#bartender!chris

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐋𝐚𝐩 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Stripper!Reader gives Bartender!Chris a lap dance.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Sitting on the tufted barstool, you continuously swirl your cocktail. Watching as it tunnels in the glass, Chris pulls you out of your trance when he speaks.

“Looks like a lot more thinkin’ than drinkin’.” He pulls his mouth into a tight lipped smile, raising his brows at you.

The strip club was now vacant, other than the two of you and a few other girls cleaning up around the place. The rich purple and red hues casting a warm glow over you and Chris.

“Yeah, tonight wasn’t very good— money wise.” You exhale, letting the whirlpool of alcohol slowly come to a stop. Chris pours himself a glass of club soda, walking around to the other side of the bar and sitting next to you. “Club soda?” You question his drink choice.

“Mhm, I don’t drink.” He hums, nodding his head. Oh, the irony. A bartender who doesn’t indulge in the magic party juice. “Shit fucks you up. No offense to you, just… not my thing.” Chris explains himself, looking at you to ensure you didn’t take his comment as an insult.

You don’t. Actually, you understand why some people choose not to go out of their way to drink. But you? You’re a partier. Drinking, smoking, loud & obnoxious music. That’s your scene.

“None taken.” You sip the awkward tension that floats in the air away, biting the lemon wedge that hangs from the rim of your glass.

“Wasn’t that good of a night f’me either.” He looks around at the club. It was barely a mess, as if everyone disappeared. Not even a dozen men came in tonight and all of the dancers, including you, made just over one hundred dollars.

“So what? Should I make it a better night?” You ask him, a slight smirk pulling at your lips. Chris glares at you, a muscle twitching in his jaw as he does so.

“And how would you do that?” He leans his elbows against the bar top, turning to face you completely now. Sipping on your fruity drink, you communicate with your eyes.

“C’mon…” you stand, holding your hand out for him. He reluctantly takes it. Letting you lead him to one of the private rooms. You don’t notice it, but Chris is nearly sweating bullets. This was against all the club rules. He can’t help but eye you up and down, your skirt squeezing your curves, ass cheeks hanging out of the bottom of it. Your backless top showing off your shoulder blades.

“Sit.” You let go of his hand, gesturing to the suede couch in the dimly lit room. He nods, following your directions. His usual ‘tough’ persona faltering when he looks up at you.

A sultry beat starts to play throughout the speakers, you lean down, meeting his eyes. “You scared, bartender?” You smile. A genuine smile, not a fake performance smile. Chris feels a slight heat rise to his cheeks, a nervous lump forming in his throat. A completely unrelated bulge forming down south too.

“Little bit… but don’t worry ‘bout me. Do your thing pretty lady.” It’s barely a mutter. Is he allowed to touch you? Can he bare to look at you? Is this crossing a line? It certainly had to be.

“Well, you just tell me if you wanna stop, hm?” You reply with a hum, straddling his lap. You lower yourself just enough so he can feel your body heat but not completely sat on his lap, Chris’s eyes following your movements.

You run your own hands down your ribcage and down to your thighs, then back up. You can hear Chris let out a very subtle yet very frustrated groan. It’s clear he’s not sure what to do with his hands.

“You can touch me…” you lean in, your breath just barely grazing his earlobe. Chris lets out a sigh, his hands instinctually reaching for your hips. “You know, I don’t let anyone else touch me when I’m doing this.” Your voice is low, seductive even. Completely lowering yourself onto his lap, you roll your hips into his. Feeling just how much he’s absolutely loving this.

“R-really?” He tries to play it cool but there’s no hiding the fact that he’s completely and utterly in awe of you on top of him.

“Mhm… they don’t deserve to touch me.” His fingers dig deeper into your hipbones. A low grunt slipping past his lips. “You do though. Always so nice to me, hm?” You tease, running your hands up his chest and up to grip his shoulders.

“Just common courtesy. Respect, y’know?” His heart is pounding. You could practically see the cartoonish imprint of it beating in his chest.

“Really? This…” you grind against his hard length, your skirt riding higher up your thighs with each moment. “This doesn’t seem like respect.” Trailing your manicured nails to the nape of his neck, you run your fingers through his hair which causes him to buck his hips into yours.

You quite enjoy this actually. Not that you were dominant in bed- you were the complete opposite when you were off the clock. But being on the clock, getting paid to make men all flustered and nervous beneath you. It sends a jolt of electricity through your body each time.

“Eager, are we?” You breathe out, raising your self so you’re no longer sitting on his erection. Chris runs his hands up your body, his eyes burning holes into your chest which is only covered by a satin top that doesn’t leave much to the imagination as it’s all on show.

“Very,” Chris huffs, the room suddenly feeling much smaller than it did before. With you sat on his lap, he never realized just how much he needed you. And oh, did he need you.

“Why don’t you do somethin’ about it then?” You lean in, your lips hardly grazing his own and it’s the first time you’ve ever come in such intimate contact with him.

Chris hesitantly closes the distance between the two of you. It’s only a peck before he pulls away, gauging your reaction. You search his eyes, he’s doing the same to you, unspoken tension polluting the room.

Your lips curl into a smile before completely placing your weight on his lap and pulling him back in to your lips. Your hands rest on his t-shirt, his on the small of your back pulling you impossibly closer.

Other than the low hum of the music, the sound of lips smacking together and low groans bounce off the padded walls. Chris’s tongue glides over your bottom lip, his hand gripping your ass. “Are we really doing this?” He mutters against your lips. You can only hum in response, opening your mouth to allow him entry.

Chris wants to flip you over and take you right now on the small, ever uncomfortable conversation couch. But, this had already spiraled into a lewd scene for the workplace. He couldn’t do it. Not yet at least.

You regain your confidence, taking control, you lightly push him against the couch. Sucking and nibbling at his bottom lip to which Chris rolls your hips into his. The feeling of his jeans against his hard dick incredibly painful but oh, so pleasing.

You pull away, catching your breath. “Having a better night, bartender?” You ask as if nothing happened between the two of you just now.

“Much, much better. You?” Chris’s hands roam your body, resting back on your hips. You nod in response, getting up off of his lap. Your heels clicking against the tiled floor as you walk out of the room leaving Chris to wonder what the fuck had just taken place.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

[navybrat817]

On the Rocks

Pairing: Bartender!Ari Levinson x Female Reader

Summary: You're not sure why Ari doesn't seem to like you, but you two have to work together.

Word Count: Over 2.4k

Warnings: Tension, coworkers, bit of grumpy and sunshine, misunderstanding, future smut, Ari Levinson and he's slightly rude at first (he's a warning, okay?)

A/N: More Beach Fun Nonsense! Hope you lovelies enjoy this intro to my Gin and Bear It AU. @spectre-posts requested bartender!Ari to Go for a Swim (smut) with prompt #13 in bold. TECHNICALLY not smut, but there will be smut in future parts. Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

You weren't one to brag, but you were good at your job. You showed up on time and stayed late if necessary. Never dropped a tray or drink. Didn't skip out on cleaning or any other tasks. And not only were you attentive with your customers, you showed just enough skin to keep it professional and never went home with anyone at the end of the night. Your work ethic helped you earn the respect of just about everyone at the establishment.

Except for Ari Levinson.

You eyed the gorgeous bearded man behind the bar, your blood rushing faster through your veins. He didn't spare you a glance. He hardly ever did. Everyone else who worked there got a smile from him. Even a smirk. But you? An unimpressed look was what you got on a good day. You chalked it up to you being a new member of the staff, until the barback who started after you received kinder treatment from him.

To be fair, it wasn't like Ari hated you. He didn't seem to particularly like you either. For the life of you, you couldn't figure out why. Maybe there wasn't a specific reason. Some people just didn't mesh well. It didn't stop you from treating him like every other coworker. The two of you had to work together whether he liked it or not.

“Hey,” you smiled as you stopped at the bar and set your tray down. You waited a second for him to acknowledge you, but he kept drying glasses. “Three Jack and Cokes, please.”

That got Ari's attention. He didn't have to greet you, but you both had a job to do. You waited in silence while he made the drinks. He didn't look at you, but you looked at him.

He was in good shape. Great shape, in fact. With his large and somewhat intimidating size, you were surprised he wasn't a bouncer. He was a good bartender though. He wouldn't have a job there if he wasn't.

It wasn't right how attracted you were to him since he never seemed to give you the time of day.

“Thanks,” you said when he set the drinks on the tray for you.

He grunted and turned to put the bottle back.

“You know, we’ve been working together for almost three months. One of these days you may actually carry on a conversation with me instead of answering me with random sounds,” you teased.

“I'm here to work, not chat,” he said over his shoulder, his deep voice sending a wonderful shiver down your spine despite his statement. “You should do the same.”

You sighed when you picked up the tray. “I’m just trying to be friendly.”

Like always.

“Don't need friends.”

It was a bit of an odd statement. You said friendly, not friends specifically. “Aren't Steve and Bucky your friends?” You asked. They were two of the other bartenders. Best friends and good to the rest of the staff. Protective, too, always quick to jump in if a customer got mouthy or handsy.

Ari’s jaw clenched as he faced you, but you didn't cower. “Yeah, they are.”

You may not have cowered under his gaze, but you sure as hell felt small the longer he looked at you. “But you don't want to be my friend,” you said.

“I don't need more friends,” he said dismissively as your stomach dropped. You wished it didn't hurt to hear that and you had to blink rapidly when you felt a familiar telltale burning in your eyes. “Anything else?”

