Because this was Jazz Fenton. The girl who survived Amity Park, ghost portals, mad science parents, and her half-dead little brother who punched death in the face on Tuesdays.
The Marvel universe had no idea what it had just unleashed.
But Pepper did.
She just smiled and handed Jazz her new badge: Chief Innovation Officer, Spectral Division.
“I think you’re ready for phase two.”
Jazz sipped her coffee. “Let’s haunt the world.”
225 notes · View notes
wonustars · 10 months ago
Text
Rain or Shine Cafe
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Ⱄ pairing: kwon soonyoung x f!reader Ⱄ wordcount: 10.5k Ⱄ genre: fluff, cafe coworkers au, suggestive
Ⱄ reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated ♡! tumblr is based on reblogs not likes, and they help writers like me to get better reach. thank you!
Ⱄ summary: with no umbrella in hand on a rainy day, you felt like your life couldn’t get any worse. losing your glasses while it’s pouring cats and dogs, well maybe your life really was the worst. thankfully a faceless stranger was there to pick up your glasses and hand you his umbrella. you weren’t able to ever thank him for his act of kindness, but the sweet memory stays with you for awhile.
Ⱄ tags/warnings: cafe coworkers!soonyoung and reader, dancer!soonyoung, reader wears glasses, set in vancouver canada, they develop feelings quickly, reader is a little type a, mentions of other svt members, mentions of alcohol, hoshi tiger agenda is very present, allusions to sex, making out, grinding, groping, heavy petting (thth host voice activated), if anything is missing here lmk!
Ⱄ note: it's finally here!! this is my fic for the world tour @svthub collab hehe. thank you to my two lovely beta readers @junkissed and @highvern who helped me so much (ily both sm) ♡!!!!!! and also to the svthub members who helped me when developing the banner for this fic :) i hope you all enjoy this fic because i loved writing it and hoshi is just so silly. its all fluffy and cute and no smut which is a first for me but i hope it's still enjoyable for u all hehe. talk to u soon - anna ♡
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Today was one of those days. The birds don’t sing in your wake, the sun doesn’t shine as bright. You weren’t sure what had been the catalyst to such a terrible day; maybe it was forgetting your umbrella, losing your glasses under the gloomy sky, or the rain that pitter-pattered against the pavement and mocked your misfortune.
It wasn’t until a faceless stranger entered your blurred field of vision, offering their umbrella and picking up your glasses. Before you could even thank them for their help, they whisked away so quickly that it was like they were a figment of your imagination. 
That small kind gesture had stuck with you for days, wondering if you would ever be able to meet them again. You desperately wished you could see what they looked like, but from the softness of their voice to their gentle touch, you had a feeling that their personality was just the same. 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
Working a shift at Rain or Shine Cafe is always the highlight of your day, especially after spending so many hectic hours at your university. The cafe was always serene, the customers were kind, and you liked how calming it would get once the Vancouver rain started to pour in. The droplets hit the glass windows in a rhythmic pattern that could probably put you to sleep if you allow. 
Rain or Shine Cafe was like your little haven from the busy city and university town. You were working the evenings while your boss, Seokmin, would cover the mornings. It was a little bit complicated with only the two of you, but you didn’t mind. You liked being the only person during your shift, it meant that you were practically your own boss. 
It wasn’t until the day that Seokmin decided it was time for a new hire, your safe space seemingly turned upside down. 
“Y/n, I’ve hired a new person, you’ll have to train them okay?” Seokmin informs you the moment you clock in. 
Giving him a defeated sigh, you knew it was time for a new coworker to join you. Although you hate the idea, you feel bad at how hard Seokmin works in the mornings, and on the rare occasions when you’re sick, evenings as well. 
“I don’t know Seokmin… are you sure I should be the one training them?” your tone wavers, if anything the owner would be able to do a better job than you at training the new hire. 
“What! You’ll do great, you’re my best employee after all,” he gives you a reassuring pat on your shoulder. 
With furrowed brows, your eyes bore holes into his back as he headed back to his office. 
“I’m your only employee!” you shout back while he can still hear you. 
The idea of having to train a new person after spending so much time finding your rhythm while working at the cafe doesn’t particularly thrill you. With many many prayers to the universe, you just hope they aren’t a pain in the ass to deal with. 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
Soonyoung wasn’t sure what to expect on his first day, and he was especially nervous because he’d never worked at a cafe before. Although his coordination is great when it comes to dancing, he isn’t so confident in his coffee-making skills. 
The moment he walked through the door, he saw your face shining against the afternoon sun, his heart beating so fast he thought he might have to go to the doctor for a serious case of heart palpitations. He can’t help but curse at himself silently, knowing that he is going to be extra nervous because of his extremely pretty coworker. 
As he approaches you he starts to feel a sense of familiarity bubbling at the bottom of his stomach. Wondering if he’d seen you around before, but he quickly scratched that idea knowing that there are millions of people living in the Greater Vancouver area. 
Clearing his throat he tries to get your attention as you delicately refill the pastry shelf with almond croissants and bagels. Your eyes turn towards the figure in front of the counter, assuming it’s another student from the university wanting to order. 
“U-uh hi,” Soonyoung blurts out, his pillowy cheeks turning red under your gaze. 
“Hi, what can I get for you?” you ask him, trying to ignore the awkwardness between you two. 
“Oh! I-I’m not here to order, I’m the new hire?” He tries to explain, but you can tell he feels a little unsure about being here at the cafe. 
“Oh. Soonyoung right?” 
“Yeah, that’s me, but uh- you can call me Hoshi,” he chuckles, scratching the back of his head. 
The words ‘play it cool’ keep repeating in his mind as he continues to talk to you, not wanting to make a bad first impression with his gorgeous new coworker. 
“Ah, I see, Hoshi,” you say apprehensively while nodding your head, yeah I’m not calling him that, you think to yourself. 
Seokmin told you that the new hire would be coming in for his first shift today, but he didn’t mention anything other than that. 
At first glance, Soonyoung wasn’t the type of person you expected Seokmin to hire. His dark clothing, bright blond hair and piercings along his ears didn’t scream “barista”. The aura around him screamed men’s fashion influencer just from the way he dresses. Although his clothes were casual you could tell there was still thought put into his outfit, from the baggy dark wash jeans to his graphic tee and earrings. 
“How about you come around the counter and clock in so we can get started,” you add as you finish placing the pastries on the display shelf. 
Scratching the back of his head he walks over only to hover behind you, a meek expression washes over his face. 
You turn to him with a quizzical eyebrow, not sure as to why he’s just standing there like a lost child in a supermarket. 
“H-how exactly do you clock in?” Soonyoung mumbles while twiddling his thumbs. 
“Seokmin didn’t show you where to clock in?” You question him. 
There was a part of you that had a feeling that you might have to teach him every little thing around the cafe. When Seokmin told you the new hire was coming in today, you were hoping that they would at least have a little bit of background knowledge. 
“U-uh no he pretty much hired me on the spot and told me to come in today,” he mutters, feeling a little embarrassed by your judgement, “this is actually my first job ever.” 
“Ever?” 
“Yeah, so I’m not sure why he even hired me, but I needed a job so I didn’t turn it down,” he continues, the blush on his soft cheeks becoming more apparent. 
You sigh deeply, this shift is going to feel a lot longer than you initially thought. Knowing it’s his first job means that you’ll have to train him a little slower. As you walk to show him where to clock in you silently pray that he’s a fast learner. 
Soonyoung can tell that you’re not excited to train him, and he feels bad that he doesn’t have the experience to be good at his job right away. But he’s determined to learn quickly, not wanting to disappoint you or Seokmin. 
He spent most of his time in university being able to pay for his expenses from his dance scholarship and the little money he was given from his parents, but unfortunately, it wasn’t enough to fund his trip for his and his dance troupe’s upcoming competition. 
They had entered a national competition taking place in Seattle and although the commute was only a two-hour road trip, there were so many other fees that he couldn’t afford unless he found a way to earn money. Plus if he wanted to fund both his dance trip and tiger collection, it was either he get a job near his school or he would have to resort to selling feet pics online. But getting a job at the cafe seemed like the safer and more logical option. 
“Well now that you’ve clocked in, this is your apron and the tag that Seokmin made you,” you inform him while handing him his things. 
Soonyoung doesn’t say a word, only nodding while listening to you explain how everything works at the cafe. 
“First we need you to learn all the drinks that we serve,” you explain, pushing the double doors that lead back to the main room of the building. 
“Okay, I can do that, it can’t be that hard right?”  Hoshi shrugs, trying his best to act nonchalantly to mask his nervousness. 
“Wait-No! That’s wrong,” your voice raises in panic as you watch Soonyoung put a fresh shot of espresso into the plastic to-go cup. 
Freezing, his eyes go wide as his mouth forms an ‘O’ shape and you start to scramble with panic. The plastic started to shrivel from the heat of the coffee. 
