#bartender data

[dat4l0re]

[davidlipanarizona]

David Lipan Arizona - A Skilled Bartender

David Lipan Arizona, who polished his bartending skills while living in Tucson, Arizona, is a versatile professional. Graduating from the University of Arizona, he embarked on a journey to excel in various industries, from serving to data analytics, always seeking innovative solutions.

[anto-pops]

Midnight Rendezvous - Sylus x Female!Reader

Summary: An unmistakable tension has always existed between you and Sylus, and despite trying, you’ve never been able to make much sense of it. He’s haughty, arrogant, and too attractive for his own good. After he intervenes and saves you from a questionable situation during a girl’s night out, he whisks you away to his house despite your protests. You want to hate him— you want to be mad at him— but it’s increasingly difficult to fight against your desires, and before long… you stop trying. 

Alternatively summarized as you and Sylus having steamy, passionate sex for the first time. 

Word Count: 13.9k

Warnings: 18+, explicit sexual content, rough sex, size difference

Full fic can be found here on Ao3 (with more diverse tags)

The Midnight Bar was, for all intents and purposes, an eclectic melting pot for all of Linkon’s denizens. With its colorful strobe lights and intense, pounding music that poured from the open doorway, it beckoned to any and all passersby, tempting them to set foot past the threshold and lose themselves in the sea of bodies that congregated on the dance floor. More often than not, you dismissed your repetitive, fleeting inclinations to come here for a night of fun. It was easier to justify your homebody tendencies with countless excuses that all pertained to work. But not tonight. 

No, tonight you wanted to let loose. You wanted to cast aside your worries and obligations for a few hours, to have a few fruity cocktails that you knew would have you on your ass tomorrow. You wanted to dance until your feet throbbed, until your back ached, until your ears rang and drowned out the never ending cacophony of concerns that plagued your mind.

Life was… complicated. You wanted to forget about it all for once. You wanted to be selfish. 

Tara had mercifully agreed to accompany you to the club. Phrasing it as a ‘girl’s night out’ had certainly helped matters, and her light-hearted aura would do wonders for your fluctuating emotions. It was easy to stay level headed when she was around, and you found yourself wondering if the data analyst was even aware of her influence. 

From your rooted position on the dance floor, you could see Tara at the bar waiting dutifully for the drinks she’d offered to buy, chatting with the burly bartender all the while. You knew you had no business drinking anymore– you’d had three of those strawberry whatever’s already– but the night called for it, and your clammy palms craved the chilled feeling of the thick, cocktail glass more than was probably healthy. The steady ebb and flow of the music had you moving in sync with the crowd around you flawlessly; your hips swayed, your arms languidly rose above your head, and your eyes fluttered shut as you rolled your head back to toss a few strands of hair out of your face. 

Nothing else existed to you in that moment, and you were more than willing to ride the brainless high for a while longer. Wanderers, Grandma and Caleb, The Hunter’s Association, your heart condition… all of it was inconsequential. Every thought that entered your mind dissipated into nothing just as quickly as it appeared, and the last thing you planned to do was squander a second of the reprieve. 

That is, until a warm, broad hand appeared on your waist. 

Your eyes flew open at the same time you looked over your shoulder, and your field of view was instantly obscured by a familiar chest clad in a black and red button-up shirt. A smokey, almost spicy cologne flooded your senses, and you recognized the scent even before you craned your neck back to meet Sylus’ imposing gaze. He looked the same as always; annoyingly attractive. His pale hair was effortlessly combed off his forehead to showcase those ruby-red eyes that had once imbued you with a healthy dose of fear. Now though, the sight of them only stoked the flames of rebellion within you. 

What the hell was he doing in Linkon City? Why was he here of all places? 

“All this time and I only ever had you pegged as an indoor cat,” his sultry voice reverberated against you as he bent down to speak directly against your ear, and much to your dismay, you shivered involuntarily. “You never fail to surprise me, kitten.” 

On shaky legs, you managed to step out of Sylus’ reach, his fingers trailing across your hip until you were far enough away that his hand fell back to his side. His expression was the usual smug variant you typically saw plastered to his face, and he cocked his head to the side as he took in your disheveled appearance. For whatever reason, your confidence from earlier seemed to vanish completely, and you found yourself feeling incredibly self-conscious having him see you like this. There wasn’t a doubt in your mind that you looked… messy. The thin sheen of sweat on your face had your hair clinging to your cheeks for dear life, and the thrum of liquor in your veins warmed you so thoroughly that you were confident you were flushed from head to toe. 

Out of everyone that could have possibly crossed your path tonight, why did it have to be him? You would have preferred that Zayne walked in to chastise you for your poor life choices rather than the puffed up, Adonis-incarnate before you now. Stupid Sylus with his stupid, attractive smile and his stupid perfect body. 

Having stared at him for long enough, you mercifully didn’t slur your words when you bit out, “What are you doing here?” 

“I think I’m the one who should be asking you that, Miss Hunter.” He easily closed the minuscule distance between the two of you with half a step, gingerly putting the back of his hand against your forehead to gauge your temperature. You swatted the appendage away and scowled, your irritation rising when he smirked in response to the motion. “What will people say when they hear that Linkon’s valiant defender is drunk in the club on a Thursday night? Have you finally tossed away your self-imposed restrictions to join the rest of society in debauchery?” 

“I’m not drunk,” you retorted, and the dry look Sylus shot you conveyed just how willing he was to believe you. “I’m not! I’m just having a bit of fun. I don’t work tomorrow, so Tara and I decided to have a girl’s night out. Which means you can’t be here.” 

“Can’t I? Or will you run to the nearest police officer and tell them that the leader of Onychinus showed face at the Midnight Bar? I didn’t think you had it in you, sweetie.” 

To hear him even suggest such a thing made your stomach sink into the floor, and you stood up straight as you nervously glanced around the room to make sure no one had heard him so boldly announcing his title. “Quiet down! I swear it’s like you want to be caught. I wouldn’t do that, I just– why are you even here? Shouldn’t you be at home?” 

At home clearly meant the N109 Zone, but Sylus picked up on your shrouded speech well enough. He fluidly shifted to allow a cluster of younger girls to dart past him through the crowd, but his eyes never wavered from yours. “Why else would I deign to grace Linkon City with my presence? I’m here on business. It’s since concluded, but I wanted to grab a drink. I wasn’t expecting to find you in the middle of the dance floor all by yourself.” 

Your tipsy brain was slow to process all of his information, the most prudent of which had to do with who he was discussing business with in this part of the city. You didn’t even bother to ask, though. Sylus could avoid your questions like he was born to do it, and you were painfully aware of how much he loved to goad you. Better to let the matter rest… for now. 

You crossed your arms over your chest– suddenly acutely aware of the plunging neckline of your dress– and did your best to sound firm. “Well, don’t stop on my account. Go get your drink so I can go back to what I was doing.” 

Those eyes of his were predatory in every sense of the word. You may as well have been naked with how vulnerable you felt on the receiving end of his unrelenting stare. “And leave you all alone here? Perish the thought.” 

Right on cue, you spotted Tara’s familiar head of hair bobbing and weaving through the crowd, both of her arms raised to protect the integrity of the two cocktails she held from the ever shifting sea of bodies. You instantly relaxed at the sight of her, and if Sylus’s raised brow was anything to go by, he noticed your change in demeanor almost immediately. He glanced over his shoulder in time to spot Tara emerging from the throng of bodies, one of the drinks in her hands already outstretched towards you. 

“The wait was crazy, but the bartender was really nice!” She had to shout over the roar of the music, an easygoing smile already playing on her lips. You took the offered beverage from her while she continued, “He gave me his employee discount for both of the drinks. I think he liked–”

You knew the exact moment Tara noticed the six foot two giant towering over you, her brown eyes becoming comically wide as she shifted her weight to look up at Sylus. Recognition flashed across her face, and for a brief moment you felt a genuine surge of panic. But then her expression smoothed out, and she gently patted Sylus’ shoulder in a friendly greeting. 

“You’re Skye, right? It’s been forever! What are you doing here?” 

Skye? You were confused for all of two seconds until you remembered the one and only time Tara had ever met Sylus; at the hotel all those weeks ago during your team building exercise. You thought he had been pretending to be a fruit vendor, up until he let you know that he would order more of the watermelon served there that you loved so much, cluing you in on the fact that he had some kind of dealings with the establishment. The enigma of a man seemed to have his fingers in damn near every pie in Linkon and the N109 Zone. 

Was nowhere safe from his influence? Honestly… 

The conversation between your two acquaintances had continued in the midst of your reminiscing, and Sylus pinned you with a knowing look, which brought yet another scowl to your face. “I’m just passing through. I happened to see Miss Hunter over here looking incredibly lonely, so I decided I’d come and say hello.”

Liar. “I already told you I was here for a girl’s night out. As you can see, the girls are back together and in the middle of something.”

Tara’s glassy eyes lit up as the worst idea imaginable came to mind. “I don’t mind if you want to hang out with us, Skye. You can be one of the girls for the night if you’d like.” 

The giggle that slipped out of Tara spoke volumes of her inebriated state, and you opted to blame all the alcohol for giving her enough courage to invite a borderline stranger into your circle. If she knew the truth about the man standing mere inches away from her, you knew her tone would change in an instant. Thankfully though, Sylus interjected before you got the chance to, seemingly on the same page as you for once. 

“Thank you for the invite, but I can’t linger tonight. You two have your fun, I’ll be at the bar for a bit before I need to head out. The fruit business never sleeps, I’m afraid.”

The ease with which he lied out of his ass was something that needed to be studied by professionals, you were certain. Still, you were grateful that he was taking pity on you and excusing himself, though you had to admit you were… surprised by it. The Sylus you knew wouldn’t turn his nose up at a chance to taunt you and keep you on your toes. Even though he had revealed sides of himself to you that you hadn’t expected, at the end of the day, Sylus was an instigator at his core. 

Red eyes glittering with mirth met yours for the briefest of moments before the Onychinus leader turned on his heel to head for the bar, and the crowd of people that surrounded the three of you seemed to part for him effortlessly. Countless heads turned to watch Sylus as he went, women and men alike staring after him with varying degrees of attraction and envy written across their faces. You could hardly blame them. 

Men more than likely wanted to be him, and women no doubt wanted to be with him. He seemed to have that effect on everyone he crossed paths with. 

“Is there something going on between you two?” 

Your head swiveled back towards Tara so fast, the movement practically gave you whiplash. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

She playfully shoved your shoulder, which only succeeded in pushing herself away from you as she stumbled back a step. No more drinks for her, you thought to yourself. “Oh come on,” she drawled. “The tension between you and him is thick enough to cut with a knife. Plus the way he stares at you? I would melt if I was on the receiving end of those eyes.”

Thoroughly fed up with the conversation already, you simply shook your head and brought your drink to your lips, your eyes unconsciously seeking Sylus out. He was exactly where he said he would be; at the bar with a glass already pinched between his long, lithe fingers. How he had gotten a drink so fast, you didn’t know, and you furrowed your brows in confusion at the same time his gaze zeroed in on you from across the room. He raised his beverage to you and tipped his head forward in a leisurely manner, but you only gave him a nonplussed blink in response before looking away. 

“Exhibit A,” Tara tactfully pointed out when you returned to paying attention to her. “What would be the harm? He’s handsome, he’s got to be smart with all the business deals he’s involved in, he’s polite. He could be good for you if you gave him a chance.” 

“Tara, you have no idea what you’re talking about. He’s–” you cut yourself off, trying and failing to come up with a justification that didn’t out him as the head of a massive crime organization. In the end you settled for, “He’s a complicated guy. Can we just forget about it? Please?” 

“Fine, fine,” she waved off your pleading and took a hearty sip of her drink, motioning for you to do the same. “I’ll let it slide this once, but don’t think for one second that I’m dropping the subject forever. Anyways, do you think the DJ is taking requests?” 

Thankfully it didn’t take you long to fall back into your previously upbeat mood. The steady supply of alcohol and the rancorous thrum of your heartbeat in your ears certainly helped matters, and when the song Tara had requested finally came on over the pounding speakers, you shed the remainder of your inhibitions and downed the rest of your drink to free up your hands and dance wildly. It took a herculean effort not to glance back to the bar to see if Sylus was still perched on the stool in the corner, but your willpower won out in the end as you swayed your hips to the tempo of the dark, seductive music. 

Lost in the sea of bodies around you, your senses were overwhelmed with all the different sights, sounds, and smells that surrounded you. The tang of everyone’s sweat mixed together wasn’t altogether unpleasant, and the sickly sweet taste of the lingering cocktail on your lips had you wetting them as red strobe lights darted overhead. Heat from everyone packed in tight next to one another had sweat dripping down your brow, your chest, your back— so you dexterously gathered your hair in one hand to lift off of your neck to offer some reprieve. 

Tara was a blur in the corner of your eye, but you still knew she was somewhere in front of you. That was how you knew the hand on the nape of your neck wasn’t hers, and the absence of Sylus’ trademark scent told you that it wasn’t him, either. 

Ambushed by an errant hand for the second time in one night, you were quick to spin around and shove the stranger away. It was a man– an unfamiliar one at that– who looked all too put out to have been so harshly rejected within the first five seconds of trying. His hair was so black that underneath the club’s technicolored lights, it looked blue. Pale green eyes were narrowed in confusion at you, though you noticed how he immediately attempted to school his expression once you’d turned around. 

“Hey,” he called over the thrumming base of the music. “Want to dance?”

Suddenly bashful at having been so harsh, you did your best to ease up your defensive stance and allowed for a polite smile to play on your lips while you shook your head. “Thank you, but no thanks. I’m here with my friend.” 

Apparently being nice wasn’t going to work, because the stranger stepped close enough to sling his arms across your and Tara’s shoulders, and with the brief look the two of you shared, you could tell neither one of you was particularly thrilled about it. “The more the merrier! Why don’t you two come over to my booth in the corner? I’m sure my friends would love to meet you.”