Plastering a smile back on your face that didn't quite reach your eyes, you straightened up. “Noted. We aren't and won't be friends,” you said before you added with more bite than you intended, “And don't worry, Ari. I don't need anything from you.”

He must've noticed the shift in your tone, too, since his jaw clenched harder than before. You walked off before he had a chance to say anything, cursing yourself inwardly at your tone. You shouldn't have let his dismissal get under your skin. Besides, he was right. You were there to work and your customers needed their drinks.

So, why did it bother you so much that Ari didn't want to be your friend? It shouldn't matter. There were lots of people who worked together who never talked or saw each other outside of their jobs. You wished he would've given you a chance, but you’d respect his decision.

For the rest of the night though, you planned to avoid him like the plague.

As your shift went on, you felt Ari’s eyes on you. Instead of looking back at him or giving him a smile like usual, you ignored him or acted like he wasn't there. You didn't stop at his end of the bar, going instead to Steve to get your drinks. For the first time since you started working there, you had Ari's full attention.

And for once, you didn't want it.

By the end of your shift once you wrapped up just about all of your tasks, you were ready to get out of there. “Any plans after closing?” You asked Steve, counting out tips for him.

“I might be seeing someone,” he smiled gently, his gaze flickering to a woman sitting alone at a table.

You raised an eyebrow. Patrons hit on the guys all the time, but it was rare for them to take anyone home. “Well, I hope you have a good time,” you said before nodding over to Bucky who was sitting at the bar, too. “Isn't it your night off?”

Bucky smiled softly. “It is, but my girl should be here in a few minutes. We won't stay long.” His girl had gone through some heartbreak before she rolled into town and the brunette quickly became her knight in shining armor.

“You have fun, too,” you said, sliding off the stool with a sigh.

Steve’s brows pinched. “You okay?”

“I will be,” you said, not wanting to lie to him and pretend you were fine. You also didn't want to get into what was going on. Feeling sorry for yourself didn't do you any good and everything would be okay tomorrow.

“You sure?” Steve swung his head toward Ari. “You think I didn't notice that you haven't been back to that end of the bar?”

You glanced in that direction, inhaling sharply as you met Ari’s gaze. He crossed his arms as he stared you down, tension as thick as fog. All you could see were the blue of his eyes and you had to look away so you didn't lose yourself.

“Just an off night. Nothing to worry about,” you said, pushing over Steve’s cut. “And I’m out for the night unless you need anything else.”

Bucky and Steve exchanged a look. “Need one of us to walk you out?” Bucky offered.

“No, I’m good,” you said, sighing again when you realized you’d have to pass by Ari to leave. You also had to give him his tips. “Enjoy the rest of the night.”

Ari stood in the same spot as you walked toward him, your heart beating erratically. One day he may not make your heart race like that. “Night,” you smiled sadly, setting his tips down on the bar and walking on.

You grabbed your bag from the backroom and headed out for the evening with your keys in hand, shivering at the slight chill in the air. It wasn't until you were about halfway to your car that you heard footsteps behind you, making you tense up. Maybe you should've had someone walk you out.

“Hey.” It was Ari. “Wait up.”

You stopped and turned to face him with a quizzical look. “Why? Do you need something?”

Ari looked up at the night sky and ran a hand through his long hair, but didn't reply. You were two seconds away from walking to your car when you heard above a whisper, “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?” You asked when he met your eye. “Sorry for what exactly?”

“I was an asshole to you earlier,” he replied, surprising you as he took a step forward. “Been kind of an asshole to you since day one when you've been nothing but friendly.”

“Yeah, I know,” you said. Why did it matter now?

A stricken look crossed his features before he put up his mask again. “Why were you so nice to me then when I was an asshole to you?”

You shrugged, trying to convey that it wasn't a big deal. “Because I had no reason to be rude to you, Ari,” you replied. It was that simple. “I was upset earlier though and I did avoid your side of the bar, but it’ll be fine tomorrow.”

“But-”

“You don't have to like me. You really don't,” you told him, the words bittersweet. “But we do have to work together. So as long as we’re civil to each other, it’s fine.”

You fought the urge to step back when Ari took another step forward. There was usually a bar between the two of you when you stood near him. Up close with nothing between you showed just how large he was. And he smelled good, too, because of course he did. “I never said I didn't like you.”

“Maybe not with words, but your actions kind of said it for you. Seriously, there’s an obvious difference in your demeanor with me versus everyone else,” you pointed out.

“Yeah, there is,” he agreed, his blue eyes full of regret. At least he acknowledged that.

“Not to mention, you just said tonight that you didn't need more friends. Between that and your attitude, the natural assumption is that you don't like me,” you said. What else were you meant to think?

He nodded. “I can see why you’d think that, but I'm sorry.”

Both of you stayed quiet for a moment. You weren't exactly sure what to say. “Okay, well. Apology accepted, I guess. Good night.”

“Wait,” he said when you began to turn away. “Do you really wanna know what I thought about you when you started working here?”

The skeptical look was back on your face. “I’ll admit I'm curious, but I won't just stand here if you’ll continue to be an asshole to me.”

He chuckled. Did you actually make him laugh? “I wouldn't expect you to,” he said, taking a breath. “This might get me fired if you complain.”

“Just say it, please,” you half begged. “Whatever it is, it can't be-”

“I wanted to bend you over the bar and fuck you ‘til you screamed my name.”

You sputtered, an embarrassing sort of sound. It wasn't what you expected to hear. Ari Levinson wanted to fuck you? Since the moment you met?

“You what?” You asked, wanting to hear him say it again.

“I want you and I’ve imagined fucking you all over the bar every day since you started working here. The tables, the booths, the office, against the wall, even in the bathroom stalls,” he spoke, his voice deep and confident as you tried not to whimper. How were you already wet? “But not just that.”

You bit your lip. “What else?”

His gaze softened. “I think about your smile. You have such a beautiful smile.” You did whimper this time. Since when was praise so important? “And how you giggle at bad jokes. And how you sway your hips to the songs you like. And how you're just so fucking kind, even to those who don't deserve it.”

“You like me?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he whispered.

You held up a hand, your head spinning from his confession. “Wait. Hold on,” you said, trying to get your bearings and not throw yourself into his arms. You needed to have some self respect. “You’ve been an asshole to me because you like me?”

Why do men do dumb things?

Ari winced. “Not my smartest plan, I’ll admit, but I thought pushing you away before anything happened was the best move.”

“Why though? Why push me away?” You asked.

He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I don't like to mix business with pleasure. Been there, done that.” It wasn't a secret that Ari was single, but there was a story there. “But that doesn't excuse being cold toward you. And if you’re willing, I’d like to start over.”

You searched his gaze for sincerity and found it. “So would I.”

His expression softened more, relieved. The fact that he wanted to try gave you hope for things moving forward. “And maybe we can grab a coffee at the diner? Just talk?”

Your eyes rounded. Was Ari asking you out? “When? Now?” You asked.

He smiled. “If you’re free.”

You smiled back and shook your head. “Nope. Sorry, Ari.”

Ari's smile fell immediately. “No?” He repeated the word in disbelief. You were in disbelief yourself. “No you aren't free or no you don't want to hang out with me?”

“Any other day, I’d love to have a coffee with you and talk or for you to make good on that promise of bending me over the bar and making me scream your name. But tonight?” You batted your eyes for good measure. “No, I don't.”

“Oh.” Ari blinked and cleared his throat. “I guess that makes sense after how I acted.”

“It makes perfect sense. A quick apology doesn't get you off scott free for how you treated me,” you told him, taking a step closer yourself this time. “So change my mind.”

“Change your mind?”

“Yeah. Let's start over like you suggested and you find a way to change my mind. I'm not saying you have to be overly friendly during our shifts, but treat me a little better. Show me why I should give you a chance and ask me again later,” you answered, gliding your fingers along his forearm once you were close enough. “And I'll still be nice to you. I promise.”

“So, you want me to woo you?” He smirked after a moment, one that nearly made your panties melt. “I can do that.”

You giggled. “I think I deserve it.”

“You do. And my first step in mending things,” he said, offering his arm as he stepped back. “How about I walk you to your car?”

“You may,” you smiled, linking your arm with his. You felt him flex a bit and you almost giggled again, a spring in your step as you walked. One day you’d feel him pin you down with that strength. You’d be patient though.

After all, he promised to woo you first.

How do we think he'll make it up to you? Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[hearts4werka]

BARTENDER!MATT HEADCANNONS

bartender!matt x mafiaboss!reader

nsfw content ahead, swearing, pet names, etc | wc 1,5k

English is not my first language, enjoy!

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐒𝐅𝐖 .ᐟ

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… first met you during one of your day-off’s at one of the events parties hosted at the bar he owns and works at as a bartender.