“I’m sorry! I didn’t know it would melt!” he exclaims, pouring the contents into the sink. 
It had been an hour of teaching Soonyoung how to make the drinks that were on the cafe menu, and he had somehow made a mistake every single step of the way. Thankfully today is a slower day in the cafe, allowing Soonyoung to observe your routine on serving customers. 
“It’s fine, how about we take a break and I'll show you how to use the oven to heat the pastries,” you sigh with defeat. 
Soonyoung’s face drops a little because he knows that he’s disappointed you. He wishes that he was good at his job the same way he is with dancing but his naturally good coordination and reflexes can only take him so far. 
“If a customer asks for a pastry they can have the option for them to be toasted in the oven, you just need to use the tongs and place them onto the rack,” you explain, demonstrating the steps that you would usually take, “then you don’t want to set the timer for more than twenty seconds or it’ll burn.” 
Soonyoung nods along, trying to follow your instructions closely, but he can’t help but get distracted by your features. Your hair is tied up, and glasses perched on your nose as you try to concentrate. He knows that it’s important to pay attention but he can’t help but feel attracted to you. There was a certain familiarity to you that he couldn’t seem to pinpoint. He hasn’t felt like this about someone he just met ever, and it’s not helping that you’re the one teaching him how to do his job properly. 
If he could stare at you during his whole shift instead of working, he would. 
“Does everything make sense so far?” you pull him out of his thoughts, staring at him expectantly. 
“Yeah, the pastry stuff seems like the most simple thing so far,” he comments, watching you put the croissant into a bag to eat after you’re off work. 
“How about we go back to making more test drinks? Just so you can get the hang of it,” you offer, wanting him to get more practice just in case it’s a busy day the next time he comes in for a shift. 
“Sure, you’re a great teacher by the way, I’m just new to all this,” he comforts you. 
“Thanks, and don’t worry too much, you’ll get better with time,” you pat his shoulder. 
You give him a smile of gratitude. The past few hours had you doubting your knowledge, patience, and teaching skills all at the same time. But his words of reassurance make you feel him warm inside. 
The way Soonyoung’s cheeks puff as he smiles makes you giggle. There was something about his soft features that made him so endearing, which made you feel a little bad for raising your voice at him earlier while he was trying to learn. 
Sure, he’s not the smartest when it comes to working at a cafe, but you have faith that he’ll be able to learn as time goes by. From the looks of it, Soonyoung seems determined to do better, that or he’s faking it. Either way, you owe it to Seokmin to show him everything you know. 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
“So…” Seokmin looks at you expectantly while you get ready to start your shift, “how was it?” 
“Well… he’s definitely new,” you sigh as you put on your apron and clock in. 
Seokmon gives you a concerned look, he felt a little bad for handing Soonyoung over to you knowing he had zero experience working in a cafe, but he trusted you, his best (only) employee to be able to train him well.
“Everything went well though, right?” he asks you, trailing behind you like a lost puppy. 
You can’t help but laugh at the way he follows you to the counter, wanting to hear every detail about what happened during your last shift. 
There wasn’t much to say other than the fact that Soonyoung wasn’t very good at his job, but you don’t want to be an asshole and rat him out when you could tell how eager he is to do his job properly. Instead, you decided to lie to your kind, and very naive boss. 
“Oh he’s perfect, honestly you made the right decision in hiring him,” you force a smile. 
Seokmin’s eyes light up with excitement, you could practically see his imaginary tail wagging back and forth with happiness. He trusts you so much that he never thought to hire anyone else, meaning this was a big step for him and the cafe. You could already start to feel the guilt seep into your nerves as he stared at you with so much trust.
“Really? Oh, thank god, I was so nervous when he told me he’s never had a job in his life before, honestly Y/n, I’m so happy and I’m sure things will–” Seokmin is cut off by the jingle of the bell above the door. 
Both your heads whip around as Soonyoung enters the cafe with a bright smile along his lips, refreshed from the last time he was in and ready to work a real shift this time. His clothing was more appropriate for work, a simple black tee shirt and black pants, his blond hair reflecting with the sun, giving him a halo effect. 
You wish you had met Soonyoung in different settings, then you would be able to admit how attractive he is. If only he wasn’t such a clutz, then maybe you would have a full-blown crush on him. 
“Afternoon Soonyoung,” Seokmin smiles at him. 
Fridays were always the busiest days at the cafe, even during the evening. You're just hoping that the odds were in your favour and Soonyoung actually retained all the information you told him last time you saw him. 
“Afternoon everyone!” he exclaims cheerfully. 
Waving at him you watch him descend to the back to clock in for his shift, your stomach churns with anxiety because you aren’t sure how well today is going to go. 
“Okay Y/n I’m off, you’re in charge as always,” Seokmin declared before leaving. 
… 
About half an hour into your shift, the pace of the cafe started to pick up and the line was starting to get longer. As the clock hit three-thirty, all the university students started to pile into the tiny building. 
You were starting to sweat and because Soonyoung still doesn’t know how to make all of the drinks you put him on cashier and pastry duty. It seems to be the only way that you were able to get through to all the customers in a timely manner. 
“Is there really only two of you?” A male customer whines at the back of the line, clearly annoyed by the wait. 
“Yes, unfortunately, this is usually the busiest time of the day for us,” you try to explain politely, but your anger issues start to creep up onto the surface. 
The overstimulation from the heat of the coffee as well as the chatter of customers was causing your patience to thin. You didn’t want to have to argue with anyone today, especially because you had a newbie working with you. 
“Could you at least hurry it up?” He scoffs, eyes rolling with annoyance. 
You don’t reply to his complaints, because if you were to start talking you would probably end up starting a fight mid-shift. 
“Dude, you can’t talk to her like that,” Soonyoung retaliated, obviously annoyed with the whiny customer. 
“What’d you say to me?” the customer fumes, coming to the front of the counter. 
The two men size up each other while you stand there a little shocked at how fast Soonyoung was to defend you. 
Soonyoung scowls as he stares at the asshole who was yelling at you. He wasn’t expecting people to get so angry over coffee but he wasn’t going to let someone disrespect you. 
“I said, you can’t talk to her like that,” he seethes, looking at the customer up and down with his chest puffed out, “if you’re so sick of waiting then go somewhere else.” 
“You know what I will. I don’t want some slow bitch making my drink anyways,” the customer retorts. 
“Fuck you! And don’t come back!” Soonyoung yells at his descending figure and turns at you silently asking if you were alright. 
His soft eyes had your heart palpitating, you never took him for the type of person to defend you from mean customers. If you weren’t fully attracted to him before, now you are. There was something about the way his demeanour had changed while trying to protect you that made you look at him in a different light. 
… 
By the time it was closer to the end of both you and Soonyoung’s shift, the amount of customers coming in slowed down considerably, allowing you to rest after what had happened earlier. 
The sun was down and it was nearing eight in the evening. While you were cleaning the counters and organizing for the morning shift, Soonyoung was mopping the floors and putting the chairs back in order. He looked peaceful as he was cleaning, you couldn’t help but stare. 
Soonyoung’s jawline is sharp as he appears to be deep in thought, and you allow yourself to admire the way his biceps flexed under his shirt as he swayed the mop back and forth. The veins along his forearms popped with each movement he made, you practically had to pinch yourself in order to not get caught ogling at him. 
“Uhm, I just wanted to say thanks for earlier, you didn’t have to do all that,” you speak up, catching his attention, “I appreciate it.” 
Soonyoung chuckles while shaking his head, giving you that same smile he did on the first day. The one that made his eyes look like a cute emoticon, and his cheeks puffy as if he were a hamster. 
“It wasn’t that big of a deal, I wasn’t going to let that asshole talk to you like that,” he shrugs nonchalantly. 
“Yeah I know, but still, thank you,” you reiterate, heat starting to creep up your neck as you recall the way he acted earlier.
“Of course,” he continues to smile before he says something you didn’t expect, “also, I know we’re not all that close, but me and my friends were going to go to the bar down the street. Do you want to join us?” 
Your eyes widen in shock, an answer flying out of your mouth before you can even think properly, “Sure!” 
“Okay, cool!” his eyes lit up at your acceptance to his invite, “we’re going to watch one of my friend’s shows, so you can meet me here again at like, 10 pm?”
“Are you sure they’re okay with me coming though? I don’t wanna impose,” you ask with uncertainty. 
“Yeah, of course, they’re chill,” he reassures you before going back to finish his task. 
Turning around you silently scream at the thought of going out with Soonyoung, being able to talk to him off work hours, it made you blush deeply. You don’t understand why you’re reacting this way all of a sudden as if you weren’t constantly annoyed by his clumsiness just a week ago, but you’re not opposed to the feelings of your developing crush on your coworker. 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
This was the first time in Soonyoung’s life that he had been wrecked with nervousness. Not even when he was performing on stage did his nerves get the best of him. You were just so pretty, and the more he worked with you, the more he wanted to get to know you, to interact with you outside the cafe and learn more about your personality. 
