#and i had to do like two returns which weren’t even my sales but of course ppl don’t care about that

[claudiaeparvier]

having the worst day so of course I come home only to be locked out of my house

[ellecdc]

Peace & Quiet [& Sirius]

Regulus Black x mute!reader [gn] who speaks with Regulus for the first time

request: Regulus Black x mute reader and she's quiet so she can talk, and her speech is excellent, she just chooses not to talk until maybe one day studying she let's it slip and he heard by @simps-for-to-many-people

CW: selective mutism

Regulus Black was a very self-serving person, and he was more than happy to admit that.

Nothing that Regulus did was coincidental, accidental, or unplanned; he had a motive for every action he took, and there was meaning behind everything that he did. 

Like now, for example; he was very pointedly not sitting with his friends in the middle of the library, but rather in a far secluded corner near a fireplace and a bookshelf containing tomes on the reproductive patterns of frost snails.

In essence, no one was coming back here for books or otherwise.

But that wasn’t why he was sitting back here.

It was likely why you were sitting back here, which was decidedly why Regulus was, too. 

He’d asked first, of course; he was a gentleman afterall. And you’d offered him half a smile and a quick nod before quickly returning to your notes.

Regulus liked that about you.

You were a quiet sort - and not only because you didn’t talk, because Regulus was certain that even if you did make a habit of speaking, you’d likely be nearly just as quiet.

It didn’t appear to him that you couldn’t speak, but rather just that you didn’t. 

And Regulus couldn’t blame you, there weren’t very many people in this castle worth conversing with anyways.

That didn’t stop him from trying to converse with you, however.

He made sure to say hello when he saw you, and always asked if your day was going well, or if you were finding class difficult; the likes.

He never got more than a nod or a smile, and that was enough.

So, here he was sitting in the farthest, darkest corner of the library with the quietest seat partner as he enjoyed the view.

And if it wasn’t clear by now, the view Regulus so enjoyed was you. 

You’d not shared more than a smile and nod with him in the years of classes you shared together, yet somehow Regulus seemed to find a kindred spirit in you.

A soul aching for solitude and silence, for patience and understanding, for space and peace.

He certainly found those things with you.

He hoped that you felt the same about him, or perhaps that you could bring yourself to find the same in him.

For now, though, Regulus was happy to reap the benefits of your presence for as long as you were willing to share them with him. 

“There you are, Reggie! My favourite brother!” Regulus heard the unmistakable sound of Sirius’ voice as it permeated his (and, rather unfortunately, your) quiet sanctuary.

Regulus could kill him. 

“I’m your only brother, you sod.” Regulus hissed as Sirius plopped himself down on the bench beside him, either ignorant to or in spite of the lack of enthusiasm at his arrival. 

“And I’m your only brother, don’t you think you ought to be nicer to me? Hi, L/N.” Sirius replied, greeting you quickly as he turned back to his brother. “Listen, I need a favour.”

“No.”

“Reggie.”

“Don’t call me that.”

“Please.” 

“I said no.” Regulus bit out.

“You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.” Sirius pouted, resulting in an awkwardly long staring match between the two brother’s before Regulus finally sighed.

“What?”

“I need the password to the Slytherin dungeons.”

“Are you out of your sodding mind!?”

“You don’t know what it’s for!” Sirius argued.

“It’s for a prank.” Regulus responded resolutely, causing Sirius’ expression to fall just as he was about to start another sales pitch.

“Okay, so maybe you do know what it's for, but that’s not the point!”

"That's exactly the point."

"But-"

“I’m not giving you the password to my common room, Sirius.” Regulus stated with finality as Sirius groaned and let his head fall to the table in front of him with a thump. 

“You’re mean, you know that? He’s mean; why do you hang out with him, L/N? You could do so much better.”

“What? Like you?” You responded quickly, not bothering to look up from your notebook to see the absolute astounded faces of both Regulus and Sirius Black, and the satisfied smirk on Remus Lupin’s face as he sidled up behind the two brothers. 

“I knew I liked you, L/N.” Remus said as he shot you a wink and placed a conciliatory hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder. “So, you failed to get the password and had your arse handed to you?”

Sirius harrumphed as Regulus let out a very uncharacteristic bark of laughter.

Neither Sirius nor Remus missed the satisfied smile that graced your lips at the sound. 

“That’s alright, Pads; there’s always plan B.”

“What’s plan B?” Regulus asked cautiously. 

“That’s for us to know and you to find out, dear brother.” Sirius announced as he stood and ruffled Regulus’ curls before turning to stalk away from the table, throwing a hasty ‘nice chatting, L/N’ over his shoulder before he disappeared around the corner.

“But…” Remus continued once he knew Sirius was out of ear shot. “Maybe don’t eat breakfast tomorrow at the Slytherin table.”

“Thanks Lupin.” Regulus grumbled, equal parts exhausted by his brother’s antics and grateful for Remus’ warning. 

“Later Black, L/N.” He called as he followed after Sirius. 

Regulus turned back towards the table to see you staring intently at your notes, though you seemed to be doing little more than fiddling with your quill. 

“That was impressive; it’s usually impossible to shut my brother up like that.” He offered carefully, hopefully, eagerly.

Gods, he was a mess. 

You smiled and looked up at him through your lashes. “He was killing our vibes.” You replied in barely a whisper.

Regulus chuckled disbelievingly; not only did you feel comfortable enough to speak to him or in front of him, but that comfort seemed to extend to the likes of his brother and his brother’s boyfriend. 

And you felt like the two of you had vibes, and that Sirius was a threat to those vibes.

Surely he was dreaming? Hallucinating? This couldn’t be real?

But there you were, sitting across from him as you so often were, looking at him shyly and hopefully and very much real; Regulus felt as though the two of you were on the brink of something.

“I agree; I enjoy your company very much, if I’m being honest."

You smiled at him again -  and it was a more open smile this time, less hopeful and more grateful, less shy and more confident - quickly signing what Regulus knew to be the BSL sign for ‘me too’. 

Feeling quite vindicated, Regulus finally pulled his gaze away from you and smiled down at his notebook. “That’s great to hear, because I may need to keep you on standby for the next time my brother starts harassing me.”

And Regulus was certain he’d be hearing the sound of your laughter in all of his sweetest dreams going forward. 

[lenaboskow]

IM INDECISVE 📓💭🔎🔥🍎

LISTENNNNNN THIS IS ME PRACTICING SELF RESTRAINT

batting my eyelashes at you, twirling my hair and reminding you that you knew this is who i was when you married me

hi baby sorry this took so long but only the best for you <3 (i'll get the blankets for the couch)

📓--

“Evan, I promise you you are not a shitty friend. I just– you do realize this is almost the exact way you acted when Eddie was hanging out with Tommy, right?”

“But I don’t like Josh, not that way,” Buck replied. 

“You didn’t like Tommy all that much, either, considering you broke up with him after only a few months.”

💭-- (i can't remember if i ever posted anything with this in a previous game so if this isn't new then oops)

Evan Buckley always wondered what it’d be like to meet his soulmates. Since the day he was born, he’d walked around with a reminder of one of them, two black lines wrapped around his right arm, right below his elbow. When he was younger, Maddie had told him his soulmate could either match it, or compliment it, but he wouldn’t know which until he met them.

When he asked her how he’d know it was them if they didn’t match, she’d just smiled and said “You’ll know”.

He never realized exactly how he’d know.

🔎-- (i wrote this just for you baby)

Bobby sat next to him while Buck was in surgery, explained that he’d had him drive because he didn’t want to make Eddie watch another partner die in the back of an ambulance, but it felt like a half-truth. The knowledge that it wasn’t just himself comparing the event to him losing Shannon, despite the fact that he and Buck weren’t together, didn’t help.

The comparison was also the reason that Eddie hadn’t entered Buck’s hospital room. He’d stood outside it, sure, but he hadn’t gone inside. Even seeing Buck in his peripheral vision when glancing at Bobby sitting by his son’s side was too much. The last time he’d seen someone hooked up like Buck was, it was Shannon in the back of the ambulance. He could still hear Chimney’s voice saying “If I put this tube in, there’s a good chance it’s not coming back out”. It was all he could think of when he looked at Buck, so he didn’t.

🔥-- (this entire chapter is shaping up to be incredibly domestic i apologize in advance)

When Eddie woke up the next morning, it was to a warm weight pressing up against his back and over his side; a weight he hadn’t felt since quarantine. He’d gotten so used to it back then, that when it came time for him to return home, he’d had to practically glue his mouth shut to prevent him from asking Buck to come back with him. 

The look on Buck’s face had told him he was thinking the same thing.

🍎--

“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously, Buck.”

“No, I’m not. You weren’t at the last bake sale, you didn’t hear what she said.”

“Well, the brownies were a little crispier around the edges than normal, but that’s fine! We’re firefighters, the PTA understands that sometimes we’re a little rushed to do things and will accidentally leave the brownies in the oven for a minute longer than we’re supposed to because we're tired from shift."

--

make me write

--

tag list (for the burn the loft fic): @mazzystar24 @domesticationkills @nosaladallowed-ao3

[haechanhues]

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

S I D E : A

word count : 1k

warnings : implied sex. very suggestive. no hate towards cookies. A possibility of ‘i’d never wear that’ and kind of an implied body type but not necessarily.

After the whole fiasco with Na Jaemin, you felt next to nothing when your surface level friendship dissolved into a pile of dust. Because you had found a friend in Lee Haechan. A soulmate, maybe. 

You thought it was love when you hooked up on a tipsy night out together. Your hands tangled in his hair and the taste of beer on his tongue. He made you feel very special. That night and a couple of nights afterwards. You weren’t a stranger to his bed, but you weren’t a stranger to his heart either and it was of the beautiful kind. 

You thought it was love when he insisted you try the popular dessert place in town. You dressed up as did he and he paid for it. The laugh you spluttered after he put the dessert in his mouth and screwed his face up, you’re pretty sure it was a laugh of love. . You’re certain you caused a scene with all your laughing but with a forced polite smile, he led you to the grocery store. 

“Pick something,” Haechan insisted, cocking his head to the items in the aisle, “We’re gonna do some proper baking so I can get the taste of cream out of my mouth.” 

“Cream,” You laugh. 

He mocked your giggle good naturedly, “Yes, cream.” 

You reached for the cheapest chocolate chip cookie box, missing his judgemental stare to the side of your face. He reached forward, urgently returning the box back to where you got it despite your pleas of confusion and resistance. 

“If I’m gonna get dirty doing some shit baking, we are making something more than basic bitch cookies. Pick something good, c’mon. Think ‘food porn’ not ‘bake sale.” 

You thought it was love when he decorated your face with more icing than said baking and when he kissed you, making a mess out of the two of you with fluffy pink swirls of cream-like sugar. 

And when you had told him about Yuta, about Hendery and about Park Jisung, you knew it was love. Definite love. One that was returned. 

“I love you,” You confessed, four months after befriending him by chance.

“I love you too,” Haechan smiled, cupping your cheek and swiping at a stray eyelash underneath your eye. 

You didn’t feel like he was lying, because he wasn’t. You liked that you knew it too. That he didn’t make you play a guessing game that catered to him. Nor did he feel the need to assert it at every chance he got. 

It’s a love that remains and will continue to remain a love you can never explain but one that you and Haechan will just…get. 

He tells you about his friends, Na Jaemin sometimes included. He nicknames them. His friend with a lot of pent up anger was Grizzly, who Haechan tells you has been receiving a Haechan-special rehab in which he’s learning to be a little sweeter and to take his anger out on other things (games, for one). The other, Clumsy in which Haechan acts all cool about but in reality is very protective of him. He says that he’s someone clumsy and needs a lot of looking after. 

You think he’s sweeter when he tells you these things. 

He has a lot of friends, but Grizzly and Clumsy are the two you’re most familiar with and the ones Haechan talks the most about. 

When you had gone to get ready to go on a date with someone that wasn’t Haechan or anyone remotely important (you forgot his name and didn’t even end up staying for even three minutes.) 

You bit your lip uncertain, eyes zigzagging back and forth between the mirror and Haechan’s sitting frame, his eyes dark and appreciative. You were wearing a sparkly red, with a slight slit going up the side of your thigh. 

“I don’t know,” You pouted, picking at your flaws. 

Haechan sighed with a good-natured roll of his eyes, standing up alongside you before heading to your wardrobe, pulling out another dress by the coat hanger. You watch him, interested, before reaching out to receive it only for him to regard you judgmentally. 

“What are you doing?” 

What? 

Your chin pulls back in confusion, “Huh? The dress-” 

“This is for me,” Haechan scoffs, undressing in front of you. You try not to gawk at his body that you have admittedly seen and enjoyed for months now. In fact, you like Haechan so much you’re not even totally sure why you’re going on a date in the first place. 

Wait…. 

“You?” 

Haechan cocks an eyebrow at you, “Yeah, me. Confidence, babe.” 

You giggle, watching as he slips the dress over his body, before checking himself out in the mirror, “Is my bulge bulging?” 

Unable to help it, your eyes drop straight down to the area, seeing the imprint of it through the fabric of your dress, “A bit.” 

“Pervert,” Haechan narrowed his eyes. 

“You asked!” You bickered back with him. Laughter in your tone. 

“Yeah to check not to gawk at me and bite your lip,” Haechan asserted sassily. 

“And when did I ‘bite my lip’ huh?” You teased back. Haechan casted a faux look of disgust your way and you couldn’t help the way your whole body tingled with excitement. 

With the silence, he pulled the dress down and straightened out the fabric and you admired the way the dress fit him. Somehow you felt he could pull it off a little bit better than you. 

“Hey, don’t do that,” Haechan reprimanded, cupping your face in his hands, “You look gorgeous. Completely gorgeous. In fact, when you’re done with this date, I want to take you out in the same dress. Not tonight…but another time.” 

“I hope you’re dressed like that too,” You comment to which he grins before pressing a chaste sweet kiss to your lips. 

“Whatever you want, baby.” 

Seriously, you feel like you’re floating. 

You ask yourself again, for the nth time that night why you were going on a date with a different guy when something was clearly drawing you in to Haechan. 

S I D E : B

THE SERIAL LOVER

in which a girl farewells every boy she’s ever loved (or at least had romantic feelings for) in order to prove that her feelings for one particular boy are very real and unwavering. 

chapter sixteen : lee donghyuck

masterlist | prev | next

taglist : @matchahyuck @haisuken @dinonuguaegi @replayenthusiast @90s-belladonna @scftharu @ahnneyong @liliansun

[allwaswell16]

I never read an A/B/O fic. Do you have suggestions which fics are good for a newbie?

Oooh okay. Hmmm...Okay, so I'm going to try my best here. First, here is a primer with links that I did for beginners:

🌸 A/B/O Primer

The first one I ever read, which is what got me hooked is:

Cameras Flashing by @juliusschmidt​ (E, 81k)

With his breakout single platinum three times over and his second album still selling out in stores around the world, Louis Tomlinson has made it to the top. However, his position as Pop Heartthrob of the Decade is threatened by the edgier, more artistic Zayn, who happens to be releasing an album a week after Louis’ upcoming third. Louis needs something groundbreaking- scandalous, even- to push past him in the charts. Much to Louis’ dismay, his PR team calls in The Sexpert.

Consulting with PR firm Shady, Lane and Associates pays the bills so that Harry Styles can spend his down time doing what he really loves: poring over data. On weekends and late into the evenings, he researches gender, presentation, and sexual orientation, analysing the longitudinal study that is his father’s life’s work. That is, until his newest client, the popstar with the fascinating secret, drags him off his couch and frighteningly close to the spotlight.

As the album’s release date approaches, will Tomlinson and Styles be able to pull off the most risky PR scheme of the millennium and beat Zayn in sales or will the heat of their feelings for each other compromise everything?

For beginners, I think I'll recommend some favorites of mine that have some world building, but aren't deep into wolf lore.

 Light, Spark and Fire (series) by green_feelings / @greenfeelings (E/M, 239k)

Life’s pretty ordinary for Harry. He lives with his best friend, got into university just like he’s planned, and manages to support himself just fine for an unbonded omega. If he sustains that lifestyle by getting paid to help alphas through their rut every now and then, that’s nothing to be hung up on. Until he’s hired by an alpha that turns everything upside down.

Or, Harry’s working on taking Louis’ walls down, until he builds his own up.

where the lights are beautiful (series) by twoshipsdrifting / @polkadotlou (E, 48k)

Harry wasn’t wrong about that, not in a general sense. Lots of omegas did seek out rich alphas and betas, hoping or planning to go into heat at the right time. Plenty of omegas saw this as their duty, especially if their families weren’t well off. Worse, Louis couldn’t honestly say he’d never thought about it. If that had been his life, his goal, Louis would feel pretty good about himself now. As it is…Louis feels like shit.

Or the accidental bonding a/b/o fic.

Just for Tonight (I can be yours) by @sadaveniren (E, 42k)

Harry, prince of Cestrescir, has been betrothed to Ludvic, prince of Yorvik, since birth. He'd accepted a loveless marriage as his duty to his country, until an accident threw him in the path of a gentle alpha

Anybody Have a Map? by @2tiedships2 (NR, 12k)

Niall rolled his eyes, “You two are weird. Fine. Me and Liam will go by ourselves. Party poopers.”

Niall got up to get ready but first turned to Louis and asked, “Lou are you still kicking me out next week? I’ll see if I can make plans with Liam.”

Louis cringed. Because of course Niall would say something in front of Harry.

“Yeah,” Louis stated. “That’s still the plan. Now run along my little Irish idiot.”

Niall skipped the ten feet to his bedroom to get ready. Louis steeled himself for Harry’s inquiry.

“What’s next week, Lou?” Harry looked down at him with a confused look in his eyes.

Or the one where Louis met Harry in NYC where they bonded as fellow Brits in the large city. Years later, with Louis' upcoming heat, maybe it's time for their friendship to become something more.

a body wishes to be held & held by @turnyourankle​ (E, 9k)

Harry wants to return the favour after Louis helps him out with his heat.

And if you end up loving these like I hope you do, here are my other a/b/o fic recs:

🌸 A/B/O Fics / Part Two / Part Three

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Alpha Harry

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Canon

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Daddy Kink

🌸  A/B/O Fics - Long

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Luna Louis

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Omega Drop

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Omega/Omega

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Short

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Styles Triplets

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Styles Twins

🌸 A/B/O Fics - Touch Deprivation

[cosmiccannibalcamille]

This Week's Astrology: Aug. 26, 2024

Have you HEARD the news? My debut novel, Jupiter Returns, is launching for pre-sale! Keep an eye on your inbox for sneak peeks, launch events, and more fun stuff. I hope you’ll join me in celebrating this long-awaited release. Anyway, onto the astrology!