Calmly but firmly, you grabbed for the man’s hand to unsling it from around your neck, taking a small step away from him as you reached for Tara. “No thank you, we’re good–”

His hand shot out quickly, and you blamed the alcohol in your system for nullifying your reaction time, because the bastard succeeded in grabbing your forearm to pull you closer once again. His nails dug into your flesh hard enough that you winced, and when you tried pulling back, you felt the telltale sting of skin breaking. “Oh come on,” he crooned, giving you an undiluted nose-full of the stale beer on his breath. “Don’t be such a buzzkill. A couple of beautiful women such as yourselves deserve a night of fun, wouldn’t you say?” 

Tara interjected this time, looking more uncomfortable than you’d ever seen her before. “We’re really fine, please let go–”

A shadow crossed your vision for a moment; large, imposing, and radiating an aura that you could only describe as murderous. Smokey cologne filled your nostrils as Sylus wrenched the man’s hand away from your arm, then picked him up by the scruff of his shirt to glare menacingly into his eyes. Over the blaring music, you had no idea what the green-eyed stranger was saying, but you could make out the sound of him stammering as he clawed at the arm that held him inches off the ground. 

For a minute, you really thought Sylus was going to end the man’s life. Even in the midst of hoisting an adult male off the floor by the fabric of his shirt, he didn’t move a muscle. It didn’t even look like he was struggling. He was eerily still, and when you moved to catch a glimpse of his side profile, there was no missing the white hot stare he had glued to his prey. 

Tentatively, you placed your hand on his shoulder, squeezing softly to get his attention. “Sylus, we’re fine– just put him down, please.” 

Aside from a muscle in his jaw ticking minutely, he gave no indication that he had heard you. You tried again, “Sylus please. People are staring, you’re causing a scene.” 

Truthfully you couldn’t care less about the people in the club watching everything unfold, but you were worried about police being called in and discovering who exactly Sylus was. The thought of him being taken away unnerved you, and even though you knew he could more than likely escape beforehand, you feared for the people that would inevitably be caught in the crossfire. 

Beneath your palm, you felt Sylus’ bicep flex before he roughly dropped the man from his ironclad grip. The stranger, wide-eyed with terror, stumbled when his feet hit the floor, but he didn’t waste any time disappearing into the crowd and vanishing from sight. You sighed with relief, grateful that things hadn’t ended badly, then looked back to the silver haired man. His red eyes were fixed on your arm where the stranger had scratched you; four stark, crescent shaped wounds were etched into your skin. Sylus gently took your hand in his to bring your forearm closer for him to inspect, lightly running his fingers over the wounds, and despite the severity of the situation, you felt your face flushing from the intimacy of the gesture. 

“Come on,” Sylus practically growled, his grip on your hand tightening. “We’re leaving.” 

“I– wait, what?” You tried wrenching your arm free from the imposing man’s vice grip, but it was like pulling at Protocore infused shackles. “Sylus, let me go! What about Tara? I can’t leave her here alone.” 

“Luke and Kieran are already on their way. They’ll take her home.” He didn’t look at you as he half-pulled, half-dragged you through the crowd towards the front doors of the club. It took everything in you not to stumble in your heels and sprawl out on the sticky, tile floor, but something told you that even if you did, Sylus would just haul you up and toss you over his shoulder before you made contact with the ground. When the two of you made it outside, the cool air was like a sobering slap to the face, and you blinked rapidly as Sylus released your hand long enough to open the passenger side door of a sleek, black car parked in the front. He gestured stiffly to the seat, “Get in.” 

The flame of rebellion reserved especially for Sylus and his insufferable brand of arrogance roared to life in a split second. Any gratitude you might have felt towards him dissipated into the air like smoke. Your eyes sharpened into something lethal, and your hands curled into fists at your sides as you stood your ground on the sidewalk– silently daring him to physically move you into the car, because you would sooner go head to head with a den of Wanderers before you let yourself be ordered around by him. 

“No.”  

“What if I asked nicely?” 

“No,” you doubled down firmly, your nails biting into the skin of your palms as you beat back the urge to smack him. 

“Kitten,” Sylus’ voice was a low rumble, but the nickname came out as anything but calm. It held a dangerous edge to it, like something akin to thunder sounding before lightning struck. “Now really isn’t the time to show me your claws. Please, get in the car.” 

“Screw you, Sylus. I already said no. I’ll walk–” 

The familiar, cold tendrils of his Evol snaked around your torso, lashing out too fast for you to track or dodge. There was an almost imperceivable tug against your midsection, and the next thing you knew, you were being haphazardly thrown into the car. Any whiplash the motion would have caused was prevented by the red mist that cradled your head. By the time you realized what had happened, Sylus was shutting the door on you and striding around to the driver’s side, ignoring the wary stares from the people outside waiting to be let into the club. 

“Are you out of your mind?” You snapped as soon as he climbed in, and your blood boiled when he wouldn’t even do you the service of looking at you while you raged. “You’re completely out of line! You don’t get to just decide to kidnap me when I’m out with my friends. Do you have any idea how embarrassing this is?” 

“You’ll get over it,” he muttered, throwing the gear in drive before peeling away from the curb. He spun the car around so quickly that you found yourself leaning uncomfortably against the door, and as he evened out the steering wheel and took off down the street, the erratic motions had you bouncing between the window and the center console. “You might want to buckle up, sweetie.” 

He shot you a sidelong look when you jerked on the seatbelt hard enough for it to lock in place, then snickered when you were forced to be gentler to draw the strap across your lap. “Keep laughing like that and you’ll have to sleep with one eye open tonight,” you muttered, clicking the buckle into place. 

Sylus chuckled softly under his breath, his knuckles blanching white against the steering wheel for a brief moment before he said, “I’m counting on it, kitten.” 

—

Insufferable. Demanding. Egotistical. Infuriatingly charming. Too suave for his own good. All of those terms could be used to describe Sylus, but even then it wasn’t enough. No dictionary in the world had enough words to characterize the man’s personality, and you were positive that if you tried finding one, you would be on the hunt for the rest of your life. 

After arriving at his house in the N109 Zone, you’d bitten his head off for not taking you home. When he had countered with the claim that he’d never specified where he was taking you to begin with, you had thrown your hands in the air and stomped away into the living room, at your wits end for the nth time tonight. He had given you a modicum of space to let you cool off shortly thereafter, until he had reappeared to let you know that Luke and Kieran had dropped Tara off at her house safe and sound. 

That had… helped your mood a little. While Sylus was an exasperating person as a whole, you knew that you could trust him to have your friend delivered home unharmed. Luke and Kieran were reliable too– at least, they were when they weren’t conspiring to get you and their boss into compromising situations.

You had never really forgiven them for setting you up that night you were searching for Sylus’ brooch. If Sylus was the ringmaster of Onychinus, Luke and Kieran were the acrobats bending over backwards to please him. 

“There’s a change of clothes by the bathroom,” Sylus’ gravelly voice sounded from somewhere behind you, but you didn’t bother looking away from the massive bay windows to acknowledge him. “You can go shower if you want. If you’re still adamant about going home afterwards, then I’ll take you.” 

You barked out a humorless laugh, and you saw Sylus narrow his eyes at you in the reflection of the window. “Why so hospitable all of a sudden? You didn’t care about what I wanted when you were hauling me out of the club like a petulant child.” 

“I’m sorry, are we forgetting the part where I got rid of the human scum that was yanking you around like a dog on a leash?” 

You dumbly shook your head, baffled and bewildered that he had justifications ready to dish out after behaving so boorishly. “While I appreciate that you intervened, I had it under control.”

One second he was across the room glaring at the back of your head. The next, he was inches away from you, peering down at you like an ominous shadow with predatory intent plastered all over his face. Sylus swiftly captured your hand in his to reveal the tiny row of scratches on your forearm, his gentle ministrations so at odds with his stormy demeanor. He cocked a brow at you and condescendingly said, “You and I have very different definitions of what ‘under control’ means, kitten.” 

“Whatever,” you muttered, easily withdrawing your arm back to your side. “It’s not like he could have done anything serious. We had people all around us, and security would have come over eventually–”

“For future reference, don’t rely on drunk patrons to protect you. I expected better from a Linkon Hunter. You have no idea what that man wanted with you and your friend.” 

“Oh, and you do?”

“Yes.”

That one word from Sylus made you pause, your mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, and your face crinkled in confusion as you processed the meaning behind his declaration. “You… Did you use your Evol?”

Not the least bit ashamed at having been caught, Sylus turned away from you to look out the floor to ceiling window. “He may as well have been screaming his desires with how loud his thoughts were. What he wanted was vile,” he stated roughly, “and he would have gotten it whether you were a willing participant or not.” 

The silence that filled the living room was deafening, and you nervously looked down to the floor as you shifted your weight between your feet. To hear the real reason why Sylus had felt the need to intervene… it explained the cold-blooded expression you’d seen on his face. Moreover, you were glad that he hadn’t left like he had said he would. 

Should you apologize? It felt wrong to just ignore the fact that Sylus could very well have saved your life tonight, and Tara’s by extension. He was as stubborn and headstrong as they came, but he wasn’t a monster. He had protected you countless times before now, and despite your brain’s unwillingness to fully agree, you had a sneaking suspicion that the crime lord had a soft spot for you. You’d come to terms with that fact a long time ago. At the very least, you felt like you owed him a sincere apology for being such a brat in the face of his kindness. 

If it could even be called that. 

Your mouth opened so those two little words could slip free and ease the weight that had settled on your shoulders, but Sylus’ finger stopped you. The slender digit pressed against your lips and prevented you from saying anything, and you looked up at him through your lashes as you blinked slowly in confusion. 

“Go clean up. We can talk more after, if you’d like.” 

The softness of his voice coupled with the tenderness of his gaze compelled you to listen. No retorts, no witty one-liners, no arguments formed on your tongue. For the first time since knowing him, you weren’t in the mood to butt heads or deny him. 

So you listened. 

—

He was waiting for you when you finished in the bathroom. 

Maybe it was more appropriate to say that he’d simply retired to his room after waiting for nearly an hour. After all, you were technically using his shower. The gray cotton pajamas that had been left for you on the bathroom counter were soft, thin, and fit like a glove. You had taken a good minute to relish in the comfortable feeling of them before slipping out of the steam filled chamber. 

Sylus was thumbing over the collection of records on the shelf when you emerged, his broad back to you as he thoughtfully debated on which one to play. He made no move to acknowledge your presence, but you already knew he had heard you walk out of the bathroom. He was too perceptive to overlook anyone sneaking up on him. 

Padding over to the bed, you sat down on the edge of the mattress and mulled over the countless different things you could say to him. ‘I’m sorry’ was seemingly the most prudent. There was also the ‘thank you’ route, which wasn’t a bad option considering he had made sure Tara made it home safely in addition to coming to your aide. Part of you even wanted to ask why he cared to go so far out of his way for you when you were merely… well, you. Sure, your paths had intertwined some time ago, and he had helped you out in choppy situations a few times before. But at the end of the day, the two of you couldn’t be more different, and it wasn’t like you’d made it easy for him to get to know you. 

Why did he care to help you? 

You could already hear his possible responses playing in your mind. He would probably say something like “I protect my investments,” or “You have a habit of looking so pitiful, I can’t help myself”. Something that would affirm that you were important to him while still keeping you at arm’s length. This cat and mouse game you had going with him was maddening, and you were starting to lose your grip on what was real and what was a facade. 

“If you think any harder, you’re going to hurt yourself, kitten.” 

Sylus’ voice drew you back into the present moment, and you glanced towards him in time to watch him slide a vinyl case off the shelf before carefully thumbing the packaging open. His captivating red eyes landed on you as he deposited the disk onto the record player, effortlessly dropping the needle down without so much as blinking. An almost bewitching melody filled the room, and then Sylus was setting down the case to walk towards you, his stride slow and purposeful. Stopping a few inches away from you, he delicately picked up a strand of your damp hair to coil around his finger as he raked his eyes over your body. 

The pajamas he’d chosen were definitely meant for hot nights, that was for sure. The soft, gossamer shorts left nearly all of your legs on display. Nevermind the racy neckline of the matching, lace-lined tank top. All in all, you were wearing more skin than you were clothes. 

“I was thinking,” you started to say, tilting your chin up to meet his unyielding stare. “I owe you an apology.” 

One perfectly groomed brow quirked up in response. “Oh?”

“I know I can be stubborn sometimes–” 

“The understatement of the century,” he mused thoughtfully. 

“Shush, I need to say this.” You sighed before pressing on undaunted, your tone hardening, “That being said, I’d be ungrateful if I didn’t acknowledge that I was out of my element tonight. I honestly don’t know if things would have gone the way you said they would, but even so I can see now that I wasn’t in a state of mind to properly protect myself or Tara. Your methods were… unorthodox, but you being there was appreciated, and I’m sorry that I snapped at you.” 

Sylus was quiet for a few seconds, taking in your words with an almost serene expression on his face. His thumb traced over the strand of your hair around his finger, then let it slip away to caress the side of your cheek with his knuckles. Your breathing hitched– startled by the gesture– but you made no move to pull away or stop him. It was rare for you to be able to perceive him so… openly. 

His voice was low, barely a whisper as he murmured, “You never have to thank me for the things I do. Especially not for tonight.” 

The way he grazed your cheekbone with his fingertips before tracing the outline of your jaw had your mouth firmly sealed. If you tried to speak, you already knew your voice would come out pitifully small. It had nothing to do with feeling small, however. The utter longing in Sylus’ gaze coupled with the almost reverent way he touched your face made you feel… important. He was looking at you like you were the only thing he cared about within the four walls, which was saying something when you stopped to consider all the valuables and collectables he kept hidden away in his bedroom. 

But you didn’t stop to think. Not really. Your brain was mercifully silent as you studied his eyes, his posture, his lips. Something had shifted between the two of you, and you didn’t know if you were eager or scared to discover what that meant. Sylus’ thumb slid over your lips, his touch featherlight as well as chill-inducing. The hunger in his eyes was unmistakable as the corner of his mouth twitched up into a half smirk. 