“Soonyoung!” he hears you call out for him, forcing him to look up from the pavement. 
His heart beats out of his chest, and his palms start to sweat. Your hair is down and frames your face. As you start to get closer he allows himself to appreciate the view in front of him. The moonlight shining above, the stars twinkling beautifully and yet he can’t seem to take his eyes off of you. 
Your outfit suited you so well, a short skirt, an oversized graphic tee and a pair of knee-high boots. So this is what you look like outside of work, Soonyoung thought to himself. He already found you attractive in your work clothes, with your brown apron and baseball cap. But seeing you like this made his mouth go dry, forcing him to gulp like a starved man. 
“H-hey! You look really good,” he stutters and he curses at himself silently from how nervous he is. 
“Thank you, you too,” you blush, a timid expression falling on your face, not being able to meet his eyes as you play with the keychain on your bag. 
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, his head nudging in the direction of the bar. 
You nod with a smile, following his steps toward your destination. With clammy hands, you grip the strap of your bag while you and Soonyoung walk in perfect harmony. This is the first time you’ve gone for a night out in a while, and your body is filled with nervousness and excitement at the thought of being able to spend more time with Soonyoung. 
… 
“Hoshi! The show is about to start, what took you so long?” a brown-haired man calls out, walking towards the two of you. 
His eyes widened with curiosity, realizing that Soonyoung hadn’t come to the bar alone tonight. 
“And who is this?” he asks, observing you closely with a glass of beer in his hand. 
“Y/n, this is Seungkwan, Kwan, this is Y/n,” Soonyoung introduces the two of you, and you can only reply with a shy wave and smile. 
“I see,” he mutters, taking a sip from his glass. 
Seungkwan’s eyes are boring holes into your face and it causes your cheeks to heat up. 
“She’s my coworker at Rain or Shine,” Soonyoung adds, before giving Seungkwan a pointed look. 
Seungkwan, although usually friendly, is very intrigued as to why you were brought over to hang out with Soonyoung and their friends tonight. It wasn’t a normal occurrence for Soonyoung to bring anyone new to Vernon’s shows, especially a girl. He concluded that you must mean something to Hoshi, and not just because you’re his coworker. 
“Ohh okay, it’s nice to meet you,” Seungkwan smiles and that allows you to let out a breath of relief that you didn’t realize that you were holding, “but we should get to our seats, the show is about to start.” 
There’s a collective agreement and the three of you head over to a reserved table that’s located closer to the stage. It must be a perk to know the band that was playing because it had the best view in the bar. 
As you reach the table you meet with a few more people sitting around talking and drinking. Your naturally introverted attitude increases tenfold when your eyes lay on the group of men talking loudly and laughing with each other. 
“Soonyoung’s finally here! And he’s brought a friend,” Seungkwan announces, his back facing you and you don’t catch the way his eyebrows wiggle suggestively. 
The group’s conversation is cut off and they go over to greet you and Soonyoung. They were all so tall and attractive, you didn’t expect it at all. But it somehow makes sense that someone as good-looking as Soonyoung would also have good-looking friends. 
“Y/n, this is Chan, Mingyu and Minghao,” Soonyoung introduces you, pointing everyone out one by one. 
“Hi, I work with Soonyoung at the cafe,” you greet them with a small wave. 
The three men smile at you warmly before you sit down, and Mingyu is the first one to talk to you. You’re awestruck at how attractive he is, his wide smile and sharp teeth poking out added a charming factor to him that you wouldn’t notice if it were anyone else. 
“Hi, did you want something to drink?” he asks you, his voice husky and warm. 
“A diet coke and rum is fine,” you tell him and he nods before getting up and heading to the bar. 
Watching him walk away, you turn your attention back onto Soonyoung who seems to be deep in conversation with Chan. Seeing him laugh and talk with his friends is new to you, and it makes your stomach flutter at how concentrated he is. 
“No I can’t give you the leftover pastries, stop asking me, I literally just started working there,” Soonyoung groans as Chan begs him for leftover almond croissants. 
A giggle escapes your lips as you watch how desperate Chan is for a free croissant, you’ve never seen someone so passionate over bread before. 
“I can give one to Soonyoung next time we close, we always have leftovers,” you chime in, giving Chan a warm smile.
Chan practically lights up with excitement and Soonyoung rolls his eyes at the fact that his younger friend is somehow always able to get what he wants. You can’t help but smile at how eager he is over such a simple thing.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to do that,” Soonyoung looks at you. 
He watches as you give him a reassuring smile, your eyes reflecting the bar lights. There are so many things that he got to learn about you today. The way you get shy meeting new people, yet you’re kind and willing to get to know his friends. You were tugging on his heartstrings and he didn’t want to stop getting to know the little things about you. 
“Yeah, it’s fine, Seokmin always lets me bring some home after my shift is over anyways,” you wave your hand, letting Chan know that Seokmin is a chill manager. 
“Really? Thank you Y/n,” Chan gives you a look of gratitude, going over to hug you. Laughing at his sudden burst of affection, you pat his back while telling him it wasn’t that big of a deal. 
The lights in the bar started to dim and you see Mingyu coming back with your drink. He places it in front of you and says not to worry about paying for it. There wasn’t much arguing coming from your side, who are you to refuse a free drink? Instead, you thank him and pay attention to the band coming out onto the stage. 
“Oh yeah, whatever happened to your ‘beautiful stranger’? Did you ever find her?” you hear Chan ask right before the band performs. 
There was a pause in the air and Soonyoung’s words were drowned out by the music. You are grateful for the fact that you couldn’t hear his answer. Honestly, you didn’t want to know what he had said in response. Instead of worrying over something you had no right to worry about, you allow the music to take over you. Paying close attention to the melodic singing flowing through the speakers. 
… 
“Thank you for inviting me out tonight, I enjoyed it,” you break the silence on the walk home to your apartment. 
Soonyoung offered to walk you home and you refused but he insisted that he wouldn’t be able to sleep properly if you walked alone at this hour. The time was nearing one in the morning and you were able to meet the rest of his friends after the show. They were all nice to you, except for that first moment with Seungkwan, but he warmed up shortly after. 
The descent to your place was relatively quiet, the two of you admiring the Vancouver skyline and high mountains. Sometimes you forget that you live in such a beautiful place, a city that never sleeps. You watched Soonyoung appreciate his view and you smiled inwardly at how content he seemed. 
Watching him interact with his friends earlier warmed your heart, he looked so happy being around them it made you forget how bad he is at his job, and that he’s a little clueless when it comes to working at the cafe. You felt bad about getting angry with him so quickly, but as you started to understand him more, you realized that there’s more to him than his clumsiness. He’s a bright person, he has the resemblance of a ball of sunshine. Always smiling, eager to bond with his friends, to laugh and to make thoughtful memories. 
You realize how much you had envied him in that moment. It’s easy for him to get along with everyone, and the fact that he’s able to go out without overthinking the smallest things. You just wanted to be as carefree as Soonyoung. 
“It's no problem, I wanted you to come, and they all loved you!” he chirped, eyes turning into slits from a wide smile. You blush at his outward personality. 
“Well, this is me,” you motion toward the entrance of your apartment building.
 You were a little embarrassed at its homely nature. All the nicer apartments surrounding your tiny building. But you couldn’t help but think that it had a charm to it that the modern buildings in Vancouver didn’t have. 
“Have a good night Y/n,” Soonyoung grinned as you two stood there, the breeze flowing through your fingertips while you stared into his sparkling eyes. 
“Have a good night Soonyoung,” you repeat him, and he doesn’t say anything else, pulling you into a hug. 
Soonyoung wasn’t sure if you like to be hugged, and he was hesitant at first, but with the way you were staring at him, he couldn’t help but want to hold you. He understands that you aren’t that close, but he knows he wants to get to know you more. 
As he holds you in his arms, he breathes in your scent, and it’s addicting. You smelt like a rainy day, reading books against the window sill and drinking a warm cup of tea. You felt like home to him, he finds it odd that he thinks of you that way so early on in your friendship, but he can’t help it. Soonyoung doesn’t want to deny his growing feelings for you. 
Although you were surprised by his actions you didn’t hate the way his arms felt around you. Strong and muscular, holding you tight while you breathe in the scent of his cologne. He smelt good, like roasting marshmallows over a campfire, or a beach day where the sun warmed your skin in the best way. 
There's something comforting about Soonyoung’s demeanour, his personality, his everything. Why was he so nice to you? Why did he express so much interest in someone he barely knows? You didn’t know and you were too shy to ask. 
He pulls away and opens the first door to your building for you, making sure you enter safe and sound. But before you could get to the door with the lock he asks you a question. 