- I leaned against the top of the marble counter of the bar, a toothpick loosely hanging from the corner of my mouth, awaiting another guest to give me their order but also keeping an eye out for everyone until my eyes catch ahold of a woman, scanning the area around her cautiously as if seeking someone out in the crowded area until making her way over to my section of the bar I’m taking care of. She sits down on one of the chairs and sighs in exhaustion, her eyes telling me everything I need to know. “What will the pretty woman have?” I ask, tossing a loose cloth over my shoulder and taking the toothpick out of my mouth, softly throwing it into the bin closest to me, her gaze looks up at me and scans my face before speaking “One margarita, make it quick.” She demands, sliding a hundred dollar bill over on the counter as I prepare the drink. “Spoil yourself with the rest, sweetheart,” I chuckle at her generosity, now assuming she comes from the rich and thinks she is above anyone she comes across. “Oh How generous of you? but I own just enough money that I could buy that attitude off you” Her eyebrow raises in amusement, a shade of impress on her face as I slide the ready drink across the counter and she grasps the glass in her hand and takes a drink. “First time I’ve heard someone speak to me that way, mind revealing your mysterious identity?” “Matthew, the owner of the establishment you’re currently a guest in.”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… will create a special drink from one of your unique requests and put it on the menu, naming it something that reminds him of you as well as let you review the new items.

- I admire her face as I dry the freshly cleaned champagne glasses while she’s busy going over and reviewing the new menu, her eyes catching one of the new drink names, “The Killer Shot, really? That’s a name for one of the new drinks? Sounds oddly familiar.” She reads the name out loud as well as speak her opinion in a teasing tone, the one thing that really fascinated me about her is how honest she can be and careless with the words that leave her mouth, how well I can match her energy. “Yeah, cuz it’s your drink, sweetheart. After your wild drink request last night I decided to make it a real menu item and named it something that reminds me of you” I explain, leaning my body against the marble counter top which slowly became my signature move, she placed the menu down on the counter and glanced up at me with amusement on her face. “Didn’t think you could’ve listened that hard to my random wants but looks like one of us at least does”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… always finds a way to spike your temper, teasing you with the attention from other women he gets quite often which turns out into a whole jealousy fight.

- My hand tightly holds the metal bottle to not let the liquid spill from inside of the bottle, the feeling of her eyes following my every move with great detail causes a teasing smirk to tug on the corners of my lips, “Thats all you got up those sleeves?” She asks sarcastically, chuckling at how other guests who were standing the closest around also watched along, as well as other attractive women, “Didn’t think you would attract so many people’s attention with those moves” one of them walks up with echoing stomps of red bottoms and sits down next to my girl who immediately shoots her a small glare but she ignores her, with her hand extending to brush against my tatted arm, visibly seeming intoxicated and it becoming evident when she speaks. “Hey h-handsomee, you wanna get out of here?” I chuckle at her slurred suggestion, glancing over at my girl who already has hidden possessiveness burning in her eyes before going back to the lovely drunken lady. “Well I would love to, but it seems like I’m working so how about when I get off my shift?” “Oh cmon, if you ditch one day for a woman like me it won’t hurt, I promise to make it worth your time~” before a single word could leave my mouth, my girl cuts off my train of thoughts with annoyance dripping from her words as she shifts her gaze to the women. “—Am I invisible to you or did the alcohol get too much into your head, honey? I advise you move your attempts to seduce him over to the other section, that man is more into dirty hoes like you” just as soon as she came, she huffed offended and moved over to the other section of the bar including her little minions.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… loves to lighten the mood with corny dad jokes, sometimes being that stupid they just make you crack up and spare a single chuckle, even during a bad day.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… will get concerned for your well being whenever you’re in a bad mood, slightly terrified you would kill one of his guests at the bar.

- “Hello there, you doin’ fine? It’s not your usual time to storm into the bar, especially not this mad.”

“Give me some shots or I’ll actually burst a fucking blood vessel, you wouldn’t want to clean up any blood and body parts now, hm?”

“Jesus Christ— I mean yes ma’am, comin right up. Just don’t kill anyone while I’m gone, m’kay?”

“I’ll try at the least”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who... always whenever you mention a mission he is interested in, will beg for you to take him with you, secretly enjoying the image of how you would look shooting a random guy in the head.

- “Cmon, pleasee? I promise I won’t cause any trouble and I’ll stay out of most of it, I just want to see my girl in action!”

“No, I don’t want you tangled into this shit and I especially won’t be taking you on any mission that will put you in danger.”

“I’ll be just fine, I’m a grown man and can take care of myself!”

“I wouldn’t be so confident about that,“

“Hey! Don’t be a bitch now—“

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… is a total flirt and when you first met him, you thought he had at least three girlfriends and possibly a secret wife but you were proven wrong real quick.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… keeps you close to him and in his range of view whenever at any event or guest party (a mission or not) he won’t let you leave his side unless you absolutely need to.

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 .ᐟ

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… helps you relax after you’ve had an intense mission with some counter head after work hours with you laying down on the counter obviously.

- My arms held onto her thighs as my mouth continued to do sinful actions between them, attacking her cunt and entrance with mass skillfulness of my tongue while audible groans vibrate against her pulsing clit. Loud moans and whimpers escape past her plush lips, only fueling me for further torture, her tangled fingers tug roughly on my brown locks. “Yeah, I still d’know how to eat pussy, hm?” I tease, low chuckles grumbling against her as I don’t plan on pulling away anytime soon, “F-fucking, god— Matt…” she tries to speak but a pleasured cry stops her midway, never would have I thought when I first saw her all stressed out leaning on the counter she’s now become a whimpering mess on, “Use your words, sweetheart, cmon don’t be like a silent little mouse.” My words cause her to make her wetter which I immediately start to attack her pussy even more with my tongue.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… adores to whisper teasing words during sex, like those words alone could make you possibly have a full blown eargasm.

- “Oh I still don’t fuck better than he did? I’ll fucking worship this pussy like a goddess if I need to cause I can be better that him, you just didn’t see that side of me yet”

“Jus’ like that, ride my cock like the mafia boss you fuckin’ are. Fuuuck.. you’re gonna fuckin’ kill me with those hips like you do your rivals, sweetheart”

“Gonna be so good for me, hm? My little bossy slut is a huge moaning mess under me now, like it when I pound into you? When I slam my cock into your weeping cunt?”

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… is a whore for counter sex, no matter what counter it is, he is already bending you over it and getting ready to fuck the shit out of you .

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… gets really turned on whenever you take control, loving how you tease him and ride him roughly while taking your frustration out on him.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… for special occasions or celebrations takes some of his expensive liquor from his office at the bar and lets you pour some of it on his dick for you to lick and clean off him.

⊹ ࣪ ˖ bartender!matt who… as well loves some good old late night car sex whenever it’s in your car, his car or on the car instead of inside and loves how you look whenever you’re sprawled on the mask of your black Mercedes while his cum drips out of you.

Written by @hearts4werka | I do not allow plagiarism nor copying my work on to any platform, ‘inspiration’ without credits nor permission is not allowed as well, please be respectful!

— 𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐀’𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐏𝐀𝐃 📝 | this is inspired by @/cupiidk1lls lovely ch.ai bartender!matt bot which you should definitely go check out rn she’s totally amazingg and thanks to her for letting me use the idea so full creds goes to her, I have been going through some really rough shit right now and writing this didn’t feel that fun as it did before, I’m sorry if this is bad but the past month hasn’t been the easiest for me and especially now but I still hope y’all enjoy this.

𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒 🏷️ | @sturnsxplr-25 - @strnzzvsp - @luvvs4chriss - @sturniolosweetheart33 - @pussypie456 - @choclatestarfishwithahat - @venusxsturnio - @sturnstvs - @dykes4chris - @mattsbrat - @hoe4matt - @cayleeuhithinknott - @strnilolover - @marrykisskilled - @phone4pills - @emely9274 - @cupiidk1lls - @lily-strnlo - @nicksgirlfriend - @sturniolosiphone - @sophand4n4 - @zombiesturniolo - @luvleyangeldust - @owensbabygirl - @sturnina - @leoslaboratory - @ifwdominicfike - @kiemiu - @lovergirl4gracieabrams |

special tag(s) - @sweetshuga

[throatgoat4u]

introducing...

bartender!reader... 22. cocktails before males. cynical. doesn't like to play games. black and purple. femme fatale. fur coats. always has the post race drinks covered. straightforward. trust issues. doesn't believe in relationships. nightshift. confident in herself. lipstick lover. emotionally off limits. unapologetically blunt. races in stilettos. unapproachable. unnervingly calm. flirty but means nothing by it. loyal friend. observant. has a black cat named panther.

best paired with... streetcar racer!chris

a/n: another one down (i would’ve said another mexican down but if someone didn’t see the video, they’d think im being racist but i’m not. i swear. it’s just a funny tik tok audio). i actually fw her vibe so so so much. i could potentially do a little sub chris action with her character… maybe. i actually cannot stand sub chris. i feel like it doesn’t match his vibe. to the people who think chris looks submissive and breedable, you’re wrong… yeah! i should be studying rn 🫣. goodbye for now ig 🥲.

taglist: @snoopychris. @oopsiedaisydeer. @freshloveee. @evansturn. @izzylovesmatt. @sturns-mermaid. @adoreechxmpion. @desreads. @amterasuu. @pair-of-pantaloons. @rinnsgalaxy. @mr-wrinkleton. @courta13. @theyluvivi. @levidazai.

thank you to @issysh3ll for the dividers!

toodles {lovers} ♡︎

© throatgoat4u

[bigtreefest]

Outta Nowhere AU

Main Masterlist

How the chapters line up

Decks vs. Honeybee reader distinctions

You Catch More Bees With Honey

(Mob! Bucky x Farmer! Reader)

Handiwork

(Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader)

The Rainmaker

(Mob! Steve x Forensic Scientist! Reader)

[gnawingonleonsbicep]

chreon but chris is a bartender and leon is a barista.. like chris lives his morning coffee and leon always goes drinking on certain nights. They’re eachothers regulars.. 🧽

I’m hearing you loud and clear.