“Let tonight be a lesson to you, kitten; never let your guard down around anyone,” his gaze flickered from your face to your chest, then lazily swept down the rest of your seated form. “Especially not when you’re out for a night on the town looking like the human embodiment of temptation.” 

“Temptation?” You echoed dumbly, and Sylus shook his head to himself as he laughed softly. 

“Don’t tell me you were completely oblivious to how you looked in the middle of the club earlier. I’ll admit, the amount of eyes you had on you made me… twitchy. I should burn that dress to cinders, but then I’d never get to see you in it again.” 

You blinked in surprise, a tingling warmth spreading from your chest all the way down your torso before settling between your legs. “I– you liked it?” 

It should have made you laugh the way Sylus had to bend down so much to put his eyes at the same level as yours, but humor had flown right out the fucking window the second he started caressing your face. His blatant desire burned you, his touch leaving a trail of fire in its wake. Red eyes bored into yours, and his face was close enough that you could see the darker shade of red that rimmed his irises. Being so up close and personal with his lips also made thinking difficult, but the one thought you managed to cling onto was how soft they looked, and how much you wanted to feel them against yours. 

This man was quickly becoming your undoing, and you truly didn’t think you had it in you to fight against your baser urges. 

“I liked the dress,” Sylus said huskily, his fingers leaving your face to ghost down the side of your neck. “I liked your heels, and I definitely liked your dancing.” His fingers moved to curl around the back of your neck, pulling you ever so slightly closer to him so that his breath fanned across your cheeks as his eyes eagerly fell to your lips. “Would you be offended if I said I like you?” 

The shallow breath you drew into your lungs was like music to Sylus’ ears, and you felt his hand stiffen against the nape of your neck as he awaited your response. Formulating words was a bit of a challenge, however, seeing as all you could focus on was the unrepentant fantasies that were currently bombarding your brain. You wanted him bad, and the wet heat ravaging your lower body was a testament to that fact. 

“I’m going to need an answer, sweetie,” Sylus purred, all too pleased with the way you seemed to unconsciously move your face closer to his. “Or am I meant to read your mind to find out for myself?”

“I’m not offended,” your response was airy– barely a whisper– but Sylus heard you loud and clear, and he grinned wickedly as his grip on your neck tightened. “I think I like you too.” 

“It’s about time.” 

Those three little words came out roughly, but you hardly got the chance to dwell on the gravelly timbre to Sylus’ voice. His lips were on yours in the next second, stealing your breath and igniting a fire in your veins that threatened to burn you from the inside out. Every one of your senses was overcome with Sylus; his smokey scent, the throaty moan he let slip, the feeling of his fingers burying themselves in your still damp hair. You heard him kick off his shoes without breaking away, and then you felt the mattress dip under his weight as he supported himself over you with one of his knees. Looming above you, you were entirely at his mercy as he used the newfound angle to his advantage, sweeping his tongue along the roof of your mouth as he devoured the minuscule sounds that emanated from you. You cautiously wrapped your significantly smaller hand around his thick wrist, drawing him close enough into your space that you had to lean back on the bed to accommodate his larger frame. 

“The things you do to me,” Sylus rumbled, leaning his head to the side to trail hot, open mouthed kisses down your neck, flicking his tongue against your pulse with a low hum. “So unbelievably perfect. You have no idea what I want to do to you.” 

Emboldened by his praise, you let your hands rest on his narrow waist so your nails could dig into the silky fabric of his dress shirt. “Show me, then,” you replied, turning your head so you could stare up at him as your teeth began to bite at your swollen bottom lip. 

In a flash, Sylus had moved off of you to wedge his arms under your armpits, effortlessly hoisting you off the edge of the bed so he could better toss you towards the mountain of pillows near the headboard. A surprised yelp sounded from you as your ass made contact with the smooth, satin sheets, and you watched blearily as Sylus deftly began undoing the top buttons of his shirt with one hand as his eyes raked over you. “You don’t have any idea what kind of effect you have on me, do you? You drive me crazy and you’re none the wiser to it. Ignorance really is bliss, huh?”

“I–” you didn’t know what to say or where to look, especially once the muscled expanse of his chest started to show itself. “I’m sorry?” 

Chuckling darkly, Sylus finished off the remaining clasps on his shirt and shrugged the attire off, tossing it somewhere near the record player before making his way to the side of the bed. “Actions speak louder than words, kitten. Why don’t you show me just how sorry you are?” His hands gestured towards his belt in an unspoken question, and while it took you a second to figure out what it was that he wanted, you were quick to shuffle towards him to get started once your brain caught up. “So eager to please… I’m impressed.” 

You ignored his teasing to the best of your ability. Cold feet wouldn’t serve you well now– not when every fiber of your being was heated with blatant arousal. The urge to please him, to pleasure him, to drive him to further madness, was overwhelming. Nimble as a cat, you undid his belt and let the metal buckle fall away with a resounding clink. The catch of his pants went next, and you made sure to glance up at him through your lashes as you slowly dragged the zipper down, reveling in the lust-filled gaze he fixed you with. 

Sylus let you do the majority of the work, only deigning to lend you a hand when you struggled to pull his pants down over the swell of his rear. A throaty laugh sounded from above you when your eyes nearly bugged out of your head at the sight of his briefs. The unmistakable outline of his girth was apparent through the dark fabric, and fuck– was he big. 

How the hell was that supposed to fit anywhere inside you? 

“Don’t tell me you’re nervous,” Sylus taunted, his index finger and thumb coming to grip your chin and tilt your head up at him. “Just take it slow. I’ll talk you through it.” 

All his promise did was give you butterflies. You swallowed thickly, nodding as he released you so you could turn back to the task at hand. Almost hesitantly you slipped your fingers under the waistband of his dark undergarments, taking care to let your hands graze the delectable ‘V’ of his lower stomach before you pulled them down and revealed inch after inch of his insane member. You couldn’t help it that your mouth fell open at the sight. 

Sylus’ cock wasn’t just big, it was thick. The sheer weight of it fought against its erect nature and had it drooping menacingly before your parted lips. The shiny, red tip was already oozing pre-cum, causing it to glimmer as it reflected the dim overhead lighting. A sparse collection of darker, neatly trimmed hair surrounded his shaft, and you unconsciously found your nails scraping gently through it before you took him in your hands. Even with both of the appendages working together to grip him, there was still ample space left untouched and exposed, and you licked your lips before glancing up at the silver haired man with expectant eyes. 

Sylus still looked surprisingly put together despite the circumstances, but the way his chest rose and fell quicker than normal spoke volumes of his excitement. His red eyes glittered with anticipation, and one of his large hands carded through your hair before gripping the strands firmly enough to maneuver your cheek directly against his throbbing manhood. He sighed as soon as your skin made contact with it, gently moving you around by your tresses until his tip bumped against your lips. 

“Open,” came his sultry command. 

With nowhere else to go you heeded his instruction and stuck your tongue out, ready and willing for whatever he had planned for you. He let you guide his cock into the warm, inviting prison that was your mouth, and without any further pointers from him, you took him as far as you could before you felt the head bumping the back of your throat. The urge to gag came and went quickly as you hollowed your cheeks around your mouthful, and the ragged sound Sylus let slip conveyed his approval well enough. 

It was a tad difficult to crane your neck back to sneak a glance at him, but from what you could see, he was breathing heavily and looking down at you with wonder. “You’re quite the little minx, aren’t you?” 

You hummed your confirmation, the vibrations from the action making the hand in your hair squeeze tighter around the strands, and the soft curse that emanated from him was like music to your ears. 

“Fuck– slowly now, keep your tongue out and mind your teeth. Tap my leg if you need to stop, alright kitten?” 

Stopping was the absolute last thing you wanted to do, but you dipped your head just enough to let him know you were in agreement. Sylus cupped the underside of your jaw with his free hand while the other stayed firmly rooted in your hair– fully in control of your head from that moment forward– and you allowed for your hands to slip away from the base of his cock so you could brace your palms on his toned thighs. His first few thrusts were meant to test your resolve, seeing as they were shallow and relatively wary. Your jaw stayed slack throughout all of it though, and you even took it upon yourself to tense and untense your tongue as he plunged in and out. 

“Damn,” Sylus groaned as his eyes fell shut, the euphoric sensations prompting him to increase his pace ever so slightly. Your nails scraped against the skin of his thighs as you curled your hands into loose fists, the sordid, wet sounds of your mouth making your face flush with barely there embarrassment. “That’s it, darling. You’re doing great.” 

With his fingers wrapped under your jaw, the placement of his digits allowed you to become acutely aware of the bulge in your throat. Sylus’ cock edged deeper and deeper into your mouth with every pump of his hips, and when a strangled, choking sound finally broke free from your stuffed mouth, Sylus laughed darkly before opening his eyes to turn his attention back to you. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now.” Sylus emphasized the statement with a harsher buck of his hips, the head of his cock sliding past the back of your throat and reaching far enough that you felt it near the top of your esophagus. Your eyes pinched shut as tears welled up within them, then flew open as the man above you withdrew his shaft nearly all the way to give you the chance to breathe. Greedy gulps of air were sucked down immediately, followed by a harsh cough that forced the pooling tears in your eyes to cascade down your cheeks. “You make one hell of a pretty picture, sweetie. I’ll have to keep a camera on hand next time.” 

“C-Can I try?” You rasped out the question as you worked to catch your breath, and the amusement that lit up Sylus’ features was enough to harden your determination. 

He released the underside of your jaw and affectionately brushed a few strands of hair out of your face before dropping his hands entirely. “By all means. Show me what tricks you’ve got up your sleeve, Miss Hunter.” 

You weren’t inexperienced by any means, but the impressive size of Sylus had you reevaluating everything you’d ever learned. A blow job was a blow job, however, and you were certain that your enthusiasm would help cover any blind spots that would no doubt appear. 

Sylus watched with anticipation as you took him back in your hands and smiled up at him, resting the heavy head of his cock between your lips before you pursed them to press a warm, messy kiss to the sensitive tip. The tiny, evil glint in your tear-stained eyes clued him in on just how badly you yearned to make him crumble, and for probably the first time in his life, Sylus couldn’t wait to see someone try to knock him down a peg or two. 

With your eyes still glued to him, you slipped your tongue out and ran it slowly over the slit before curling the muscle around the swollen head with a soft sigh, gently stroking him once, then twice. You twisted your wrist slightly as you opened your mouth again to suck wetly at the pre-cum beading before your eyes, laving your tongue over the head hard enough for Sylus’ eyes to narrow for the briefest of moments. His hands clenched at his side, the insatiable urge to fuck into your mouth again taking over him, but he refrained from interrupting your show through sheer force of will alone. 

You smiled coyly up at him, entirely aware of the larger man’s internal struggle, and slowly slid his cock back into your mouth so your lips sealed right over the head as you sucked. It was wet and messy and noisy, and Sylus couldn’t help the way he twitched forward for more as a string of broken curses fell from his lips. 

Your eyes fluttered shut as you tilted your head to the side to mouth down Sylus’ length, sucking gently and soothing your tongue over the warm flesh as you went, and if the feeling and the sight of you wasn’t enough to leave Sylus a panting, eager mess, the slick sounds of your mouth would fucking do it for him. He kept his hands off but groaned loudly, trying his best to indicate that you should absolutely keep doing exactly that. 

His head fell back between his tense shoulders as he let out a low, rumbling moan, shivering when you curled your tongue around the underside of his cock and breathed a soft chuckle against him. You worked to stroke the parts of him that your lips weren’t worshiping, and the smooth, even touches were made even smoother by the copious amounts of saliva and pre-cum that already soaked his shaft. Sylus’ leg twitched minutely, his knee banging against the side of the bed frame, but all he could feel was your soft lips at the base of his cock followed by an agile twist around the slick head, smearing all the combined moisture around blindingly. He didn’t think it could get any better than that, but once you dipped your head low enough to take the skin of his balls into your mouth and suck delicately, Sylus was fighting to keep his head out of the clouds, because the sensation was absolutely otherworldly. 

“Fuck,” came Sylus’ garbled, gritted voice, his stomach tensing as his hands finally returned to your mussed hair. “Alright, you’ve proven your point, kitten.”

Hardly, you thought. You ignored the high strung edge to his voice and continued your ministrations, wrapping your lips around the head and taking him as deep as you could before you swallowed, and when Sylus choked on a rough gasp in response, you withdrew slowly, using the tip of your tongue to press along the underside of his cock. Sylus desperately wanted to stop you, because the last thing he had anticipated was cutting all the fun short by finishing in your mouth of all places– but then your tongue swirled around the tip again while you stroked every wet, exposed inch– and his fingers tightened around your strands of hair as he fought the urge to shove his cock back into the welcoming embrace of your mouth. 

He didn’t think it was possible for such a tiny thing to have such a dexterous tongue. There was simply no way anything born of this Earth could possibly be this versatile. 

“Enough,” Sylus growled abruptly, willing his brain to supersede his baser urges as he promptly pulled you off of him by your hair. The sting from the motion made you gasp, but the pleasure that came with being so easily manhandled quickly overshadowed the pain, and your hooded eyes drank in the sight of Sylus as you breathed in deeply. 

Red eyes hazy and unfocused, chest rising and falling rapidly, and a pretty flush you’d never seen before sneaking up his neck and spreading across his cheeks and ears. Oh yeah, you thought, he was definitely getting close. 

“Don’t look so smug,” Sylus rumbled, the slight strain in his voice barely noticeable. But you were a Linkon City Hunter, and being perceptive was technically a job requirement, so you absolutely took note of it. You couldn’t help but grin– awfully proud of yourself for riling him up this way– and let go of his cock to brace yourself on your arms as you leaned back. 

“Sorry, I just really liked the face you were making.” 