     This week’s astrology is a primer for the month of September. Which, is just around the corner—and, while I’m on the subject, September is PACKED with astrology (including, but not limited to: eclipse season 😬). But it seems like this final week of August is helping to make the transition with ease. That’s not to say September is an easygoing, free-flowing month per se, but it certainly doesn’t look as chaotic as August was.  

     If you’re like me—i.e.: a mutable Sun / Moon, with a Fixed Rising sign—August was tough, maybe even the toughest month of 2024 so far. Even though Friday was “victorious”1, the days and weeks prior were less so. There was a LOT of tension, frustration, deceleration, and stress. I felt stuck, unmotivated, tired, exasperated, and like I (kinda) knew where I wanted to go, but wasn’t able to gain traction or momentum on anything; nor did I feel particularly confident in anything. Such is the case with square aspects in astrology. Me, pretty much all of August.

     These pesky aspects provoke, antagonize, block, annoy, and stifle you all at once. They can feel as thwarting and tiring as they feel aggravating, like life has crammed you into a garlic press and is squeezing with all its might to mince you. But at the same time, squares can also help you; because it’s in those times of frustration, forestalling, and feeling crushed that you can gain clarity on what you really want. Even if you don’t move forward with it right away, even if you aren’t 100% gung-ho about your desire, you know it. And knowing is half the battle. 

     Last week, we had not one, but four of those squares in the sky. And Mercury retrograde. And a full moon. So, it was an exceptionally charged week. Maybe, like me, you felt heavy, weighed down by all the things you want to do, but weren’t 100% certain any of them mattered; so you couldn’t decide what to move forward with. (That’s what mutable sign squares feel like, btw. Equal parts indecisiveness, derailment, and discouragement. I would know: my Sun and Moon are square in mutable signs 😬.) But in this final week of August, you get a much-needed reprieve—and maybe even some sweetness.

     This is a week to move forward—with both the project / goal(s) that had you stumped these last two weeks, and with fresh projects, fresh ideas. It’s a week that encourages indulgence, dabbling in creative activities, daydreaming, and/or reveling in some beauty. Tuesday fosters fresh energy, innovation, and giving/receiving a pleasant surprise. On Wednesday, there might be a little emotional fog, but Mercury stations direct, bringing confidence in communication and forward movement. Thursday has artistic, romantic, and maybe even justice-driven vibes, with a chance for powerful connections. 

     As the week winds down, September opens with two important retrograde movements involving outer planets Uranus & Pluto. Though outer planet retrogrades are totally normal (as many of those planets are retrograde half the year), they still pull focus. They still mean something. And they also set the tone for the rest of September, which, as I mentioned, is LOADED with astrology. Anyway, that’s the gist of this week. Here’s the actual astrology:

August 27th: Venus in Virgo trine Uranus in Taurus, 27°

August 28th: Venus in Virgo opposes Retrograde Neptune in Pisces, 29° 

August 28th: Mercury stations direct in Leo, 21° 

August 29th: Venus enters Libra

August 29th: Venus in Libra trines Retrograde Pluto in Aquarius, 0°

September 1st: Uranus stations retrograde in Taurus, 27°

September 1st: Retrograde Pluto re-enters Capricorn, 29° 

Read the FULL forecast for this week's astrology on The Cosmic Almanac:

[landofzero-archive]

Rouge&Ruby - Compassion and Warmth 2

(Location: Cafe COCHI)

Jun: Then, um……

Hiyori: Or rather, since then I’ve been thinking about it.

I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a normal Valentine’s Day.

Looking back, I just thought it was a time when I would get a lot of chocolate.

Now that I’m thinking about it, was that perhaps chocolate that had been prepared for Valentine’s Day?

Jun: No no, you can’t just say “perhaps” about something like that!

The thing is, you received but never returned the favor……

…… No, I’m afraid to ask about that. I’m sure Ohiisan’ll just respond with something on the spot.

(Changing the subject) Wh-what about Nagi-senpai?

Hiyori: Although Nagisa-kun likes chocolate, he probably doesn’t know as much about Valentine’s Day as I do, does he?

I’ve never heard anything about Valentine’s Day from Nagisa-kun……

But what should I do if he gets a lot of chocolate without my knowledge……!

Jun: How should I know? Well, since he has Ibara now he’s probably gonna get told “You’re out of free calories!” and get it confiscated from him.

Hiyori: How terrible! Nagisa-kun should hand it to me!

Jun: Do you want him to have it or not?

Hiyori: …… So, back to the topic at hand. What does Jun-kun think of as a normal Valentine’s Day?

Jun: Normally, well……

I get fidgety when Valentine’s gets close, and I’m nervous about getting chocolate.

I’d be happy if I got some on that day, but then I’d be worrying about what to get in return for White Day…… That kind of thing.

Hiyori: Oh ho♪

Jun: From the girls’ point of view I’m sure it’s different.

They’re thinking of the other person. What kind of chocolate should it be, how to prepare it, what to wrap it in……

They get worried about various things and it gets their heart beating I think.

Hiyori: Oh? Oh ho, heeh~?

(I didn’t think Jun-kun would have such sweet and sour memories.

Fufu. For some reason, I even felt a tightness in my chest……♪)

Jun: —It’s usually like that, in the manga I read at least.

Hiyori: …… Hm?

Jun: Lately, I’ve been trying to get into Shoujo manga too.

Hey, maybe one day there’ll be a job to do a live-action adaptation of such heart-wrenching works.

Hiyori: …… Hmm?

Jun: Oh here it is. This manga’s a pretty hot topic right now.

Volume 3 has a Valentine’s Day chapter…… Yet another development that’ll tug at your heartstrings~♪

Hiyori: W-Wait a minute! Why are you proudly showing me your phone screen?!

What you’ve got there is…… an e-book, right?

Jun: Yeah. With this I won’t clutter up my dorm so much since I can read without buying the physical thing♪

Hiyori: Then, what you said just now weren’t your thoughts on Valentine’s Day……

Jun: Nope. I don’t think I have any kind of sweet or sour memories of it.

Hiyori: Why……

The fact that it’s purely influenced by manga is very typical of you.

It’s a pity that my innocent heart, which was so moved by the thought of Jun-kun having such memories, was led astray.

Jun: I’m not responsible for the fantasies you came up with.

Hiyori: …… Yeah~. But it means Jun-kun doesn’t have any normal Valentine’s Day experiences after all.

What about the all important Ibara?

Jun: Well…… That guy probably doesn’t know what a normal Valentine’s Day is, right?

He said Valentine’s was a big sales season and then got oddly silent when I objected……

Hiyori: …… Ibara is also carrying all kinds of burdens too, isn’t he? I do recall him referring to his past as his gray youth.

Jun: …… So basically, none of us know what a  normal Valentine’s Day is like?

Hiyori: It seems that way. And since we’re performing in Chocolat Fes, this is a big deal!

“I’m…… late giving this to you. Your Valentine’s chocolate.”

“Th-Thank you…… I didn’t think I’d get one, so this makes me happy……”

Jun: …… What are you doing putting on a small play as one person with two roles.

Hiyori: I’m just reading off the manga page Jun-kun showed me. Hmm, so this is a normal Valentine’s Day……

Jun: In the manga, but…

Hiyori: But you got your image of a normal Valentine’s Day from manga, didn’t you?

That’s right, to the extent that the word love gets said……

So, if you could just tell Ibara that Valentine’s Day isn’t only about sales……!

Jun: If he thinks it’s a day full of love then he’ll keep the adults’ agenda out of it—

…… Will he?

Hiyori: You won’t know if it’ll work until you try it♪

Additionally, isn’t it necessary for us to experience a normal Valentine’s Day in the meantime?

Since no one here knows what one’s like?

Jun: Experience… Experience…… Yep.

In terms of experiencing Valentine’s Day, wouldn’t it be good to try and make chocolate~?

What kind of chocolate should I make to make it seem Valentine’s Days-y… For now I should just do a quick search……

Hiyori: Fufu. Then until we have to get back to work let’s study up on Valentine’s Day.

I’ll read from the manga Jun-kun was looking at……♪

Previous | Directory | Next

[nickgerlich]

Crisis Point

Corporate crises have been happening for as long as corporations have existed. It’s just that when they happen today, corporations are far more exposed and vulnerable. It’s not so much that they are intentionally being transparent. No, it’s because they are so visible.

We can thank social media and always-on, 24/7 news coverage from many sources. You can run, but you can’t hide.

Yesterday I recorded a forthcoming episode of BuffSpeak, the official podcast of the Engler College of Business. My guest was Dr. Kris Drumheller, with whom I have done many studies on crisis communication. We have had numerous journal articles and book chapters published on the subject. That episode will drop on 4th March.

We chatted for more than an hour, but could have easily gone on for two or three. This is a subject ripe for discussion, for examination and dissection. And while we may all learn a little bit more each time a company faces a crisis—often of their own doing, mind you—each week it seems there is another entrant into the sweepstakes to see who can fall into the biggest mess.

Of course, sometimes a crisis happens at no fault of the company. I summon what is probably the best text book example of how a company had a crisis served to it, and then responded so perfectly that it has stood the test of time as the model of how to do it right.

That would be the Tylenol case of 1982. Johnson & Johnson, the manufacturer, was faced with the inconceivable: product tampering. An unknown person or persons in Chicago had laced Tylenol painkillers with cyanide. Seven people died, including a child. The poisonings were seemingly random across Chicagoland, but that was the geographic extent of the problem.

Keep in mind that there were no social media sites in 1982, only daily newspapers, the evening news, and a very young CNN still finding its rhythm. While citizens may have been waiting with bated breath for the latest headline, the emphasis was on “waiting.”

J&J then did the unprecedented: they pulled their own product nationwide, not just Chicago. Sales plummeted to absolute zero. But within months, Tylenol was back, this time in tamper-resistant packaging. You know. The kinds of screw caps that only make your headache worse when you really need to get a couple of painkillers.

But it was the right move, and we can thank J&J not just for packaging innovation (or curse them—your call), but also focusing on the main issue: consumer safety. They weren’t worried about their own well being; no, they were willing to absorb a lot of red ink while they searched for a solution to the problem, one that any other company could have been victimized over.

A killer was never found, although one person was arrested for trying to extort $1 million from J&J. This person spent 12 years in prison, but could not be tied to the killings. He was just an opportunist. And as soon as Tylenol returned to shelves, sales took off, the general public comfortable and assured that they were safe once more.

Yeah. You can’t get better than that.Skip forward 40 years or so, and we have the crisis of the week playing out on social media and the news. But things are different now. Whereas sales after a crisis typically formed a “Crisis U” shape on the graph, in which sales drop but then rebound, they are now increasingly likely to be the “Crisis L,” as detailed in a recent Harvard Business Review article.

That’s another way of saying that sales go off a cliff, and then eventually settle in at a new normal much lower than before. Worse yet, in our highly polarized society, it is now not just possible, but also highly likely, that when companies do anything, they will offend about 50% of their customers. And when that happens, the victimized company can only brace themselves, while their competitors may reap unexpected benefits.

Which is exactly how Molson Coors contends its beer sales shot upward last year. Net sales were up 9.3%, due in large part—or so they contend—from the Bud Light crisis last April. We can certainly debate cause and effect all day long, but those beer sales had to go somewhere. And as we have noted earlier, a lot also went to Modelo, which, oddly enough, is also brewed by AB InBev.

The question is whether this change is sustainable. For that matter, should Molson Coors redirect marketing efforts to appeal to the more conservative Bud Light ex-pats? That would be dangerous, because then they would offend others. But then again, it would be nice to hang on to this sales bump.

These are rough times for companies, and there will be a new victim next week as sure as the sun rises in the east. And the week after. On and on, companies doing things that ruffle feathers and irritate sensibilities.

Oh, that corporate crises could be as straightforward as the one that Tylenol faced 42 years ago. J&J can almost thank their lucky stars that the crisis was not about them, but rather everyone and the safety of a nation. While the crises we see today typically have nothing to do with product safety, there is still much to be gleaned. Focus on the bigger issue. Always be concerned about the well-being of the consumer. Stick to your mission, pray for calmer waters, and hope that your sales chart is a U and not an L.

Be sure to give a listen to BuffSpeak soon. This is a good episode, and on a topic that every corporate employee needs to be cognizant of.

Dr “Hold Your Tongue” Gerlich

Audio Blog

[briamichellewrites]

9

Bria purchased a 2000 Maserati Quattroporte for herself. The car cost twenty-seven thousand, six hundred ten dollars. It joined her and Brad’s car collection. He already had a few that he drove, while she owned two. They talked about expanding their garage to accommodate their car collection and motorcycles. She finally sold her mother’s house for two million dollars, which was a lot more money than what she bought it for in 1981.

Her stock was rising, leaving her with enough money to last the rest of her life. That included the sale of her father’s apartment in Cannes. They were interested in buying a house in the south of France someday. Maybe even Italy. Brad loved the country for its wine. She kept her father’s private plane because it was useful. He mentioned buying a yacht.

She decided to leave that up to him because she knew nothing about yachts. If he bought one, he would have to use his money, not hers. Linda agreed that was a smart decision. It was just in case it turned out to be a bad investment. He had no problem with that and he agreed to do more research. While talking with Mike and Brad, she learned the trouble they were having with their record label, Warner Music. They wanted to fire Mike, but Chester stood up for him by telling them to go fuck themselves.

It was an incredibly risky thing to say because it could have cost them everything. They were thinking about starting their own label company, so they could have more freedom. She offered to invest ten percent in their company. They thanked her. It wasn’t set in stone yet, as it was just an idea. She asked them to let her know when or if they were going to do it. They promised they would.

The band was blown away by her offer. She didn’t have to invest anything. They thought ten percent was fair because they weren’t expecting anything. It let them know how much she believed in their careers. She believed in them more than their label did. Their struggles with Warner Music brought them closer together as brothers and as a band. Chester was having a hard time. He broke down in tears during a recording session.

They learned that he had been sexually abused as a child while going through his parent’s divorce. They also learned he struggled with depression from being bullied in school. It made them see the sadness inside of him. He wasn’t just singing about mental illness, he was living it.

Bria sometimes dropped by the studio with Tiny to give them a kitten break. She loved the attention and pets they gave her. Hi, humans! She nibbled on Rob’s finger after he offered it to her. Yum. He tasted like a human. Bria took great care of her. They could tell she was spoiled with love and attention. She was gradually getting bigger with her healthy diet.

At four months old, she was used to being the center of attention. Her favorite human was Brad and he loved her in return. He carried her around the house. She met his parents when they stopped by to see the new place. They watched her play in the living room while they talked with Brad and Bria. She was an active little kitten. Her baby teeth had fallen out and she was getting her adult teeth. That meant a lot of chewing. Bria bought her a baby chew toy.

She loved playing with it because it made a crinkly sound. Her vet scheduled her to be spayed to prevent problems. She didn’t know what that was but it didn’t sound pleasant.

Brad was caught between his mother and his girlfriend. She didn’t appreciate her telling him what he could or could not spend his money on. Bria did everything she could to explain what she meant. He told her to let him deal with his mother because he knew her the best. She explained the situation to Mike and Phoenix when she stopped by. They had her start from the beginning.

“Brad came to me and said he was looking into buying a yacht. He wasn’t asking my permission. Rather, he was just starting a conversation. I told him that if he wanted to buy a yacht, he would have to use his own money in case it was a bad investment.”

“Well, yeah. Yachts are expensive. What did he say”, Phoenix asked.

“He didn’t have a problem with that because it made sense. I was leaving it up to him. His mother, Jane got offended because she thought I was controlling what he could and couldn’t buy. He knew that he didn’t need my permission and that he wasn’t asking for it.”

They didn’t see it as her being controlling. She was setting a boundary for him. That’s what she thought but she never had to deal with that kind of situation before. So, she wasn’t one hundred percent sure. Mike told her to let him talk to her. She was going to do that. He could buy whatever he wanted. As long as he didn’t spend all of his money.

Jane apologized for overstepping. She should have left the yacht up to her and Brad. Bria thanked her for her apology and forgave her. Brad appreciated her apologizing. He made it very clear to her that he intended to marry Bria. All he wanted was for her to respect that. Neither Jane nor William had any idea he was that serious about her. They knew she was a serious girlfriend, but they didn’t know they were talking about getting married.

Yeah, they were. They wanted to get married in the future. That was why he had them meet her. Okay, they would do better. He thanked them. To be fair, Bria was trying her hardest to get them to accept her. She didn’t have any family left, so she wanted to make a good impression on them.

Short but sweet. Brad talked to his parents and his mother apologized to me for overstepping. I’m seriously going to keep this guy forever! – Bria

At nineteen, she wasn’t ready to get married. They decided to wait another year to get engaged. He knew that she was going to be the woman he spent the rest of his life with. It didn’t matter what anyone said. She called him handsome and fine wine whenever he didn’t like the way his body was getting older. He loved hearing that. Turning forty was going to be difficult. It reminded him that he would never be young again. Ever since Thelma and Louise, people commented on his appearance.

He didn’t like the attention because he didn’t see himself as anything but ordinary. It was all superficial. The only person he wanted to comment on his appearance was her because it felt more personal. Nineteen. He could only wish for a woman like her at nineteen. They were going to try to get pregnant in a year. He couldn’t wait to become a father! She was going to be a great mom!

“I don’t think Tyler Durden would fucking care if someone didn’t like him.”

He laughed. “He would not care. You’re right about that. Have you seen that movie?”

“No, but I should sometimes. Maybe I can get Mike, Phoenix, and Chester to watch it with me. I’m sure Chester would love that!”

“Well, let me know what you think when you decide to watch it. Just do it when I’m not here, so I don’t have to see it.”

She promised she would. He jokingly asked her what the first rule of Fight Club was. She answered the number one rule was you don’t talk about Fight Club. He laughed. She joked she was the product of the internet. He laughed before feeling Tiny rub up against his leg. Hi, human! He bent over and picked her up. She purred loudly in happiness, as laid in his arms.