“Uh, Chan and I have a dance showcase coming up next weekend, did you wanna come and see me perform?” Soonyoung asks while blushing. 
“I’d love to!” You answer back, and he just nods, letting go of you so that you can go up to your apartment and rest. 
“I’ll text you the details! Good night!” He yells from down the sidewalk, arm flailing to wave goodbye. You can’t help but giggle at him, your cheeks heating up at his goofy personality. 
As you enter your apartment, your mind travels back to the question Chan had asked Soonyoung before the band started performing. Who was this beautiful stranger that he was talking about? It made your stomach churn at the possibility that Soonyoung wouldn’t be available if you decided to tell him about the crush you’d developed. Sighing at the thought, you try to not let it affect you. You’ve only known him for a short time, and there’s no reason for you to feel jealous of someone you’re not even sure that he knows.
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
“How was your weekend, kiddo?” Seokmin’s presence welcomes you into his cafe, giving you a dazzling smile. 
“It was fun, me and Soonyoung went out with his friends,” you blushed as you recollected the time you got to spend with him. 
Seokmin walks up to you, his eyes panning over your body, eyebrow quirked up. He taps his chin acting as if he’s in deep thought before moving closer, sniffing you and you almost slap him square on the cheek. But he’s quick to avoid your hand. 
“I smell a crush!” He points his finger at you, his tone accusatory. 
“What?! Pfft, I don’t have a crush,” you deny his allegations, but your forehead starts to collect sweat out of nervousness. 
You didn’t think that Seokmin would put you on the spot like this, but it would feel awkward to admit that you have a crush on your coworker. Who just so happened to start working here less than two weeks ago. 
“Don’t lie to me, I can smell it on you! You have a crush,” Seokmin sang, dancing around you teasingly. Poking at your cheeks like you were a grizzly bear he’s trying to provoke. 
“Okay! Okay. Maybe I do have a crush, but it doesn’t mean anything,” you sigh, admitting your feelings so that your boss, nearly ten years older than you, would stop prancing around like a lunatic for all the passersby to see. 
“Why? What if he likes you back,” he wiggles his eyebrows, and you cringe at him. 
Leave it up to Seokmin to disregard professionalism in the workplace. If anything he was more like your surrogate dad that liked to be filled in on the latest drama. 
“He doesn’t,” you deflate, moving over to clock in and put on your apron. 
You know for a fact that Soonyoung couldn’t like you back, his mind was too preoccupied with much more important things, and some other girl who he doesn’t even know. 
“What are you? A mind reader?” Seokmin teases you, not wanting to see you pretend to be so apathetic.
Of course, you couldn’t read minds, but it was clear that Soonyoung’s interest lay somewhere else.  You don’t even know what to say to Seokmin at the moment, how do you even explain your feelings properly? Yes, you have a teeny crush on your coworker, but that’s all it should be, right? It wouldn’t be realistic to date him. 
The chime of the bell hanging on top of the door breaks your thoughts, “Good afternoon to my amazing boss, and my amazing coworker!”
Soonyoung is practically skipping through the door with delight, and it makes you smile. He always seemed so cheerful coming into work. It warms your heart. 
“Ahh good to see you Soonyoung,” Seokmin smiles, watching his figure disappear into the back. 
He turns to you and makes a face, his eyebrows wiggling while his lips widen into a shit-eating grin. Seokmin can’t help but tease you, he finds it cute that you have a crush on Soonyoung. In all the years that you’ve been working for him, there hasn’t been a time where he’s seen you so smitten over a boy. 
You roll your eyes at him, shooing him away before Soonyoung comes out and realizes why your boss is teasing you. 
… 
Once Seokmin had left, you and Soonyoung were left to fend for yourselves. Although today wasn’t as busy as the last time you were working with each other, it wasn’t a shift with Soonyoung if there wasn’t at least one thing that went wrong. 
You were minding your business, restocking some of the supplies in the storage room. As you were peacefully putting new syrups on the shelves, there was a high-pitched scream coming from the front part of the cafe. Your eyes widen at the sound, and you come rushing to the counter. 
“What happened?!” you stumbled in, your chest heaving as you tried to get to Soonyoung as fast as you could. 
“I-Uh-,” Soonyoung seems to be at a loss for words, you can he the audible gulp before he continues, “there was a spider, and I tried to kill it but I lost it.” 
A wave of relief washes over you as you realize that no one is hurt and the building is not on fire. Your eyes travel to where he’s crouched behind the counter, hands gripping the marble while his eyes peek over to observe the spider crawling across the floor. You can’t help but laugh at how terrified he is over a small insect. Instead of cowering away in fear beside him, you walk over to where the spider had begun to crawl up the leg of one of the chairs. 
“Y/n be careful! You could die if you get stung, and then we would have to call 911, and what if you don’t make it? I’d feel so guilty, I would carry the weight of my guilt as I grow old, we would hold memorials for you–Oh." His sentence comes to an abrupt stop as he sees you grab the spider with a tissue and place it back outside onto the pavement. 
“It was just a daddy long legs, no need to be afraid,” you reassure him. 
Soonyoung sighs in relief before standing up, patting down his clothes to get rid of the imaginary dust. He wipes his forehead as if he were the one to take care of the insect problem. 
“If there’s anything else wrong just call for me, I’ll be in the back,” you announce, hoping that would be the first and last incident for the day. 
Soonyoung nods, giving you a thumbs up as you walk into the back. You let out a breath of relief, giggling to yourself, recollecting the memory of him crouched behind the counter. The redness on your cheeks doesn’t seem to fade at the thought of him cowering over a small spider. 
No matter what Soonyoung does, you can’t help but find him endearing. And when he’s not, you find him undeniably attractive. How does this happen? How does one guy who once annoyed you turn into someone who has you completely flustered? It feels odd falling for someone so fast, and you’re just hoping he’ll feel the same. Especially because no one has had this effect on you before. 
The more you think about your budding feelings for Soonyoung, you’re constantly reminded of the fact that he’s searching for someone he thinks is his soulmate. You’re apprehensive, but at the same time, he might never find her. So what’s the point of trying to fight these feelings knowing you’re competing with someone he isn’t sure even exists? 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
There were tingles all over your body. Today was the day of Soonyoung’s dance showcase. Although you were excited to see him in his element, you were still nervous. It’s only been a month since you two met and him working at the cafe, but even then, you still feel like a stranger to his outside life. You weren’t sure why he invited you, but you’re grateful that you’ll be able to witness this side of him. 
As you make your way into the auditorium of his University, you find yourself in awe at the amount of people in the crowd. It was obvious that his dance team was well-liked at his school, causing admiration to bloom within your chest. 
Looking around for a familiar face, you spot Seungkwan and Mingyu sitting in the front row that’s reserved for close friends and family for the people on the dance team. You make eye contact with them, their hands motioning for you to come and sit with them. 
“Y/n! You came, Soonyoung is going to be so excited,” Mingyu exclaims, pulling you into a bone-crushing hug. 
You laugh at how excited he is to see you, your cheeks turning red at the mention of Soonyoung. As you pull away, you say hello to Seungkwan before taking your seat between them. 
The three of you make a little small talk until the lights start to dim and the spotlight glows against the stage. Your heart is beating out of your chest as you spot Soonyoung walking onto the stage. His hair and makeup were styled, his outfit complimenting his muscular arms perfectly. You’re thankful that the background music was loud enough, hoping that neither Seungkwan nor Mingyu heard the enormous gulp you took the moment your eyes laid on their best friend. 
“Good evening everyone! Thank you all for coming to our showcase tonight, I hope you enjoy the performances we prepared,” Soonyoung speaks into the mic, his eyes gleaming under the bright stage lights. 
Your breath is caught in your throat once again, Soonyoung’s confidence exuding from where he stands. He looks so handsome under all the bright lights as if he’s born to be on stage. To dance or to entertain, he has the charisma to make the audience laugh and cheer for him. 
You’re hot in your seat, your hands starting to sweat as he continues to charm the crowd. 
“Everyone has worked so hard for this, and you all get a sneak peek at our performance for the National Dance Competition taking place in Seattle!” He informs the crowd, his smile widening as he unveils his dance troupe's little secret. 
As he walks off stage you can’t help but stare in awe, anticipation swirls in your stomach as the lights start to dim once again. The dancers fill up the stage, indicating the start of the performance and you can see the outline of Soonyoung’s frame from where you sit. 
Soonyoung’s eyes blaze in the stage lights as the spotlight is cast on him. The dancers are behind him in their rightful positions as the music starts to play. With your mouth agape, you watch his body flow with the music. The strong bass of hip-hop flows through the speakers with every move Soonyoung makes along with his dance crew. The rest of the crowd sits there cheering them on while you’re left speechless. 
The serious gaze he holds, as he dances, makes your knees weak, especially because you can tell how passionate he is about his craft. He was made for dancing, born to tell a story with his limbs as they move languidly with the beat of the song. 