His eyes narrowed in an unspoken challenge, and before you could so much as blink, his larger body was covering the bulk of yours as he hoisted you back up the mattress so you were leaning against the throne of pillows once again. Red tendrils of his Evol aided him in the removal of your shirt, the lacy attire vanishing from view as he crawled backwards just enough so he could slip his fingers under the waistband of your pajama shorts before he said, “I hope it was worth it, because now it’s my turn to see what kinds of faces you’ll make, sweetie.” 

The effect his words had on you could have honestly been deemed concerning, and the pure bolt of arousal that shot through you when he started to drag your pants off without breaking eye contact was like nothing you had ever felt before. As soon as he had tossed your bottoms to the floor to join his own pile of clothing, he wasted little time in settling between your outstretched legs, wrapping one of his thick forearms over your waist to hold you in place as a devious expression spread across his face. 

“Try to hold still for me,” he breathed out softly. You opened your mouth to reply, but your words got cut off the second one of his fingers slid along your slit and pressed against your clit, wringing a strangled gasp from you as you inadvertently bucked your hips up into his touch. He tutted disapprovingly, “That’s the exact opposite of holding still.” 

“I–” another gasp filled the room as Sylus took to drawing languid circles around the bundle of nerves between your legs, the accumulated moisture there making the action effortless and positively heavenly. It took an insane amount of restraint to keep your hips still despite the blissful torment, your breathing becoming increasingly erratic as Sylus played with you, testing your reactions and pushing your limits as though your body was a new toy he was trying out. Your nails dug into your palms in an attempt to ground yourself, your bottom lip throbbing as you savaged it with your teeth. 

As soon as Sylus’ mouth appeared against your entrance, there was no stopping the unconscious jerk of your hips against his face. His muffled laughter against you didn’t help matters, and you wheezed shakily as you grabbed for a fistful of the sheets with one hand while slapping the other over your mouth. Keening, desperate little moans slipped through your fingers, Sylus’ tongue reducing you to a brainless pile of limbs faster than you could process. The tense muscle probed and swept inside of you while his thumb rubbed maddeningly over your clit, the dual stimulation borderline torturous, and your stifled groan drew Sylus’ attention as he increased the tempo of his tongue. 

The arm draped across your waist extended in the next second, and you felt as the silver haired man grabbed for the hand covering your mouth. You let him pull your arm down to your side, his palm tracing down your heated skin until it reached your own, and then he was intertwining your fingers together to hold the limb there. His lips left your core for the briefest of moments, just long enough for him to murmur breathlessly, “Don’t hide those pretty sounds from me, kitten. I want to hear all of it.” 

It should have been anatomically impossible, but you somehow managed to flush even deeper than before. Sylus kept his eyes on you as he returned to licking and sucking at your soaked center, his pupils blown wide and completely dilated as he worked to tear the most sinful, desperate noises from your scratchy throat. He truly looked like some kind of irresistible sex demon– risen from the depths of Hell to torment you and reduce you to a brainless, twitching mess of a human– and God was he succeeding. You were torn between wanting it all to end with your release and simultaneously wanting it to continue forever. 

The idea of staying here for the rest of eternity was not an unpleasant one. Not in the slightest. 

Sylus’ thumb vanished from your swollen nub, replaced almost immediately by his mouth as he sucked the tender bit of flesh between his lips, and the cry that ripped from your chest was unlike any sound you had ever heard yourself make. Your spine arched clean off the mattress, your hips pressing against Sylus’ face so forcefully that you were certain you had to be suffocating him, but as you tried to writhe away from the overwhelming ecstasy, Sylus clenched your hand tight in his and held you firmly where you were. 

“Fuck– Sylus, please, please,” you babbled mindlessly, the tight, hot feeling in your lower stomach roaring to life as he teased his tongue over the small bit of flesh held firm between his soft lips. “I–I’m gonna come, fuck, I’m gonna come–” 

The euphoric rush within your body was more powerful than any Aether Core. It was dazzling. Your muscles tensed, your mouth fell open, your eyes squeezed shut, and your hips bucked harshly against Sylus’ unrelenting mouth as an orgasm unlike any you had ever experienced washed over you. The sound of your hoarse voice dimly registered in your ears as you came, and you faintly realized that you were screaming– but there was nothing in the world that could interrupt the extraterrestrial experience you were currently living through– so your voice reverberated off the walls of the room until you were wholly and truly out of breath. 

When you finally sagged back into the mattress, Sylus had eased up the intensity of his ministrations, much to his credit. His tongue made one final plunge into your wet walls to lap up the evidence of your pleasure before he pulled away entirely, and all you could do was tremble beneath him as he pushed himself up onto his knees. 

He made no move to release your hand as he crawled over you, instead lifting and pinning the joined appendages beside your head before he dipped down to passionately kiss you. Sylus growled savagely as he swallowed up your pitiful mewling, every tiny sound you made fueling something deep inside of him. Trapped under him with nowhere to go, you were entirely at his mercy as his free hand came to slip under your neck in an attempt to deepen the kiss impossibly further. Sylus forced more of his tongue into your mouth and imbued you with the taste of yourself, humming thoughtfully when he felt your nails dig into the back of his hand, at which point he pulled back to stare down at you.

“I should count myself lucky that I have no neighbors this deep in the N109 Zone. I wouldn’t be surprised if you scared Mephisto off with that scream.” 

“Screw,” you panted harshly in-between the words, “that bird.” 

His hand clenched around the nape of your neck as a wicked smile stretched across his face. “You’re actually screwing me, in case you’ve forgotten. Or is your head still somewhere above the clouds?” 

Leave it to Sylus and his smartassery bring you back down to Earth. “One of these days someone is going to cut out your mocking tongue,” you grumbled under your breath, though there was no genuine animosity in the statement. 

Sylus only laughed, his red eyes twinkling with amusement and pure male satisfaction. “If that someone is you, I think I can rest easy. You seem to like my tongue far too much for that to be a viable threat.” 

“…Touché.” 

His lips resumed their relaxed exploration of yours, bestowing a few quick pecks to the corners of your mouth before he peppered a trail of kisses along your jaw, bumping your head to the side with his own as he went. His warm breath fanned across your sweat-slick skin as he sanguinely said, “I think you’ll like the other parts of me, too.” 

On cue, you felt the hard length of him settle against your thigh as he continued to press his lips against your thundering pulse, your hand coming to grip his firm bicep as arousal buzzed through you. Not a shred of doubt existed within you as you hummed your approval, angling your head to the side to give Sylus more room to lick a broad stripe down the column of your neck. You wanted more, and you were well past the point of pretending you weren’t keenly interested in experiencing everything the leader of Onychinus had to offer. 

In an act of complete and utter depravity, Sylus began rocking his hips against your thigh to rub his cock against your heated skin as he unabashedly groaned into the crook of your neck. You felt his sharp teeth clamp down on the skin above your clavicle before he sucked lightly, laving his tongue over the little bit of flesh he managed to latch on to. The barely there sting was more pleasant than anything, and you sighed contentedly when you felt him move higher to repeat the motion on another patch of unmarred skin. 

A small, needy sound came from deep within your chest when Sylus abandoned his hold on the back of your neck to feel his way down your prone body, your eyes falling shut as you relished in his gentle fondling. You felt his fingers graze over your collarbone, then over the hardened peaks of your breasts, before settling between your legs once again. His touch against your clit was slow and testing, prompting you to lean your head back with a quiet gasp as you rocked your hips into Sylus’ hand. The movement played into Sylus’ steady rocking nicely– your pelvis elevating and sliding against his cock easily– and the low-pitched groan of approval he met you with had you smiling softly to yourself.

When Sylus pushed his finger into you again, you bit your lip at the same time he pulled his mouth off of your neck. You opened your bleary eyes to peer up at him, only to find that he was watching you with a tender sort of reverence. You flushed brightly under his flustering gaze, suddenly incredibly bashful at having him watch you so closely even though his mouth had just been ravaging your most intimate area– but despite that fact, you found yourself angling your face to the side in an attempt to hide your reactions. 

“Oh no,” Sylus uttered, a lone tendril of his Evol snaking out to turn your face back to him. “No hiding, kitten. I don’t intend on missing a single one of the pretty expressions you make.”

As though to punctuate the statement, Sylus curled his finger inside of you up– just enough that he found the spot he’d been searching for– and his efforts pulled a strangled moan from you at the same time your hips jolted against his palm. “Sylus, I– hng–” 

Your pleading was cut short by Sylus adding a second finger before he repeated the motion, taking care to slowly rub the pads of his fingers across that same spot over and over again, evidently drawing immense satisfaction in watching you wriggle and twitch under him. That damnable smirk of his showed itself once more as he pressed into the spot more insistently, his eyes devouring every inch of you as your stomach tensed and your toes curled, a telling warmth bleeding through your chest and coiling its way down between your legs. 

It seemed impossible for any one person to be so good at this. Then again, this was Sylus, and you were fairly positive finding people’s weak points was something of a speciality of his. 

The fact that your weak point was buried knuckle deep inside of you was irrelevant. 

As Sylus continued to rub little circles over your sweet spot, he lowered his head once more to work yet another dark bruise into your skin, silently filing away the mental image of your body tensing and arching beneath him for later. The sight of you alone was enough to leave him breathless, but as nice as the imagery was, what really got to him were the sweet, gorgeous sounds of your voice. Your lips parted around quivering moans, tiny gasps slipping through every now and then, and your stammering pleas filled the quiet air around him and imbued him with a newfound sense of urgency. 

Sylus had always loved the sound of your voice, but hearing what it was like when it was hitched and raspy, repeating his name like a mantra… he knew then that there was no better sound in the world. It would be all too easy for him to become addicted to it– to you. 

As your whines became more urgent, your hips practically riding his fingers as he brought you close to the edge for a second time, Sylus couldn’t help but feel a sense of male pride. He was the one pulling those noises from you. He was the one you were calling out for, the one you were trusting to take you higher, to hold you and kiss you and make you feel good. He was the one making a noisy little wreck of you and branding you like he was born to do it. 

He needed more. Sylus needed to feel you from the inside out, and the way his cock twitched in response to the thought was all the motivation he needed to withdraw his fingers from your soaked heat. 

You were positively wrecked already– gorgeously so– with your eyes glazed and unfocused, your lips parted freely around beautiful moans and brainless praises, breathless whines of Sylus’ name escaping you alongside the rattling breaths you sucked down. He almost hated that he was interrupting when he murmured, “What do you think, sweetie? Think you’re ready for me?” 

Your eyelids fluttered as your brain returned to the present moment, having completely spaced in lieu of Sylus’ never ending finger torture. Scrubbing a hand down your face, you rasped out, “F-Fuck, yeah, I’ve been ready. You’re the masochist drawing this out.” 

Sylus laughed– the sound deep and rich– before pushing himself up and sitting back on his heels, the heavy head of his cock dragging over your impossibly wet entrance as he got settled. He finally let go of your hand to maneuver you exactly where he wanted you, your knees resting on either side of him as he gripped your waist with fiendish strength. 

“It’s not masochism, sweetie,” he purred, sliding his rock hard member up and down your slit to further tease you. “I’m being attentive. There’s a difference.” 

Sylus’ idea of being ‘attentive’ bordered dangerously close to persecution, because you were hanging on by a sliver of a thread after all his prep work. You swallowed thickly and wriggled your hips against his solid manhood, aiming to drive him into action before you lost your mind entirely. “I’ve been spoiled more than enough. If you’re any more attentive, the sun will start peeking through the blinds.” 

“Would that be so bad?” Sylus pressed the blunt head of his cock against your hole, not pressing in yet, but applying enough pressure that your heart rate quickened in your chest. “If I have any say in the matter, we’ll be seeing the sunrise regardless.” 

In one quick, fluid motion, Sylus effortlessly rolled his hips forward and pressed into your fluttering walls, a throaty growl reverberating within his chest as he was overcome with your unbelievable heat. The abrupt intrusion was far from unpleasant, but it was sudden enough that your mouth fell open around loud, stuttering moans, your eyes rolling back in your head as Sylus gingerly worked more of himself into you. Your hands scrambled for purchase against the silky sheets in an effort to compose yourself, and by the time he was sheathed nearly all the way within your core, your patience had evaporated. 

The size of him was insane. You could feel every inch of him, every vein that lined his incredible length, and the way he pulsed against your walls reignited the flame of desire that burned in your blood. 

“Sylus– God– Sylus,” you wheezed, tilting your head back as you forced yourself to relax your muscles. Rocking your hips up in search of stimulation wasn’t enough, not by a long shot. You needed to get fucked through the bed. You needed Sylus to plow you like the fucking world was ending, and the visceral want that coursed through you was so strong that you wanted to cry. 

Sylus groaned your name, the combined effect of you calling for him and the feeling of your absolutely drenched cunt sucking him in deeper making his goddamn head spin. He wanted to be gentle– to let you get acclimated before he went any further– because it wasn’t egotistical for him to acknowledge that he was big compared to you. But when he felt the heel of your foot press against his lower back, silently urging him to move, his reservations dissipated into the night like vapor. He knew what you wanted, and being the thoughtful, quick learner that he was, there was nothing holding him back from giving it to you. 

“No God here, kitten.” Sylus rewarded you with a deep, grinding thrust that left you frantic with hunger. “It’s just me, and you’re being so good for me.”

Before you even had time flush with embarrassment, Sylus gripped your thigh with one of his hands and braced himself over you with the other, then pulled out nearly all the way before ramming his cock back into you. 

Your shrill voice echoed off the walls of the bedroom, and your spine rounded clear off the mattress as you half whined, half screamed in ecstasy. 

Every slam of Sylus’ hips knocked the breath out of your lungs, his powerful, cervix kissing thrusts leaving you winded as you blindly gathered a fistful of satin sheets in your trembling hands. His brutal rhythm never faltered as he pounded into you with inhuman stamina, breathing loud moans of your name while a mix of concentration and pure bliss settled over his stunning features. Lost in the throes of rapture, you could barely find the brainpower to appreciate the sight of him above you, but you sure as hell tried. 