Chris getting coffee to get a start on his morning (and to have an excuse to see the cute barista.) and Leon going to the bar to unwind after a long day. (And to potentially try to flirt with the bartender.) ((He fails though cause he kind of sucks at flirting.)) (((Chris thinks it’s cute though so it kind of works.)))

And one night, he and his coworkers went down to the bar that Chris works at. One thing led to another. Leon got a little too overconfident and competitive, and he was WASTED. Chris ended up taking care of him that night cause they like kind of knew each other kind of, and “His shift was almost over anyways” (he clocked out early that night. Made up for it the next day by working his usual hours + what he had left of his shift)

And because it could’ve been a way to do a good deed and like maybe try to get to know the blond a little more. (Leon drunkenly proclaimed his affection for Chris and promptly forgot the next morning. Chris didn’t say anything, but he used it to his advantage to work up the courage to ask him out.)

Oh and Leon def drunkenly gossips to Chris about his coworkers.

[moeblob]

Despite charisma being a pretty important stat for paladins, Paul has no charisma in the base plot. So I decided it would be really funny to have him have super low charisma in game, too.

So the whole "roll a save" in town is because Karen and Paul want to visit a tavern for info and Chris thinks it would only be fair to bully Pauladin with an NPC version of his hot bartender depending on the save.

[55sturn]

send in some blurb reqs or asks abt my aus! i have some extra time and i wanna write a couple things to post over the next few days!

[metyouinthehallway]

𝐕𝐚𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐞

Bartender!chris x stripper!reader

(This the first REAL smut between the two🤗)

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Walking into the club, you’re met with a sea of red and pink. Balloons and cheesy decor litter the bar and stage. Tonight, all the girls— including you, dressed in pretty pink lingerie, some even going the extra mile and doing themed makeup.

When you make your way to the bar, you eye a single rose that’s housed in an empty beer bottle. Chris is too busy tending to customers to notice your presence until he whips around, nearly bumping into you in the process.

“Oh- hey! Happy Valentine’s Day.” He sounds just as surprised as he looks, a damp rag slung over his shoulder and his brows raised to meet the hat that sits on his head.

“Happy V-day!” You cheer, your lips curving into a warm smile. The music and chatter amongst customers withering away as the two of you hold eye contact.

“Here, for you.” Chris clears his throat, handing you the aged beer bottle, the rose poking out of the mouth of the glass. He looks almost bashful, like he’s unsure if this is too much.

“Chris,” you start, your smile slowly turning downward. You’d never received flowers before and the small gesture meant the world to you. “It’s beautiful, thank you…” your fingers toy with the petals, gleaming at the single flower before you.

“Mhm, y’know I had to get my favorite girl something.” Chris can already feel his dick jumping in his pants as he takes in the sight of you, barely covered in the sexiest lingerie he’s ever seen.

“Favorite girl, hm?” You chuckle, but before the conversation is able to continue, you’re pulled away from the bar. Your boss ordering you to start interacting with customers.

Soon enough, you’re on the stage, heart shaped decorations lousily hang from the ceiling tiles and faux rose petals are scattered on the stage floor.

Your fingers lazily wrap around the pole, men already fisting bills your way and you’ve barely even started the show yet. You know Chris is watching from afar, you can feel his gaze on you.

That’s what you want. You want the bartender to get worked up enough— both of you know he can’t do anything about it while on the clock.

You swing your body around the pole, using your upper body strength to raise yourself off of the ground. Wrapping a sultry leg around the cold metal, you twirl your body, contorting it in ways that only lonely men would pay for.

His eyes are burning into your skin. You can’t see him from the position you’re in but oh, you could feel the weight of his eyes as you prance around the dimly lit stage.

After what’d felt like hours upon hours of working, you’re bagging your tips, not bothering to count the bills. Once the night had come to a still, you’re clothing yourself, grabbing your car keys and heading to the sketchy parking lot.

“So, you just gonna go home? No big plans tonight?” Chris who’d been patiently waiting for you, leans against the side of his car, arms folded infront of his chest.

His voice caused you to jolt slightly, your fingers fumbling for your pepper spray before you realize who was speaking to you.

“Shit…! You scared me,” you chuckle, the February weather causing you to shiver despite the ginormous fluffy coat that clothed you.

“M’bad, pretty.” He lets out a breathy sigh, amused at your shock factor. He bites down on his lip ever so subtly, taking in your attire once more. “No plans tonight though… right?” He confirms, pushing off of the car and stepping toward you.

You shake your head in response. “Nope, not tonight.” The parking lot light flickers as you speak, arms now wrapped around your own body to preserve warmth and comfort— the parking lot always spooked you the most.

“Come over.” He shrugs, his voice carrying a sweet charm to it. It’s as if it was the most casual thing in the world, you going to his place. Come to think of it, would it be so terrible? The two of you have only ever interacted within public spaces. Perhaps the privacy of his walls would make you feel more comfortable.

“What?” You reply, Chris’s jaw tightens for a moment. For all he knew, he could be getting rejected on Valentine’s Day. How heartbreaking would that be?

“Come to my place. We can chill, have a shitty dinner together. Shit, who knows, maybe we’ll end up cuddling.” He confirms, you search his expression for a hint of sarcasm but it’s not there. He’s serious.

“Are you asking me to be your valentine?” You tease, a smirk playing at your lips when you realize what he’s insinuating.

“Nah, just figured if I’m gonna spend the night jerking off the the thought of you, might as well have you there, y’know?” The admission rolls off his tongue so naturally, like he holds no shame in his words.

Your eyes widen, your pussy already aching for him and he has yet to even touch you. Nodding your head, you take a step closer to Chris. “Take me to your place, bartender.” You peer up at him through your false lashes. He’d always towered over you but it’s not until now that you notice just how intense his gaze is.

The drive to Chris’s house isn’t long, three songs length. You counted. His hands fumble with his keys as he reaches to unlock the front door. He turns to look at you, desperation and forgiveness in his eyes as he opens his mouth to speak.

“I live with my brothers… Nick is probably passed out by now and I don’t think Matt’s home.” He turns the key in the lock, you can hear the door click open. You had no idea Chris had brothers. Now that he mentions it, you didn’t know much about him at all. You two only ever talked about you.

“Brothers?” You repeat as if you misheard him. He nods, holding the door open for you.

“Yeah, I’m a triplet. The youngest.” He chuckles at your amusement. You kick off your shoes at the door, noticing how fresh the house smells. Like linen and florals.

“Cmon, I’m down here.” He motions, leading you down the stairs to his bedroom. It’s much cleaner than you expected, there’s one poster thumbtacked to the wall, a rapper or something. A guitar tucked away in its case leans against the corner of his room.

“You play?” You ask, motioning to the sleek guitar case.

“Not in years.” Chris huffs in response, he takes your purse from your hands, placing it on his desk chair. “So, dinner. Whatchu thinking?” He changes the subject, plopping onto his mattress.

“Pizza?” You suggest, accepting the fact that Chris won’t be serenading you with the sweet melodies of his guitar tonight. He nods in response, watching as you hesitate to sit on the edge of his bed.

“Don’t be shy, y/n.” Chris chuckles, patting the space next to him. By the time you’d made yourself comfortable next to him, he’s already pulled his phone from his pocket and began browsing DoorDash.

“So… these brothers. Tell me about them.” You start, laying your head on his shoulder. You watch his thumb flit across the phone screen as he orders your dinner.

“Nicks the oldest, then Matt, then me. I dunno, I mean… Nick’s pretty loud and Matt’s real quiet. I’d say I’m a good mix.” He relaxes into your touch. His once tense shoulders now slumping as he becomes accustomed to your body.

“Mhm… and how come you’ve never told me you’re a triplet?” You continue. The questions spewing out of your mouth now. He hits order on the screen. Setting his phone on the nightstand and giving you his full attention.

“Never came up. Wanna watch somethin’?” He changes the subject once again. One arm snakes around your shoulders while the other reaches for his remote.

Chris puts on some random comedy, letting out a sigh of contentment as you snuggle closer to him. Your legs coming up to your chest and your full body weight leaning into his side now.

“Y/n?” Chris asks, turning to look at you.

“Yes, Christopher?” You look up at him, this is nice. The two of you, not in public. It feels almost domestic. Too domestic.

“We should get drinks.” He shifts abruptly, holding out a hand for you to take and leading you upstairs to the kitchen. A very simple very bland kitchen at that. White cabinets and a fridge decorated with coloring pages.

“Take your pick.” He opens the refrigerator door, revealing the plethora of beverages. Everything from Pepsi to lemonade and Capri-Suns.You reach for a lemonade, Chris going for a Pepsi.

“Who’s coloring?” You point out the neatly colored pages. It looks like who ever did them took their time and made sure to color between the lines.

“Us, we have hobbies y’know.” Chris teases, heading back to his room. Before he does though, he opens the front door, grabbing your food.

“I’m not judging! Just intrigued.” You defend yourself, following him around like a puppy. It doesn’t go lost on you that he locks the bedroom door behind him as the two of you re-enter his bedroom.

You sit cross legged on his bed, Chris doesn’t hold back, digging into the pizza, you doing the same. With Chris, it feels like you aren’t just coworkers. Maybe friends. Definitely more than friends.