@zoeykaytesmom @feelingsofaithless @alina-dixon @fiickle-nia

[no-vamos]

Hello friends

I have returned

it’s been a week and honestly, today was the first time I like truly talked to CB in like two weeks… I think… anyways

SO today is MCC relief sale where I live and this morning when I was hanging out with two of my friends at their spot on the 5k he was coming down the hill and I waved at him and said hi👋 and he waved back and said hi👋 and ah that was nice

and then

so i was sneaky and changed my volunteer spot to be the same as his (bc technically i had a friend who was volunteering during his slot so i just switched to be with her but really i was switching to be with him)

AND THEN i didn’t even really interact with him during our volunteer shift lol i was always doing something else

but when i had moments where they weren’t instructing me to do things, i was hanging out with him at the cash register making a one person job a two person job

ah he’s so nice

and then after we were done i forget how i started talking to him? i think he was just standing at a table and i walked up to him and started talking

Like i said “have a good weekend” but he heard “how was your weekend” so he said “good” and then i laughed it off and we started talking

and i asked how the rest of his day looked

and he said he was going to go home to clean (bc his family lives in a historical house and they run a b&b in it as well) so i was helping him kill time by holding conversation and about a half hour ish into our conversation his mom comes by with his youngest sister and basically says there’s nothing left to clean and they talk about when he’s coming home and such but that was mostly that and then they leave and it’s just us two again

and we hold more conversation and other people show up and come by and we talk with them but it was always the two of us i think we were together for like at least 2 hours

and then i went off to “help” him find cider and also buy cider myself

and like through all of this he didn’t say anything like telling me to bug off or like that he was gonna leave until after we bought the cider like he waited until i bought my cider before he was like “i should leave” and then left and i’m kinda sad he didn’t walk me back to the donuts but ah that’s wishful thinking i suppose

and yea i mostly talked at him but like i asked questions and he talked and stuff (majority of it prompted but conversation is conversation) and he looked at me the whole time like eye contact and everything

he at least appeared somewhat entertained and yea i was selling it off as helping him procrastinate going home but i wanted to talk to him and it seemed like he wanted to talk to me idk maybe i’m reading too much

but here are things i learned while talking to him:

- he has 4 cats: Pebble, Amber, Smoky(?) and Bear (and i think that’s so fucking cute he showed me a picture of Bear and I wish I had asked which one of his cats was his favorite but that’s a questions for another day)

- if he were to replace one of his sisters he’d get rid of the youngest one (out of love)

- his mom wants him to cut his hair but he thinks it looks nice and she’s the only one who thinks that so he hasn’t cut it (a lady literally walked up to him while we were talking and was like “i like your hair. my son has hair like yours” and it was so interesting. he was really kind about it. i also told him i liked his hair. it’s honestly unfair his curls are so nice and all he does it shower and brush his hair before he sleeps and then wears a baseball cap over it and it still looks nice and like it’s so unfair wtf)

- lmao this is an update from something that happened a while ago but he missed part of junior day out to go to court for this speeding ticket he got a while ago but he has to go back in november bc the cop that pulled him over wrote a) the wrong time and b) had him as general when he’s juvenile and so he has to go get that fixed and he’s frustrated about it bc he’s missing classes he really enjoys

- he’s procrastinating doing church visits for a class bc he doesn’t want to miss our church service (valid so valid)

- his favorite classes rn are Organic Chemistry, Physics, Choir, and there was one more but i’m blanking on which one

- he’s often mistaken as a college student and he’s confused why

- this isn’t about him but it clears something up for me, the girl i was jealous of that was talking to him that one time is in fact “dating” one of his friends so i’m going to assume that means there’s nothing between them (even tho i have no right to be jealous of them)

- we talked a lot about course loads and the like, i like gave him advice and i’m hoping i wasn’t too… idk annoying about it ig

RAHH i talked to him for such a long time but i want to talk to him moreeeeeee

[hollybell51]

Chapter Three

The part where the love interest saves your life (kind of) 

Our Treasure - Jim Hawkins x fem!Reader

Chapter Two, masterpost

Word count: 1214

Summary: Disaster strikes the RSL Legacy in the form of a black hole, adding a new level to the blossoming friendship between you and Jim. 

The next few weeks were fun. That was really the only way you could describe them. Jim was funny and generally pretty nice, that was when he wasn’t sulking about something. He picked things up very fast, and was cool to hang around with. You didn’t realise it, but you’d missed being around people your own age and species. Most of the time you helped with Jim’s chores, as John insisted on giving him way too much to do. Your favourite thing to do was tell him stories from around the galaxy. 

Now, as you returned from what was not the first of Jim’s skip-flying lessons with John (although “lessons” was a term you would have used loosely since they mainly consisted of Jim’s snappy steering and John’s too-late and often ignored instructions rather than any actual education), you couldn’t help but feel that your fast-blossoming friendship with Jim had somehow been planned by the universe. It was a wake-up call, and a breath of fresh air. 

“That was amazing!” You laughed, straining against one of the landing craft’s ropes and tying it off. “We have to do that again.”

“If I could manoeuvre a skip like that when I was your age,” John said,, “they’d be bowing in the streets when I walked by today!”

“Bowing in the streets!” Morph mimicked.

“I dunno,” Jim grunted, tying a knot, “they weren’t exactly singing my praises when I left home.” He flopped down, leaning back against the side of the small craft. “But I’m gonna change all that.”

“Yeah?” you asked, sitting down beside him.

“Ah,” he said, “I got some plans. Gonna make people see me a little different.”

“Oh,” John sighed, “sometimes plans go astray.”

“Not this time.” Jim smiled, closing his eyes.

“Mmm.” John lifted up his cybernetic leg, loosening a nut with a spanner duly provided by Morph.

“So, ah, how’d that happen, anyway?” Jim asked, gesturing to the leg.

“You give up a few things chasin’ a dream.” John said sadly.

“Was it worth it?”

“I’m hopin’ it is, Jimbo.” The cook got up and sat down in the space between you, his real arm around Jim and the cybernetic one around you. You liked this, the easy camaraderie that came with being on a ship, the casual way in which you all fitted together. In another life, you would have liked to off Jim a place where he was now -- on John’s other side, with you.  

Suddenly, the ship rocked violently, jerking you from your reverie. You jumped up, grabbing onto a rope and jumping out of the skip. You all ran up to the main deck, where everyone was doing the same thing.

“What the devil?” John said, and you cursed.  

“The star Permusa!” Dr Doppler shouted from above, “It��s gone supernova!”

“All hands fasten your lifelines!” Mr Arrow yelled, and you rushed to comply. Everything was hot and windy, with fiery pieces of star flying around and burning holes through the sales.

“Secure those sales!” Captain Amelia yelled, and Mr Arrow relayed the order.

“Come on!” you shouted, running out along the yard arm and grabbing a rope. “Help me pull this one!”

Jim grabbed it above you and together you pulled in the sale. A meteor streaked towards and you dodged it, but another one hit beside John who fell off the yard arm, only saved by his lifeline and cybernetic arm. You kept pulling at the sale as Jim went to help him, but you were getting closer to an even larger piece of star.

Just as it was about to hit you, it drew away again, and you soon saw why. You were headed directly for a black hole, and there was nothing you could do to avoid it.

“Oh God,” you said faintly, watching the spot in the middle of the swirling fire become ever closer.

“All sales secured!” Mr Arrow yelled below.

“Good man!” the Captain shouted back, “now release them immediately!”

“Aye Captain,” he said. “You heard her, men! Unfurl those sales!”

“Mr Hawkins!” the Captain called to Jim, “make sure all lifelines are secured good and tight!”

“Aye aye Captain!” Jim called back, jumping down from the rigging and running to where the lifelines were tied. John and you got back to unfurling the sails.

Below, the black hole released another wave of heat and light, jolting the ship. John fell down onto the deck, but you were not so lucky. Both you and Mr Arrow were flung out into space, nothing but your lifelines keeping you tethered to the ship. Your rope jerked painfully tight around your waist, and you started pulling yourself in until you were close enough to grab the outside of the ship.

You pressed your face against the wood, clinging onto the railing with both arms. Suddenly, you felt your lifeline go slack. You could hear someone yelling, but you didn’t let go of the ship and kept your face pressed into the wood.

“Captain!” Dr Doppler yelled, “The last wave! Here it comes!”

“Hold onto your lifelines, gents!” she shouted, “It’s going to be a bumpy ride!”

It was getting colder and darker and harder to hold on, and you guessed that you were going into the black hole. Your hands were slippery with sweat, and you prayed that you would be able to hold on long enough. You didn’t dare try to pull yourself back onto the ship.

Then everything was heat and light and roaring sound, and you were riding the wave out of the dark abyss and back to safety. The heat was getting less, and you finally opened your eyes to see that you were back in open space, where you were safe. Your arms were turning to jelly, but even if you wanted to let go you couldn’t. There was cheering on board, and you thought you could just make out some of the crew’s heads and raised arms.

“Well,” said Captain Amelia’s voice, “I must congratulate you Mr Silver. Your cabin boy did a bang-up job with those lifelines! All hands accounted for, Mr Arrow?”

Silence.

“Mr Arrow?”

“I’m afraid Mr Arrow has been lost.” You couldn’t see the deck, but Scroop’s voice was unmistakable. “His lifeline was not secured. I’m afraid that (Y/N)’s too, has come loose.”

“No, I checked them all!” Jim shouted, then there were footsteps. “I… I did! I checked them all. They were secure, I swear!”

“I’m here!” you yelled as loudly as you could. “I’m alive, I’m just hanging off the side!”

“(Y/N)?”

“Jim! Someone help me, I can’t get up!” There were more footsteps, then Jim’s face appeared over the side of the ship. He grabbed your arms, pulling you up over the side and onto the deck. You steadied yourself against him, your legs shaking. He wrapped his arms around you, holding you against his chest.

“Oh God,” he whispered, “you’re ok.”

“I’m ok, I’m ok.” Your voice shook, and you tried to take deep breaths but you were still quaking and there was a lump in your throat and before you could do anything about it, you were crying. Jim didn’t say anything, just stroked your hair and kept holding you.

“Mr Arrow…” Captain Amelia coughed, then continued, “Mr Arrow was a fine spacer. Finer than most of us could ever hope to be. But he knew the risks, as do we all. Resume your posts, we carry on.”

After a few more seconds, you pulled yourself together and disentangled yourself from Jim’s embrace, wiping your face one of your sleeves. You glanced quickly around the ship, where all the crew were rushing back to their positions.

“Are you…?”

“I’m fine,” you sniffed, offering him a smile. He nodded, and there was an awkward pause before you said, “I should really get back to...”

“Yeah,” he nodded, clearly grateful for a way out of the situation. “I should go to.”

“See you later, I guess.”

“Yeah.”

Chapter Four

[insomniacaesthetic]

| 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 | Severus Snape (Prequel)

Requested Anonymously

Pairing: Professor!Snape x Former Student!Reader (Reader is also a muggleborn)

Request: Professor Snape has become infatuated with a young woman who works at a bookshop in Hogsmeade. He will make any excuse to travel to the small town in order to see her. Unbeknownst to him, she returns his affections. They are oblivious to the other’s feelings, thinking that there is no way their affection can be returned. Eventually, Severus decides to take the plunge and ask her on a date over winter break. She says yes and they spend their date in Hogsmeade and share their first kiss while the snow falls around them.

Warnings/Contents: Really fluffy, Slow burn, few book references 😩

Category: Fluff

Word Count: 6.1K

Song: Skinny Love by Bon Iver

A/N: So this request sounded like A LOT like how Severus met reader in My Dream Girl, so I decided to write this as a prequel.

You don’t have to read either before the other or read the other at all. It’s just a continuation as I know how much y’all loved my dream girl.

F/F = favorite flower.

.・゜゜・　　・゜゜・．

Snowstorms always seemed endless in the winter months. Most of your days were spent locked up indoors trying to stay warm, while the weather raged on outside. That was the case today as well. Snowing nonstop. Which meant the shop was even more deserted than usual. Which isn’t saying much, most of the customers were students of Hogwarts. They however, were all on Christmas break.

Since it was so dead, your boss had gone home and left you with the responsibility of locking up the shop at the end of your shift. It was becoming more and more common that you were left alone at the store. You didn’t mind though. Your boss was an older man and he had difficulty standing for long periods of time, so he didn’t do much around the store anyways. Besides, when you were alone you were able to put on music and complete your work in peace.

You had just dragged out a box from the back of the shop and were unboxing and shelving new copies of Voyages with Vampires by a man named Gildeory Lockhart. The pompous looking wizard flashing a smile at you from his photo on the back as you lined up the books on one of the shelves. Your boss had gotten in a shipment of almost every book the Lockhart man had ever written since it was as he said, “Bound to fly off the shelves!”

Of course, they almost never did but you weren’t paid to argue. After you finished with the books, you restocked some of the miscellaneous stuff the shop carried up by the register. Crystal phials, bottles of ink, and some spare quills. You glanced up at the clock once finished and sighed when you realized only two hours had passed.

You tried busying yourself with sweeping the already clean floors, reorganizing the book display for the hundredth time, and even unrolling and rerolling the scrolls of parchment for sale. Few customers sprinkled in here and there, but they never stayed for long. Mostly stopping in to grab one or two items and leaving without much more than a ‘hello’.

Having finally run out of things to do, you plopped yourself down on the stool behind the register and propped open a random book to try and pass the time. It was actually quite interesting. You found yourself becoming absorbed into the story. Flipping through pages eagerly awaiting what was going to happen next. It had you on the edge of your seat. You were nearing the end of a paragraph when someone cleared their throat.

It startled you so much, you dropped the book. Hopping off your stool, you bent down to retrieve it. “I’ll be with you one second!” You called up to the awaiting customer. You snatched up the book, but as you went to stand up straight again, you bumped your head on the counter.

“Shit, Ow.” Rubbing where your head was struck, you blushed and set the book on the counter. “Sorry about that. How can I help…you?” The words faded into a whisper. Standing before you was one of your former professors.

“I see you still haven’t managed to expel such language from your vocabulary Miss L/N.”

“Professor Snape I-” Your cheeks reddened further. “What are you doing here?”

His eyebrow raised in amusement as he glanced down at the items strewn out on the counter before you. A couple of corked glass phials and a quill. Realization struck you and you suddenly felt very silly.

“Oh of course! My apologies.” You entered in the prices for the items onto your register, all while trying to hide your face from his scrutinizing stare. “12 sickles please.”

As Snape rummaged around in his pocket, you started rolling the glass items in paper and placing them in the awaiting brown bag. When you passed over the bag, he dropped several of the coins into your hand. His fingers lightly brushing against your skin as he did so.

“Are you really reading that rubbish?” Snape gestured to the abandoned copy of Wanderings with Werewolves you had been so engrossed in.

“What? It’s actually pretty good! Plus, I had nothing else to do or read.” You chewed on your bottom lip nervously.

“Is this not a bookstore?” He smirked. “Simply choose something else.”

“I’ve already read everything here for the most part. Two years of free time really adds up Professor.”

“I see.” With that, he was out of the store before you could even utter a goodbye. The rest of your shift carried on as usual afterwards, but you did have a bit more of a spring in your step following the encounter with the man who had been your favorite professor. He looked so different now. It had only been two years since you last saw him, but he seemed to have changed somehow. You couldn’t quite put a finger on it, though whenever you tried picturing his face, your heart beat a little bit faster. The rest of your shift breezed by after that.

Days went by and with each one you hoped that Snape would stop by the shop again. Unfortunately, that didn’t end up happening. It was already the new year which meant students would be coming back soon and the shop should liven up. The first Hogsmeade visit after holiday break was always your favorite back when you were in school. Especially after your parents, who were both muggles, figured out how to get ahold of some galleons for you. Everyone raced down to the village with money burning holes in their pockets. Rushing the shops to buy anything you could have ever wanted.

That’s why your boss had been ordering lots of new stuff to fill the shelves. He was preparing for the after Christmas rush, which inevitably never really came for this type of store. Sure, it sold a few odd items or supplies some students might be interested in, but nothing they would be banging down the door for. Unless of course they wanted to own all of Lockhart’s works.

Speaking of Lockhart, you had spent the majority of your days reading through his books. Slowly you grew tired of them. It was true what Snape had said, they were rubbish. They also didn’t seem very believable anymore. But there was nothing else to read, so that’s what occupied most of your afternoons.

On one particular evening, only a few minutes before the shop was supposed to close, you were stacking random copies of books to see how high you could get it without it falling over. There hadn’t been a customer in hours so the moment it hit 9:00 pm you planned on locking up and running home to hide under a thousand blankets.

The chiming of a bell from the shop door distracted you from placing the crowning jewel on your tower. Who could possibly need something this late at night? You stepped out from behind the counter and there stood a man brushing snow off his black trench coat.

“Professor Snape! H-How can I help you?”

He turned around to face you. His mouth was covered by a series of scarves which he pulled off and draped over his arms. It must have started snowing again and pretty heavily from the amount of snowflakes that adorned his hair. “It’s cold in here.” He stepped away from the welcome mat and over to the section of the store that had large mason jars. He examined them quietly before pulling one off the shelf.

“Oh, yea sorry about that. I uhm always put out the fire right before I close up. Would you like some warm tea? Mr. Glover has a kettle in the back. It’ll only take a few moments.”

Snape stood by the front counter and laid out his few items on it. “No thanks. Just this.”

You rushed over to behind the register to ring him up. “Just one galleon please.”

Snape handed you the coin and you started to bag his items, but he stopped you. “No need. I’m going to use the jar in a few moments.”

“Alright. Anything else today Professor?”

Snape stood silent for a few moments, fiddling with the lid of the jar. There was a part of him that didn’t want to leave. He kept telling himself it was because he didn’t want to return to the cold, but it wasn’t much warmer inside either. It had just been a while since he had been in the company of someone who didn’t seem to loathe him. He glanced over at your book tower and smirked. “I see you’ve found better use for Lockhart’s books.”

You laughed and Snape was pleased he had managed to evoke such a reaction. Most people didn’t enjoy his sense of humor. “Yes well they got a bit repetitive. Was too predictable for my taste, you know?”

“No. I haven’t read them. It’s hard enough having to work at the same place as him, I’d prefer for my down time to remain Lockhart free.” He rolled his eyes and you bit back another laugh.

“I forgot. He’s working at the castle this year isn’t he. Defense against the dark arts right?”

“Unfortunately so.” Snape murmured.

You knew the topic was a bit touchy for him. Snape had always wanted to be the defense teacher, but you loved his potions class and couldn’t see anyone else teaching it as well as he had. “I bet that’ll be disastrous.”

“Already has been.” Snape glanced at the clock hanging on the wall by the entrance. “So, what type of books do you like then?”

It was a good question. Not something you were expecting, and it took you a moment to come up with an answer. “I guess I like something where the unexpected happens. Relatable and realistic characters. The hero shouldn’t always win.” You glanced up at Snape and he was staring at you intently, hanging onto your every word. “Sorry if that didn’t make any sense.”

“No, it made sense.”

“But?”