Sylus’ muscles rippled with power as he held himself over you and pumped his hips; his abdomen undulated, his shoulders tensed, and his lower half moved in a way you could only describe as wave-like. It was too much, and yet you couldn’t get enough of it. Every time he would withdraw his cock and leave you nearly empty, another toe curling thrust would follow, the force of his hips connecting against your ass jolting you up the bed until you were bracing your hands on the headboard, pushing back against him desperately. 

Entranced by your attempts, Sylus let you move back against him for a few beats– just enough to appreciate how your ass bounced against his pale hips– until the urge to take you over again completely filled him. He groaned, low and savage, and released his hold on your thigh to slide his hand under the curve of your spine, pressing you against him hard enough that you could barely move at all. Your whimpered protest fell on deaf ears, and Sylus hauled you back down the bed to pin you under him with his upper body in an act of complete possession, and you were almost tempted to pray when you heard his animalistic growl against your ear. 

Sylus leaned his weight onto the hand braced against the mattress before fucking into you harder, faster, his long thrusts switching to deep, hammering ruts that drove the swollen head of his cock against your sweet spot so fast and so precisely that it damn near knocked you out. If you could use words at all anymore, you would have warned Sylus that you were about to come. There was no fucking way you couldn’t– not when you were so full of his cock, your throat raw from sucking him off earlier and from screaming. You were being held down and fucked like you were Sylus’ personal toy, his nails scratching at your back as his hand curled into a fist in his efforts to hold you closer to him. 

“You feel–” Sylus gritted through his teeth, the deep tenor of his voice making you clench around him impossibly further, “–so fucking incredible.” 

All you could manage was a broken stammer, “S-Sylus, I’m– I’m–” 

The soft strands of his hair brushed across your cheek as Sylus’ face loomed directly over yours, and when you blinked up at him with glassy, unfocused eyes, his one command threatened to bring tears to your eyes. 

“Don’t even think about coming.” 

Your noisy, incoherent pleas were ignored as Sylus continued to dominate you. Somehow in the midst of railing you through the bed, he moved his hand away from your back to dexterously maneuver your bent legs up, hooking them over his shoulders before bracing his weight on his forearm, and the result was catastrophic in the best possible way. Every inch of your body was vibrating, the pleasure mounting in your lower stomach driving you to abandon your hold on the sheets so you could rake your nails down Sylus’ shoulders. Fighting against the urge to finish was nigh impossible, your focus shifting to the feeling of his muscles working to fuck you as well as the enticing sound of skin slapping against skin. 

Your vision was blurring. Your legs were quaking so violently that you were surprised Sylus wasn’t shaking along with them. He laughed wickedly as he took in the sight of you beneath him, dragging his free hand down to feel around your body for something. Through the haze of it all, you didn’t realize what he was searching for until you felt his fingers on your clit, and the sound that left your mouth wasn’t one that you’d ever thought you could make. 

He wasn’t just a masochist, he was a fucking sadist. 

Your head snapped back against the bed as you wailed desolately, your begging and pleading reduced to shaky iterations of “Pleasepleaseplease” as the pain from being on edge for so long drove you to madness. Overwhelmed tears streaked down your temples, frustration and desperation and too much fucking pleasure twining together with the sharp ache of holding back. Every one of the sensations that wracked your body pooled into an immense rush of stimulation that had you moaning out a string of incomprehensible curses, until finally Sylus decided to have mercy on you. 

“Eyes on me, kitten. Show me what you look like coming on my cock.” 

He didn’t have to tell you twice. 

Sylus’ finger flicked over your now tender bundle of nerves once, twice, and then the world went white around you. You could dimly register Sylus’ gravely moans as he watched you crumble, his brows pinched with focus as he drank in the sight of your lips parting around a rattling gasp, his rough thrusting never letting up. It was so good– better than anything you had ever imagined– and your body trembled violently as Sylus’ movements became more erratic, but all you could pay any attention to was the blistering heat that flowed through your veins. 

Amidst the exultation of your release, you felt Sylus’ hand return to yours, your fingers interlacing in a contrasting act of tenderness as his thrusts became shallower, his breathing turning heavier. He committed the expression on your face to memory instantly, and it took everything in him to savor every second of your fluttering walls sucking him in deeper before he was coming too– one last powerful thrust finding its mark. Thick, hot release filled you, the added sensation bringing you higher than you thought possible, and Sylus groaned appreciatively as he ground his hips against your ass to milk every last drop into you.  

You were still catching your breath when Sylus finally stilled his movements, his haggard panting reaching you through the distant buzzing that rang in your ears. There was no way for you to know how long the two of you laid there joined from the waist down, but you knew that it took a good chunk of time before either one of you could think clearly enough to form words. Eventually, his soft hands gripped your calves to guide your legs off his shoulders and towards the mattress, the trembling limbs settling there like dead weight. 

Sylus brushed his fingers against your neck to rouse you from your post-coital state, and when you cracked open your heavy lids to peer up at him, his expression was one of relative amusement. “You alright, sweetie?” 

“Mhm.” You hummed your response, and even though your tongue felt like lead in your mouth, you managed to mumble, “I can’t feel my legs.” 

The sudden bark of laughter that burst from Sylus was something you’d never heard before, and you watched as he shook his head to himself before slowly pulling out of you. Part of you missed the feeling of him stretching you the second he was gone, but a bone deep fatigue that was much stronger than your meager feelings was winning the war of what you deemed important. Your eyelids started to slide shut of their own accord, every muscle in your body going lax as you melted into the bed. 

Sylus watched you with a measure of worship, utterly transfixed by everything about you. He gently skimmed his fingers over your stomach as he moved to settle against the pillows, taking exceptional care not to jostle you too much while he got comfortable. You didn’t seem to think similarly, however, because as soon as you felt his weight ease into the mattress, you were throwing your arm over his broad chest and hitching one of your legs over his, effectively straddling him sideways as if he were your own personal body pillow. 

He laughed softly, moving to cradle you close with one arm while his other moved to lovingly brush your hair out of your eyes. Sighing contentedly, you fixed your eyes on the record player across the room, suddenly overcome with a strange sense of fondness for the Onychinus leader. “You know,” you murmured, your voice slightly muffled against his firm chest. “You’re not what I expected, Sylus.” 

“Hm? What exactly were you expecting?” 

The cautious edge to his voice told you that he was prepared to hear the worst, but you surprised him by rolling your head to the side to plant a chaste kiss right above his heart. “It doesn’t matter. I just know that I wish more people were like you.” 

Sylus smiled, letting his head tip back against the headboard while he used his Evol to turn off the lights, plunging the room into comfortable darkness. “Careful, kitten. Keep up the flattery and I won’t take you home in the morning.” 

Your hand traced lazy shapes against his torso, and the corner of your mouth quirked up as you glanced up at him through your lashes. “I don’t work tomorrow… besides, I seem to remember you saying you’d keep me awake long enough to see the sunrise. Or were those just empty words?” 

A devilish grin stretched across his face as he took your hand in his, pulling you to the side until you were made to roll entirely on top of him so you were straddling his hips. His lower half began to rouse back to life as you settled into place in his lap, and Sylus gripped your chin between his thumb and forefinger as his lustful gaze bored into your very soul. “I was going to be nice and let you sleep, but if this is the game you want to play, then I’ll hold true to my word. Any objections?” 

Your fingers wrapped around his thick wrist as you brought your face closer to his, your eyes greedily falling to his lips. It should have worried you how addicted to him you already appeared to be, but you couldn’t find it in you to care. Sylus’ cock twitched against you as your gaze rose to meet his, a silent challenge twinkling behind your irises. 

“None at all.” 

“Then it’s a deal.” 

As the night droned on, you came to realize that these were the sorts of promises that you didn’t mind making with him, especially when the sunlight streaming through the curtains hours later conveyed that Sylus had made good on his promise. The break of day didn’t stop him though– not in the slightest. His stamina and vigor remained intact as he dutifully ravished you all through the early hours of the morning, and as you fell apart beneath him once more, the only thing you knew for certain was that it was going to be a long, long weekend.

[writersdrug]

OMG OMG I JUST READ YOUR THING ABOUT BARTENDER SIMON RILEY!! I’m like actually obsessed rn like…. Imagine how that interview would go… 😳 just the reader is shitting bricks because “omg my interviewer is this tall ass beef cake who doesn’t show majority of his face”

You don’t know how much I love this concept…

YESSSS

You're sitting at a seat at a tall table, feet swinging nervously as you sit across from Simon. He's looking over your resume, one foot planted on the ground, the other hiked onto the lower bar of the chair. Your eyes are trailing his intricate tattoo sleeve as his fingers tap against the sheet of paper in his hands. The lil crease in his brow as he mulls over it, soft brown eyes going back and forth over the words.

You're caught between finding him adoringly soft and kinda scary (you're staring at his biceps, remembering that tiktok trend you saw where girls had their buff boyfriends crushing their face with their arm muscles and oh god you're dying to get a taste-)

"You've never had a waitressin' job." He says gruffly, looking at you. "Never really done anythin' customer service, either. Just bookwork."

You chew your lip and sigh. "I know- I just want something different. Rent is due and, surprisingly, data entry doesn't pay the bills." Oh my god, did you just complain about money in your interview?!

"N' you think serving pub food to sad old wankers 'll be better?"

Well, he doesn't seem to care about professionalism, either.

You nod eagerly. "Yup! Plus, you need some young appeal to this place."

"Meanin' you?"

You nod again. "I can be the life of the party if you need me to!" No, you can't, but you desperately need this job.

He huffs, standing up on his feet. Jesus, he could throw you across the bar like a ragdoll - you kinda want him to. "Fine. Be here tomorrow at eight hundred."

You slide off the chair and brush your skirt off. "I got the job?"

"We'll see. Give it a week." He says, shoulders thick and tense as he walks back to the bar. "If you're late, consider yourself fired."

[scoonsalicious]

Unwanted: Chapter 22, Untold - Pt. 1

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader

Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, strippers,

Word Count: 1.5k

Previously On...: Tony expressed his concerns about you going on this mission.

A/N: When Tony Met Pocket!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43

Tumblr will not let me directly tag the following: @marcswife21 @erelierraceala @jupiter-107 @doublejeon @hiqhkey @unaxv @brookeleclerc

Boston, 2002

The bass inside the club was pounding, reverberating through the air and your skull as you made your way onto the floor. The day had already been unbearably long, and after your shift tonight, you still had a mountain of reading to do for your Introduction to Data Structures and Algorithms class. But, MIT courses didn’t come cheap, even at two classes a semester, and you needed every penny you could make from your shifts at Beantown Burlesque. It would make more sense, financially, to work a club closer to the college, but the idea of running into any of your classmates or, god forbid, your professors, made the extra time and money you spent commuting from Cambridge to inner Boston completely worth it. 

Not that you expected a lot of tips tonight. It would have been better if you’d been scheduled to work the stage before they sent you to the floor; you were always requested for more lap dances after the patrons had seen you work the pole. You’d just have to work your ass off to entice a couple of lonely men into the VIP booth. But that always came with the additional task of fighting off requests for additional “services.” You may have been desperate for cash, but you were quite done with having your body sold for money, thank you.

You made your way over to the bar, hoping to get some intel on tonight’s patrons so you could shoot your best shot. 

“How’s it goin’ tonight, Cherry Pie?” the bartender, Mac, asked, using the pseudonym you’d chosen for your stage name when you started at the club a year ago. 

“No complaints yet, Mac,” you said, gratefully accepting the glass of water he offered you– it was important to stay hydrated, after all, “but then again, the night is very young.”

Mac let out a gruff laugh as he wiped down a glass. “You’re too young to be so cynical, Cherr,” he said.

You shrugged. That was an understatement. “Any good prospects tonight?” you asked, leaning your elbows on the bartop.

Mac nodded his chin toward a group of young men sitting close to the stage. “That group over there’s racked up a pretty big tab so far. Think they’re from the MIT alumni conference.” That piqued your interest. Beantown Burlesque might not be the ideal place to network, but you’d honestly take whatever you could get.

“They seem decent enough?” you asked Mac.

“About as decent as any group of blokes that come here,” he offered. “But they’ve been pretty respectful so far; no one’s tried to put hands anywhere they shouldn’t.”

“Good enough for me,” you told him. With a parting wave, you sauntered over to the group, making sure to put some extra sway in your hips. As you approached, you surveyed the collection of men. They all seemed to be centering their focus on one man in particular– he was dark haired with a goatee and wearing a pair of tinted glasses and looked vaguely familiar, though you couldn’t place where you might have seen him before. You clocked his expensive loafers and custom Armani suit, and the way the others around him laughed a little too loudly at what he was saying. 

That’s the one, you thought to yourself. He had the money. If you were going to make your rent on time this month, he was the one you’d need to impress.

“You boys fancy some company tonight?” you asked once you approached the group. The man with the goatee leaned forward, a sure sign of interest, and looked at you over the lens of his glasses.

“Well, gorgeous,” he said with a smirk, “we're not ones to turn down an offer for good companionship, especially from someone as captivating as you. But let's be real, the question is whether you can keep up with us. Think you're ready for the challenge?”

Oh, this one was cocky. You could work with that. You trailed your fingertips along the tops of his shoulders as you made your way around to the table in front of him. Without breaking eye contact, you picked up the double shot of whiskey sitting there and downed the entire thing in one swig without flinching.

The other men in the group whooped and hollered at your display, but the man with the goatee just studied you with a peculiar look on his face. “What’s your name, sweetheart?” he asked.

“You can call me Cherry Pie,” you said as you began swaying your hips to the rhythm of the music coming through the speakers. 

“I didn’t ask what they call you here,” he said, leaning back as you put your hands on his shoulder and began swaying in between his legs. “I asked for your name.”

“You haven’t spent nearly enough to earn that, honey,” you said as you gyrated. 

The man laughed at that, then, reaching for his wallet, pulled out a handful of crisp, one hundred dollar bills. He gently tucked them into the waistband of your bottoms. “How’s that?”