As the routine comes to an end you can’t help but feel lucky to see Soonyoung in his element. Far from the man who you’ve witnessed make the most silly mistakes while working, he’s so different on stage. Although you’ve come to appreciate his presence at the cafe, seeing him dance instills a profound sense of pride in your stomach. 
With each passing second the dance routine comes to a close, Soonyoung spots you in the front row as he continues to move on stage. His eyes widen as his gaze sets upon you before sending you a flirtatious wink. He goes back to facing the centre of the crowd, your whole body enveloped in heat. 
The song ends and you’re left sitting there with shocks of electricity passing through your entire body. Your crush on Soonyoung has turned into something deeper. 
Your palms sweat profusely as you stand at the entrance of the auditorium, an almond croissant in one hand and a bouquet of yellow flowers in the other. While you stand and wait for Soonyoung to come out of the dressing room, your mind is filled with thoughts of his performance. The image of him on stage doesn't leave your thoughts, not even for a second. 
“Y/n!” You hear a voice call out for you, pulling you out of your light daydreaming. 
Turning your head in the direction of the voice, your eyes land on Soonyoung, his tall figure making its way over to where you are. Your breath is caught in your throat as your gaze focuses on him. Bareface but his hair still styled, he looked breathtaking.
“Soonyoung! Hi, you were amazing up there,” you tell him breathlessly. 
  He smiles bashfully at your compliment, his cheeks turning red at your appreciation. Soonyoung doesn’t take compliments well as it is, but when it’s coming from you, he becomes even more flustered. The twinkle in your eyes never leaves as you smile at him. 
Pulling you into a hug, your shoulders tense in surprise at his sudden burst of affection, but you don’t hate it. You don’t mind how he likes to express his gratitude towards you. Instead, you embrace it, relaxing as his strong arms hold you close. You don’t ever get tired of how good he smells. Warm, bright, and comforting, like the sun personified.  
“Thank you for coming, you don’t know how much this means to me,” he mumbles while his arms are still wrapped around you. 
Your face buries itself deeper in his chest as you hear him talk, wanting to hide your already burning face from him. He makes you feel like you’re important like he would’ve been disappointed if you didn’t show up tonight. 
Pulling away, Soonyoung smiles at you, the same smile that reaches his eyes in the most adorable way. And then he notices the bouquet of flowers that are held tightly in your grasp. His eyes widen, cheeks red, he’s never received flowers in his life before, but he’s happy you’re the first. 
“Is that for me?” he asks, and you nod shyly, “thank you! You didn’t need to get me something, I invited you remember?” 
“I know but I wanted to thank you for inviting me, think of it as an advanced congratulations when you win the dance tournament next month,” you say as you hand him the bouquet. 
“Also, the croissant is for Chan, I know I promised to get him one,” you add. 
His laugh rings through your ears delightfully, finding it cute that you make good on your promises. Even the smallest things like getting a croissant for his best friend, he admires everything about you. The fact that you’re so earnest and willing to share so much with the people he cares about. He falls for you more as each day passes. 
Soonyoung knows it hasn’t been long since he’s met you, but he doesn’t care. He knows that he likes you, that he wants to take you out, shower you in all his love and affection, and do whatever it takes to see you smile. He doesn’t care about time unless he can spend the rest of it with you. 
˚∗˖⁺⑅ ˖⁺⑅˖◛
When Soonyoung asked to hang out after his dance showcase, you couldn’t help but happily oblige. The way he looks at you, how he shows that he wants to spend time with you makes your stomach flutter. How could one possibly say no to someone like him? 
As you two walk over to his apartment, your palms begin to sweat again, even with the cool Vancouver breeze that flows between you. You think about how close you two have gotten since that first day in the cafe, and you can only smile to yourself. He makes you feel wanted, like there's more between you than just friendly coworkers.
 Although you want to tell him how much you’ve grown to like him, there's a part of you that still holds back, just because of that little comment Chan made all those weeks ago. 
“We’re here!” Soonyoung announces, stepping into the front entrance of his apartment. 
It’s considerably nicer than the one you live in, making you feel slightly intimidated by the high-rise building. You tried not to let it show, but you didn’t fully realize how different you two were until now. He’s outgoing, a ball of sunshine. You tend to prefer living in solace, keeping to yourself whether it be at work or school. 
“Your place is nice,” you comment as your eyes follow the expanse of the building's height. 
“Thank you! Let’s get inside, I think it’s about to start raining,” Soonyoung ushers you in, already noticing the way the clouds start to thicken in the evening sky. 
The ride up to the elevator is peaceful, you two enjoy each other's company in silence while you continue to admire the building. As he leads you to the front door of his apartment, your breath gets stuck in your throat once more. You knew Soonyoung was a stylish individual, but you didn’t think that a person in university had much knowledge of interior design. 
In short, you found his home to be comforting, the furniture and decorations suited his personality perfectly. It felt warm, it felt like a home. 
If only you knew, that Soonyoung was just as nervous as you. His heart beats faster as your eyes look over his apartment. He cleaned it this morning in hopes that you would say yes to coming over. Otherwise it would’ve embodied a pig stye, and he couldn’t have the girl he has feelings for thinking that he was a slob. 
“Your place is beautiful, Soonyoung,” you mumble as you continue to look around. 
“Really?” He acts shy, scratching the back of his head. 
“Yeah! I like it, it suits you,” you turn back to him, flashing him a warm smile that makes his cheeks heat up. 
Soonyoung releases a breath that he didn’t realize that he was even holding, happy to know that your first impression of his home is positive. Usually when he has his friends over they tell him it can get a little messy, especially when Mingyu visits. His best friend is always helping him clean up the place because of his natural tendency to declutter any space he’s in. 
“Do you wanna watch a movie? Or maybe just talk…?” Soonyoung stutters a bit, his head all over the place because the girl he has been crushing on is in front of him. Not while his other friends are around, and not in a workplace setting either. 
He doesn’t know how to act when you’re around, he’s typically not a shy person, but when you’re around all his thoughts fly out the window. 
“Uhm, talking is just fine with me,” you laugh at how red his face has gotten. 
There was an obvious tension in the air and it was hard for you to ignore, but you’re just happy to be alone with him. For once, his friends weren’t here or Seokmin, it was just you and Soonyoung. 
He grabs your hand as if he had no control over his actions, guiding you over to his couch. You two sit there, a little closer than what would be considered friendly for coworkers. His eyes twinkled against the ambient lighting. 
“What did you want to talk about?” you ask innocently, trying to ignore the rising tension between you. 
Soonyoung shies away from your gaze, your eyes becoming the size the saucers the more you stare at him. He wants to tell you how he feels, although he isn’t sure that you feel the same. He wants to take his chance with you while it’s still in front of him. 
“There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you, and I’m actually really nervous but I just need to say it,” he lets out another puff of breath, trying to calm his nerves. 
The beating in your chest increases with each word Soonyoung says, and you don’t know how to feel. You’re nervous too, but you want to hear what he has to say. You feel his hand over yours, squeezing it softly. He’s not sure whether it's to soothe himself or you, but it's working. 
“I like you, I know we didn’t meet that long ago, but every time I see you I get so happy, and I love how all my friends like you, and you’re just so beautiful, I can’t keep it to myself anymore, but if you don’t feel the same–,” He blurts out, redness crawling up from his neck to his cheeks once again. 
Before you could even register anything past the words ‘I like you’, you pull him into a hug, which is not something normal for you, but Soonyoung is the exception. You can’t help but want to hold him in your arms, your own personal ball of sunshine that has been crafted specifically for you. 
“I like you too,” you whisper in his ear as you hold him close. 
Soonyoung gasped in surprise at your declaration, and you could practically feel him vibrating in his seat with excitement. 
He pulls back from the hug with the biggest smile on his face, eyes brighter than the stars that have been covered by the rain clouds swirling outside his window, “You do?” 
“Yes, I do like you back,” you giggle while intertwining your fingers with his, “but I’ve been holding back ever since that night at the bar.” 
Soonyoung raises an eyebrow, trying to rack his brain as he thinks of every moment that happened between you that night, but nothing comes to mind. 
“Wait why? What happened?” He asks, curious as to why you two have gone this long without confessing to each other. 
“It was something Chan said…” you trail off, staring at how your fingers are laced between his. 
“Fucking Chan,” he curses at his best friend, “what did he say exactly?” 
“Well he didn’t really say anything, but he just asked you a question on the stranger who you’re convinced is your soul mate or whatever,” you shrug your shoulders, trying to act like such a simple thing didn’t torment you for weeks. 
Soonyoung eyebrows raise even more and his mouth forms an ‘O’ shape, and he starts to connect the dots. He didn’t think that would be the reason you hadn’t told him. If anything, he thought it was because he was not very good at his job at the cafe or that you just weren’t sure about your feelings. 