Snape looked to the clock again. “I really must be going. Besides I’ve kept you here past closing. Thank you for the jars Miss L/N.” and he was once again out the door leaving you confused and curious. You never really gotten to talk with him like that before. Hell, you didn’t get to talk to anyone anymore. The exchange was a nice change in your usual routine, and you found yourself smiling the entire walk back to your home. Replaying the conversation in your head over and over.

The next day was spent dusting the tops of the shelving that Mr. Glover couldn’t reach. The few days when he was actually present in the store were pleasant ones. He had lots of stories from his time as a curse breaker and they were far more interesting than anything in any book you had ever read. You stepped off the step stool and dusted off your hands when he told you to take a break.

Breaks seemed a bit redundant at the shop. Usually, you would sit in the back room and pick at some leftovers or sip on a cup of tea for a few minutes before Mr. Glover inevitably called you out to help him with something. You were eating a lunch consisting of pasta and reading over the daily prophet when your name was called.

“Y/N.” The raspy voice of your boss drew your eyes away from the newspaper. “There’s an older gentlemen in the shop askin for ya.”

An older gentlemen? You folded up the paper and got to your feet. Looking from the doorway, you saw Snape drumming his fingers on the counter while staring off into the distance. You immediately stood up straight, smoothed down the fabric of your dress, and walked out from the backroom.

“Professor. What brings you in today?” You gave him your best smile but of course he didn’t return it.

Snape took in a deep breath. When he first walked into the shop and didn’t see you, he thought about retreating back to the castle. He had spent the entirety of the walk down to the little bookstore practicing what he was going to say but now that he was here, it all went out the window.

“Afternoon Miss L/N.” He nodded curtly and you returned it. “I came in because I needed.... ink bottles.”

The smile on your face faltered slightly. That’s what he interrupted your lunch for?

“Uh sure they’re next to you.”

Sure enough, there they were right next to his hands. Snape fumbled with a few of the bottles and slid them across the counter. Internally he was beating himself up. Get it together Severus.

“Is that all today, sir?”

Snape winced slightly at your tone. Normally it was light and playful, but now it just felt distant. “No actually. I wanted to give you this.” He reached into his coat and pulled a package wrapped in an old copy of the daily prophet, tied close with a piece of twine.

“For me?” You gaped at him. He responded with a brief nod. You wasted no time tearing into the present. Curious as to what the brooding potions master could possibly gift you. Your hands made contact with the leather surface of a beautiful book. Blue leather decorated with swirling patterns of gold. You tore the paper away from the spine and read aloud the title, “Jane Eyre.”

“Have you read it before?” He stuffed his hands into his pockets. He was watching your every reaction and he couldn’t quite decipher your feelings just yet.

“Not I haven’t. Although I’m not a huge classic literature fan.” You couldn’t stop staring at the book. It was clearly well loved since the spine had been cracked and some of the gold on the cover had faded. You went to smile at Snape, but he looked a bit saddened. “I’ll still give it a read. Although it might take me ages and I can’t guarantee I’ll understand it too much. This is quite a long read.”

Snape perked up. “I’m sure you’ll manage. Let me know if you like it.”

You narrowed your eyes playfully. “This isn’t you regifting me something you got for Christmas is it?”

“Actually, it’s from my personal collection” Snape had spent all last night looking through his shelves. He hadn’t gone in with the intention of gifting you a book, merely to recommend one but after stumbling across the copy of Jane Eyre, he knew he had to give it to you. Especially after you talked about your fondness for the unconventional characters.

Your cheeks burned. This felt like such a thoughtful gift, and you couldn’t think of the right words to respond. “Are you sure you wanna give me something like this? I’m not even sure if it’s my thing.”

“More of a Lockhart fan?”

“No! I just…” Words seemed to have escaped you.

“Just give it a chance. There might be something in there that you like.”

“Thank you Professor.” You beamed up at him which caused Snape to cough awkwardly. He wasn’t expecting such a smile and it caught him a little off guard.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it.” He backed away from the counter and started towards the door.

“Professor?” You called after him. He spun around slowly. “Yes?”

“You forgot your ink bottles!”

Snape’s cheeks flushed pink. “Oh yes, of course.” He walked back over and took the bag then attempted to retreat again.

“Uh Professor?” He froze. What now?

“You forgot to pay too.”

Snape stopped by almost daily after giving you the book. Sometimes he would pretend to browse around for a while before he approached you. You would always ask him how you could help him and what he needed from the shop, and he would always widen his eyes and grab the nearest thing off the shelf and say, “just ran out of these actually!”

You tried not to call him out on his obvious lies but when he came into the shop three days in a row for ink bottles and new quills, it was just too tempting.

“Didn’t you buy some of those yesterday?” You smirked.

“What’s it to you, silly girl?”

“It’s just that’s two days in a row you’ve managed to empty over six bottles of ink. What are you up there creating?” You folded your arms, and Snape began to rub the back of his neck. You had started to notice he did this whenever he was caught in a lie.

“Nothing. I just keep running out. Students knock them over.” He waved his hands dismissively, but a bit of color dusted his cheeks.

“Of course. That’ll be 7 sickles. Anything else today?”

“How’s the book coming along?”

You took in a sharp breath. You had only read maybe the first few pages and started to lose interest. Classic literature really wasn’t your favorite and as much as you wanted to like it since it seemed to mean so much to him, you found yourself putting the book down minutes after picking it up. “I’ll be honest, I haven’t read much of it yet. Like I said I’m not a classic literature fan”

Snape frowned but leaned forward over the counter. He was so close to you now. You could see every line and imperfection on him. The smell of leather and rosemary invading your senses. His onyx eyes searched yours for a bit while your heart felt like it had stopped beating.

“I really think you’d like it. If you give it a chance that is. It’s not perfect, but don’t you like the perfectly imperfect, Miss L/N?”

“Y-Yes I do.”

“Till tomorrow then.”

That night was spent absorbed in the pages of Jane Eyre. At first, you struggled to see why Snape would suggest to you such a book, but as the story progressed it became increasingly clear. The perfectly imperfect that he had been talking about. By the time morning came, you had finished over half of the book. You couldn’t wait to see him today. To tell him how much you were loving it. To hopefully witness that sparkle in his eyes whenever he discussed something he was proud of or found amusing.

Snape didn’t show his face until about an hour from closing. You had already given up hope that he would come, so when you turned around to step off the step stool you had been using to stock the top shelf and saw him next to you, you nearly fell over. Thankfully, he was there to help steady you.

“I guess I’ve arrived at the perfect moment.” His touched lingered on your shoulders. Despite how cold it was outside, his hands were warm. You desperately wished to hold them in your own.

“Not really Professor. I’ve got to finish stocking so I can go home on time.” You brushed him off and fetched the other stack of books and finished placing them on the shelves.

“Perhaps I could assist you? So we could talk.” He handed you some books which you added onto the shelf.

“Talk about what?”

“The book. If you’ve given it a read.” Snape had pulled out his wand behind his back and used it to make the remaining books fill the shelves on their own.

“I have. You were right. There is something in it I like.” You stepped off the stool again, with Snape offering you his hand to help you down.

“And what is that?”

“Edward Rochester. I always have a soft spot for a well written Byronic hero.”

Snape mustered a half smile. He was pleased to hear you say such a thing. “I knew you would.”

Both of you spent the next hour discussing things. From books and potions to Snape’s clear disdain for Lockhart. At first, Snape stood idly by while you tidied around the shop, but as he got really passionate about his rant he started absentmindedly helping out. Sweeping the floors, rerolling parchment, or wiping down surfaces. Snape used magic for most of the stuff.

“Babbling fool. I’m constantly cleaning up his messes. I took great pleasure in launching him across the room.”

“Things sound tough at the castle this year.” You dropped the galleons back into the register having finished counting them.

“You have no idea.” He sighed and you laughed. He loved that laugh. Though Snape didn’t have the courage to say it, there was one thing that was making this year a bit more tolerable. That would be his constant visits down to Hogsmeade. The conversations weren’t anything spectacular, but it was nice to have someone to speak to that had nothing to do with the Potter boy. Someone to vent to. A friend almost.

Were you his friend?

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud yawn coming from you. It was a quarter till ten. You had ended up staying 45 minutes past closing. He knew you would need to leave soon and that he would see you again tomorrow. But it didn’t lessen the ache in his heart.

“I’ll finish the rest in the morning before I open. Thank you for your help Professor!” You set down the boxes you had pulled from the back and headed over to the fireplace to make sure it had completely extinguished.

“You can call me Severus. I’m not your professor anymore after all.” Snape pulled on his gloves and scarf. Keeping his back to you so you couldn’t see him blushing.

“Alright then. Have a good night, Severus.”

Merlin the name sounded so lovely when you said it. He longed to stay in this bookshop with you forever. Discussing anything as long as it meant he could stay in the presence of someone who genuinely enjoyed his company. At least he hoped you did.

“You too Miss L/N.” He nodded curtly and opened the wooden door to leave.

“Y/N.” You corrected him.

He merely nodded again and left the shop. You went to the backroom to grab your bag, stuffing the copy of Jane Eyre in it, and took your leave. Mumbling the word “Severus” under your breath every so often. You couldn’t explain how the name made you feel, but the butterflies in your stomach told you everything you needed to know. You had developed a crush.

Winter turned into spring and spring turned into summer. You and Severus had grown quite close. He didn’t visit every day, but on the days he did, he would stay at the shop for hours. Mr. Glover joked that he should hire the man since he spent most of his time there. Severus of course turned red at his words.

He also no longer pretended to come in just to buy things. But you noticed during the term he would come down frequently because “Minerva needed this” or “Albus requested one of these.” Almost as if he was volunteering to run down to the village.

You had finished Jane Eyre and when you tried to return the copy, Severus insisted you keep it. You refused at first but came to a compromise when you suggested he read one of your favorite books. He ended up loving your recommendation and you both just went back and forth. Each week you switched off, you gave him a copy of 1984 and he gave you a copy of Moby Dick.

Severus was really passionate about it. He would have a notebook where he made notes on what he read. He would read them off and you would discuss theories or your favorite characters. Every so often the subject would stray away from books, and you would discuss your week. On rare occasions the conversation turned personal. Those ones were your favorite. Getting a glimpse at the intimidating man’s personal thoughts and feelings. You wanted to get to know him better, but he had walls up that seemed impossible to tear down.

You had been quite open with him. Over the last few months, he learned your favorite foods and your favorite flower. He even brought you a potted F/F. Boasting about how he grew it himself. It was through interactions like this you were able to learn about him. He loved to garden and hoped to one day have his own greenhouse.

“I’d like to live in a place with a big kitchen, but somewhere away from Hogsmeade.”

“Why’s that?” He was sat with you in the backroom enjoying the cup of tea you poured him.

“Not sure. I’ve done everything. Seen everything. Just want a change of pace I guess.” You stirred your tea absentmindedly. Working in a bookstore hadn’t been your first career choice, but it was better than nothing.

“I don’t want you to leave.” Severus whispered.

“What was that?” You leaned forward, turning your head so you could hear him better.

Severus eyes widened and he faltered for a moment. “I said look at those leaves. Autumn is almost over.”

You joined him in looking out the window. Only a few trees still had their leaves now. It would only be a matter of time before winter was upon you once again. You and Severus had been friends now for almost a year. You turned back to him and gave him one of those bright smiles that caused his breath to hitch.

“So, what book did you bring for me this time Sev?”

“Pride and Prejudice.”

-=-=-

You were actually looking forward to Christmas break this year. Normally it would be the bane of your existence. Spending hours locked up in a bookstore by yourself with only customers to talk to, but this year would be different. Severus had already promised to come visit you once a day throughout the entire break. You told him you would hold him to his promise and that if he broke it, you would never share your lunches with him ever again.

The first day of break he came into the shop while you were decorating and caught you singing and dancing to Christmas songs. He stayed silent by the entrance and just watched you with a smile plastered on his face. When you caught him staring, you were so embarrassed you started throwing tinsel and ornaments at him.

“What’s that for?” He rubbed his shoulder where a golden ball had bounced off him.

“You were judging my dancing.” You backed away from the now fully decorated tree and admired your handiwork.

“You’re not a very good one.” He smirked.

“Have you come in just to insult me today Severus?”

“No actually I-” He paused and looked around the store. There were a customer finishing up a purchase at the front with the owner and one lingering around the used book section. “Are you here till closing tonight?”

“I always am.” You gave a halfhearted smile and made your way over to the register to ask Mr. Glover for your break, that way you could speak to Severus in private.

“Oh.”

He seemed disappointed. You couldn’t tell why. Severus had never asked you about your plans for the rest of the day since he knew it usually consisted of work. You both only spent time together at the bookstore so there had never been a reason to.

Mr. Glover was finishing up with a customer and you didn’t wish to interrupt him, so you turned back around to face Severus. “Why is there something you needed?”

“It doesn’t matter. Never mind.” His hands massaged the nape of his neck, and you immediately knew he was lying.

“No tell me!” You nibbled on your lower lip nervously. You hoped you weren’t reading into his actions too much, but it sounded like he wanted to see you after work.

“I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to the three broomsticks for a drink. After all I never see you outside this place.”

“Sev I would love to, but I work until-”

“No ya don’t.” Interrupted Mr. Glover. He stepped around from the register and stood next to you. He took your hand in his and smiled warmly. “Take the rest of the night off.”

“But Sir-”

“No buts. I wanted to close up early today anyways. ‘ve got Christmas shoppin’ to do. You two go have fun.” He squeezed your hand gently before walking over to the door and flipping the open sign over so “CLOSED” was displayed.

“Well, if that drink is still on the table, I’d love to get one with you.”

Severus nodded and you walked to the back to grab your stuff. He started to stress a bit. He didn’t expect to get to this point and now that he was here he didn’t know what to do. You came out from the back with your bag clutched in your hands, a knitted hat covered your hair and a warm jacket wrapped around you.

“Ready?” You stood next to him and almost grabbed his hand.

“After you.” He held open the door and with a wave goodbye to the old man, you stepped out into the snowy village of Hogsmeade and down towards the three broomsticks.

“I haven’t been out in ages. Thank you for inviting me Sev!”

“Of course.” You walked in comfortable silence side by side down the snow laden path. Severus desperately wanted to reach out and take your hand in his own. Every once in a while yours would accidentally brush against his and it sent sparks through his whole body. He doubted you would ever feel the same though, so he kept his hands to himself.

When you approached the three broomsticks, Severus held open the door for you once again and you smiled as you slipped past him. The place was packed. There were no free tables, and it was really noisy inside. It wasn’t how you pictured an evening with Severus going. Severus stood behind you, his chest right against your back, as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “Perhaps we should go somewhere else.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You turned around and without thinking, held onto his hand so he could escort you out of the crowded building. Outside again, you still held onto him. He didn’t seem bothered by it and led you down past other buildings until you ended up in a small clearing.

Snowcapped trees surrounded a frozen lake where some people were skating. You walked hand in hand till you reached an old wooden bench which you both sat down on after Severus brushed off the snow. “Sorry the three broomsticks didn’t work out.” He frowned.

“It’s alright.” You stared down at your hands in your lap. It had never felt so difficult to come up with words. Normally conversations flowed freely between you two but now it felt different. A small shiver ran through you, so you pulled your jacket tighter. Severus saw this and pulled one of the scarves from his neck and laid it over yours. It smelled strongly of him.

“Thanks.” You blushed but thankfully he wouldn’t be able to see it.

“Severus I-”

“Y/N-”

You both spoke at the same time. Your blush deepened and you had to turn the other direction to avoid his eyes. “You first.” You whispered.

“Oh, um well I just wanted to ask you your Christmas plans is all.”

“I’m not sure yet. Normally I would visit family. But they're traveling this year. I think I'll have some hot chocolate and watch the snow fall. Sounds like it could be quite peaceful. What about you?”

“About the same.”

After a while of sitting in awkward silence, you pulled out from your bag the book you had been reading at Sev’s recommendation, hoping it would give you something to discuss. Severus saw and he offered to read it to you. You immediately agreed and passed him over the book. You watched the ice skaters in front of you as Severus read from To Kill a Mockingbird.

“Sev, if it’s okay with you… could I hold your hands? They’re usually warm.” Your hands were frozen and despite shoving them in the confines of your jacket, they hadn’t warmed up.

He didn’t say anything but held out one of his large hands, the other now gripping the copy of the book so tight his knuckles paled. You placed yours on top of his. He encased them and you soon felt the heat of his hand transfer to yours.

You ended up scooting closer to him on the bench so now your shoulders were pressed up next to each other as well. He returned to the pages and began reading again. His deep voice lulling you into a trance. You were so relaxed your head fell against his shoulder and closed your eyes.

You awoke to Severus lightly nudging you. “Y/N. It’s starting to snow. We should go inside somewhere.”

You got to your feet and joined him in walking away from the lake. He was a bit further ahead of you since his strides were much longer than yours. It was the perfect opportunity to catch him off guard.

Severus trudged through the snow back towards the village. He had passed a large tree when a something wet and cold hit him square in the back. He spun on his heel and saw you bent over forming another snowball.

“Oh no you don’t” He chuckled and bent over to create his own. He threw one at you and it missed you just barely.

“Nice try Sevy!” You tossed another at him, and it got him in the knees.

The snowball fight continued for a while till your hands started to feel numb. However, you didn’t plan on admitting defeat so easily. Severus threw a rather large clump of snow at you, and it crashed into your cheek. His eyes widened and he ran over to you.

“Are you alright?” He panicked. Grabbing your chin so he could observe where it hit you. While he was paying attention to your face, you were able to smash a bit of snow into his. He closed his eyes briefly and smirked, “Oh you insufferable girl. You’ll regret that”

You laughed and started to run away from him. It didn’t take long for him to catch up to you and back you against a nearby tree. Each of you panting from the difficult task of running in deep snow. He held your hands and brought them up to his mouth and blew warm air on them.

Snow was falling around you, snowflakes dotting his black suede jacket and hair. He gazed into your E/C eyes. He had that sparkle in his own that you loved so much. You stared at his thin parted lips, and without hesitation, stood on your tip toes to kiss him. When you pulled away, Severus stared at you in shock.

“Sev?” You pressed a tentative kiss to his cheek, but before you could back away, he tugged you closer by your waist and connected his lips to yours. You wrapped your arms around his neck and returned the kiss just as passionately. The relief that your attraction was mutual flowed through you. Your entire body felt hot despite being out in freezing temperatures. His hands wandered to your lower back as his tongue worked its way into your mouth. All the feelings you had held back for the past year coming through the kiss.

Your lips separated from his. He leaned his forehead against yours and hummed appreciatively. “I’ve wanted to do that for what feels like forever.” He smiled and tucked a piece of hair that had escaped your hat behind your ear. “I wish I had the courage to do it sooner.”