You looked at the bills tucked into your underwear. By your guess, there was about eight hundred dollars there. You just might make rent, after all. “It’s a start,” you shrugged, beginning your tried and true lap dance routine.

One of the other men in the group let out a loud laugh. “She’s sure got your number, Stark!”

At the name, your eyes shot to the man with the goatee’s face, and it suddenly clicked for you. “Holy shit,” you breathed. “You’re Tony Stark.”

Stark smiled. “Guilty as charged, sweetheart.”

“Your company’s network security sucks ass,” you told him, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop them.

He quirked an eyebrow at that. “Excuse me?”

Fuck. “Uh, nothing, sorry. Forget I said anything.” You put a renewed vigor back into your dance.

“Um, no.” Stark said, grasping your wrist firmly enough to encourage you to stop dancing, but gently enough to let you know he posed you no threat. “I want to hear how a stripper knows the faults of my network security.”

You blushed at that. “I, uh, may have broken in the back door and temporarily held your system hostage for ten minutes last May,” you confessed.

“That was you?” Stark exclaimed. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounded… impressed. “You paralyzed our entire operation!”

“Yeah… sorry about that.” Well, you could kiss any further tips goodbye, that was for sure.

“Why’d you relinquish control back to us?” he asked. “You could have held it for ransom; we would have paid whatever you asked for.”

Huh. You had never even considered doing that. “Well, um, actually, I did it as part of a final project? For my Engineering Ethics and Professionalism course at MIT?”

Stark cocked his head at you. “With Erickson?” You nodded, and Stark actually laughed. “He still a narcissistic son of a bitch?”

You chuckled and nodded. “Sexist, too. He nearly shat a brick when he had to watch a mere girl bring a Fortune 500 company to its knees.”

Stark laughed, heartily. “I’ll bet he did! What I wouldn’t have given to see his face!”

“I set up a camera to record it,” you told him. “I can make you a copy of the VHS, if you want. I needed to capture the moment for posterity.”

From there, the atmosphere and your position in the group shifted. You were no longer the entertainment. Tony (he insisted you call him that) invited you to join him as his equal, and for the next several hours, he picked your brain, testing your knowledge and asking you questions about yourself, much to the displeasure of the rest of his group. One by one, they departed, until it was just the two of you. You were having the time of your life. You figured you’d never again have the opportunity to sit back and just hang out with such an icon of the tech community, and you were going to make the most of it. Now, here you were playing a game of Never Have I Ever.

“Never have I ever sheared a sheep,” Tony said with a grin.

“Why, Mr. Stark,” you said, bringing your glass to your lips (you failed to mention that, technically, you weren’t legally old enough to drink), “you haven’t truly lived until you’ve shorn the raw wool from an unwilling ewe.”

“You’re shitting me,” Tony said, laughing.

You took the glass from your lips without drinking. “You got me,” you told him. I grew up in Dayton. Not a whole lotta opportunities for sheep shearing there.”

A mischievous glint came into Tony’s eyes. “Your shift’s got to be almost over,” he said. “What do you say, Cherry Pie? Wanna go shear a sheep?”

“(Y/N),” you told him. “My name’s (Y/N), and I would fucking love to.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[yelena-bellova]

Heartfirst: A Ted Lasso Story - Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve: Hold You Close

Plot: A night out with the Greyhounds, a short-lived stint as head coach and a massive data leak bring on a full week for Y/n.

Word Count: 5.7k

Warnings: language, alcohol, sexual undertones (nude leak), slut-shaming

A/N: What do you get when you write a football fic with very little knowledge of football? This.

To be honest, this chapter feels more like filler and felt very awkward to write. But even if it’s a tiny step, every chapter moves the story along a little bit. Very much a Keeley and Jamie chapter, so enjoy!

——————

Winning suited Richmond.

A four-game win streak had brightened the halls of Nelson Road Stadium. The whole city was in the best mood it had been since the start of the season. Total Football, though it had taken time, was leading them to victory week after week.

After their fourth straight win, the Greyhounds proclaimed a club night. After months of declining, Y/n finally accepted their invitation to join. Going clubbing was…more than a little out of her comfort zone, but the boys weren’t going to take no for an answer. And truthfully, she wanted to celebrate their good fortune just as much as they did.

Sat in the VIP section of a London nightclub, the Greyhounds shouted to one another over the thumping bass. Colin and Y/n were sat in a corner, Colin entertaining her with a story from training the other day. When their glasses were emptied, they headed to the bar to get a refill.

“Okay, fine,” Y/n gestured to Colin’s bottle, “Gimme.”

Colin handed over his vodka, Y/n poured a bit into her empty glass and threw it back.

She grimaced, letting out a groan.

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Colin replied.

“No, it is,” Y/n screwed her eyes shut, “It really is.”

Y/n wasn’t buzzed, but she was certainly more relaxed than usual. It felt good to be out, to be amongst people she liked, to laugh. It made all the lingering anxiety in her head fall hush.

Colin was laughing at her alcohol tolerance just as a man who didn’t belong to their party came up to the bar. He stood beside Y/n and flashed an easy smile.

“You weren’t saving this space, were you?”

“No,” Y/n’s voice was strained, coughing from the vodka, “Go for it.”

The man flagged down the bartender, “Something strong, please. But,” he pointed to Y/n, “Not whatever she had.”

Feeling like she could see properly again, Y/n chuckled. “Smart choice.”

“I’m Paul,” the now-named stranger held out his hand.

She shook it, “Y/n.”

Colin stayed silent beside Y/n, smiling and sipping his drink.

“Are you here with friends?” Paul asked in a thick Irish accent.

“Uh, sort of,” Y/n glanced back the corner of the room the Greyhounds occupied, “After-hours work thing.”

“Ah,” Paul nodded and thankfully didn’t follow her gaze, “Don’t know how many people want to spend a Saturday night with their co-workers.”

Y/n shrugged, trying to give as little information as possible. “Bit of an unconventional workplace.”

“Okay, well, now you’ve got to tell me what you do,” Paul said plainly.

“Ha,” Y/n smiled, “If I do, I’ll never get rid of you. Trust me.”

“No, no,” Paul held up both hands, “You tell me, I get my drink, and then I leave with a useless fact about a stranger whose name I’ve already forgotten.”

Y/n laughed again. This particular club didn’t strike her as somewhere you’d meet a genuinely nice guy. It was a surprise, and if nothing else, it was pleasant conversation.

“You’re…” Paul decided to start guessing, “Personal assistant to some 5-star chef.”

“If that were true, I wouldn’t have so many takeaway menus in my kitchen drawers,” Y/n replied, visions of Christmas dinner two months before flashing through her head.

“Ah,” Paul winced, strike one, “You’re…a dancer and you’re out with your company.”

Y/n scoffed, “I’m flattered, but no.”

Paul pressed a finger to his lips, twisting fully to face Y/n. It was the most polite way of checking someone out she’d seen.

He pointed towards her, “You’re-“

“There you are,” Jamie exclaimed, sliding up to Y/n, “Babe, I was looking for ya.”

Y/n’s mouth hung open, ready to reply to Paul but struck speechless by the interruption.

“Told ya, waiter could’ve brought us refills,” Jamie slid an arm around Y/n’s shoulders and tugged her into his side. “Didn’t have to do it yourself,” he finally took his eyes off Y/n and turned to Paul, “Good night, eh, lad?”

With nothing more than two sentences, Jamie had sent a clear message to Paul that his presence was not required, needed or wanted in the slightest.

“Yeah,” Paul nodded in defeat, “Good night. Hope the same for you,” he gave Y/n a thin smile, “Cheers.”

Y/n awkwardly held up a hand, waving him goodbye, before turning to Jamie. “And what was that?”

“Me savin’ ya,” he answered as if it were obvious. His eyes followed Paul across the room till he was satisfied by the distance. “These places are lousy with creeps.”

“But he wasn’t,” Y/n argued, though it wasn’t really an argument. She hadn’t felt one way or the other about Paul. “He was just nice.”

“I can vouch,” Colin made his presence known again, “Saw the whole thing.”

Details mattered very little to Jamie. The truth of it was, he wasn’t even sure why he had stopped the conversation. The moment he’d glanced over at Colin and Y/n’s spot on the couch and seen it was empty, he went on high alert. Colin could fuck off wherever he wanted, but not knowing where Y/n was unsettled him.

And seeing some guy, creep or no creep, chatting Y/n up and making her laugh felt wrong. Very wrong. So wrong.

“‘Course he was nice,” Jamie replied, “The good ones are always nice at first. That’s how they get ya.”

Y/n watched Jamie mansplain men to her, something she thought was impossible to do. Neither of them really realized his arm was still around her, effectively proclaiming to the club that she was off-limits.

“Well, congratulations,” Y/n took the glass Colin handed her, annoyed yet unable to stop from smirking, “You protected me from harmless small talk with the first person I’ve spoken to outside of work since I started with you clowns.”

Jamie could sense the sarcasm, he didn’t particularly care. The threat had been neutralized. He shrugged, “You’re welcome.”

—————————

A few days later, Y/n was sat at her breakfast table. She watched the busy street below out her window. There was a peace to the hustle and bustle of Richmond that differed from the rest of London. Everyone had a destination, but no one was really in a hurry to get there. It was one of the things that she liked most about living in the middle of it all.

A ‘ding’ from her phone redirected her attention. A Google and Twitter alert. There was a good chance it was pap photos coming out from the club’s night out. A bit late, but still possible.

Y/n held her breath as she reached for her phone. There weren’t a lot of flattering angles to have captured them at by the end of the evening. She tapped the screen to see it was…Keeley…who was trending.

“What…” Y/n mumbled, dropping her fork and typing in her passcode to search further.

Not pap photos. Worse. So much worse.

“What…” she breathed.

There’d been a massive leak of private photos and videos, mostly from celebrities. Among them was Keeley. A racy video of the former model from a few years ago was spreading like wildfire across the digital landscape.

“Oh my gosh,” Y/n whispered as she scrolled various reactions and unfortunate screenshots. She threw her phone down when clips began to fill her feed. The whole country was watching it. Talking about it. Laughing at it.

Y/n scarfed down the rest of her eggs, grabbed her keys and hurried out the door.

—————————

Keeley nearly didn’t answer the door. When the insistent banging didn’t stop, she caved and peeled herself off her bedroom floor. She peeked out the window to see one of the only people she felt like speaking to at the moment.

“I just saw,” Y/n blurted out as soon as Keeley opened the door, “I’m so sorry.”

Keeley exhaled, putting her hands over her face, “I don’t know what happened. I don’t know how it happened. I don’t know what the fuck-“

“Hey, hey,” Y/n placed her hands on Keeley’s shoulders and guided her inside, “C’mon.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Keeley continued, barely registering that she was moving and that Y/n had shut the front door, “My family’s gonna see it. The team. Our clients!”

“I know,” Y/n replied, sitting them both down on the couch, “But the clients don’t matter right now.”

They did, terribly so, but Y/n wasn’t going to bring that up.

Raking her hands through her hair, Keeley stumbled for words. “I’m so embarrassed. I’m so fucking embarrassed.”

Y/n rubbed a hand over her boss’s arm, “I’m so sorry, Keeley.”

There was no way to fix any part of the awful situation, but Y/n, just by being there, made Keeley feel 1% better. It was better to hurt with someone than to do it alone. Jack had just left and the last thing Keeley wanted to be at the moment was by herself.

“You came all the way here because you saw?” Keeley asked, struck by the sentiment.

“Well,” Y/n shrugged, “Yeah.”

Since Amsterdam, Keeley had seen Y/n’s walls come down, or weaken at least. She hadn’t pushed too hard on the matter, she rather enjoyed the new Y/n. But this, this was entirely out of character.

Keeley threw her arms around her neck, grateful and in need of a hug.

A few months ago, Y/n would have shimmied out as soon as she could. But this wasn’t then, and she tightly wrapped her arms around Keeley, doing what little she could to comfort her.

“This is fucked up,” Y/n sighed.

“So fucked up,” Keeley whimpered, stuck somewhere between a sob and a laugh.

Y/n pulled back, still holding on, “We’re gonna get you through this. I promise.”

Keeley took a shaky breath, “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Y/n smiled, “C’mon, KJPR. Dealing with shitty headlines is our superpower.”

Keeley managed a laugh before digging back into Y/n, the two of them locked in a heavyhearted embrace.

—————————

“No, Miss Jones has no comment on the data leak,” Y/n repeated into her phone, shutting down the fifth reporter of the morning, “Have a lovely day.”

Hanging up, she let her forehead hit her desk. It had been a full day since Keeley’s video hit the internet and she could only pray people lost interest and moved on soon. She had made Keeley promise not to answer any calls, instead forwarding the reporters to her. Most of them were men, but all of them were intrusive.

“A dick pic leaks on the internet,” she grumbled and dragged herself out of her chair, “And fuck all, but armies mobilize for a naked woman.”

Y/n grabbed her notebook and left her office, jogging down the staircase to go about her day as normally as she could.

“Hey, Y/n,” Ted called, exiting his office just as she entered the hallway. A vaguely familiar child was walking beside him.

“Hey,” Y/n half-smiled.

“Haven’t gotten a chance to introduce you,” Ted put his hands on the boy’s shoulders, “This is my son, Henry. Henry, this is Y/n.”

Henry smiled up at Y/n, “Nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too,” Y/n realized she’d seen him in a picture on Ted’s desk, “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Hey, listen,” Ted pointed towards the stairs, “I gotta talk to Rebecca, won’t be more than a half hour or so. Would you mind watchin’ Henry?”

“Uh…” Y/n sputtered, “I mean, sure, yeah, but don’t you have training?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Ted quickly said, his mind was clearly somewhere else. He felt around his pockets and pulled out a small box. “Yeah, you know what? Y’all are gonna start training for me.”

While Henry’s face lit up, Y/n’s electrified with anxiety.