His room is illuminated by a dim lamp and the tv that plays the forgotten movie in front of you. “So, rate this Valentine’s Day.” You take a bite of your food, watching as Chris removes his hat and places it on the nightstand.

“Couldn’t be worse. I got you here, don’t I?” Chris closes the pizza box, staring at you intently.

“Could it be better?” You rebuttal, your eyes glued to his as you take the last bite of your pizza.

“I mean…” he snorts, pornographic ideas playing on the film reel in his mind. You cock a brow at Chris, you’re a stripper sure! But does he think you’re the easiest woman alive? “Not that we have to-” he holds a hand up in defense, but you stop him with a giggle, your lips meeting his.

Your hand snakes to the back of Chris’s neck, deepening the kiss a little bit more before you pull away. “How easy do you think I am?” You bite down on your now slightly swollen lip, eyes peering at Chris’s lips for a moment.

“No- what? I never said that.” You can practically see the panic in his brain. He leans back against his headboard in defeat, his messy hair falling over his forehead.

His thoughts contradict his words though. He wanted nothing more than to have your bare backside against his sheets. He wanted nothing more than to see your brows knit together in pleasure— to hear his name fall gleefully from your lips.

“I’m messing with you, bartender.” You roll your eyes, your manicured nails tracing the hem of his denim clad thigh as you speak.

“I don’t wanna fuck you like you’re a stripper…” his breath hitches in the wake of your nails. He’s seeing you for you. Not the girl that spins around on stage for dirty money.

“So fuck me like I’m your valentine.” The seductive tone of your voice only causes Chris’s jeans to tighten around his crotch. He lets out a shaky breath as you crawl onto his lap.

“Y/n…” he mutters, his hands delicately placing themselves on your hips. The once neutral room now hot and heavy with tension. Chris is beyond nervous and he’s trying desperately to maintain his composure.

“Yes Chris?” You reverberate, running a hand up his arm, you deliberately roll your hips into his causing him to throw his head back and let out a low groan.

“Fuck…” he hisses through his teeth, guiding your hips with his hands. You lean in, pressing a kiss to his stubbled jaw, his body tensing in response.

“What’s the matter bartender? Nervous?” You tease, you’ve never seen Chris so stiff before. It was new— this was new.

“Not nervous, just unexpected?” His answer comes out as a question. His eyes meet yours again, this time there’s vulnerability behind them. “I don’t want you to think I’m like those guys…”

“I know you’re not, I wouldn’t be here if I thought any different.” Your voice is soft now, reassuring him that this is what you want. You didn’t want Chris to feel like he had to do this either.

You grind against his jeans once more, physically proving that you both want this. You can feel him growing harder beneath you and by the way you’re moving on top of him, he knows you’re feeling the same way.

“You aren’t one of my clients. We’re off the clock Chris, you can do anything you want to me.” Your words echo throughout his ears. You can see the rise and fall of his chest with each breath the takes.

He looks down at his lap, then back up at your eyes. This time, he searches them, his lips parted slightly as he struggles to find the right words.

“Are you positive? Like… one hundred percent?” He asks, his grip on your hips never tightens, if anything it becomes more delicate. Like you’re fine china on the brink of shattering.

You hum in response, your nails tugging gently at the hair on the back of his head. Chris finally gives in, pulling you close to him and connecting your lips in a desperate kiss.

Your lips move in sync with each other, parting your lips, you allow Chris to slip his tongue into your mouth. Tongues dancing together, he swallows your quiet whimpers. His own larger hand supports the back of your head as he pulls you impossibly closer to him.

Chris is quick to escalate things now that you’ve reassured him. His free hand roaming beneath your shirt, ghosting over your warm skin. You can feel his cock begging for escape beneath you, your own hands travel down to his belt, hastily unbuckling it and pulling it through his belt loops. The clatter of the metal hitting the floor heard from across the room as you toss it to the side.

Every touch is eager, both of you itching for the other. He pulls back for a moment, hands on the hem of your shirt. You nod, lifting your arms up and he wastes no time pulling your top over your head.

Your fingers move quick, impatiently fondling with his pant buttons, Chris flips you over, shimmying off his pants. His bulge hard to miss through his briefs, you look up at Chris who’s using one arm to support himself above you.

He grins like a lust struck idiot, placing kisses down your neck and collarbone, slowly pulling your bra strap down your shoulder as he does so. You lift up, letting him unhook your bra and exposing your chest to him for the first time.

He’s bites down on his lip in anticipation before attaching his lips to one of your nipples, sucking and flicking his tongue over the bud, his other hand kneading your free breast before switching attention.

“Chris!” You giggle, pulling at his hair, he leaves wet kisses in the valley of your chest. Trailing down to your tummy, his fingers toy with the waistband of your sweatpants, removing those too.

He continues his trail of kisses down to your upper thigh, neglecting where you need him most. You’re heat soaking with desire for his mouth, his fingers… anything. He peers up at your through hooded eyes, his tongue darting out to lick at your swollen bundle of nerves.

That elicits a whine from you, arching your back slightly off the bed. Chris lets out a soft chuckle, his tongue licking a flat stripe up your soaking cunt.

“So wet, hm?” He hums, spreading your legs wider, his arms wrap around either of your thighs. You nod in response, though he can’t hear it, he knows you want more.

Each flit and flutter of his tongue has you soaring above the stars. Chris knows how to work his mouth and it shows. Your thighs tighten around his head, your smaller hands grasping at his large ones, he intertwines your fingers with his, watching your face intently as he continues to eat you out.

“Shit…Chris!” You squeal, your hips grinding against his face and your grip on his hands tightens. He’s devouring you at this point. The only sounds heard from the room being your gasps and whines of pleasure mixed with his slurping and sucking. He’s completely enamored by the sight of you using his tongue to get yourself off.

Chris finally comes up for air, a smug smirk on his face as he takes in your state. “All good up there, mama?” His voice rough, you open your eyes, chest still heaving— to be met with Chris who’s chin is glistening with your arousal.

“Mhm…” you whine, bucking your hips against nothing. Chris quickly pulls himself out of his briefs, reaching in his nightstand for a condom. Impatiently, you wait for what feels like ages (it was really only ten seconds) for him to roll it onto his length. Your eyes nearly pop out of your head when you see his size.

He slowly pushes himself into you, your walls adjusting to his girth. Once he’s fully sheathed inside of you, he stills for a moment, dipping his head down to your neck.

“You okay?” He asks against the skin crook of your neck. When you give him the approval he needed, he starts to thrust in and out of you. Gradually increasing pace. Your jaw hangs open, letting breathy moans escape your lips. Chris has never seen anything more attractive in his life.

“So… so good!” You cry out, your nails raking up and down his back as he continues his movements. You feel almost exhilarated, Chris obviously knew what he was doing and he did a damn good job at it too. His own grunts of pleasure being muffled by your skin. He places a sloppy kiss to your lips, swallowing each others pleas of desperation.

Chris pulls out momentarily, flipping you over, your ass is in the air and face buried in his sheets. He grips your hips hard, sure to leave bruises tomorrow. The new position allows Chris to ram himself deeper into your pussy, your curses now being screamed into the depths of his mattress.

“Fuck, squeezin’ me so good pretty girl-” Chris praises, his hips slamming into your backside as each word leaves his mouth. Chris takes your hands behind your back, using them as reigns of support.

“Can’t…” you mewl, but that only meant you were barely holding on. Chris, could feel you tightening around his cock, your walls pulsating and he knows your on the brink of your orgasm.

“Mhm, I know you can baby, almost there.” Chris grunts, his hips full force ramming into your tight pussy. You wiggle your hands free from his grip, now grasping at the bedsheets, your back arching further as you feel yourself begin to give out.

With a few final thrusts, he has you spewing his name from your pretty lips, him shooting his load into the condom. he slows his pace, pulling out at an agonizingly slow rate, he ties the condom and tosses it into the bin. His full attention now on you again as he rubs comforting circles on your back.

“Holy shit…” he gleams at your fucked out state. Chris lets you fully collapse onto his bed, laying in the empty spot next to you. Neither of you exchanging a word for a while.

He pulls your body toward his, his front pressed against your back. Chris litters your cheek with kisses while whispering comforting words into your ear.

“So we’re definitely gonna start doing that more?” You confirm once you regain your composure. Turning to face him, you’re met with a very happy looking bartender.

Chris hums in response, lips placing a chaste kiss to your nose before speaking. “Happy Valentine’s Day.” He smiles at you, never loosening his grip around your torso.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

A/n: happy (late) vday to all u bartender!chris sluts <3

[anime-fyi]

A few captures from the second episode of Bartender Glass of God. Our episode brings two challenging customers, one an older man who doesn't take a liking to Ryu's initial offerings, the other a woman with an attitude that's hard to ignore. As one might expect from a brilliant bartender, resolutions do come, but it's a curious route to get there. This is slow so far, curious if things pick up in some meaningful way.

[victorriaaaaa]

Working on Chris fic!!

[felldowngirl]

I just think the general IRL public lacks a zest 4 life. Theres such a heavy nihilism in every sober working person i see where they r just. Miserable n obviously i am as well but like. Bro this shit sucks n we Have 2 suffer thru it or die rn but look at how beautiful these dandelions growing thru the sidewalk are. If u never Try 2 find the wholiness in small things i dont think ur soul willever get a break frm the constant capitalist grind....