He bent down and pressed a kiss to your temple. “Come. Let’s get inside before you catch a cold.” He held you close to him, an arm snaked around your waist, as you walked the path back to Hogsmeade. “How would you feel about spending Christmas with me this year Y/N?”

“I think that would make me completely, and perfectly, and incandescently happy, Severus.”

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁

Click here for My Dream Girl, the 'sequel' to this story.

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take the dive - sugawara koushi x milf!reader

tags/warnings: smut, 18+ ONLY! slight dubcon, infidelity, post timeskip (suga teaches reader’s kids). overstimulation and slight dumbification, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public (in an empty classroom)

a/n: this is my piece for @ultimate-astridwriting’s milf fuckers collab, which you can find here!! thank you for hosting this astrid, and thank u to everyone in the server for ur love and support as i worked on this <33. title cred: take the dive by jonghyun

wc: 3.9k

Amidst a faculty full of stuffy old dinosaurs and suits, Sugawara Koushi is a breath of fresh air. He’s a welcome distraction, a pretty face to focus on at dull PTA meetings and assemblies. And you knew that you weren’t the only one making heart eyes at him. Everywhere that he went, heads turned, and moms whispered. At the bus stop, on the sidelines of sports matches, in the waiting rooms outside dance classes.

It was just that, though -- just whispers. Little knowing glances and nudged shoulders, dreamy sighs and brief sinful indulgences. Nothing more than a brief escape from the monotony of your everyday lives. You’d lose yourselves in the fantasy for a few seconds, and then pull your heads down from the clouds and plant your feet on solid ground. You enjoyed your gossip with the other moms, and then you returned home, to your husband and children. To your family.

You love them, of course. Your children are your world, and your husband is a good man. He’s a good man, and that’s what made it so hard. He treats you well, keeps his words soft and never once put his hands on you. 

He may be good, but, God, was he boring. You can’t remember the last time that he’d even kissed you, let alone fucked you. He came home later and later each night, too tired from work to do anything but silently scarf down his dinner and plant himself on the couch in front of the television. He dragged himself into bed hours after you did. He tried to be quiet, he really did, but he woke you up every single night with his stomping and shuffling. When you snuggled closer to him, he pushed you off. My back hurts too bad, he’d say, voice tinged with regret. Remind me to book another appointment with the chiropractor. 

It was always some excuse or another. 

So, really, you couldn’t blame yourself for your wandering eye. You weren’t going to act on it, of course -- you weren’t a cheater -- but the young teacher was something to occupy yourself with. A pretty face to fill your thoughts as you wrangled your horde of screaming kids from swim lessons to dance practice to art classes. A pretty, pretty body to imagine as you fucked yourself with your fingers, teeth sinking into your bottom lip to muffle your moans. You couldn’t help but imagine that it was him, lithe body leaning over yours. No complaints of aching backs and sore muscles, none of the complications that came with age. 

You’d leave your husband catatonic on the couch, put the kids to sleep, and then go dream of their hot teacher. You should’ve been more ashamed, but there was a part of you that loved the thrill of it. You flushed whenever you saw Mr. Sugawara the next morning, memories of your illicit thoughts filling your mind, but it also made your body feel electric. 

Of course there was a part of you that longed to throw caution to the wind and jump the young man, but your conscience was much stronger than your weak, lustful thoughts. You were happy with the way things were now. As dull as your husband was, and as insufferable as the children could sometimes be, you were happy. 

This was all you had ever wanted. A house in the suburbs, a husband with a well-paying job, three kids and a dog. You’re living the fucking dream. You’re happy, you tell yourself.

So why the fuck are you so unsatisfied?

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

With a deep breath, you stare down the heavy glass doors at the school’s entrance. You want nothing more than to find the idiot architect who designed this building, and strangle him for installing pull doors. Your arms are already sore from carrying the giant tray of brownies from your car to the front of the school, and you worry that if you put the treats down to open the door, you wouldn’t be able to lift them up again. A quick glance at your watch tells you that you have two minutes left to reach the gym where the bake sale is being held. The PTA president is notorious for hating latecomers, and you weren’t in the mood to get your head bit off.

You’re debating doing some gymnastics and using your foot to grab the handle, when you notice footsteps approaching from behind you. You open your mouth to ask for help, but they beat you to it. “Let me get the door,” says their syrupy, melodic voice.

Their familiar voice.

Your body practically freezes as a strong arm reaches over your shoulder. Long fingers – fingers that you’ve fantasized about too many times to count – twist the handle and push it open easily. You don’t know how you didn’t notice him approaching sooner, but now that he’s here, your senses are in overdrive. The sweet scent of his cologne, the sound of his breath, the warmth of his body – it’s all too much, and it makes your knees feel weak.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you say, voice coming out much breathier than you intended. This must be some kind of Pavlovian response from all your fantasizing, because there is no reason for your stomach to be twisting right now. “Thank you.”

He grins sheepishly and steps away, and you hate the way that your body screams at you to lean into him. “It’s no problem. Is that for the bake sale? Here, let me carry it for you.”

You try to protest, but there’s really no point. His long fingers are already pushing yours to the sides, and you swear you’ve been electrified as he pulls the tray out of your hands. It’s a shame, really, that he’s wearing a button-down. The sleeves are rolled up to his forearms, at least, but you would’ve loved to see his biceps flex as he carried that tray…

What am I doing? You dig your nails into your palm to snap yourself out of your thoughts, but it’s hard to stay lucid when he’s so beautiful. He carries the brownies with ease, using just one arm to support their weight as the other holds the door open for you. It should make you upset, that you’re so weak in comparison to him, but the thought just makes you feel even more breathless. He’s so strong, so young, and so unlike your husband.

“Thank you,” you say again as he steps into the building behind you. You reach for the tray, but he waves you off.

“Nonsense. I’ll walk you to the gym.”

“Oh, really, you don’t have to—”

“I insist. Anything for my favorite mom.”

His…favorite? His words leave you too stupefied to protest any further, and he takes your silence as compliance. Your body automatically follows in his footsteps as he paces down the hallways.

He looks over at you and smiles comfortingly. It lights up his entire face, but does little to ease your turbulent thoughts.

Your mind is still fixated on his words as you step onto the squeaky wood flooring of the gymnasium. Sugawara calmly walks over to the PTA president, who looks like she’s about to rip her hair out. She’s surrounded by a gaggle of other moms, all jabbering away with concern painted across their faces.

“Is something wrong, ladies?” he asks. His voice snaps them all out of their conversation, and their eyes widen as they take him in.

“Yes,” says the PTA president scornfully. “We were supposed to have the brownies here already! The sale starts in ten minutes, and if this keeps up, I won’t have enough time to inventory everything and make it presentable, and –”

“I have the brownies,” you cut in, resisting the urge to roll your eyes.

She blanches, and looks from you to the tray in Sugawara’s arms. An oh is all she can muster before grabbing the brownies and rushing off.

“Is everything okay?” one of the other moms asks, her voice laced with fake sweetness. “Oh, and you look so tired, dear. If you couldn’t manage your part, you should’ve just said so!”

“It would’ve been no trouble,” another woman says. “I’d have had no trouble whipping up a tray for you! Everyone always does love my baking.”

You grit your teeth and resist the urge to snap at them. It’s always like this – the other moms seem so in tune with their lives of domestic bliss, playing games of politics and constantly competing to be the best. Try as you might, you just can’t satisfy yourself with a life like theirs.

The material of Sugawara’s shirt brushes against you, and you start. He doesn’t pull away as you flinch, instead gently resting his hand on the small of your back. “Sorry to interrupt, but can I steal her away? Mrs. (L/N), I have your son’s science fair project sitting in my classroom. He keeps forgetting to bring it home. Would you like to go collect it now?”

You nod, relieved at the excuse to escape these women and their sickening artificial sweetness. Sugawara gently guides you with the hand on your back. You can’t help but internally smirk at the thinly-veiled jealousy on the faces of the other mothers.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.  

“This is why you’re my favorite,” Sugawara says, once you’re safely out of earshot. “All these PTA moms are so fake. But you’re not like that, are you?”

You nod, still a bit convinced that this is all a dream. He doesn’t remove his hand from your back as you walk down the hallways, and only pulls away when you reach the door to his classroom. He fishes through his pocket and pulls out a ring of keys, before insert one into the knob and pushing the door open. He gestures for you to enter first, and so you do, blinking at the harsh sudden brightness of the automatic lights.

You awkwardly glance around the room. You’ve been here plenty of times before, but that was all during the daytime, when it was packed full of energetic children. It feels…strange, to be alone in a classroom as an adult. Or, well, alone, except for the stupidly attractive teacher that you’ve been lusting over.

“Where’s the project?” you ask, trying to diffuse some of the tension building in your stomach. “I should head home soon.”

Sugawara leans his back against the door and cocks his head. “You know, I know what you say about me.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb.” His eyes rove across your body, lingering on your chest for far longer than they should. “I’m not deaf, you know. I hear all the things you say about me. You’re just like all the other moms.” He pushes off the door, stalking closer to you. You instinctively take a step back. “Only difference is, you might actually have the guts to do something about it.”

Your heart thuds in your chest, so hard that you think your ribs might bruise. “I…I don’t know what you’re talking about, Mr. Sugawara. I-”

You take another step back, and another, and suddenly your back collides with concrete. Your body jolts, and you yelp at the sudden pain.

Sugawara leans closer. One of his hands braces against the board behind your head, and the other one comes up to cradle your face. His long fingers hook under your chin and press, forcing you to tilt your head up and meet his gaze. His thumb brushes against your lip, and you can’t deny how the sensation makes your body feel like jelly.

Every rational thought in your mind is screaming at you to run, to leave, to get away from him and go back to your husband, but God, it’s been so long since you’ve felt like this. It’s been so long since someone’s made your heart race and your breaths quicken, since someone’s made you blush like a schoolgirl over a simple touch.

“What was that you said?” he asks, his voice dripping with honey. “You don’t know what I’m talking about?”

You swallow and bite the inside of your cheek. The pain does nothing to clear the fog inside your mind. “I-I don’t, I-”

“You do,” he interrupts, his thumb still toying with your lip. “You’re so fucking obvious. I bet you’re wet already, aren’t you?”

“Mr. Sugawara!” His lewd words make you gasp, but more than anything, you hate the fact that he’s right. Your body has a mind of its own, and it wants nothing more than to wrap your lips around his thumb and pull him closer. It wants to feel his arms wrapped around you, feel his body towering over you.

But you can’t. As much as you want to, you can’t, because you have a husband at home who’s waiting for you. Sure, he isn’t home right now, because he’s putting in extra hours at the office. And sure, he hasn’t touched you or made you feel desired in weeks. Hell, you haven’t had a genuine conversation in weeks. But he’s still your husband! You try and remind yourself of that. You roll the thought around in your head, hoping that it’ll push your thoughts of Sugawara away.

But the young teacher is persistent, and there’s a glimmer in his eye that makes your chest tighten. “Call me Koushi, princess.”

“Don’t call me princess –”

“What, you’re going to pretend that it didn’t make you wetter? Going to pretend that you aren’t clenching your thighs together right now?” He leans in even closer, so that his breath brushes against your ear as he whispers. “Your body doesn’t lie, baby.”

A whine slips past your lips at his words, and then you gasp, mortified with yourself. But the grin that covers his face makes your transgression worth it, because God, he’s handsome. His hand squeezes your chin even tighter, and then trails down to your neck. Your breath catches in your chest. You’re hyperaware of his every movement, of his fingers trailing across your skin, his touch feather-light. It leaves you aching for more.

You instinctively whine again, and he lets out a noise of surprised delight. “Whining like this, and you’re still denying that you want me? What’s got you so embarrassed?”

“I have a husband,” you hiss – or, at least, you try to hiss. It comes out more like a whimper than anything else.

Sugawara looks at you for a beat – and then throws his head back and laughs. It catches you off guard, and you furrow your brow. “Why the fuck are you laughing?”

He collects himself, but his eyes are still gleaming when he looks back at you. “Sure, you have a husband. But that doesn’t stop you from thinking about me, does it? Tell me, when’s the last time that your husband took care of you? When’s the last time that he touched you, or fucked you, or made you feel good?”

“Mr. Sugawara, this is inappropriate–”

“Stop lying to yourself.” His voice suddenly drops, his stare forceful and deadly serious. “Say the word, and I’ll go. We can pretend this never happened. But anyone with eyes can tell that you’re unsatisfied.”

“I…I don’t…” Your thoughts feel like a wave, building higher and higher. They bounce around your head, reverberating against your skull, so loud that you can’t even think.

“Why are you settling?”

“Mr. Sugawara, please, I–”

“Why are you settling, when you know you want more?”

The wave crests.

You don’t know who moves first, but somehow, your fingers are tangled in his hair, and his lips are slotted against yours. It’s not soft, or sweet – it’s a mess of teeth and tongues and feverish breaths. His hands are everywhere. They trail over your skin, explore the curves of your chest and your stomach, grip tightly at your waist to pull you closer.

“Mr. Sugawara,” you pant against his lips. Your lungs scream for oxygen, but you can’t bear to drag yourself away from him for even a second. He kisses so well. It may be rushed, and messy, but there’s so much hunger behind his actions that it makes your head spin. It’s like his lips are a live wire, and every second that they touch yours, they send a thousand volts of electricity arcing through your body.

“Koushi,” he breathes. “Call me Koushi, please.” You nod, and then hurriedly undo the buttons of his shirt, popping a few off in the process. Neither of you care. His hands finally dip beneath the hem of your dress, and he wastes no time in unceremoniously tugging it off your body.

Your hands instinctively go to cover yourself. Age and childbirth have changed your body, and you know that Mr. Sugawara – no, Koushi – is probably used to beautiful young women. You still don’t understand why his eye landed on you. He surely has dozens of girls his age fawning over him, with flat stomachs and perky tits. Why you?

He grips your wrists and pries your hands away from your body. “Don’t do that,” he says, so gentle in contrast to the fire from just moments ago. “Don’t cover yourself up. You’re beautiful.”

Oh.

You can’t remember the last time that someone called you beautiful. You can’t remember the last time that you felt beautiful.

But right now, with Koushi staring at you, eyes blown out with lust… you feel it.

He sinks onto his knees, lips already pressing little kisses against your hips and upper thighs. You try and protest – really, Koushi, you don’t have to – but he shushes you instantly. He hooks one of your thighs over his shoulder and dives in without hesitation. Even through the fabric of your panties, you’re in fucking heaven. His tongue laves against your clit, focusing so much attention onto the swollen bead that you can’t help but let out a moan.

You slap your hand over your mouth to silence yourself. You’re in an elementary school, for God’s sake. The bake sale is at the other side of the large building, but you’re terrified of someone walking past and catching you. Guilt swirls around your heart, but it’s quick to dissipate when Koushi tugs your panties off and throws them over his shoulder. He buries himself into your cunt again, and it’s even better without the barrier. The coil in your stomach is tightening embarrassingly fast, but you can’t seem to find it in yourself to care. His tongue laps at your folds, slurping lewdly.

The pleasure is overwhelming. Your body moves of its own accord. Your hips grind against Koushi’s face, and he moans right into your cunt. His lips move up to your clit again, alternating between licking and sucking. You’re so focused on his mouth that you barely notice his fingers, so long and pretty, collecting your wetness.

You do notice when he fucks two of those pretty fingers into you. He immediately starts scissoring his fingers to stretch you out, before hooking them against that spot inside of you that makes your head spin. Your entire body is shaking with euphoria, so much that you can’t handle it.

“Close,” you cry out, trying to keep yourself upright. “Close, close, please, don’t stop!”

He moans into you again when you tug at his hair. It’s the push that you need to finally fall over the edge. You bite into your palm to keep from screaming as you gush all over him, chest heaving and eyes tearing up.

He keeps curling his fingers, keeps lapping at your clit, until you tug on his hair and cry that the overstimulation is too much. As he lets your leg down and stands up, he makes a show of licking your cum off his fingers, slurping on them loudly. It would make you embarrassed, but you’re too focused on his other hand as it dips down to his belt. The muscles of his stomach flex as he undoes the buckle. You take the opportunity to rake your eyes over his toned torso. He seems so slender when he’s dressed, but his shoulders are surprisingly broad.

He looks up at you with a little smirk. “Caught you staring,” he teases. You blush as he pulls his pants and boxers down in one go, freeing his cock. It’s already hard, and so pretty, just like him. His tip is red and dripping with precum. You want so badly to get a taste, but Koushi has other plans. He spins you by your shoulders, and then presses at the small of your back to make you lay across his desk.

You groan when you feel him slap his cock against your ass a few times, before running it through your folds to collect your wetness. “Please,” you gasp. “No teasing, please.”

“Just came, and you’re already needy?” he chuckles. “That husband of yours must really not be satisfying you.”

You’re spared from having to think of a retort by him sinking into you. A cry leaves your lips, but it’s too good for you to even care about the sound. He feels like heaven as he sinks into you. His cock stretches you out deliciously.

You’re already feeling delirious as he starts to shallowly thrust and work his way in. “Fuck, you’re tight,” he mutters under his breath, more to himself than to you. “So – fuck…”

You can’t do anything but moan and scratch at the table as he starts to fuck into you in earnest. His cock is perfectly curved to hit your spot every time, and soon you’re reduced to a mess underneath him. His balls slap against your ass with every thrust. It hurts, it’s all too much, but it’s so fucking good. You don’t think you’ve ever felt pleasure like this – mind numbing and all consuming, so powerful that it makes your eyes roll back.

“Fuck,” he groans again, bending down so that he can loom over you and leave little bites all over your back and shoulders. “Not gonna last if you keep squeezing me like that, shit!”

“Faster, please,” you beg, and he obliges. He sets an absolutely brutal pace, somehow managing to fuck you hard, fast, and at the perfect angle all at once. Moans and cries spill freely out of your open mouth. When he reaches forward to toy with your clit, it’s all too much, and it sends you over the edge again. Your body practically spasms as he fucks you through your second orgasm. He shows you no mercy, gives you no time to come down. You don’t know if you’re coming again, or if you just never stopped. Your mind is hazy with pleasure and overstimulation.

You’re a twitching mess by the time that he pulls out, but you still whine at the loss. You’re far too fucked out to turn around and look at him, but in the corner of your consciousness, you can hear him panting and stroking himself furiously. His moans are so beautiful. Within a few short seconds, he’s coming all over your ass, painting your pretty skin white with his seed.