“Yeah,” Ted grinned, looking to his son, “There you go. You can go back home, tell all your friends you got to coach a football team. How ‘bout that?”

“Yeah,” Henry said with great enthusiasm.

“Uh, Ted,” Y/n waved a hand, “While Henry,” she smiled for his sake, “May be really good at coaching, I’m definitely not qualified.”

Ted waved a supportively dismissive hand back, “Ain’t nothin’ to it. Get ‘em started on warmups, I’ll be down before they really get goin’,” he handed Y/n the box, “Got this for Roy, but he ain’t gonna use it. You go on.”

With Henry looking up at her like she held the key to his happiness, Y/n didn’t have much of a choice.

“Alright,” she exhaled, feigning excitement, “Let’s go coach a football team.”

“Thanks,” Ted kneeled down to Henry, “Listen to what Y/n says, yeah?”

“Will do, Mr. Magoo,” Henry gave his dad a thumbs up.

Y/n’s eyes widened at the phrasing, there were two of them.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped her hands together as Ted left them on their own, “Let me go set this back in my office and we’ll head out, yeah?”

“Okay,” Henry nodded, following Y/n up the stairs, “So what do you do here?”

Y/n sighed, “Well, I help run the social media accounts. I help the boys with their interviews. Y’know how you see football or baseball players on commercials? I help those happen.”

“Wow,” Henry said as they got to Y/n’s office, “That sounds cool.”

Y/n slid her notebook onto her desk, and faced Henry, “Yeah, it kind of is.” Anywhere else, even she would admit her job was boring, but Richmond had changed that. “Let’s see what your dad gave me.”

Opening the tiny box revealed a plastic yellow whistle. Y/n chuckled, Roy definitely wouldn’t be using this.

“So why’d you come to England?” Henry continued to ask questions, “If you’re American.”

Omitting key details, Y/n slid the whistle around her neck. “I came over for school and loved it so much I just never left.”

“Do you ever miss America?” Henry stayed next to Y/n as they descended the stairs.

That was trickier to disguise. If Y/n was honest, she didn’t miss her home country. It was hard to miss the place all her worst memories had occurred. England had been a refuge before becoming her true home.

“Sometimes,” Y/n replied, guiding Henry down the hall, “I have a little sister who still lives there. I miss her all the time…” she smiled, “And Arby’s.”

Henry agreed just as they reached the doors that would take them outside.

“Alright,” Y/n pressed her hands to the door, “Now these guys are the best in the whole country, in my opinion, so we can’t go easy on them.”

“Got it,” Henry nodded.

“We’re gonna have to work them really hard,” Y/n added.

“I agree.”

Y/n narrowed her eyes, “You ready?”

Henry grinned, “Ready.”

Theatrically, Y/n threw the doors open and they marched down the tunnel.

The boys were stretching and conversing and had yet to notice their coaches were missing. Y/n and Henry headed over to the dugout, Y/n thanking her morning self for deciding on wearing sneakers.

“Do you have a favorite player?” She asked.

“Jamie Tartt,” Henry answered without hesitation, “The first time I visited, he signed my shirt.”

Y/n’s heart fluttered with warmth, “That was nice of him.”

“On my soccer team back home, I’m #9,” Henry continued, “Just like him.”

Y/n’s eyes scanned the group of Greyhounds, finding #9 laughing about something with Isaac. There were probably hundreds, thousands of kids who looked up to Jamie Tartt, but Henry’s admiration was something special.

“Well,” Y/n crossed her arms, “We’ll make sure Jamie has plenty to do.”

Clapping her hands to get the Greyhounds’ attention, Y/n and Henry stepped onto the pitch. “Alright, boys, here’s the deal. Coach has appointed me and Henry here,” she put her hands on Henry’s shoulders, “As your new coaches for the next thirty minutes.”

The team was understandably confused but amused once they saw Henry’s bright eyes. Training was to double as babysitting.

“Now, you’re dealing with one of America’s next top footballers,” Y/n jiggled Henry playfully, “And a woman whose life you all have made incredibly colorful, particularly last weekend…” she gave a thick grin. After their celebration at the club, many of the Greyhounds had needed to be poured into cabs. The task fell to the most sober of them, and Y/n had taken little joy in wrangling them into the backseats. “No one’s going easy on anyone today.”

The boys ‘oohed’ and laughed amongst themselves.

“Alright,” she shouted, “One lap,” Y/n gave a sharp blow on the whistle, “Let’s go!”

All credit to them, the team obeyed orders and set off around the edge of the pitch.

As he passed by, Jamie stopped to give Henry a fist bump.

“How ya been, lad?”

“Good,” Henry grinned, his spirits had lifted even higher the moment Jamie walked in his direction.

“Good,” Jamie stood to his full height to face Y/n, smirking, “Don’t get enough of this with Roy?”

With mere inches between their faces, Y/n blew the whistle smugly, “Fallin’ behind there, Tartt.”

Jamie set off with a smile and ran to catch up to his teammates. Y/n being on the pitch was a surprising, but welcome start to his day.

The boys were about halfway around the pitch when Y/n and Henry started forming their game plan.

“What should we have them do next?”

Henry thought a moment, “What about knee kicks? That’s my favorite exercise.”

“I like it,” Y/n walked across the grass to retrieve one of the balls, “But you better be ready to show them how it’s done.”

Henry’s entire face lit up, the glow radiating onto Y/n’s knowing she’d made it happen. She was going to make sure he went home with the best stories.

The Greyhounds came around the bend, well and warmed up.

“What next, Coach Y/n?” Dani asked enthusiastically.

“Now,” Y/n set the ball on the grass and kicked it to Henry, “You’re in the hands of Coach Lasso.”

Y/n stepped to the side to give Henry the spotlight. The boys all cheered him on as he came to join them, holding the ball under his arm.

“We’re gonna do a knee kick contest,” he said proudly, “We’ll see who can go the longest, and,” Henry scanned the group, “Jamie’ll go first.”

Jamie pressed his fingers to his puffed out chest, stepping forward, “I’m honored.”

Henry tossed him the ball, Jamie easily caught it. Y/n popped the whistle back in her mouth and it shrieked.

“Begin!”

Jamie bounced the ball from knee to knee, the team forming a ring around him to watch. They started cheering each time Jamie’s body made contact, Henry the loudest of them all. He kept it going about thirty seconds before losing it.

Y/n spared him a clap, purposefully holding back, “Not bad.”

Jamie frowned at her, the tips of his lips still curling up.

“Who’s next, Henry?” Y/n asked.

“Sam,” he answered.

Jamie launched the ball at his teammate, Sam caught it and they switched spots.

He lasted the same amount of time as Jamie, Isaac lasted twenty five seconds, Dani lasted forty, Colin lasted twenty eight.

“Alright,” Y/n clapped as Bumbercatch finished his turn, “I think it’s time you boys learned from a true professional.”

Henry stepped up, taking Y/n’s smile as his cue, and caught the ball from Bumbercatch. The boys chanted his name, surrounding him in gleeful anticipation.

Henry began to kick, feeding off the support of the Greyhounds. Y/n stepped back a few feet and pulled out her phone, snapping a few pictures for Ted.

Out of all the Premier League teams filled with cocky young men earning million dollar paychecks, Y/n couldn’t imagine there were many who would behave like the Greyhounds. They were jumping up and down, cheering and counting for Henry as he bounced the ball. It was all so genuine, and they didn’t even realize the extent of what they were doing. They were giving Henry memories he’d cherish forever.

Eventually, Henry kicked the ball for Sam to catch and the boys went wild. Jamie leaped into the air and started victoriously running with Henry, the rest of them following.

Y/n hit the whistle, “Well, I think we can all agree Henry’s the winner.”

The team agreed quite vocally.

“You haven’t gone yet,” Henry called.

“Oh,” Y/n shook her head, “I-“

“No, no, no,” Colin pointed to Y/n, “Boyo’s right. Everyone’s gotta give it a go.”

“That’s right,” Jamie clasped his hands together, “Fair’s fair, Coach.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, stepping onto the pitch to supportive hoots and hollers. Sam threw her the ball and she got into position, taking a deep breath. She’d never touched a football in her life.

Dropping the ball, she clumsily passed from one knee to the other. Henry and the Greyhounds cheered her on as they had each other. She lasted about ten seconds before she felt herself losing it and kicked it across the field. It didn’t make it to the goal, but even Y/n was impressed by how far it travelled.

The Greyhounds went wild, making a massive deal of her minimal accomplishment. A few of them punched her in the arm or high fived her.

“Alright,” Y/n laughed it off, “Henry, what’s next?”

“Corner kicks,” he said decisively, “Last one to grab the ball’s a rotten egg. Go!”

Henry took off before he’d finished speaking, the Greyhounds following. They spent the next ten minutes practicing corner kicks, once again, Henry and the boys insisting that Y/n took part. Pulling closer to the net than the pros, she was able to score a goal, resulting in wild cheers. Dani picked her up and spun her around and Jamie slung an arm around her neck the seconds she was back on the ground. When Henry scored, the Greyhounds lifted him up on their shoulders and ran him around the field.

When Ted gathered himself and headed back out to the pitch, he stopped short at the sight before him. His son, having the time of his life, surrounded by the team. And Y/n, facilitating it all, but enjoying every bit of it herself.

Ted smiled, deciding to watch as long as he could until someone spotted him.

—————————

Later in the day, Y/n drove to the KJPR offices. She hadn’t heard anything from Keeley and wanted to stay as close as she could to help in whatever way she could.

Y/n knocked at Keeley’s door and entered, “Hi.”

Keeley was sat at her desk, pouring over something on her laptop. Most likely, it had nothing to do with business. “Hi,” she mumbled.

“Looking at Twitter isn’t going to help anything,” Y/n sighed, entering the room.

Keeley didn’t look up from her screen, “It’s Facebook.”

Y/n scoffed, “That definitely won’t help anything.”

Keeley tore her eyes away, closing out the browser and turning to Y/n. “How bad’s it been?”

“Oh, Daily Mail were eager to talk,” Y/n fell into the chair opposite her boss, “Didn’t think that was the best avenue to go.”

Barely breathing a chuckle, Keeley ran her hands through her hair.

“I’m not letting anyone get close to you,” Y/n reassured, “And the good news is, the press’ll move on within a few days.”

Keeley glanced up with doubtful eyes.

Y/n regretted the words as soon as she’d said them, “Albeit, they’ll run with this all week. But still,” she reached over and held out her hand, “We’re gonna get through this.”

Keeley exhaled and took Y/n’s hand, squeezing like she was her lifeline.

A knock hit the door and they turned to see Barbara. Keeley did her best to appear as if all was well.

“Is now a good time, Ms. Jones?” Barbara asked, sparing Y/n a polite smile.

“Yes, of course,” Keeley answered perkily, “Yeah.”

Barbara came to stand beside Y/n’s chair, holding a single sheet of paper. “I’m sorry about what happened.”

Keeley looked like she was on the verge of tears, “Thank you, Barbara.”

“Um,” Barbara turned to Y/n, “Does someone have the press-“

Y/n held up a hand, “Got it covered.”

“Good,” she nodded, turning back to Keeley and handing her the sheet, “Jack asked me to give you this.”

“What is it?” Keeley asked.

“It’s a statement,” Barbara replied.

Keeley scanned the text before reading it aloud, “”Allow me to first offer my sincerest apologies,” her brows popped up, “”I deeply regret that video that some of you have seen online. I’m beyond embarrassed, and I never should have made this video in the first place.”

Y/n’s lips parted, even Barbara averted her gaze.

“‘I hope you can forgive me while I learn and grow,’” Keeley finished, looking up to Barbara confusedly.

“Jack thought you could post it across your socials,” Barbara said, “But maybe not Facebook, ‘cause that’s just for grandparents and racists now, isn’t it?”

In her despair, Keeley managed to give a gentle smile and Barbara didn’t miss it as her cue to excuse herself.

Y/n sat still at the desk, her mind flooding with rage. If she didn’t know better, she’d think that the “statement” had been written by a man. How could private property leak and somehow it could be turned around to be the victim’s fault? Worse, how could Jack be alright with it?

“Do you think,” Keeley stared at the letter, “I should put it out?”

In answering, Y/n wasn’t just giving business advice, she was wading into Jack and Keeley’s relationship, something that was entirely off limits. Clubbing with the boys was one thing, relationship talk was way too personal.

“I…” Y/n struggled, “I really don’t think it’s-“

“Please,” Keeley’s eyes snapped up to Y/n, “Don’t do that. I need your honest opinion,” she took a breath, “Do you think this is the right thing to do?”

Y/n had never seen Keeley be so firm, nor had anyone ever called her out on her hesitation. It was a snap back to the reality of the situation.

“Absolutely not,” she answered, speaking with total confidence, “This isn’t a statement, it’s shaming. You dare to do what most of these corporate fuckers do with their mistresses with someone you love, someones steals it from you, and it’s somehow your fault?” Y/n grimaced with rage, “You have nothing to apologize for. You’re the one who got screwed over, you’re the one who’s owed an apology. It is not the other way around.”

Y/n paused, trying to collect herself. “Keeley…please don’t put this out. For all women who have ever had something like this happen, just…please.”

Keeley nodded, as if it only confirmed what she was already thinking.

“Look, you and Jack are…you and Jack and you need to talk about this, but,” Y/n sighed, taking Keeley’s hand once more, “Don’t do it.”

The two of them sat in silence, Keeley eventually folding up the paper and rising from her seat.

“Is Rebecca in today?”

“Yeah,” Y/n answered, “Probably expecting you.”

Keeley nodded as she grabbed her purse, “Tea?”

Y/n frowned as she gathered her purse, “I can’t. Ted’s got a presser.”

The women exited the office together, riding the elevator down without a single word spoken. When they reached the parking lot, they went their separate ways.

“Keeley,” Y/n called once she’d reached her car, “Do I need to…talk to Roy or anything? Make sure he doesn’t speak to the press?”