“Oh, that… well I got over it a long time ago. It happened at the front of the cafe, this girl lost her glasses and it was raining and everything. I didn’t see her face because she walked away so fast I didn’t get a chance to act on it.” He recalls the moment between him and the stranger, “I was going in for my interview with Seokmin so I picked up her glasses and gave her my umbrella.” 
Sitting quietly beside him, your heart plummets to the bottom of your stomach. This whole time, the person who helped you on what you considered one of your worst days to date, was Soonyoung? You aren’t even sure what to say but it's almost laughable. As if the universe had known that you two were meant to meet one way or the other. 
“Soonyoung, that was me,” you reveal to him, and his eyes widen. 
“THAT WAS YOU?” He practically jumps out of his seat, hands now placed on your shoulder, inspecting every corner of your face, “now that I think of it, your glasses do look familiar.” 
Bursting out laughing, you can’t believe that he would react in this way. He looks like he’s just been let in on an ancient secret, “to be fair, I didn’t know it was you either, I’m practically blind without my glasses so I didn’t see your face.” 
“Oh my god, we’re meant to be,” he mutters to himself, his hand covering his mouth in shock. 
Soonyoung is elated, to say the least, he gave up on his beautiful stranger the moment he laid his eyes on you. But to find that you are his beautiful stranger. Well, now he knows that he can’t ever let you go. 
“I hope you know we’re locked in for life now,” he stares at you earnestly, taking both your hands in his and you look at him quizzically, “Sorry baby, but we can’t disappoint the universe after all the hard work they put into our love story.” 
You giggle at him, even when it’s just the two of you, he’s just as silly. That's what you like about him though, the fact that he makes you laugh and smile practically on command. You’ve never laughed this hard with anyone before, Seokmin probably being the only exception, but you don’t want to think about your boss right now. 
“Baby? Eager aren’t we?” you tease, and Soonyoung blushes hard, moving away from your peering eyes as he lets go of your hands. 
“I can’t help it, you’ll just have to get used to it,” he shrugs, acting nonchalant, but you can see the way he side-eyes you, wanting to still see your reaction. 
“Does this mean you’ll take me out on dates? And all the other couple stuff,” you whisper in his ear, your hands circling his bicep as he faces away from you. 
“W-well duh! Of course, I’m gonna take you on a proper date, I need to show you how good of a boyfriend I can be!” he exclaims and another giggle slips past your lips. 
Squeezing his muscular arm tighter, you can feel his pulse increasing under your touch, “boyfriend? When did I say anything about you being my boyfriend.” 
Those few words break his act and he turns to you in shock, he looks like a deer in headlights. Soonyoung is embarrassed about how ahead of himself he’s gotten but he doesn’t want to date anyone else either. If you’re not going to become his girl, then he’d rather just give up on dating altogether. 
“I want to be your boyfriend, like really really bad, but only if you’ll let me,” he declares, eyes piercing into your soul with all seriousness. 
Watching his demeanour change once more makes you gulp involuntarily.
“I want to be your girlfriend, like really really bad,” you echo his words. 
Gasping, Soonyoung can’t contain his happiness, pulling you into a tight hug, and showering your cheeks with kisses. Giggling in his arms, your stomach begins to hurt at how much he can make you laugh in such a short amount of time. 
Your body heats up at his affection, feeling the way his plush lips press against your skin. You haven’t felt something like this in a long time, but the fact that it’s Soonyoung makes it better. 
Getting up from the couch you stand in front of him, and he’s confused as to why you pulled yourself away. Did he take it too far by kissing you like that? He can feel the apprehension rising within himself as he stares up at you. 
“Do you wanna show me to your room?” You ask, and Soonyoung has never stood up so fast in his life ever before. 
Taking your hand in his, he leads you to his bedroom. As he opens the door you're met with at least twenty different tiger stuffed animals staring at you. Soonyoung on the other hand isn’t phased at all, if anything, he takes pride in his plushie collection. 
“Do you… collect all of these?” you ask him, and he just smiles and nods. 
You decide to have a conversation about the plushie collection another day, but you do find it cute that he’s into something seemingly harmless. 
Sitting on his bed, he doesn’t take his place beside you right away. Instead, Soonyoung carefully turns each tiger plushie around so that they’re all facing away from his bed. He turns back at your figure sitting on his mattress, a shy smile across his lips. 
“Can’t have them witnessing what we’re about to do y’know,” he giggles before turning the last tiger around. 
Once he is finally done, he jumps into the bed and smothers you tightly in his strong arms. You’re not over the whole tiger thing, but at least he’s happy, you think to yourself. 
“Now where were we?” He looks at you, eyes still glittering even in the dim lighting of his room. 
You shake your head and smile at him, pushing him down so that he's lying with his back against the bed. Each of your legs moves over his hips, hands feeling up his chest. 
Leaning closer, you two share your first kiss, and it’s everything you’ve hoped for. The two of you move together in perfect sync as he grabs your sides tightly. 
“You’re a good kisser,” you mumble against him, and he just smiles as he pulls you into another kiss. 
His hands move lower on your body, your skirt hiking up your thighs as he grips at your flesh. Your skin is so soft, and he can’t get over how sweet your lips taste. Soonyoung knows if he were to miraculously die now, he would die a very happy man. 
Soft moans leave your mouth as he gropes your ass under your skirt, feeling the way your lack of clothes leaves more for him to grasp at. He can’t stop touching you, exploring your body like it’s his and his only to discover. The fact that you even agreed to let him be your boyfriend was enough for him, but also getting laid on the same night, well, Soonyoung could really die a happy man. 
The kiss becomes heated with each second that passes, but Soonyoung just wants to let you know how much he likes you. You invade his thoughts relentlessly, not that he’s opposed to it at all. But he likes the way you smile at him every time he tells you how much he wants to be with you. 
“I’m so happy you’re mine,” he whispers to you, your smile widening even more. 
“I’m happy you’re mine too,” you repeat his words again, giving him the same reassurance he gives you. 
Out of all the people you could fall for, you’re happy it was your clumsy coworker with an oddly large tiger collection. You’re thankful for the fact that out of all the people, he was the one to help you on that rainy day. Even when it’s gloomy outside and the clouds cover every inch of the sun’s rays, Soonyoung still glows under the grey sky. Rain or shine, you want him no matter how good or bad the weather is.
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Ⱄ a/n: if u want more of them please lmk hehe, and if u liked this story please leave a like or a reblog hehe it is very much appreciated :3 thank you ♡ p.s rain or shine is an actual ice cream shop in bc heheh
Ⱄ perm tag-list: @christinewithluv @todorokiskitten @peachescreamandcrumble @minwonfairy @oneandonlyluvv @ihrtmingyu @tigerhoshii @sleepzyy @luveveryonewoo @thepoopdokyeomtouched @chan-s-laptop @aksweet7 @leah-rose03 @woofie-nctzen-fanarts @gyuguys @crystal-rhyming @jenoxygen @hoshhhiiiii @babigriin @bouclesdefeu @mingyuecstacy @iluvseokmin @odevote118 @wonvsmile @suga-bitch @chickpea-jimin @lar3ine @bias-recs @hanniebub @iluvmingi @vapidlynn @aaniag @yogurttea @blurr3db3rry @lovejoshua @woozixo @drunk-on-dk @noiceoofed @angelfeverdream @leahhhher @hanniebwii @yuyunhoo @whowantshota @hannniiiiiehae @afslme @writingbarnes
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flutteragency · 1 year ago
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How to Build a Flutter Desktop App: Tutorial With Example
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Do you want to find how to build the flutter desktop app? Then check out this guide and know everything about building the flutter desktop app with the best example. In general, developers can write various different types of applications such as mobile applications, console applications, desktop applications and web applications. 
Desktop applications run around the system window with many user interface elements. When you are going to make the desktop application, there are more different frameworks, programming languages and UI-toolkits to choose from. 
There are around two types of desktop application development APIs such as cross-platform and platform-specific. The platform-specific APIs support only the targeted OS. For instance, Cocoa API offers interfaces to develop various desktop apps for the macOS platform.
The cross-platform APIs enable developers to make various desktop applications for multiple OS with the single generic API. The cross platform gains more popularity than platform specific due to many reasons. For instance, developers can easily maintain the single codebase for the multiple platforms since the cross-platform framework’s API offers the better abstraction for platform-specific APIs.
The cross-platform development frameworks also allow rapid feature delivery. There is no requirement to implement the similar feature for different OS by writing the platform-specific code, and hence new features can be efficiently delivered. 
Here you can find how to build the native cross-platform desktop applications with Flutter. You can hire flutter developer from Flutter Agency to make everything possible without fail.
What is Flutter?
In general, flutter is the cross-platform application development framework that can be used to build the natively compiled applications for various platforms like web, mobile and desktop. The supported output targets are iOS, Android, HTML Canvas, HTML, Windows, Canvas, Fushia and macOS. 