You don’t know how long you’re laying there before he taps your cheek to get your attention. “C’mon now,” he says, a tired smile on his face. “Let’s get you cleaned up. We wouldn’t want your husband finding out, would we?”

[myherowritings]

PART 1. A VERY WELL-DESERVED TIP

SUMMARY. Todoroki Shouto was a wealthy, young CEO who inherited his father’s enterprise. You were a barista at a local cafe who wouldn’t mind some extra cash. One day, Shouto came in during an early morning shift and tipped you such a large sum of money, you were certain it had to have been an accident. To your surprise and complete pleasure: It was not.

PAIRING. ceo!todoroki shouto x barista!reader

WORD COUNT. 2.0k

GENRE. ceo/barista au, fluff, eventual smut

WARNINGS. none in this chapter

A/N. my brief work as a barista is finally paying off. i suffered at sbux all to write this fic ✌︎('ω'✌︎ ) LMAOOO i frl had so much fun writing this and i’m very excited to share the next parts ;) i hope you enjoy this fic as much as i do!! xx sof

SERIES MASTERLIST

© myherowritings — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, copying, or translating of any kind is not allowed. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

You were not looking forward to your new work schedule for the next month. 

The employee who usually came in for opening shifts at four in the morning gave her two weeks notice...two weeks ago. And since you had your availability open (you knew you should’ve blocked it off and said you had morning class), your manager asked you to fill her place. 

The night before your first—of many—morning shifts, you tried tricking yourself into thinking it was a good idea. And it almost worked! Sort of. 

You told yourself waking up early when the sun rose worked with your body’s natural circadian rhythm and this experience may adjust your sleep schedule for a healthier one in the long run. Better health and wellbeing and lower risks of cardiovascular disease. Or something. You weren’t too sure exactly; you never paid much attention in biology but it sounded like something you’d find in a textbook, right?

When you arrived on your first day, the morning shift was just as hectic and chaotic as you expected. People in business suits with name brand bluetooth earphones in their ears and the latest new smartphone in their hand filled the shop and waited for their online order. It was as if they wanted the least amount of social interaction possible, which would be fine if being able to make connections with customers wasn’t the most interesting part about being a barista. 

Although the cafe you worked at was a small business who actually (tried) to pay their employees fairly and wasn’t a purely money hungry franchise like the certain green siren, it surprisingly had gained enough traction in the area to rival one of those cheap, chain stores. 

Good for the business, bad for sleepy workers who could barely function in the mornings.

But you enjoyed working here and the owners were kind, so you did your best to shove away the tiredness and put a bright and cheery smile on your face. The customers were grumpier than you were used to, but who wouldn’t be a little ill-mannered having to go to work at 5 a.m. and probably not leaving until 6 p.m. or later because of bosses who overworked them? Trying to get them their morning coffee with an amiable attitude to start off their day right was something you were more than happy to do. 

It was too bad barely any of them gave you the time of day. They just wanted to get their caffeine and leave with as little human interaction as possible. It was understandable, of course, but it wasn’t the lively cafe environment you were used to during later shifts. You sighed, hoping the atmosphere would be friendlier when it wasn’t a major rush hour. 

“Hi! I can help the next person in line,” you called for the twentieth time this hour. When they moved forward towards the cash register, you gave them a smile. “Good morning. I hope your day has been going well!”

“It’s been okay, thank you. And yours?”

Your eyes widened in surprise and you almost sputtered over thin air. Someone who actually replied back to what you said and asked about you in return? Even if the intent was a courtesy conversation that was meant to be quick and brief, the sentiment was there—the upholding of the values of common courtesy and human decency. Something too many people seemed to lack. 

“I’m good as well! A little tired but what’s to be expected a quarter ‘til 6 a.m.?” you said with a laugh. “Thank you for asking.”

The customer gave a small smile in return and you internally celebrated for finally seeing your first pleasant expression this morning. “Must be even more tiring dealing with all these people. Doesn’t seem easy. I have to commend you for it.”

He was a tall, handsome man with a pretty face, soft-looking hair, and genuinely nice? There was no way this was real; you had to be dreaming. 

You twiddled with the pen in your hands, taken aback and mildly embarrassed by the praise. “Just doing my job,” you said with a bashful look. “Thank you, though.” You cleared your throat, not wanting to hold the line up for too long, even if the customer was one you would rather keep talking to than the others. “Now, what can I get started for you today?”

“Right. Can I get a flat white in the medium size?” 

“Of course.” You typed in his order into the register before asking, “And is there anything else I can get for you? Like a pastry? Today we have some freshly baked cheese danishes that are really yummy if you’d like to try!” 

He thought for a while before shrugging. You weren’t sure if it was your eyes playing tricks on you or he actually had an amused look on his face. “Sure, I’ll take a couple dozen of those as well.” 

“A couple dozen—?” your voice faltered. The suggestion of a fresh pastry was one you made to almost every customer, though most turned it down on the spot. 

The cafe had a little weekly competition between workers to see who could sell the most pastries in the week and the one who sold most got...well, a free pastry and bragging rights. Admittedly, it wasn’t much, but nothing revved up sales like friendly rivalries. An order of a couple dozen was sure to land you in the top spot this week! Still, you had to make sure he meant it. You’d feel bad if he was just spending all his hard-earned office work money because he was trying to be courteous. (Or at least, you assumed he was some office employee.) 

You cautiously asked, “Are you sure?”

Either your eyes were playing tricks on you yet again, or the look of amusement on his face grew even more than before as he said, “I’m sure. One medium flat white and, say, three dozen boxes of cheese danishes, please.” 

“C-Coming right up!” you said, quickly entering his order and celebrating your free end-of-the-week pastry in advance. “That will be $42.81. Would that be card or cash?” 

“Card.” He pulled out a sleek, black card with gold detailings on it and you never knew you could be sexually attracted to a credit card until now. 

“Perfect! Go ahead and swipe, insert, or scan your card now. In the meantime, can I get a name for your order please?” 

He scanned his card over the machine before looking back up at you. “It’s To— Ah, Shouto.” 

“Shouto?” you asked in confirmation. You assumed it wasn’t ‘Toahshouto’. That sounded too much like the abbreviation used to remember how to find sine, cosine, and tangent.

“Yeah. Shouto.” 

You smiled. “Well, Shouto, your order will be ready in a few minutes. Please wait over to your right to pick it up!”

He nodded. 

“It was nice meeting you!” you called, waving goodbye. “I hope you have a good rest of your day.”

“Thank you,” he glanced at your nametag, “Y/N.” 

Oh, how nice it felt to be treated like a human by a customer and have them actually address your name— And not to say it in a condescending way either. 

“Do individual baristas get to keep the tips here?”

You blinked, feeling your face warm up slightly. “We do, actually.” One of your favorite parts of the job, you had to admit. 

“Glad to hear.” Shouto pulled out some crisp-looking bills from his wallet and placed one in your hand that said ‘100’ to you. “Thank you for your kind service, Y/N.” 

“Wha—” Your eyes widened. You were expecting something along the line of three dollars. Maybe five at most. But a hundred? By the time you had processed what had happened he was walking away from the cash register. “Wait— Shouto...sir! I think you accidentally gave me the wrong amount.” 

He shook his head, only briefly turning back to face you. “Nope. It’s for you,” he said simply. “I’m looking forward to the cheese danishes.” 

His words left you stunned, but the next customer in line tapped their foot impatiently, signaling it was now time for you to take their order. You hoped the line died down before Shouto left the cafe so you could return the tip, but seeing as how the queue almost extended out the door, you had the sinking feeling that wouldn’t be a possibility. 

“Hello, I can take the next customer in line!” you recited cheerfully, mind still occupied by thoughts of your last encounter. 

The next few orders went along uneventfully (though you did manage to sell two more cheese danishes) and by the time Shouto got his coffee and pastry boxes, you still had a handful more customers to get through. 

“Pardon me real quick,” you said apologetically to the woman in front of you. “Please give me one moment?” 

She graced you with a nod and you thanked the stars above for an understanding patron. 

“Wait— Excuse me, sir!” You waved in Shouto’s direction before he could exit the cafe. He glanced at you curiously but walked over. In a hushed voice, you said, “I really appreciate the tip, but there’s no way I could accept this much money from you!” 

For the first time today, you say the hints of a frown on his face. “You cannot?” 

“No! $100 is a lot! You already bought $40 worth of cheese danish pastries— Are you sure you meant to give that big of a tip?”

“Of course.” He took a sip of his coffee with a satisfied hum. “You getting up at such an early hour to take people’s orders with a kind attitude isn’t easy. Plus, trying to build rapport with each of them all while keeping the interacting swift is a difficult task itself. And it’s probably worth more than your current pay, the $100 tip, and then some.” 

You blinked, stunned by his words. This man kept surprising you so many times in just one morning. 

“I find it ridiculous how certain occupations are paid an ungodly amount more than others, especially when a lot of it comes from privileges you were born into.” Shouto seemed to mumble the last bit to himself, but you were still able to understand what he said. “It’s bullshit.” Before you could respond, he recollected himself. “Eat the rich, right? All that to say, please accept the tip. You deserve it. And I promise it’s of no detriment to me, so please don’t feel bad.”

Seeing the determined look on his face, you couldn’t help but stare at him before nodding. He didn’t say anything you didn’t already believe yourself, and if someone really wanted to give you $100, you weren’t going to fight them on it. Think of all the dumplings you could buy, you told yourself.

“T-Thank you then.” You gingerly placed the folded bill back into your pants pocket. “I think that was really insightful of you and I’m very grateful.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled before glancing towards the exit. “I’m running a bit late for work now, so I should be going. Have a good day, Y/N.”

“You too, Shouto. And… Thank you again!”

With a glowing expression on your face, you walked back to the cash register ready to face the day and talk to more lovely customers!

“Hey, little barista!” a gruff voice called from the line, snapping you out of your stupor. “Hurry it up already before you force me to complain to your manager.” 

You internally sighed. You understood they were in a rush, but they still had no right to be that rude. 

“Can you even hear me? Or are you too incompetent?”

Cue another internal sigh. 

Yeah, okay. Maybe you did deserve this $100 tip.

Regardless of the rude customers that may have come in, at least you had your thoughts of a cute, kind businessman who went by the name of Shouto to get you through your shift. And you could only hope you’d be able to see him again.

a/n: the end of part one folks!! oh what i’d give to have gotten a tip like this when i worked as a barista BAHAHA only in my dreams. i hope you enjoyed this little intro part and are excited for what’s to come !! :3

what to expect in the next part:

~maybe~ y/n will see shouto again and,,perhaps,,get more tips from him idk who knows 

old lady imparts some...helpful(?) advice 

we briefly get to see shouto’s pov! ;D

[queenshelby]

Fan with Benefits (Part One)

Pairing: Cillian Murphy x Reader

Words: 1,058

Warning: None

Notes: As usual, this is fiction and has nothing to do with Cillian’s real life.

You’ve been working at the Dublin Art Gallery for the past five months in sales and acquisition and tonight was the opening night of the exhibition.

You were off duty and attended the gala with one of your best friends, Katherine, who loved modern art and abstract paintings just as much as you did.

As expected, the evening was busy and there were many celebrities around who attended the gala.

’It’s Cillian Murphy, right over there’ your friend Katherine eventually pointed out and, sure enough, when you looked over towards him, he noticed you too and smiled.

‘Oh my god, he just looks as good in real life’ you observed, cheeks flushing and it was obvious to you that he was still looking over towards you.

You tried hard to straighten up your short black dress and make a serious expression and perhaps even look somewhat elegant when you sipped on your glass of champagne, but your efforts were futile. As usual, you were rather clumsy, especially when you were wearing high heels.

‘He is still looking at you’ Katherine then pointed out and you glanced over again only just to look away from him quickly.

‘I am sure he is just looking at the painting behind me’ you said, looking at the rather abstract artwork in front of which you were standing.

‘He’s coming over’ Katherine then giggled, knowing how much you adored him in his movies and Peaky Blinders. Clearly, you were a little star struck by him.

Nervously, you watched him come closer and closer until he was standing directly in front of you.

‘I’ve been told that you work here’ he suddenly said to you as he stood right in front of you and Katherine and you couldn’t help but nod nervously.

‘Yes, but it’s my night off’ you shuddered while forcing out a smile.

‘I can see that’ Cillian chuckled. His smile was simply mesmerising.

‘You can?’ you asked, fidgeting as you did.

‘You are drinking champagne…a fair bit of it if I may add’ Cillian then pointed, causing you to bite your lip with embarrassment.

‘I might still be able to help you or, if you prefer, I can get Callum, my manger’ you then said nervously.

‘I am sure you will be able to’ he then winked before telling you that he was interested in purchasing one of the paintings.

‘Uhm, which one?’ you asked, looking around to ascertain what had caught his interest.

‘Common, I will show you’ Cillian suggested and, of course, you nodded and followed him.

When he showed you the painting, you weren’t really surprised. The piece was modern but yet elegant.

‘Well, I cannot sell the painting to you tonight, but I can take a deposit and mark it as sold and then you can finalise the deal when the exhibition concludes in six weeks’ you told him as you required authorisation from your boss.

‘That will do, thank you’ Cillian responded and you suggested that he follows you to the office so that you can take the deposit and fill out the purchase order.

***

After you sat down behind your desk, you typed up the particulars rather quickly which was difficult after the two glasses of champagne you had and due to the fact that Cillian’s presence made you rather nervous.

‘I need your phone number please’ you then said nervously, not wanting to sound like a stalker or total weirdo.  ‘Just so I can process the sale’ you then quickly explained as Cillian had raised one of his eyebrows at you.

‘Of course’ Cillian responded before reading out his mobile phone number for you.

‘What’s yours?’ he then asked suddenly, catching you by surprise.

‘Mine?’ you wondered.

‘Your phone number’ he chuckled.

‘Why?’ you asked.

‘In case I need to contact you about the sale. I would much rather deal with you directly as, the truth is, I don’t like Callum very much’ Cillian explained and it was very difficult for you to argue with him the way he looked at you.

‘Uhm, alright’ you said before reading out your mobile phone number and watching him type it into his phone.

‘Your name?’ he then asked, realising that you didn’t introduce yourself to him.

‘Y/N’ you said shyly, cheeks flushing red.

‘Well, it was nice to meet you Y/N’ Cillian said after finalising the particulars with you and paying the deposit.

***

When you returned to the gallery, Katherine was quick to ask you a million questions, wanting to know what Cillian was like, what said and even what he smelled like.

She was as obsessed with him as you were and wanted to know everything.

You both couldn’t help but watch Cillian for the rest of the evening and, surely, he must have noticed, glancing over towards you numerous times throughout the night until, suddenly, he was gone.

***

The following day, you received a phone call which was rather unexpectant.

‘Is that Y/N?’ a familiar voice asked.

‘Yes, who is this?’ you asked somewhat annoyed, thinking that this was yet another one of those telemarketing calls.

‘It’s Cillian’ the man then said and, when you didn’t respond, he added ‘Cillian Murphy’.

‘Uhm, right, hey…how can I help?’ you asked surprised.

‘Callum called me this morning and told me that I should have signed the purchase order. He said that he will make an exception for me and that I can simply sign it when I pick up the painting in six weeks when the exhibition ends. The problem is, I won’t be in Dublin then and my architect will pick it up for me. So, I want to get this purchase order signed in advance’ Cillian explained.

‘Of course, yes. I can make arrangements for that’ you told him.

‘Perhaps I can come to your place and sign? How does 7 o’clock tonight sound?’ Cillian then asked.

‘You want to come to my place? Why not the gallery?’ you asked somewhat confused.

‘Because I am in London and won’t get back until you close up for the day. What’s your address?’ Cillian explained.

‘Uhm, it’s Unit 6, 7 Lakeview Hill Road, Donnybrook’ you said nervously.

‘Can you text this to me?’ Cillian asked and, of course, you agreed and confirmed that you would see him at 7 o’clock at your apartment.

Tag List:

@lilymurphy03 @deefigs @theflamecrystal @desperate-and-broken @weepingstudentfishhorse @livinginfantaxy @rosey1981 @atomicsoulcollecto @peakyboyslover @nerdy4itall@elenavampire21 @hanster1998@mariapaiva13 @fairypitou @harry-is-my-sunflower @zozeebo @lauren-raines-x @kasaikawa @littlewierdalien @sad-huffle-nerd @theflamecrystal @peakymalfoyscullymulder @themissthang@0ghostwriter0 @stylescanbeatmyback @1-800-peakyblinders @datewithgianni @momoneymolife @ntmynouis @lilymurphy03 @mcntsee@cloudofdisney@missymurphy1985 @peakymalfoyscullymulder @otterly-fey @janelongxox @uchihacumdump @basiclassy @being-worthy @chaotic-bean-of-smolness @margoo0 @ @vhscillian @ysmmsy @littlewierdalien @crazymar15  @stickyknightflowerbailiff @im-constantly-fangirling @goldensunflowe-r  @tellingyouastory  @captivatedbycillianmurphy​  @namelesslosers​  @littlewhiterose​  @ttzamara​  @ttzamara @cilleveryone  ​

@peaky-cillian​

@severewobblerlightdragon​  @ysmmsy​  

[mostlycompetentwriter]

Wow, he’s hot

“Pairing: Fem!Reader x Seo Changbin (SKZ)

Word Count: 8K

Genre: Neighbors to Lovers? Lol

Warnings: Aged up characters (Changbin is ten years older than the reader), explicit sexual content, language, drinking

Summary: You were a fresh college graduate, returning home for the summer before starting a bright, shiny new position in the city, but you certainly weren’t expecting to fall hard for your neighbor. 

A/N: I hope at least one person gets my reference/pun at the end....But seriously? Oh, what have I done...

Your roommate was hungover again, dressed to the nines in a purple bathrobe and pink fluffy slippers as she attempted to move huge boxes of random shit between her bedroom and the foyer of your shared apartment. 

It was priceless entertainment, at least in your opinion, especially after witnessing your roommate in rare form the previous night dancing from one frat boy to the next, draining entire bottles of alcohol like she needed the liquid encouragement. 

From what you had observed, she was determined to embarrass you at all costs, and under normal circumstances, you could’ve avoided her rather inappropriate behavior in exchange for your regular hook-up, Joshua. But he decided to remain mysteriously absent for the entire evening, which meant that you had been stuck watching over your roommate, hoping that she wouldn’t get you kicked out again....

“I know what you’re thinking, Y/N,” Laura huffed, pausing next to the counter-top where you sat. “What did you expect? It was my last night of freedom before going back home.”

“Yeah,” you snorted. “It was mine too, but I wasn’t plastered face-down in the shower last night.”