[bigtreefest]

Chapter 1: Shuffle With Me, Houston Stranger

From: Handiwork Series

Pairing: Mechanic! Farmhand! Curtis x Bartender! Reader

Summary: Curtis keeps a busy life between helping out on the farm and running the garage. There are some moments and places that give him reprieve, though, and one of them happens to be a bar where a certain sweetie works.

Word count: 3,386

Content/warnings: not many, mentions of drinking and alcohol, bar setting, weird vague emotional states, another guy hopelessly head over boots (what else is new, y’all should know this is how I write all my love interests at his point), menacing foreshadowing

Author’s Note: this takes place at the same time as chapters 3, 4, and 5 of YCMBWH and chapter 1 of The Rainmaker. You can technically read it alone, but the other stories help fill in some gaps. Check out the rest of the AU!

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

Outta Nowhere AU | Series Masterlist | Next >

Curtis walked into the shop with sore shoulders and a slight ache in his heels from a long day of unexpected work and standing. His cousin had called him in to help out with a few chores at the farm since she had to run the Friday farmer’s market, so the day was long and tiresome.

The last thing he wanted to do right now was go through and double check his books for the auto body shop, so he decided against it. Even if he went through everything tonight, it’s not like it would be quality work.

He figured he’d just quickly make sure everything was in its place in the office and the garage to make paperwork easier for him on Monday and work easier for the guys in the morning. Then, he’d be able to join his cousin and her new farmhand at the bar.

Curtis was organizing his socket wrenches by size when he heard a rattling sound become louder behind him. He turned as he sensed it coming closer, seeing an old truck pull into his garage.

He looked down to check his watch. The shop had been long closed by now, and he had places to be. Based off the noise though, he couldn’t deny something was definitely wrong with the vehicle. If Curtis weren’t such a good man, he would’ve turned the patron away, but there was no saying how far a truck that sounded like that could possibly get.

He tilted his head, examining the vehicle and attempting to peer through the glare in the drivers side window when the engine turned off and he saw a pair of old, comfy shoes step down from the cab. His eyes traced up the body before him and Curtis was speechless. Your hair was just tucked under an old ball cap, nothing fancy.

“Hi, I hope you don’t mind, I’m not sure what this sound means and was hoping you had time to take a look at my truck. I know you guys are closed, so it’s no rush, but I’d really appreciate it. I’d rather know where my car is than get stranded out in the middle of nowhere.”

Curtis continued to stand there, mesmerized by you until he shook his head back into the present. “Oh, um, sure. I think I have the evening free, so let me just check on a few things real quick and I can take a look at it.”

Curtis pulled out his phone to text his cousin that he wouldn’t make it to the bar tonight.

He stuffed his phone in his back pocket, going to grab a chair from the front office as you followed. “Never good when a truck that old makes a sound like that.”

You nodded along. “Oh trust me, I know. Darn thing’s even older than me. Usually I’m able to figure out the minor stuff, but this is beyond what I know.”

Curtis nodded when he went to set a metal folding chair down by where you had pulled the truck onto one of his lifts. It scraped against the concrete floor, and he was surprised by the way you simply looked at it, as if you were offended that he’d want you to sit down.

“Oh, by the way, I’m Curtis, I own this shop.” The mechanic stuck out his hand, cleaner than you would’ve expected, and you shook it, introducing yourself.

“Ah, it’s nice to meet you. One of my coworkers actually suggested I come here when the truck started acting up. Said his best friend was the big cheese.”

Curtis laughed. “Um, he used those exact words? Or are those yours? Where are you from?”

You shook your head. “Oh no, sorry, those were my words. I think he just called you the boss, he’s the bouncer at the bar?”

Curtis clicked his tongue as he walked over to the hood of your car, propping it open. “Okay, you’re talking about my buddy, Edgar. Yeah, I’m glad he sent you to me. He works some shifts for me now and then. So you’re new to town? I go to the bar pretty often, I’ve never seen you there.”

You nodded your head tentatively. “Yeah, didn’t think it would be so noticeable I just moved here from Houston, but I’m really from here and there, lived almost everywhere. Been working at the bar for about a week now.”

Curtis nodded as he looked deeper into your engine, testing the tightness of parts and how full each fluid was. “Well how about that. Yeah, we don’t get too many people moving here, but I’m sure it’s a nice change from the city.”

You nodded and hummed, walking over and leaning under the hood of the car with him. “Agreed. I don’t think many mechanics would be this patient with me out there.”

Curtis lightly chuckled as he looked up at you over his shoulder. “Well I’ll be honest with you, patience is one thing, but you probably won’t think I’m very kind when I tell you this truck probably wont survive the next time you take a far journey if you plan to move…”

His small smile was replaced with a grimace. Maybe if he knew you were leaving soon like you seemed to do so often, he could hold himself back more. He could tell himself that there was no point in being attached, being himself for you to see. He’d hold off on the kindness that poured out to everyone he knew and loved, because it would hurt for you to take it and leave.

Your face held a small smile, though, despite his look of worry. “Well what if I planned on staying?”

Curtis looked back into the engine in an attempt to hide the redness in his cheeks. He was warm at the thought of you sticking around. He jiggled the loose part he found, grunting from leaning over so far, before he spoke up, partially avoiding your question.

“Well, you see this right here. I’d replace it and say it would be good for another couple of years.”

You beamed. “That’s good news!”

Curtis stood up to his full height and for the first time, you noticed just how towering his stature was. Anyone else would be intimidated from a distance, but from this proximity, you could see the kindness in his eyes.

“Yes and no.” It came out softer than he had intended. “I’ve gotta make a special order, and it will probably take at least a week to come in. Do you have another way to get to work?”

You nodded. “Yeah, my apartment isn’t too far from the bar. Walking shouldn’t be an issue.”

He looked at you skeptically. “Are you sure? I know you guys have some pretty late shifts.”

“Curtis, I’ll be fine. I’m tougher than I look.” He sighed in response.

“Alright, if you say so. I’ll put in for that part and in the meantime, your truck can stay here.” He walked over to the workbench and scribbled on a piece of paper, tearing it off and handing it to you.

“Here’s my personal number. In case you need anything at all, don’t hesitate to call me. I could even set up a ride for you if you change your mind.”

You took the paper, creasing it in the middle and stuffing it in your pocket. “Well, I’ve got a shift tomorrow and I think I might get there on time if I start walking now. Bit of a ways to my place from your shop. Any chance you could drive me home so I can sleep?”

Curtis sighed and checked his watch. “Yeah, I guess so, considering I’m holding your car captive. Come on, I’ll close up and we’ll get you home.”

As you waited for the new car part to be delivered to the shop, you kept working. Bills had to be paid. You had to keep living.

You were surprised the next day at work when Edgar had offered to walk you home after your shift, and every night after then, but didn’t question it. You were just appreciative to have a nice coworker you could trust.

Another surprise was the amount of take out orders that you’d have to give out from the bar. Most of which were going to a certain handsome mechanic.

It was Wednesday night, and the fourth time he’d come to pick up dinner this week. The man must really like cheese curds. You didn’t question it, though, as you handed him his order, asking for updates and waving goodbye with a somber smile as he left too soon, and spoke very little.

What you didn’t know was that Curtis had food at home, sitting in his fridge as he opted for the extra opportunities to see you. You also didn’t know how much he feared opening up his mouth and exposing himself by saying the wrong thing to the first person to make him nervous in a long time. Curtis was generally steady, driven, easygoing, but he could feel that world, that demeanor, start to tilt.

Curtis had a long week. A week much longer than he expected with the extra work he had to do out on the farm instead of in the shop. Sure, he was getting along better and better with Bucky, but that didn’t change the fact that there was too much going wrong.

Cole, that little shit from high school, was back and Curtis’s cousin had gotten stuck in a mine. There was no time for sleep, let alone stopping by the bar with this much of a crisis going on.

As soon as the rocks collapsed in the mine, Curtis was freaking out. “We have to call the police, the fire department, someone to get her out of there. She might not be injured now, but I can’t say the same if there’s a secondary collapse. We need to do something. Now.”

Bucky grabbed him by his collar. “No. No police. It’ll ruin everything.”

Curtis put his hands up in surrender. “Okay then, what do you suppose we do, big guy?”

Bucky paced back and forth, biting his thumbnail with worry. “Gimme a second. I’m figuring it out.” He stopped in his tracks. “Who all knows about the mines?”

“What? What does that ha-“

Bucky cut Curtis off. “Who. All. Knows?”

Curtis shook his head and shrugged. “I-I don’t know, not many people. Me and her, her college roommate, and Jake. That’s it, I think.”

Bucky rapidly reached into the pocket of his jeans and handed Curtis a card from his wallet. “This is my associate Sam. You’re going to call him and tell him those names. We’re gonna need all the help we can get.”

Curtis immediately pulled out his phone, trusting the judgement of his new friend. He called Sam, telling him everything he could about those who were close enough to have heard of the mines. After that, he got to work.

He assessed what all would need done in the next day and did as many small tasks as he could, staying up until he could greet the helpers on the way.

All Curtis wanted to do was sleep, this was taking a toll on him, but he did his best to not let it show, to not become a grump. He just put his head down and made himself useful while Bucky waited back at the mine. At the first available opportunity, he was going to drop into a bed and nap. This week was stretching him thin.