Flutter is making use of Dart as an application development language. It mainly concentrates more on developing mobile apps, but supports the desktop versions too. Such a framework comes with its own widget toolkit. When the Flutter application is launched, it can render the UI controls of the application through the Skia graphics library.
What is the reason for Flutter’s popularity?
The most critical problem in the cross-platform framework development field is the way of placing abstraction layers for various platforms. You can also know how to offer the generic API for professional developers without creating any performance problem for such applications. 
Flutter provides cross-platform, simple APIs through Dart libraries while maintaining better performance. If you need some help, then you can hire flutter developer.
Developing the desktop application with Flutter:
Here you can explore how to develop the cross-platform desktop application with Flutter.
As Flutter is stable for Windows and Linux OS, it is best to consider how to get started on this OS before creating the desktop app that can work on any of such three environments. If you need some help, then you can hire flutter developer.
Setting up the Flutter on Windows:
Setting up the flutter development environment on Windows OS is very simple. Simply you need to download the Flutter app package, then extract it and add it to the system’s PATH variable. To make it possible:
You have to open the start menu
Type in “env” out there
Then choose “Edit the system environment variables” option from the available list
After that, click the “Environment Variables…” option
From “User variables for username” section, you have to double-click on the “Path” entry
Next you have to add the path from where you have extracted flutter 
After that, you can open up the command prompt and then run the flutter doctor to check whether the configuration process is completed or not. If you need some help, then you can hire flutter developer.
Setting up the Flutter on Ubuntu:
Setting up the flutterd evelopment environment on Ubuntu is also very simple when it is about entering certain terminal commands. 
Use the below mentioned command to install the flutter SDK
$ sudo snap install flutter –classic
Validating the Flutter environment:
When the desktop mode is enabled, then the flutter devices command will list down the current OS. If you need some help, then you can hire a flutter developer.
Creating the new Flutter app:
You have to create the new application with a create command like other typical CLI.
$ flutter create desktop-app
The above command can scaffold the easy starter project. The starter project consists of minimal code with comments to help understand how the flutter works effectively. 
The lib/main.dart file consists of the source code of the application. 
After editing the major soruce file, you have to enter the below mentioned command to run the application:
$ flutter run -d <platform>
// <platform> = windows, linux, macos
The above mentioned command will open the flutter app in the native window. The native window can be styled based on the current OS and system theme configuration. If you need some help, then you can hire flutter developer.
Debugging the Flutter app:
The flutter desktop application development environment supports the most advanced reloading feature. Hence, you have to click r key in the console to enter the flutter run command and trigger the hot reloading. You can change the text widget’s content when the app is running in the debug mode. If you need some help, then you can hire flutter developer. Know all about how to debug or print in flutter web.
How to release the application?
There are many different ways to release the flutter applications, but the deployment method is based on the type of OS. For instance, when you are going to release the desktop application for the Linux users, you can deploy the flutter application to Snapcraft software store.
When you need to deploy the application for the Windows users, you can make the new Windows app package (MSIX) or Windows Installer Package (MSI)with the help of a third party tool. 
Flutter for macOS, Windows and Linux can be stable, hence you can produce the production apps this way. If you need some help, then you can hire a flutter developer.
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crazybiscuit · 3 months ago
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Uptown Girl
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Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader Summary: You, an out of touch rich pureblood, recently moved to England for yet another engagement prospect. Unfortunately, things don't go to plan as you somehow find yourself constantly running into a werewolf, who has developed a valid reason to dislike you. Warnings: This is going to be a long fic and the reader will be a bit of a bitch at first. The story will definitely contain violence, excessive use of alcohol, smut and mentions of death. This chapter doesn't have any graphic content though. On side note, this is set in 1983 and sadly, Lily (my wife... 😔) and James are dead. So Sirius is in Azkaban and Peter is "dead". Word Count:  2287 Credits: @saradika-graphics thank you for the divider! A/N: Let's pretend I didn't mean to post this yesterday... London was an actual nightmare to map out in my brain and I'm fully aware the title doesn't make total sense considering uptown and downtown is a mostly American concept but I figured it fit the context of the story. So for our sake, Remus will live in East London, closer to the Thames, and you, my dear Readers will live in West London, more North of the city. On a side note, fuck JKR and her disgusting beliefs. Also, to anyone struggling, whether it be personal life or political climate, I hope you're doing alright. Writing is my current escapism and I hope I can help someone else in the process. On another note, chapter 2 should be posted on the 28th!
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“When is that damned exterminator going to get here?” your father’s gruff voice was muffled by his handkerchief he held to his nose as he walked into the parlour.
“We should’ve just called the ministry,” the woman sat next to you snapped, her head sticking out of the window taking advantage of the fresh air, “No one would’ve ever cared about our little problem. But no, you had the brilliant idea to hire some random man you found in a pub.”
You brushed your damp hair, trying your best to ignore the foul stench emitting from beneath the floor, “There’s nothing small about our problem, so I’d much rather keep this discreet myself.”
You should’ve known better than to oppose your poor, dear mother, as she grasped her chest as if he couldn’t breathe, “Discreet! I don’t care how discreet we are dealing with this! This man will fail to help us, screw up and we will have to call the ministry anyways. Hell! He’s probably a fraud and planning to rob us. Do you have any idea how much worse that will be! People will think we are fouls who can’t maintain our estate.”
You didn’t bother hiding the way you rolled your eyes as you glanced back out to the cloudy sky, which caused mother to rant about disrespect to the old man, now sitting in his recliner.
The fall wind was a welcome guest as you began to carefully style your hair, turning your attention to your faint reflection in the window. The bundimun infestation might have stalled the redecorating efforts of this old dirty hole of townhouse, but it was certainly not going to stop you from looking your best.
“It’s lucky Josephine is still in France. I'm beginning to doubt any amount of magic can revive this place.”
“Enough complaining,” your father cut in, as he cast another scouring charm in an attempt to lessen the smell, “We all know this isn't ideal, but you should be grateful we even found this estate for you.”
You felt slightly annoyed as you finished your hair, frowning at him through the glass reflection. Your hand dropped dejectedly as you glanced back with a sigh. He was right, despite every one of your arrangements falling through due to the war, your parents had still managed to find you a respectable match, “I know, I know… I'm sorry. This is all just frustrating.”
Your parents shared a look but remained silent. However, this didn’t last long as your mother suddenly stood up, “I feel like I might faint.” 
Your father let out an exasperated sigh at her theatrics.
“I am sorry, dear, but I cannot do this anymore. You'll have to deal with the exterminator yourself, I'm going out for lunch with Y/N–”
Before your father could protest in annoyance, you interrupted, “Actually, I still need to finish my makeup, so you can go with Papa.”
They put very little effort into arguing and quickly vanished from the house. The silence would've been appreciated if it weren’t for the disturbing smell surrounding you and you found yourself tilting your head back as you leaned against the window sill. Even upside down, the townhouses that lined the street bored you, and you decided to stare at the sea of grey clouds slowly drifting across the sky instead.
You figured, much to your annoyance, that it would likely rain again today. Your attention snapped to the street when you heard the crunching of the colourful leaves beneath someone’s shoes. You flipped over to get a proper look of the man coming up the street and your interest peaked. He stood out against the pristine houses, his dark clothes seemingly worn from years of wear on his tall, though lanky figure, and he seemed handsome enough even from the second floor.
You quickly grabbed your wand and summoned your silk robe, slipping it over your nightgown. He must’ve been the man your father hired, and with that thought, you grabbed your perfume bottle to apply some.
By the time the doorbell rang, you had grabbed your lipstick and you carefully applied it as you looked at yourself in the mirror against the wall. The bell rang a second time and you sighed, quickly wiping off the colour that was out of place. You smoothen out your silk robe before heading to the front door, opening it and finding yourself faced with a man’s hand frozen midair, ready to knock.
“Oh, sorry,” your eyes snapped up to the face that spoke and you met the man’s slightly startled hazel eyes. He was taller than you expected when you saw him outside and his light brown hair was messy but still made him look rather charming. He seemed a few years older, likely in his mid or late 20s. But what truly caught your eyes were the scars scattered across his face, neck, hands. Any bit of skin you could see was littered with scars, “Hi, you hired pest control..?”
His deep voice snapped you out of your daze and you noted the faint Welsh accent as you stepped aside, opening the door wider for him, “Right… come in.”
The man took notice of your outfit and nonchalant demeanor, but remained professional as he followed you in. His expression remained steady despite the familiar pungent smell filling the house. He awkwardly adjusted his bag on his shoulder. Your father hadn’t told him the exact issue, only promising to pay him nicely, and Remus hadn’t exactly allowed himself the privilege of worrying about the oddity of the situation. However, you did notice his stance relaxed as he recognized the infestation he was handling, “Bundimuns?”