“Whatever,” Laura grimaced. “Did you sign off on the lease yet?”

“I did it earlier,” you replied. 

“Our bitchy landlord’s been complaining all week,” Laura said. “I’m tired of her late-night phone calls, plus my mom’s been really annoying about the move.”

“Oh?” you questioned. “When is she coming?”

“In like an hour,” Laura huffed. “Why do you think I’m busting my ass to pack everything?”

“I don’t know,” you said. “Maybe you needed a distraction from thinking about puking in the bushes behind the frat house last night.”

“Oh, shut up about that!” Laura hissed, slapping your arm as you kept laughing. “Isn’t you brother coming tomorrow?”

“Ugh, yeah,” you groaned. “He said he has to come super early because of work, but my ass doesn’t start functioning until at least 8:00.”

“Well, at least tell Chan ‘hi’ for me,” Laura said, giggling like a love-struck teenager because she had been infatuated with your older brother for years.

“If I remember to tell him,” you grumbled, stretching out your arms and deciding that it might be useful for you to start packing as well, especially since the most you would be able to accomplish tomorrow morning at the ass crack of dawn is following Chan around the apartment in a zombie-like state as the two of you loaded your belongings into his car.

“Don’t forget that I’m coming to visit next week,” Laura said, and you perked up a little at the idea of having your friend come around, especially since the two of you had just graduated together and those long days and nights of being glued together at the hip were coming to a bittersweet end.

“Sounds good,” you agreed, checking your phone one last time to see a weird gif from Chan (as you had come to expect from him) before joining your roommate in packing up the remainder of your former college life.

Chan had always been prompt when it came to his familial obligations, and the two of you spent two hours loading all of your stuff into his car before starting the long drive to your old childhood home. A place that you hadn’t ventured to since leaving four years ago to start undergraduate school.

“Looks the same,” you remarked, sunglasses perched low on your nose as you allowed the window to roll down to take in some fresh air.

“What did you expect?” Chan asked, humming away to whatever shitty metal song he had playing over the radio.

In a totally random and last-minute decision, you had decided that for the next three summer months while you were stuck in an in-between phase, you were returning home for a while before you were set to move into a new apartment in the city close to where you would be working full-time. It seemed logical to save money, and there was a small part of you that did miss your family and old friends. 

Of course, despite Chan’s dismissal of your earlier nonchalant comment about the unchanging surroundings of your hometown, you were startled when you realized that the old house next door, which used to be occupied by an elderly couple until they moved away during your senior year of high school, was missing it’s familiar ‘for sale’ sign in the front yard, and there was a black Mustang in the driveway.

“Home sweet home,” Chan sighed when he stopped in the carport attached to your former two-story staccato, opening the door with a grumble. 

You frowned, following him around to the back of his car. “Someone bought the house next door?” you asked, dragging your eyes away from the sleek, shiny sports car to look at your brother.

Chan grunted as he heaved your suitcase from the trunk. “Yeah, they moved in last month. I think the owner is a lawyer and he lives there with his daughter.”

“Huh,” you remarked. “That house has been vacant for years.”

Chan shrugged. “Yeah, well, the guy who lives there now is really nice. Mom and dad babysit for him a lot when he’s working.”

“Great,” I muttered. “They’ll rope me into helping.”

“S’ not so bad,” Chan said, growling in frustration when your suitcase fell over to the side with an unpleasant crash. “Can you help or what?”

You laughed at your brother’s outrage, reaching back to pull your hair into a messy bun. 

Meanwhile, you noticed the front door of your house opening from the corner of your eye, smiling when your mother shrieked and rushed down the sidewalk to meet you halfway in a long-winded embrace. “Y/N!! I’m so glad to see you.”

“You’re crushing me,” you heaved through constricted lungs, accepting your mother’s open arms even if it was a little over-eager.

“Oh! I’m sorry, dear,” she said, pulling back just enough to allow oxygen to circulate once again, but not enough to pull you away from her mushy kisses. “You look so healthy and beautiful!”

“Yeah, thanks mom,” you said, slowly beginning the untangling process of removing her arms from around you while Chan struggled in the background to carry your suitcase up the front steps. “I should help.”

“Of course!” your mom agreed, but a distant tug of curiosity had you turning back to look at the house next door once again.

“Hey? Do you know anything about the new neighbor?”

“You mean Changbin? He’s wonderful, darling. So polite, and his daughter is so funny.”

You wrinkled your nose, never having been a huge fan of kids. “Chan said you babysit for him sometimes.”

“It’s always nice to help someone out,” your mother tsked, and you could recognize her patronizing tone from anywhere. “Such a shame that he divorced his wife. Heard it was kinda nasty.”

“It’s not any of our business,” you reminded her.

“Oh, I didn’t say it was!” your mother sighed. “He doesn’t talk about it much.”

“Jeez, how much do you guys talk?”

Because from the sound of it, Changbin had to be as old as your mom to make this much of an impression. You grinned as you briefly imagined the two of them on the front porch drinking tea together and gossiping about the rest of the neighborhood.

“He’s far more friendly than Mrs. Jones was,” your mother remarked. “I think you’d like him, Y/N.”

“I don’t know about that...”

“Well, you’ll get the chance to meet him tonight,” your mother said, smile full and wide. “I’ve invited him over for dinner!”

Oh, great.

“Can’t wait,” you forced out between clenched teeth, rolling your eyes when your mom clapped her hands together before grabbing your hand to drag you inside, feeling only a distant shiver roll across your spine as you walked onto the porch as if someone was looking at you from afar....

Your mother was hardly the type to run out of conversation, and you eventually were forced to leave her downstairs to argue with Chan over some menial thing that he forgot to do for tonight’s big dinner while you trudged upstairs to find some peace.

Unsurprisingly, your childhood bedroom remained untouched, and you circled around the perimeter, studying old pictures of yourself playing sports and hanging out with friends. Fingers dusting over your collection of old trophies and high-school yearbooks that recalled long-ago days of feeling carefree - with the future wide-open in front of you for the taking.

But you were well off in the present, allowing yourself to indulge in the nostalgia of looking through old diaries and journals before your mother’s voice called you downstairs for dinner later that evening. “Coming!” you called back, pausing next to your mirror to check your reflection.

The smell of your mother’s cooking had your stomach rumbling from the hunger of only stopping once on the way home to eat cheap fast-food with Chan, and you forced yourself to walk like a normal person even though every instinct was screaming at you to find the source of that delicious odor.

You were nearly salivating at the idea of your mother’s homemade cooking, and your hand caught the rail of the bannister to turn the final corner, but the sounds of voices from below forced you to pause at the top of the stairs, eyes growing wide as you took in the sight of the unfamiliar man standing in your foyer, talking to your mother like they had known each other for years. “Oh, Y/N,” your mother said, and you shivered when the man turned to look at you. “Come meet our neighbor, Changbin. I think you’ll really like him.”

You held back a snort at the ironic comment because it only took you a few seconds to come to the conclusion that Changbin epitomized the phrase “just my type.”

He was on the shorter side, built like he had literally spent his entire life working out, arms bulging beneath his t-shirt and chest straining the material tight to his front. So much so that you could practically see his nipples through the fabric. 

His hair was jet-black, ruffled from the wind outside, and his eyes were equally as dark, lips contorted into a self-satisfied smirk that you found exceedingly hot.

“Hi,” you mustered without much thought, nearly tripping over your own two feet on the way down the stairs.

“This is my daughter, Y/N,” your mother said, inviting you closer so that you were standing directly in front of Changbin.

“Nice to meet you,” he said in a deep voice that was slightly rough around the edges.

“Y/N just graduate from college,” your mother gushed. “We’re so excited to have her back.”

“I’m home for the summer,” you explained, shivering at the dark look in Changbin’s gaze. “I’m starting an internship in the Fall.”

“Y/N will be working in publishing,” your mother explained, jumping in while you and Changbin continued to stare each other down - something intense and provocative.

“Really?” Changbin asked, eyes making a leisurely stroll of looking you up and in down in a way that had you feeling extremely self-conscious. 

“Oh! Give me one second to check something in the kitchen,” your mother said, excusing herself with a smile before leaving the two of you alone in the foyer.

You inwardly cursed your mother for leaving you both in an awkward silence. Say something!! You screamed to yourself.

“So,” you started, clearing your throat and forcing yourself to stop swaying back and forth. “Chan told me you practice law.”

“Yeah,” Changbin agreed, and you swooned at his crooked smile. “It doesn’t sound as interesting as your work.”

“I don’t know about that,” you countered politely, but Changbin was unrelenting.

“You looked surprised to see me earlier,” he remarked.

You swallowed hard. “Oh, well when Chan mentioned a neighbor with a kid, I just wasn’t expecting someone so....”

“Yes?” Changbin prodded, encouraging you to continue.

Someone so fucking hot, you thought to yourself, someone who was literally made inside my best fantasies, but those explicit thoughts belonged exclusively inside your head. “Young,” you eventually finished, and Changbin seemed disappointed for some reason.

“I’m 32,” he said, and your eyes widened perceptibly, realizing that he was ten years older than you.

“I would’ve never guessed,” you said. “I mean, not that it’s a bad thing-”

“It’s alright,” Changbin interrupted, and you were relieved to hear him chuckle. “I know what you mean.”

“I’m sorry,” you said. “I can be a little awkward.”

“No,” he shook his head, coming to stand a little closer. “I think it’s nice.”

Oh? What was that supposed to mean?

“I used to have a boyfriend who looked a lot like you,” you went on, freezing when you comprehended what you had just blathered without thinking.

But Changbin didn’t seem bothered at all. “I bet he wasn’t as old as me.”

“He was my age,” you said. “But I kinda like older men...”

Fuck. Did those words really just come out of your mouth?!

“Y/N,” Changbin said, and you trembled at the huskiness of his tone. “You should be more careful.” He leaned in then as if trying to keep whatever he was about to say a secret for just the two of you. “I can be a very dangerous man.”

“O-oh,” you stuttered, finding yourself two seconds away from literally melting at his feet when your mother suddenly re-entered the foyer with a dusting of flour across her chin. 

“Dinner’s ready!” she announced, and you were fleeing behind her without a second thought, escaping the intoxicating hold of Changbin’s presence before you did something you might regret.

For whatever reason, you found yourself sitting next to Changbin in the dining room for dinner that night. 

“I made chicken,” your mother said, gesturing to each dish sitting in a line down the center of the table as she explained tonight’s menu. But you were barely cognizant of what your mother was saying because the close proximity to Changbin was doing very strange things to your head.

“So, Y/N,” your father started when everyone had been served. “I hope your brother was helpful with the move.”

Chan rolled his eyes, but you grinned at your father’s words. “Yeah, I was a little out of it though because of the time.”

“Like I said,” Chan huffed. “I couldn’t get there any later.”

“Let the bickering commence,” your mother said. “Changbin, you wouldn’t believe the fights these two had when they were young.”

“I can only imagine,” Changbin said, and you were wondering how someone could be even more attractive by the sound of their voice alone.

“Do you still need us to babysit for you tomorrow night?” your mother asked. “We would be more than accommodating.”

“That would be great,” Changbin said. “I’ve got a late conference call.”

“It’s no problem,” your mother continued. “Your daughter is just the loveliest.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear that,” Changbin replied.

“Y/N,” your mother said, catching you with a mouthful of chicken. “Changbin’s daughter is such a peach.”

You quickly forced down the food in your mouth when you felt Changbin’s gaze rest on you. “Oh? How hold is she, Mr. Seo?”

“She’s six,” Changbin said, and he shifted in his chair, causing your knees to brush together in a move that you knew wasn’t intentional, even if it didn’t stop your legs from wrapping together. “And you don’t have to be so formal with me, Y/N. Only my clients call me Mr. Seo.”

“O-oh,” you exhaled, reacting to the brief contact under the table, hoping that nobody else was noticing your strange behavior.

“Maybe Y/N could help watch Lucy when you’re gone,” your mother suggested, always the first to rope you into these things.

“Sure,” you agreed, even though the idea of pulling babysitting duty was less than appealing, and you could hear Chan snickering from across the table. He knew perfectly well your attitude when it came to kids. 

“I think Lucy would like that,” Changbin agreed, and you started to nod along until you felt Changbin’s hand move to your thigh.

Just that single move had your entire form frozen in place. 

While your mother continued talking about whatever subject caught her attention, you were left wondering how you should react to the very obvious posturing of Changbin’s hand moving decidedly against your bare skin.

“I’ll probably head back into town tomorrow morning,” Chan said. “I wasn’t able to get much work done.”

You knew it was a playful jab at you, but at that moment you were incapable of coherent speech.

“How is work, Channie?” your mother asked, just as ignorant as the rest of them to the situation unfolding beneath her table. “Anything interesting?”

“Not really,” Chan replied, and you nearly choked on the food you were swallowing when you felt Changbin squeezing your thigh. 

“Try to chew it first, Y/N,” your father chuckled, and you forced a smile which you hoped wasn’t as strained as it felt.

“What about you, Changbin?” your mother politely queried. “Anything interesting happening lately?”

“Maybe,” he said with a tone that was far too knowing.

“Hmmm?” your mother smiled. “You aren’t seeing anyone, are you?”

You knew the question was invasive, but Changbin handled it in stride. “I think it depends.”

“Sounds scandalous,” your mother joked, and you couldn’t have possibly been imagining it, feeling his fingers reach so high under the opening of your shorts that his fingertips touched the outline of your panties. 

You reached down to cover his hand with your own, bringing awareness to the fact that you weren’t ignoring what was happening, and he had every opportunity to pull back.

But he didn’t. In fact, Changbin’s light, playful touches only continued, and you were left reeling for what the intention could possibly mean.

Early the next morning, you were supposed to be cleaning the pool as a favor to your mother, but how could you be blamed for sneaking peaks at your neighbor working out in his backyard? 

“Holy shit,” you cursed under your breath, failing to do a very good job of pretending to be occupied with your current task while ogling the man across the lawn who was in the middle of another round of push-ups, biceps flexing while the rest of his body practically glowed under the sun. 

You knew it wasn’t a crime to permit the occasional glance, but your hardcore staring could certainly be qualified as spying at this point (especially in the direction of a lawyer) - making it blatantly obvious that you were very appreciative of the male form at the peak of performance.

Was Changbin seriously 32? And a father?

The questions boggled your mind, and in your distracted state, you clearly forgot to keep a firm hold on the handle of the pool’s leaf skimmer, huffing in annoyance when it splashed beneath the water.

It was enough to attract Changbin’s attention, and you were sure that your face was just as red as the towel draped over the back of your mother’s patio furniture when he stood to his full height before walking in your direction.

“Were you watching me?” Changbin asked, sauntering over to you with black mesh shorts hanging tantalizingly low on his hips, shirt foregone in exchange for a delightful sheen of sweat coating the skin of his thick upper torso in dripping rivulets. 

“Uh...” you trailed off anxiously, realizing that Changbin wouldn’t be stupid enough to fall for your half-assed excuses, especially after what had happened between the two of you last night. 

“You’re not planning on lying to me, Y/N?” he asked, raising one eyebrow in question.

“N-no, Mr. Seo,” you said, shaking your head quickly, barely keeping a firm grasp of your bearings as he abruptly leaned in closer, musk hanging heavy in the air between the two of you. 

“I told you not to call me that,” he said, lips lingering far too close to your ear for a simple neighborly exchange, and you could feel the body heat emanating from him in waves, holding you completely hostage as you briefly entertained the idea of falling to your knees right then and there. 

“What should I call you?” you asked instead, fisting your shirt between your hands because you were desperate for something to ground you in that moment. 

You could practically feel his smirk, holding in a gasp when his hand settled at the low dip in your spine, fitting into the space there as he pulled you tight against his front. “You can always call me daddy instead.”

Your heart skipped several beats at the scandalous words. Either that or you had just entered cardiac arrest.

But before you could muster a response, you found yourself leaping out of Changbin’s hold when the backdoor opened, and your mother was screaming out your name while waving like a maniac. “Oh!” she said when she realized that you weren’t alone. “I didn’t mean to interrupt!”

“We were just talking,” you quickly inserted, glancing at Changbin from the corner of your eye to see him smirking. 

For a while, the very strange flirtation between you and Changbin simmered down, and you tried your best to avoid him when you could, even if he made that very hard to do since he insisted on doing his morning workouts outside in direct line of your bedroom.

It was during the following week that you brought the divine glory of Changbin to your friend, Laura’s, attention, ushering her into your house when she parked on the side of street. “What the hell, Y/N?” she complained when you started practically dragging her up the stairs. “I’ve been driving for hours.”

“Oh, hush,” you said. “You’ll thank me later.”

“Thank you for what, exactly?” Laura questioned, but your response was to simply push her toward the window, standing side by side as you looked through the blinds.

“My new neighbor.”

“Holy fuck!” Laura gasped when she finally joined you, and you could only nod your agreement as the two of you continued to watch Changbin through two narrow breaks in your blinds, wondering how the image of your sexy neighbor simply mowing his grass could make you so wet. “That man is huge!”

“I think he does it on purpose,” you remarked, feeling your heart palpitate inside your chest when Changbin took a moment to pause his chore, reaching down to remove his shirt and tuck it into the waistband of his shorts.

Laura’s gasp was almost outlandishly laughable. “He’s ripped! Like, Sports Illustrated model worthy.”

“I would buy every last copy of that edition.”

“I’d even go a step further and tape the pictures to my wall.”

You both stopped to look at one another, nodding in your collective agreement. “Not here, though, my mom would freak.”

“Yeah, but how can your mom expect you to just ignore...that!” Laura exclaimed, gesturing wildly to Changbin.��

“She thinks he’s a fucking Saint, but I swear to god, Laura, he’s provoking me on purpose! The other night at dinner? He came over and put. his. hand. on. my. leg,” you said, emphasizing the last line with what probably looked like a comical widening of your eyes. “And he works out every morning in front of my bedroom? What the hell am I supposed to think?”

“No think,” Laura sighed dreamily. “Just enjoy the view.”

“Do you think I’m not?” you snorted. “I’m serious about him doing those things!”

“So what?” Laura grumbled. “Why are you actually worried that your fucking super model neighbor wants to make a few moves on you? I would be honored.”

“I’m not worried,” you huffed. “It just feels like he wants something from me.”

“Well, if it’s a good fuck, then send him all the signals you can, girl.”

“Really?” you muttered. “You know I suck with flirting. That’s why I only hooked up with Joshua at those stupid frat parties. He didn’t care that I was an awkward mess.”

“Well, neither will your neighbor,” Laura said. “Especially if he’s as interested as you say.”