Meanwhile, you continued to work at the bar. After seeing him for several days in a row, it was concerning that Curtis seemingly fell off the face of the Earth. Surely that wasn’t your business, though. Maybe it was just a coincidence he was ordering food so often before. He had better places to be, like work, or maybe on a date.

Why would you care, though? He was just the nice guy fixing your car. There was no way he was going out of his way to visit; probably just had some late nights at the shop and that’s why he picked up dinner, not to see you. Anyway, work was always busy enough for your mind to be occupied. You’d at least see him again hopefully once that coveted car part came in.

After a much easier Saturday at the farm, Curtis was ready to have a nice, relaxing time at the bar. As the crew he came with went inside, he hung back to talk to Edgar. He clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“Hey man, how’s it going?”

Edgar patted him back. “Good, I’m good. Been walking your girl home like you asked. She’s working tonight.” A smirk crept onto his face as Curtis looked down.

“But besides that, what’s going on with you?”

Curtis sighed and pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket and unfolded it. He turned a picture of Cole Turner towards Edgar.

“Um, I’m alright. A little stressed, but I’m hoping you can help. I’ve got something for you.”

Edgar looked up from the piece of paper. “What’s this?”

“Someone who we need to make sure stays out of here. And if you see him, you let me know, okay?”

Edgar nodded. “Sure thing. Have fun with your girl.”

Curtis rolled his eyes and walked through the door to catch up with everyone else.

You were pouring out drinks for the group that came in when a familiar tall, broad form approached from the doorway. You took in the way his shoulders pushed at the flannel fabric of his shirt as he sauntered into the room. You couldn’t help the way the smile already on your face grew to see him again.

“Oh hey, if it isn’t the big cheese.” He laughed at the nickname, shaking his head as he moved to take a seat at the bar.

“Yeah, sorry I haven’t been in for awhile. Had some family matters to attend to. Speaking of which, that’s them over there.” He gestured toward the group who had just ordered food and drinks from you before heading towards the booths on the far side of the room.

“Ah! Okay, in that case, this is for you.” You grabbed a short rocks glass from the lower counter in front of you and set it up on the bar top in front of Curtis. The glass made a small thud against the finished wood as you looked at him.

Curtis tentatively grabbed it and sipped. After swallowing he hummed.

“Sweet. Like a cherry.”

You nodded. “Oh yeah. That’s because it’s got extra cherries. Your buddies over there said you’d drink whatever, so I made you my favorite.”

Curtis lowered the glass and looked at you deeply with his warm, burning sapphire eyes. His voice grew low and raspy. “I wasn’t talking about the drink.”

He winked at you and you had no idea how your legs didn’t fail you right then. You were able to quickly recover, though, shooting a remark right back.

“Maybe if you’re nice, I’ll let you test that conjecture.” You could see his cheeks grow warm at the suggestive statement. You grabbed your rag and threw it over your shoulder, leaning closer to the towering man who was just confident, now evidently bashful.

“Curtis, are you…blushing?”

His eyebrows were quick to arch as his attempt of a scowl failed to break through past a shy smile. “No! Blushing is fake. It doesn’t exist. That’s just an old wives tale.”

You looked at his skeptically, not even attempting to hide the laugh that burst out. “What do you mean you think it’s fake? You’re so red right now.”

Curtis’s eyes shifted around the room, unsure of how to respond. “I just feel really…warm…when I look at you.” He muttered so low you could barely hear it.

You wanted to keep pushing before his embarrassment made him turn away from you.

“Hey listen, I’ll be back. I’ve gotta check in with the group, but keep this stool saved for me?”

You nodded. “Sure thing.”

As soon as Curtis returned, he was glued to his chair. He spent the entire evening chatting with you, asking about your life, and telling you about his on the farm and at the shop.

You were honestly grateful for the one bit of peace on a busy bar Saturday night. Every chance you got, you were leaning against the counter by him to take a breath, watching his friends ride the bull and dance together. What a group of great people.

“So, have you been able to make it home alright this week? I’m sorry that truck part still hasn’t come in yet.”

You nodded as you poured a line of shots for a group of girls waiting on the corner. “Yeah, it hasn’t really been a problem. Edgar’s been insistent on walking me to my door, which helps me feel better when it’s that dark out. Just makes me feel bad, though, because I think I finish a little later than his shift time is supposed to be.”

“Well that’s nice of him. If you want, I can drive you home tonight. Might take some of that load off if you’re worried.” Curtis’s eyes watched you slide the shots to the patrons as you came back to his seat and sighed.

“Are you sure? I don’t want you staying here later than you have to, either. It’s really okay. I can definitely take care of myself.”

Curtis shrugged. “I don’t doubt that at all, Cherry. But I’m offering. And I’d be a fool to prematurely end one of the best nights I’ve had in awhile. I really don’t mind.”

“Okay, then. Sounds like a plan.”

As the night was winding down, and Curtis’s group had already come over to close out the tab, the two of you watched the remaining people prepare to head out. Who was Curtis that he knew someone with a black card? Supposedly they were business associates of the farm. Was farming really that lucrative? You guessed so.

You rejoined the present as the last few slow songs came on the juke box and Curtis held out his hand.

“You know how to dance?”

You scoffed, “Curtis, I’m still working. But yes, do you think I could’ve gotten by all this time without a little bit of knowledge?”

He shook his head. “I would’ve been worried if you did. Come on, there’s hardly anyone left. Shuffle with me, you little Houston stranger.”

You sidestepped the bar and walked out the small half door to join Curtis on the dance floor, holding both his hands and looking up into his eyes. “I’d say we’re hardly strangers now. You don’t learn nothing after hours of talking like that.”

You began to swing to the twangy music, holding each other close. Curtis twirled you and pulled you into his chest where your ear could hear his racing heart. The warmth and the scent of his cologne were comforting. His arms blanketing you, shielding you from all other thoughts besides this moment. As the song faded out, you realized you two were the only ones left besides the other employees doing the final tidying up before shutting down for the night. You reluctantly pulled your body from Curtis, left only holding each other’s hands.

“I should probably go help with the closing duties. Can you wait for me by the door?”

Curtis nodded. “Of course. I’ll be ready whenever you are.”

Curtis watched you go back to your cash register as he walked back towards Edgar, keeping an eye on you the whole time.

“So, anything interesting happen tonight?”

Edgar nodded with with wide eyes. “Um, yeah. That guy you gave me a picture of, he came by. Threw a fit when I wouldn’t let him in. Some dude in fancy clothes and a mustache was with him, too. Not sure what that was about, but they at least respected the badge.”

Curtis huffed and nodded. “Okay, thank you.”

This was not good. Curtis pulled out his phone and texted Bucky.

Next >

Bonus A/N: Tbh, even I don’t know where this story is gonna go, but I love Curtis a lot and will need some time to find a niche plot that will do him some justice.

I hope you enjoyed. Comments, reblogs, and likes are sooooo appreciated.

[the-togepi-man]

Let's go to hawk knob Appalachian hard cider make out in the restroom

I love Hawk Knob... ho... how did you know Sean and I were talking about this again

[himbosandhardwear]

Steddie I 2.1k I different first meeting I modern au I one sided enemies to lovers I rated T

“I mean, if looking like a dyke is the goal, you're nailing it,” Steve tells Robin as she holds the phone back to showcase her date outfit. “Change the belt, I think-”

He hears a throat clear behind him and spins around to find Eddie the bar manager standing behind him, a blank face and closed off body language.

“Shit,” he mumbles. “Rob, I have to go. I'll text you after work.” He hangs up on her and stuffs his phone into his back pocket. “Sorry about that. Hi, you must be Eddie.” He holds out his hand to shake but Eddie just looks at it. He lowers it, the sting of rejection biting low in his stomach. “Um. Harvey said you just got back from a tour? That's cool.”

“Mmhmm.” He sniffs. “You're on garnish duty,” he says, cold and succinct, before turning away.

It's only Steve's third day behind the bar but he'd been slinging drinks with Rachel the night before. Barback duties are beneath him, he's got six years bartending experience. He doesn't want to complain though, not to Eddie who hated him on sight, and not during his first week.

They stay out of each other's way for the first half of the night, Steve relegated to the back, slicing limes and making the pre-mixes.

He's not used to being hated so thoroughly like this. Eddie hasn't uttered a word directly to Steve since sending him to the back, but he catches Eddie's eye a few times and it's like ice water down his back. The people-pleasing little boy in him wants to cry but he's a grown fucking man, he's not going to let this bother him. Just because he was looking forward to meeting Eddie, wanted to make a friend here, wanted to get to know the guy who managed the bar when he wasn't shredding across the country. Maybe if the owner hadn't talked Eddie up like he was the next Chris Martin…or whoever the metal equivalent of that would be. And, yeah, he'd seen the photos of Eddie, the Polaroids behind the bar of him with staff and guests, and thought he was stupid hot, with his tangled curls and the dimples, and maybe he'd had some inappropriate thoughts about his in absentia boss, and maybe he'd fantasized about flirting at the end of the night, and maybe-

Anyway, it's all good. Eddie doesn't owe him kindness or friendship or a single dimpled smile. Sometimes people just don't get along and that's okay.

“Your Fernet,” he mumbles as he sets the bottle at Eddie's elbow, head down like a dog that's used to booted feet. He feels like an idiot but Eddie's frosty demeanor feels like it's balanced on a knife's edge, like he could tip over into a blazing explosion if Steve says or does the wrong thing.

Eddie doesn't thank him, just snatches the bottle and walks away.