“Unfortunately, that is correct,” you sighed, looking back as you opened the door to the area where the test was the most prominent. You noted his slight hesitancy to walk in as he observed the half-decorated house, “Our house warming party is in a few days and we need this issue to be solved quickly so we can finish the renovations.”
“Right…,” Remus tried his best to hide his expression of confusion and disbelief as he stared at the loud decor scattered around the room, “This seems like it would’ve been easier to report to the ministry.”
“Probably,” you agreed, making your way to the open balcony, “We’ll take our chances though. I’d rather only have one person know about this than deal with official records of the infestation.”
That confused the poor man, who had set his old messenger bag down on one of the uncovered powder blue sofas, but he wasn’t about to push for more answers. Rich, purebloods were always preoccupied with reputation, he knew that very well.
You leaned against the cold, metal railing as you watched him digging through his bag for his notebook, “How long will this take you?”
His gaze met yours for a split second before going back to flipping through the yellowed pages, “It’ll take two or three hours. This is a pretty serious infestation and this building is a lot bigger than it seemed outside…” 
It was clear he had questions but it didn’t seem like he was going to ask. You figured you’d explain the situation to prevent any rumours to spread (though you doubted his words would actually reach any important ears), “This house was built before the ban on extension charms for houses. We have ministry approval to keep it that way.”
Remus smiled a little apologetically, finding the page he was looking for, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to sound accusatory. It really isn’t any of my business, so I wasn’t going to ask.”
His passiveness was mildly surprising but you brushed it off. It was nice not having to worry about him talking and clearly he needed the money, so you figured he'd stay quiet. You finally moved and sat at the table on the balcony as he began to read the most effective spells to get rid of the secretions and creatures.
It was fairly cold outside but you figured you should keep an eye on him. To entertain yourself for the next few hours, you figured you should write to your sister and friends back in France. You flicked your hawthorne wand, summoning your quill, paper and other supplies wordlessly.
The two of you worked on your separate tasks quietly, barely interacting for over an hour. You had lost interest in watching him as he cleaned the house out of the green menaces, using spells you had never heard off, and only headed back inside due to the charming British weather. Rain was always such a nuisance.
You carried your stack of letters with you as you walked back into the house. The smell, though still lingering, had mostly vanished from the house, which was a relief, “I'm going to be upstairs. I trust you won’t steal anything. Though I doubt he’d even be able to identify the actual valuable objects.”
The last part was mumbled under your breath but with the context, it was easy for the brunette to infer it was likely an insult. Remus watched you disappear to the third floor, “What?”
“Feel free to ask the house elves for help. They’re in the basement. They’ve been trying their best to deal with the acid,” with that, you shut your bedroom door, completely missing the man’s expression of disbelief and mild offense.
Another hour passed and Remus had done everything in his power to avoid you as he finished up the rest of the house. This would’ve worked wonders if he didn’t have to worry about getting rid of the last few bundimuns in the house, which conveniently were hidden behind the double doors leading to your room.
He sighed. He was never skilled in divination but something in his gut was telling that you were trouble, but he needed the money and he wasn’t about to half-ass his job because of some spoiled brat. So he knocked.
You opened the door and he immediately took note of your outfit change. You were no longer in your silk robe and pajamas, instead dressed in a simple but classy turtleneck and skirt, “I need to charm this room then I’m done…”
You hummed, letting him in as you walked back to your four poster bed, tying the stack of at least 15 letters together so that your owl could carry it. This gave Remus at least a few minutes of peace as he finished up, but it seemed you sensed he was about done as you spoke up, “You know, I know a potion maker in Saint-Brieuc, who is very skilled at Scar-Diminishing Serums.” 
“I beg your pardon?” his Welsh accent seemed deeper now that you’d upset him. The unprompted comment caught the man off guard and he scoffed, unable to believe anyone could be this insensitive.
“I’ve used them a few times and they work wonders. Great way to boost confidence and better your appearance,” you paused, sensing he was upset, much to your confusion, “Don’t get me wrong, you’re fairly handsome, but I think it would definitely hel–”
He suddenly got up after casting one last spell, “I’m done.”
His voice, though composed, made it obvious he was pissed. You hesitated slightly, trying to figure out what you did as you followed him down to the first floor, “No need to be so upset, I was just trying to give you advice.”
He interrupts, surprisingly calm for someone getting insulted every other line, “Well, I kindly reject it, thank you.”
He stopped in front of the front door, almost considering leaving without payment, not wanting anything from you. Before you could protest, he opened the door and your mother let out a yelp, not expecting to see the stranger.
“Oh! Remy, was it?” your father smiled, glad to see the exterminator.
“Remus.”
It finally occurred to you that you had never even introduced yourself or asked for his name.
“Right, right! You must’ve finished! Y/N, did you pay him yet? I left the galleons on the table in the office,” he kept rambling, walking past Remus and you to get the money. Your mother smiled nervously, looking at the man, who she had already predetermined as creepy and untrustworthy, and tried her best to maintain a polite demeanor.
Unfortunately for her, she did a terrible job and her expression visibly relaxed when your father came back to save her from the conversation, “Here’s the 10 Galleons we originally agreed upon, and I figured you could get an extra 5 for–”
“Actually the 10 will suffice,” Remus forced a smile. He wasn’t stupid. It was clear you and your family were hoping to buy his favor to avoid any bad mouthing, and he wasn’t going to do that. Hell, he didn’t even want to talk about you to anyone (not that he really had anyone left), but it was a matter of principle.
You parents were stumped. They had rarely, if ever, met someone so quick to deny their money, “Sir, we insist–”
Remus had stepped out, taking the 10 Galleons, cutting off your mother with a thigh smile, “Honestly, I’m good.”
Your father, in a desperate attempt to get some sort of upperhand spoke words that made your  jaw drop, “Well then, please consider joining us for our solstice party on the 21st.”
Your mother’s expression mirrored yours and you knew they would argue about this later. Remus’s eyes met yours and something awoke in him, a slight sense of amusement he hadn’t felt since Hogwarts. He looked back at your father, adjusting his old bag on his shoulder, and smiled slightly, “I’ll think about it.”
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idlesuperstar · 10 months ago
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Donald was the best partner in movies I ever had. We were brothers and we loved each other. We had such a deep, sublime chemistry. There was nothing intellectual about it, just this amazing natural harmony. I first met him in the commissary at 20th Century Fox when Robert Altman told us to have lunch together after I’d been cast in M*A*S*H. At first I thought: I don’t think this guy likes me. But it was just the opposite. The thing was: we were such opposites. I’m a Jew from Brooklyn and he was a Canadian from Nova Scotia. But it was perfection: never any conflict, just bread and butter – a relationship that felt like a miracle. Making M*A*S*H made us immediately close because while everyone else was working with Bob Altman, we worked for Bob Altman. He kept us a little segregated. We were both really unsure about the improvisation, the direction of the movie and Bob’s approach in general. Donald was hired well before me, but once I signed on we had the same deal: no less than second billing, and the same money. Later in production, Richard Zanuck, who was at that time running 20th Century Fox, said they wanted to give me first billing. I thought: “Oh that’s a nice honour. But Donald is my friend! I’m not going to be opportunistic – he was here first and should have first billing and I’ll stay in second place.” That’s what Donald meant to me. I never told him about that. A few years later, I turned down the screenplay for the movie that became S*P*Y*S, about two bumbling CIA agents. Then Donald called and said: “Would you do it with me?” And I said: “Oh that’s a different story. Of course!” On the first day of shooting in London, we drove to work together and he said: “What do you think of the script?” I rolled the window down, threw it out and said: “It’s a piece of junk. The only way this will work is if we swap parts.” But the producers could not digest that, so we just did the picture. Yet we did bring some of our own ideas to the table. There wasn’t an ending, for instance - so Donald and I agreed that we would just walk up the road with our backs to the camera and sing Side By Side. We worked together and we succeeded together, but we didn’t socialise very much – though having the opportunity to develop a relationship with some of his family was a total joy. Once, Donald was making a movie in the Bahamas and I came to visit because I had a week off from making The Long Goodbye and was interested in his leading lady, Jennifer O’Neill. Kiefer, his son, was five or six and Donald introduced us. Kiefer wanted me to stay, so when I said goodbye, I said: “Kiss me, Kiefer.” He had an ice cream cone in his hand and put it on my face – he kissed me with his cone. Donald was a true human being – and not all of us are. He could identify with any of us. His presence and his nature, his life and his mind are an asset for everyone. We all come and go physically, but as a being, he was really special and unique. I don’t put anything in the past. With me, it’s all in the present. My feeling is that for as long as I am living, Donald will be with me. I have no doubt about that, and I’m not being sentimental. I can see Donald now. I will see Donald for ever.
Elliot Gould - Donald Sutherland remembered by Keira Knightley, Elliott Gould, Ralph Fiennes and more in The Guardian
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