You pursed your lips, considering her comment, but the sudden and unexpected sound of your door opening sent both you and Laura jumping nearly ten feet into the air as you hurried away from the blinds as fast as humanely possible to take up some form of normalcy.

No, mom, of course we weren’t staring at Mr. Seo.

“Girls,” your mother inquired as she walked inside, and you prayed that your mother hadn’t caught the two of you taking sly peaks at Changbin outside, but she seemed completely ignorant. “I have a question for you.”

“Hmmm?” you inquired, innocently enough, trying to act like the position that you had forced yourself into on the bed was totally not uncomfortable.

“Changbin needs someone to watch Lucy tomorrow night, but your father and I already made plans,” she said. “But I told him you would be more than happy to come over and help him out.”

You winced when Laura elbowed you in the side, giving you one of those looks that you knew quite well from countless nights of barhopping as sophomores. “Yeah, I don’t mind.”

“I’m sure you don’t,” Laura snickered, but you payed her no attention as you hurried to close the door behind your mother’s retreating form, breathing a sigh of relief to hear her walk back down the stairs.

In all of your years of existence, never had you questioned the appropriateness of an outfit to wear to someone’s place to babysit.

“Fuck it,” you eventually decided, settling on regular, well-worn jeans and a college t-shirt.

After all, it wasn’t like Changbin was staying for very long. He claimed he had something to do at the office, and you would be all alone inside his house with only his kid for companionship.

Still, after your conversation with Laura from the previous afternoon, you couldn’t help but feel more mindful about how he might look at you, and you forced yourself to wear your most professional smile when you rang the doorbell to his house, counting slowly from one until he opened the door.

“Hi, Y/N,” Changbin said, and you tried not to blatantly check him out; although, you couldn’t help but linger on the tight fit of his shirt across his pecs.

“Hello,” you nearly whispered, cursing your hormones as you followed Changbin inside.

“I actually have something to tell you,” Changbin said, leading you into the living room so that you could sit down while entered the adjoining kitchen.

“Oh?” you queried, as politely as you could, waiting for him to return.

It didn’t take him long, and you found yourself sitting up a little straighter from where you had made yourself comfortable on the couch. “So, I actually found someone else to watch Lucy,” Changbin explained, coming around to land next to you on the couch with two glasses of wine. 

“You did?” you asked, surprised and taken-aback. 

Why were you here then?

As if he could read your thoughts, Changbin smirked. “Thirsty?”

“Sure,” you agreed, taking one of the glasses and bringing the rim up to your lips. “I’m sorry, I just thought you wanted me to watch her.”

“I did,” Changbin said, and he seemed contemplative as he sipped his own drink. “But then I kinda wanted you for something else.”

“Something else?” you repeated because your mind was spinning those simple words in a thousand different directions, and you were only able to settle on one likely outcome when Changbin’s hand dropped to your thigh, reminiscent of your first dinner together from several evenings ago. 

He suddenly moved in closer to you, allowing you to smell the subtle cologne that he was wearing. “You’ve been watching me,” he said, and you shivered, feeling both hot and cold at the same time as you looked at him.

“S-sir?”

“Don’t play coy,” Changbin continued, and you found yourself observing the way his throat bobbed as he drank. “I don’t mind the attention.”

“You don’t?” you replied, a rather useless question considering the circumstances, and Changbin took your glass and sat both alcoholic selections onto the side table.

“Why wouldn’t I like it?” he asked, tracing little nonsensical patterns on the covered part of your thigh. “You’re a very beautiful girl.”

What. The. Hell?!!

“Mr. Seo, I don’t think-”

“Y/N,” Changbin interrupted, and you were so frazzled and disjointed by the sharp grip he took on your chin, forcing eye-contact that was so intimate, you could feel yourself grow a little bit wetter. “I told you not to call me that.”

It was the only precursor you got before Changbin was delving in, gripping your chin firmly as he connected your lips in a deep, sensuous exchange that had you reeling from the sudden 180 degree turn that the night had taken. 

In one word: everything was rough. Teeth meeting teeth, and tongues rolling in a messy glide against one another. Wet and warm. Silky and smooth. It was everything you needed in a kiss to get your gears turning, feeling your pussy positively throbbing in response.

“That’s right,” Changbin eventually said when he pulled the two of you apart - very much still in control. “We shouldn’t ignore this tension between us.”

“No,” you eagerly agreed, diving in once more for another earth-shattering kiss that rocked you to your very bones, taking the initiative to crawl into his lap, grinding yourself shamelessly against the tight bulge in his jeans while your fingers dug their way into his thick, dark hair. 

“Eager,” Changbin whispered between feverish kisses, keeping your mouths locked together at all costs, even if that meant growing a little bit light-headed from losing too much oxygen.

But you couldn’t get enough of him, not after all this teasing and tension. 

You didn’t care anymore, consequences be damned, and there wasn’t a single part of you opposing his intentional touches, giving him enough space to unbutton your jeans before sliding one hand beneath the waistband of your panties. In response, you moaned into his mouth, bracing your hands against his shoulders as he found the delicate folds of your pussy.

“Do you want me to touch you here?” Changbin asked, and you were feverishly nodding, sweat forming at the top of your forehead, trying your best to hold back your loudest moans when he slid right in with little resistance, moving his fingers around the inside of your cunt, stretching and filling you in a way that you imagined was nothing compared to what the thick cock beneath you could do.

But you would take anything from him, savoring the glide of his fingers since you were practically drenching him in sticky arousal, jerking forward every so often when his thumb pressed down a little too hard against your clit.

All the while, you could feel yourself start to break apart from the heated contact between the two of you, aching and wanting for the release that the look in his eyes told you he had every intention of providing.

And you were enjoying every bit of the journey to get there, bathing in his attention, groaning when his fingers curled up just right to tease your g-spot, and grinding down against the erection confined tightly in his jeans. 

Everything was suddenly so much louder, the sounds of his palm smacking against your cunt, fingers gliding through wetness, and the joined harmony of your combined moans and grunts. 

It was a rapid uphill ascent into the clouds, and you could feel him start to move even faster, pulling against the fabric of your jeans, and there was hardly any time for your mind to truly comprehend what was happening. Lost in a sinful haze of lust and divine rapture, wanting nothing more than to just lose yourself in Changbin.

Except he wasn’t letting you simply drown in the pleasure he was giving you, tugging at your hair to bring you back to the present, to the final string keeping your orgasm just out of reach. “You don’t think I haven’t noticed,” Changbin growled into your ear, keeping one hand tight around your waist to stop your squirming as he continued plunging his thick fingers between the tight walls of your pussy. “I see you looking at me because I want you to look.”

You moaned at the explicit expression of his desires, closing your eyes and returning your head against his shoulder, hips titillating according to the way he moved his fingers inside of you. 

“Cum for me,” he said, and you were more than willing to let go of everything, including the moans you had been trying to hold back, filling the house with the loud raucous of your screams as your orgasm snapped and unleashed a molten hot thrill along your spine.

You were gasping for breath, returning from the highest peak of satisfaction, but Changbin hardly gave you anytime to recover before he was removing his hand from your jeans and forcing you into the floor.

“My turn,” he grunted, and the sound of his belt unbuckling triggered some semblance of rationale, and you were practically salivating over Changbin’s cock, eyeing the red bulbous mushroom head and wondering how deep you could take him. “Well?” Changbin prodded, grabbing the base of his thick erection to brush it across the pout of your lips. “Open wide.”

You whimpered, but obeyed, allowing your tongue to stick out just enough to taste the drop of precum leaking from the tip. It was bitter and unappealing, but since it was from Changbin, you couldn’t resist trying more of him, going further and further down until you felt him at the back of your throat.

Your jaw was already aching from the extension, and a distant thought had you thinking, damn, you were gonna be sore in the morning. But it was completely worth it to hear him moan from above you, fingers tightening in your hair as you allowed him to set the pace, rolling you up and down his cock, tongue sweeping the sides and tip and digging into the little slit where you discovered he was the most sensitive. 

At the same time, you were all but humping his leg, desperate to get off again as he used your mouth for his own personal cocksleeve, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly, sending you gagging around his impossible length.

“You take cock like you were made for it,” he remarked, eyes glossing over in a way that had you feeling rather proud of your skills. 

It only lasted for a moment, and he abruptly held himself all the way down for one, two, three seconds until you were whining for him to let you free just long enough to take in another deep breath. 

“Finish me off,” he groaned, and you were working overtime to bring him to the edge, bobbing your head up and down the full expanse of his length, all gorgeous and velvety smooth skin. And you braced your hands against his knees, an anchor to reality, when he finally released down your throat, heavy and warm, causing you to nearly choke as you struggled to swallow every last drop.

“Good girl,” he whispered, petting your head softly as you whined and continued to rub yourself against him, jumping off the brink of orgasmic bliss right after him, allowing your head to fall down between his spread legs.

It was a quiet for a while as you both fought to catch your breath, but then he was moving again, rising from his position on the couch. 

You sat back on your heels at the jostling, whimpering when he stood over you with a menacing sneer, grabbing your face between his hands, forcing your gazes to meet somewhere in the middle even though you still couldn’t completely concentrate. But you were cognizant to at least understand his next words: “Lucy won’t be here tomorrow night, either.”

“Changbin,” you gasped, understanding the implications of his request and shivering at the effect they could still have on your worn-out body. 

“I’ll leave the door unlocked,” he whispered into your ear, keeping eye-contact as he brought his fingers still coated with your arousal into his mouth, sucking while you grew faint at the sight. Then, he pulled them free and knelt down to sear your lips together so that you could taste the riveting combination of your releases on his wicked tongue. 

You returned home that night in a daze, immediately heading for your room after assuring your mother that everything was totally fine with the babysitting, even if you probably appeared a little out of sorts. 

In the meantime, you landed on top of your bed with a sigh, opening your phone contacts to pull up Laura’s name, placing the call without any mind to the late hour.

She answered on the third ring with a curt grunt. “This better be good, Y/N.”

“Oh?” you replied with a nonchalant tone. “I thought you might be interested in hearing about my latest dick appointment.”

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. “You didn’t.”

“I did!”

“With your neighbor?”

You laughed at Laura’s shrill tone, rolling over onto your stomach with your feet dancing in the air behind you. “I totally sucked him off.” 

“Shit! How big is his cock?” Laura whispered over the phone as if anybody could possibly overhear your conversation. 

“Let’s just say he’s well-endowed.”

“You absolute slut!” Laura exclaimed. “Did he at least return the favor?”

“Oh, he’s a gentleman,” you explained. “He took care of me first.”

“Details!”

“He just fingered me,” you said, even as your mind sprinted with images and sensations; Changbin’s sultry gaze, defined muscles, and the burning desire he had planted deep in your core. 

“That’s hot though,” Laura said. “I can’t believe you actually did anything with him.”

“What? I told you he was sending me signals!”

“Yeah, but I was only halfway assuming that those signals might lead to his fingers in you!”

You couldn’t help yourself, laughing at Laura’s incredulous tone, and spending the next several minutes doing your absolute best to provide a heavily detailed play-by-play of your evening tryst with Changbin. 

“Lucky bitch,” Laura scoffed at the end of your long-winded tale. “I’d kill for someone to fuck me.”

“Well, we haven’t gotten there yet...”

“Yet? Are you planning to go back to him?”

“Obviously,” you said. “There’s unfinished business that I need to take care of.”

“You think he wants to fuck you?”

“I think he wants to do a lot to me,” you purred, smirking at the sounds of Laura’s outlandish squeals from the other end.

Still, you didn’t think those explicit fantasies would come to fruition so soon. But the next night when you returned to Changbin’s house under the guise of babysitting his kid, there were no formalities between the two of you because you both wanted each other in a way that should be considered improper. 

Fortunately, you were tired of caring about other people’s opinions, and it only took Changbin a moment to pull you into his house before his lips were crushing against yours, holding you around the waist as he started working at your clothes.

If whiplash was a thing in moments like these, then you had it bad, trying to follow the taste of him as he backed you both into the bedroom, closing the door and enveloping you both in the gentle glow from the lamp.

“Get on the bed,” Changbin growled when he finally pulled away, reaching down for the hem of his t-shirt. You swallowed hard at the sight of his broad, toned upper form, stumbling backward along the floor, hopping on one leg to finish removing your jeans for him, leaving you completely naked as you lowered yourself onto the mattress. “Good girl,” Changbin cooed, and you shivered at the huskiness of his voice, rubbing your thighs together in anticipation as he blatantly traced the outline of his cock through his jeans.

“Changbin, please,” you panted, already so worked up from just kissing and feeling his hands all over your body that you were desperate for something more.

“What do you want, gorgeous?” he asked, walking slowly around to the front of the bed as you watched him with eager eyes.

“Want you to fuck me,” you said, heart thundering against your chest when he started working apart his belt, pulling down his jeans and boxers and allowing his thick cock to slap up against his abdomen, already so hard for you even though you had just started.

“Hands and knees,” Changbin ordered, and you were surprised by your quick compliance, supporting yourself on shaky limbs as you felt him climb on the bed behind you, tensing when the head of his cock grazed your wet opening. “Look at you,” Changbin rumbled, teasing you even more by running his fingers down your spine, allowing his other hand to reach around to grope your breast.

“Hurry,” you practically begged him, and it was like the metaphorical band had finally snapped, and you moaned when Changbin took a firm hold of your hips, manhandling you back into position. 

“Good girls say please,” he snarled, and your entire form light up at the abrupt command.

“P-please,” you stuttered, and there was an unholy line of curses that left your lips when he directed his cock inside, penetrating you so slowly that you could feel every inch of him until he was snug against your ass.

“Since you asked nicely,” Changbin chuckled, and you had never been so turned on before in your entire life, heart racing and blood pumping, bracing yourself against the mattress when he started thrusting, gentle at first, but then faster and faster as you egged him on, wanting him to go so hard that he split you in half around his cock. 

“Oh, fuck,” you gasped, struggling to maintain any sort of grip on the headboard. 

“You’ve been holding out on me,” Changbin purred into your ear, sounding perfectly put-together despite the fact that he was literally drilling his cock into you. “All those guys you’ve fucked before, I would think your pussy wouldn’t be this tight.”

“You’re just too big,” you managed, crying out when he grazed a sensitive spot. 

“Oh? Is that why this little pussy is leaking so much?” Changbin asked, and you had no response for him, clearly fucked out of all rational thought as his hips slapped against yours in a bruising meeting of skin-on-skin. 

It was undeniable: you had never felt this full before...like Changbin’s cock was somehow reaching all the way to your guts, and you reached down to place a hand over your stomach, imagining feeling the bulge of his cock against the distended skin.

“How does daddy feel?” Changbin whispered into your ear, and if it was possible for him to literally destroy you, then it would be from that heavily suggestive question.

“So good,” you sniffled, tears falling inhibited, leaving your face just as wet as the place where he was crushing himself into you, repeating the same motion of leaving just the tip before re-entering you with added urgency, cock forcing its way between the slick walls of your cunt. 

It was a beautiful melodic song after that (or, perhaps, hard metal would be a much better genre), the rhythm of his hips rolling against your own, hard and then softer, bruising and fleeting, stuffing your pussy on every upstroke, holding you in place by his pure strength. 

You could feel that strength everywhere, the force of his cock squelching between your pulsating walls, the way you moved up and down the bed by his control, and, when you reached back with one hand to feel his arm, the flex of his biceps as his arms worked to move you however he pleased.

“What will your mother say, Y/N?” Changbin asked. “When she finds out that her daughter fucked the man next door?”

Your mother would absolutely lose her shit if she found out that you were willingly spreading your legs for a divorced 32-year old man who had a daughter you were meant to be babysitting. She would be even more taken aback to discover that you loved and craved every second of Changbin’s cock tearing you to pieces, stretching you so good that you imagined that you would still be gaping in the morning, desperate to have him fill you again. 

“Her little girl screaming like a slut for me,” Changbin hissed. “Say my name, Y/N.”

“C-Changbin,” you whimpered, feeling him roll to a slower pace, merely grinding his hips in circles as if teasing you for the answer.

You flinched and nearly cried when he smacked the fleshy part of your ass, trying to look back over your shoulder to see what you had done wrong. “Try again,” he said, giving you a meaningful look that your poor, fucked-out brain still managed to decipher; although, you were burning in your own skin at the thought of saying it out loud....

“Daddy!” you moaned, and Changbin suddenly reached down to catch a fistful of your hair, pulling your head back and forcing your back into an even deeper arch. 

“That’s right,” he sneered. “And Daddy’s about to ruin this pussy, fuck it so full of my cum that you’ll still be feeling it when you go back home tonight to your parents and lie about what you’ve done.”

Your next moan was the loudest of the night, overwhelmed by the nasty things he was saying to you, feeling your orgasm gaining speed and traction the longer he kept fucking you, cock moving at a neck-break pace, and fingers wet and hurried over your clit.

The combined friction of his cock and fingers had you reeling, struggling to keep yourself up as he pummeled you into the mattress. Taking great liberties in the screams he was forcing out of you, realizing that if he angled his hips with one of your legs stretched higher around his hip, then he could somehow reach even deeper, kissing your cervix and threatening to steal the breath from your lungs. 

More and More. Faster and Faster. Until the breaking point was right under your nose...

The next thing you remember is a release that was so intense, you managed to black-out when it was all over, pussy fluttering around the distinct waves of pleasure, barely coherent as Changbin continued chasing his own release until he fulfilled his obscene promise to you. 

Three Weeks Later

You had gotten awfully good at keeping Changbin a secret - a dirty and scandalous whisper at that. 

For a while, your mother questioned your insistence on going over to your neighbor’s house to babysit, especially considering your history of being less than willing to interact with children.

“She’s not like most kids,” you lied, waiting for your mother to relent before grabbing whatever bag you needed consisting of your overnight clothes, trying to appear as nonchalant as possible when you walked over to Changbin’s house.

Your mother watched you, at first, standing on the porch as if ensuring that you made it the dozen or so feet separating your yard from that of your neighbor’s. Eventually, she gave up on trying to catch you doing something you weren’t supposed to, but you still kept up appearances, ringing the doorbell and taking a few steps to the side to leave enough room for the screen to rotate on its hinges, offering you the irresistible view of Changbin standing there in all his glory. 

“You’re early,” he remarked; although he seemed to take great pleasure in seeing you as early as possible.

“Is that okay?” you asked with a knowing look, and Changbin chuckled while giving you his most arrogant smirk. 

In return, you smiled back at Changbin, watching him open the door just a little bit wider in invitation.

It was all you needed before surrendering yourself to whatever delicious and mind-blowing ecstasy awaited on you the other side.  

Summer of 69 indeed.