“You're welcome,” he snarks under his breath after Eddie's well away.

“Can I get a rum and coke?” A guy asks over the counter.

Steve hesitates. He's not welcome at the bar, Eddie has made that abundantly clear, but he wasn't hired as a barback, he's a bartender, so he smiles at the guy and starts making the drink. Eddie is busy at the other end of the bar anyway.

“You're new,” the guy says, making conversation as Steve works.

“Yeah, it's my first week.”

“You liking it so far?”

Steve glances down the bar, watching Eddie shake a cocktail like he's fucking Tom Cruise or something. His face lights up at something the woman he's talking to says and the crack of his laugh travels the length of the bar, punching Steve right in the stomach. His dimples are really something to see in motion.

“Jesus Christ, I wanna wrap you in tinsel.”

Steve whips his head back around. “Huh?”

The guy chuckles. “Because you're pining so hard. Get it? Pine-ing.”

Well shit. He deflates. “That obvious, huh?”

The guy accepts his drink with a shrug. “Maybe not to everyone but to a…certain demographic…” He gives Steve a little limp wristed wave, which makes Steve crack a laugh.

“I'm Steve, by the way,” he holds out his hand, which the guy takes easily, unlike some people.

“Cary, like Cary Grant.”

“Or Cary Elwes.”

“Exactly.” He leans a ways over the bar and mumbles, “Don't look but your boy is watching us.”

Steve forces his body to not stiffen up. “Does he look mad?”

“No. Confused if anything. Pretend like I just said the funniest thing you've ever heard.”

Steve, always down for shenanigans, tips his head back and fakes the loudest howl he can without being too over the top.

“Oh, you're good. He's got his eye on you, doll. Make the most of it.”

Steve leans into the shared space, eyes half-lidded. “I hope he's seething with jealousy. He could've had me six ways from Sunday but instead he decided to hate my guts at first sight.”

“What an absolute dumbass.” Cary reaches up and taps Steve's collarbone. “If I wasn't already taken, and you weren't pining like a Christmas tree, we could've ridden into the sunset together.”

“If only,” Steve agrees with a soft laugh.

“We're out of Matcha.”

Steve jumps out of his skin. Eddie is standing three inches from Steve's side, eyes burning into him like he just caught Steve keying his car.

“Make your own Matcha,” Cary snarks, “Steve and I are getting to know one another.”

Without breaking eye contact with Steve, he growls, “I think Tony, your fiance, would prefer it if Steve made the Matcha.”

Chills run down Steve's back and arms but he maintains composure. “On it, boss.”

He slips out from under Eddie's gaze, finger waving to Cary on his way back to the kitchen. He can hear Eddie chastising but he chooses to ignore him in favor of hyperventilating in the walk-in.

“What the fuck.”

Eyes like black flames, licking up the side of Steve's neck. Collarbones raising and lowering in the light of the bar as his chest moved with each breath. Hands clenched at his sides, white knuckled.

That wasn't cold at all.

He moves on autopilot for the rest of his shift. Eddie doesn't talk to him again but Steve can feel his eyes on the back of his neck, raising the hairs and keeping him from forgetting Eddie’s existence.

Towards the end of his shift, just before midnight, he hears Robin calling his name from the bar. He comes out of the kitchen, happy to see her waving him over, excited to introduce her date. He probably shouldn't encourage this behavior, it's his first week after all, but the restaurant is closing and the bar is empty.

“Hey, you must be Chrissy,” he greets the petite woman at Robin's side, takes her tiny hand in his and gives it a firm shake. “Pleasure to meet you.”

“Same! I couldn't believe it when Robin said you'd just started here. Like, it's a crazy coincidence.”

He cocks his head but before he can ask, Eddie comes bounding over from the other side of the bar and lifts Chrissy up off her stool, swinging her in a circle while she shrieks with laughter.

“Apparently Eddie is her best friend,” Rob fills him in, sort of unnecessary at this point. Steve wouldn't have been able to imagine Eddie looking so happy, he'd been so sour faced all night. Even when he'd been laughing with the customer earlier, it was only a fraction of this.

“Tell me everything,” Chrissy is saying after he puts her down. “Last I heard you loved Cleveland and hated Boston, which I maintain is insane.”

“And I maintain you didn't have to navigate the Boston roadways with Boston drivers,” Eddie argues, still grinning. “But it was great. Exhausting but…yeah, fucking awesome.”

“I'm so proud of you, Eds. You deserve it.”

He actually fucking blushes, which is devastating to Steve's crush. Just devastating.

“Shut up,” he mumbles. “Oh, sorry, you must be Robin. Thanks for bringing Chris to see me.” He shakes her hand, not hating her on sight, Steve notes.

“No problem, but I didn't, she brought me here to see the Dingus.” At Eddie's confused look she throws a thumb back at Steve, who waves.

“Yeah, hi. Your best friend is dating my best friend. Sorry. Guess that means you're stuck with me.”

His frown doesn't abate with this explanation.

“Because they're lesbians. She's gonna have me helping her move into Chrissy’s place in, like, a week.”

“Shut up!” Robin reaches across the bar to slap the shit out of his arm and then tosses a lemon wedge at him when he jumps back out of swinging range. Chrissy giggles at them.

“Knock it off, I worked hard on those.” He picks the wedge up off the floor and tosses it into the trash. Three points.

When he looks back up, Eddie is staring at him, wide eyed.

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Steve questions.

“Ohhh.” He presses his wrists into his eye sockets.

Steve looks at Robin and Chrissy in confusion but they're both as lost as him.

“I'm an asshole.” He hasn't removed his hands yet.

“Yes,” Chrissy agrees immediately, “what did you do, Eddie?”

He finally looks up at Steve, who takes a step back, involuntarily. They stare at one another for thirty seconds. Or two days. He's not sure.

“Eddie?” Chrissy prompts again.

“I-” He turns around and walks away.

Chrissy rushes after him and yanks him back. They get into a tug match, which Chrissy wins, somehow.

“I love her,” Robin mumbles.

“I fucking said. Less than a week.”

She slides a look his way, one that reads ‘Like you're any better.’ He shouldn't have told her about his plan to seduce his boss, who he hadn't even met yet.

“Whatever you did, you apologize right now,” Chrissy commands to a pouting Eddie.

Steve stands there, eyebrows up, as Eddie grumbles an apology that would do an eleven year old Dustin proud.

“What is happening right now?” He wonders aloud.

Eddie folds his arms across his chest, his black button down stretching across his shoulders beautifully. “I heard your conversation with Robin earlier. You said something about her looking like a dyke and…I made an assumption on the kind of person you were. And I was an asshole to you because of it. I'm sorry.”

“Oh,” Steve whispers in understanding. A weight lifts off his chest. “Fuck. That's hilarious.” He can't stop the giggles from erupting.

“Okay, in my defense, most straight guys don’t get a pass.”

Steve and Robin look at each other and crack up. He wants to ask what Eddie thinks was going on with Cary if he assumed Steve was straight but Robin shrieks, “You think I would hang out with a straight man!”

“Hey! You did hang out with me when I thought I was straight!”

She shakes her head like a smug asshole. “Debatable. You've always been a lil fruity. Tommy H? Whatever that was with Billy? C'mon.”

Steve takes a turn at slapping her. When he looks back up, he finds Eddie looking at him like a kid who just found coal in his stocking, dark eyes wet and bottom lip desperately trying not to pout.

“Holy shit, stop making that face,” Steve begs.

“I can't.”

Chrissy leans up on her knees, wobbling precariously on the stool, to physically push his lip back where it belongs. He smacks her hand away and then puts his own back up to his eyes, pushing hard.

“This is divine punishment. The universe sensed I was too happy so they sent you to test me. Big fat F, just like always,” he mumbles, nonsensically.

Steve looks to Chrissy to translate.

She puts a finger to her chin, looks between the two of them, and then concludes, “He thinks you're hot and that he ruined his chances by being a prick.”

“Chrissy!” Eddie's shriek puts Robin's to shame.

But he's not denying it.

Steve makes extremely pointed eye contact with Robin and says, “It's getting late. Eddie and I have to close the bar. You should see Chrissy home.”

She nods, slow and then quick, as the message lands.

“Yes! Yes, let's get going. Leave these guys to…close the bar.”

Smooth.

They giggle the entire way out the door but Steve ignores them. Eddie is staring again, dark eyes pinning him to the mirror behind the bar.

“I was going to ask earlier but I didn't think it was appropriate…”

Eddie swallows, throat bobbing. “Ask what?”

“What's the company policy on fraternization?”

As a former jock, Steve is thoroughly impressed by Eddie's form as he vaults the bar.

[moeblob]

There was a post I saw about someone who mutually ghosted a guy after a date and kept matching with him and they're not interested but it's the longest "relationship" the person had been in at that point and I'm like. Karen would mutually ghost someone.

She doesn't really tell Brent/Right/Evelyn/Chris his name (he has a double first name, Patrick is not his last name) and just refers to him as "My Guy". Like "Ah damn, My Guy matched again. End my suffering." And when she tries to explain it to Right who does NOT understand how it's different, her logical answer is "it's my God given right to ghost a polite man!"

Also I just imagine her confiding in Paul about Rick and he's like "is his name Patrick" and she's like "kinda". And after that, Paul calls him "Pattycakes" cause he's never even seen the guy so why not give him a funny little nickname. He's allowed to do so at this point probably.