“No,” Keeley paused her keys in their slot. It was an uncomfortable topic, but PR didn’t care about comfort. “Not, uh…no, not Roy.”

Y/n waited to see if there was more to the answer. At least she was spared a deeply awkward conversation with Roy. The extent of their relationship was a mutual love of yelling at Jamie. She just prayed whichever ex of Keeley’s the video was meant for kept their mouth shut.

“Okay,” she decided not to push, “Hey,” she drew Keeley’s attention one last time, trying to keep her smile, “We’ve got this.”

Keeley gave a watery one back. If she didn’t have Jack’s support, she knew she had someone’s. “Yeah.”

—————————

It wasn’t often that there was so much work it warranted coming in on a Saturday. But a resort chain wanted Dani to do an endorsement for them and the only time their PR department could speak was the weekend. Plus, damage control for Keeley had taken up the lions share of Y/n’s week.

She was sat at her desk, returning an email and waiting for the phone to ring. It was kind of nice having the place to herself, but strange for Nelson Road to be completely silent. Usually from her office, Y/n could hear the sound of the boys conversing loudly down the stairs or Ted’s whistle on the pitch.

Her cell dinged, louder because of the quiet. Y/n picked it up to see it was a text from Jamie.

What you up to?

Y/n snapped a quick picture of her desk and fired it off.

Waiting for the call proved to be tedious as the man she was supposed to speak to was late. She began to scroll social media, her phone having alerted her to the fact that Ted was trending. She found that he and Beard had taken Henry to a West Ham match. A photo of the three of them was flooding the football community.

Where she might have resented Ted months ago, or anguished over the clean up she’d have to do, Y/n couldn’t help but laugh. There was a story to be told and she was sure she’d hear it on Monday. It also didn’t escape her that Beard had made a point of coming in full AFC Richmond attire.

“Damn right,” she said to herself.

Knock knock.

“Fucking hell,” Y/n exclaimed, her chair rolling back a few inches.

Jamie grinned, “Sorry.”

“No, no,” Y/n held her hand to her chest, “My heart needed to be reset.”

“What’re you doin’ here?” Jamie asked, shoving into the office.

“Dani’s got a deal with a resort,” she answered, rolling back to her desk, “This was the only day they could talk.”

Jamie nodded, wandering around the room. For all the time they spent together, he never had much of a reason to be in Y/n’s office.

Y/n got a good look at Jamie’s outfit, “And…what are we wearing?”

Jamie turned on his heel, looking down at himself. He saw nothing controversial about the vest, hoodie and joggers combo. “Fashion,” he answered, gesturing down his body.

“Right,” Y/n replied as she checked her inbox. She wasn’t sure she’d ever get used to his particular taste in clothing. “Where’ve you been today?”

“Eh, stopped by Keeley’s,” he answered, coming to sit down across the desk, “See how she was doin’.”

“Oh,” Y/n replied, glancing back at her computer before two loose pieces in her mind connected and stilled her. Why did Jamie have any reason to check in on Keeley if not…?

“How, uh,” Y/n stuttered, “How’s she doing?” She hadn’t spoken to Keeley yet, unsure as to how she’d handled the conversation with Jack.

Jamie shrugged, “She’s alright. I, eh…” he scratched the back of his neck, “Yeah, she’s okay.”

Y/n looked up and smiled, suddenly feeling like she was intruding on something deeply personal. “Good.”

By now, Jamie was a pro at reading her expressions. If not the intricacies, the general vibe. He pointed a finger, “What’s that face?”

“What face?” Y/n asked.

“That face,” Jamie moved a little closer in his chair, “Everything’s fine but it’s not, you make that face.”

Y/n attempted to shrug it off, wanting to shrug out of the entire situation. “Jamie, I’m fine. I’m glad Keeley’s okay, glad you went to check on her.”

Jamie watched carefully, trying to decode the layers of what she was saying and, more importantly, not saying. He retracted his finger into his fist when he guessed.

“Oh.”

Y/n’s eyes darted up from her laptop screen and back down.

“How’d you not know that?”

“Know what?”

A single laugh and Jamie smiled, “You’re a lot of things, but you ain’t dumb.”

Y/n grimaced, wishing she could disappear into thin air. Moments like these made her miss her boundaries. Isolated as they kept her, they had merit.

“I didn’t know you two…” she awkwardly pursed her lips and stared down at her keyboard.

“All that research,” Jamie smiled at her awkwardness, “Didn’t look into that bit?”

“It’s not my job to know who’s sleeping with who,” Y/n replied quickly, hating how she’d phrased that.

Jamie hummed, “Kinda is.”

Public relations did involve handling all types of headlines. Personal and otherwise.

“Well, you didn’t tell me either,” Y/n retorted.

“I thought you knew,” Jamie enunciated with a laugh.

Y/n couldn’t place what changed, but knowing that her boss and the person who was effectively her closest friend had dated made her feel…uneasy. Knowing such an intimate video had been made for someone she knew, she felt like she’d seen some side of Keeley and Jamie not meant for her to ever know about.

“Right,” Y/n spread her hands over her desk, “Are there any more relationships, past, present or potential, in this club that I need to know about?”

Jamie thought a moment, deciding to exclude any and all locker room talk he’d been present for regarding Y/n. It had started the second she’d walked through the door, dying down and picking back up every once in a while.

“You’re safe,” Jamie replied, finding her discomfort cute.

Any further conversation was blissfully halted as Y/n’s desk phone rang. Finally. She moved to pick it up but was met with Jamie’s hand fending her off.

“Jamie, what-“

Jamie shushed her, nudging her hand away. He lifted the phone off its base and flopped back into his chair.

“Ms. Y/l/n’s office,” he greeted, his Mancunian accent disappearing to turn posh and nasally, “How may I help you?”

Y/n covered her mouth to silence her snort. She waved for the phone with her free hand.

“And she knows why you’re calling?” Jamie continued, sliding away from Y/n’s grasp. “Hold, please.”

He covered the microphone with his palm and smiled. Y/n’s annoyance was a poor mask over her joy.

“It’s for you,” he whispered.

Y/n shook her head and yanked the phone out of his grip. “Hey, Oscar,” she greeted, “Glad we could finally touch base.”

Jamie fell back in his seat, content to wait and watch her take the call. He was happy to stay and bother her as long as he could.

And Y/n would let him, without hesitation.

———————

Heartfirst Taglist: @lalla-04p @optimisticsandwichgladiator @makingmunson94 @taytaylala12 @storysimp @sokkigarden @lightninginab0ttle @poohkie90 @alipap3 @verra-nerevarine @shineforever19 @spaceagechimera @burnafter-reading @qardasngan @cyberpvnk-enthusiast @sogoodtoheritsvicious @buckybarnex @angelsunflxwer @blueanfield @thewildestwonderland @sablecities @oxxolovemelikeyoudooxxo @strawberryacethingz @mentalistfan @tortilla-maria1 @katdahlali @for-fuck-sake-im-alive @glitterquadricorn @jamieolivia27 @imvibin69 @katlizada @lil-tracys @fanaticalfantasist @heyitz-julia @cactajuice @peachyy-tea @notalxx @rockchickrebel @anxiety-prime-max @mentalistfan @loveforaugust @jellycolors @actuallybarb @heletsmelovehim @lovinnscarletknight @imfalling-inlove @leslieiscrying @meg-ro @littlemisssunshine192 @beboldbebravethings @maydayfigment @spencerreidsbookclub @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @lemoonandlestars @im-a-weirdo-for-life @mindless-rock (tags cont. in comments ❤️)

[laurenairay]

I can't help it if I like it - M. Martin

Summary: Dhara Nicholls is just trying to make ends meet while working on her Masters degree. Enter Matt Martin.

This is my entry for @wyattjohnston’s summer fic exchange 2k24! My giftee is @comphy-and-cozy and I hope I incorporated everything we discussed. This is the second longest fic I’ve ever written on here and I had genuinely so much fun writing it! Definitely written with a lot of creative license, not only because Matt and Sydney are couple goals, but also because I completely fudged the season dates. I also modelled Dhara’s degree and work after one of my best friends, and her Sikh faith after another friend, so it is as accurate as I could make it without experiencing it all myself.

I hope you enjoy it C! And thank you to Demi for reading through the first half of this monster!

Words: 13.7k

Warnings: age gap, flirting, pining, extremely slow burn, implied intimate moment, some bad language, changed names of Matt’s irl wife and children

Title from Shotput by Still Woozy Lyrics used from Middle of the Night by Elley Duhé

~

Waiter/Waitress…

Bartender…

Tutor…

Barista…

Cashier…

Of all the things to leave to the last minute. Dhara usually prided herself on her organisational skills, but with her summer internship taking up most of the past couple of months, finding a part-time job to give her disposable income (and food, for that matter) for the final year of her postgraduate degree had slipped her mind. Rents had gone up quite significantly in the past few months, so anything extra she had last year was pouring directly into paying for her tiny apartment, and she needed to eat, damn it.

Unfortunately, now that it was already August, there was nothing truly suitable. She needed flexible hours, that was for sure – some of her data modelling work couldn’t just be stopped in the middle of a good coding flow to pick up a shift at a bar. And some of her classes were online this final year, so she wouldn’t find it as easy to travel back and forth to a job on campus. Tutoring could potentially work but it would involve a fair amount of planning and structure that she wasn’t sure she could commit to.

This was the worst timing. And she’d sworn to herself that she wouldn’t ask her parents for help, not when she was so close to finally finishing her education. But what could she do?

“Hey Dhara!”

She turned her head to the side quickly, dark curls whipping over her shoulder, before she smiled. The familiar voice indeed matched one of her former dormmates, Melissa. They had lived on the same floor in freshman year at NYU, but with limited student housing, most of the friends on that floor had gone their separate ways into private renting. She’d lost touch with a few of those girls too, after they graduated from their undergraduate degrees, but those she still kept in touch with had carried on their education like she had – only Melissa and another of their friends Janelle had taken up postgraduate study at Long Island University – Brooklyn though, so it was good to see her familiar face outside of the occasional coffee catch-ups, especially after the long summer break.

“Melissa! Hi! How are you?”

“I’m good, I’m good, glad to be back in the city. How are you? Did you travel back to LA to see your parents in the end?”

“I’m pretty good too, thanks. And no, the internship offer was too good to turn down. My parents went on a few trips by themselves anyway, so it’s not like I missed out on too much time with them,” Dhara shrugged, smiling, “Now I’m just trying to get myself set up for final year.”

She loved her parents – really, she did – but she wasn’t as close to them as she had been growing up. The downfall of choosing to study far away from home. Dhara had barely been back to Los Angeles since she moved to New York when she turned 18, if she was being honest, and her parents valued her independence as well as her dedication to her studies. At least they could rely on video calls to see each other’s faces.

“Oh man, tell me about it. Shitty rent increases, right?” Melissa groaned.

“Exactly!” Dhara laughed, “I’m just trying to find something that’ll let me be flexible so I can graduate to the best of my ability, you know?”

“I know exactly what you mean,” Melissa sighed, smiling sympathetically, “I’ve got a couple of interviews at coffee chains lined up, but the hours are going to be brutal.”

Dhara grimaced. Yeah, there was a reason she wanted to avoid working as a barista unless there was no other option.

“Hey, you like kids, right?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow at her friend’s question. “I…do. I have plenty of cousins who have kids already, if that’s what you mean. Why?”

“A friend of my roommate works for a nannying agency. Completely certified company, really well paid, you can input your available hours into their website so they match you up, and they cater to a lot of wealthy clients. She told me they’re opening their books, but I’m not a huge kids person myself. If you’re interested, I could pass you her details?”

“Wait, really? Just like that?” Dhara asked, surprised.

It almost sounded too good to be true.

“Really really. The agency do background checks and would want to see your resume as well as do an interview with you in person, but I can’t see you getting rejected from this. You’re crazy smart and super competent,” Melissa shrugged, smiling.

Nannying. For a potentially wealthy client. There were a whole host of problems that could come from that, with both the parents and the children, but could the flexibility be worth it?

Then again, what did she have to lose?

“Okay sure, pass me her details and I’ll give your roommate’s friend a call,” Dhara smiled.

She could only hope this worked out in her favour.

~

Time was running out, Matt knew that much. There were only a few weeks before the season started up again, and it was beyond time for him to hire a nanny for his daughter. He’d been a single dad for two years now, his marriage ending mostly amicably. Sure, his ex-wife’s announcement that she was tired of following him around for his career had been hard, but not as hard as her second announcement that she was following her own career abroad. But she’d not contested anything he'd asked of her, and hadn’t made any unreasonable demands herself, so it was as clean as a divorce could be. Being solely responsible for the upbringing of their daughter Sarah was not something he’d been prepared for, not with his lifestyle. He knew he was lucky that his mom had been willing drop everything and move in with him after his wife left them, but it was time to let his mom live her own life – and for him to move on with his.

Hockey was his first love, nothing would change that. But his daughter Sarah had taken over so much of his heart that he was struggling with the idea of hiring a stranger to take care of her when hockey took precedence. But it was time – for all of them. In the end, he’d decided to go through a reputable agency that a few of the guys on the team recommended, but after three unsuccessful interviews Matt was just about ready to beg his mom to stay a little longer.

The first interview had started well. But it had quickly deteriorated when he realised that they weren’t as flexible as he needed. It was fair enough that the nanny wanted set hours – he knew his schedule was all over the place – but he obviously couldn’t offer that, so he wished them well and cut the interview short.

The second interview had started bad and gotten worse. He didn’t know if it was the way the woman smiled at him when he saw the elegant interior of the house or how she spoke of him being a single dad with a wide-eyed pity smile, but he didn’t like the vibes she was sending at all. He didn’t need a nanny that was more interested in him than his daughter. No, just no.

The third interview sounded promising on paper. The candidate had all the right qualifications and experience, but when it came down to processes and how she handled tantrums and tears? No way. He knew Sarah sometimes got upset when he was on long roadtrips – it was only natural – and there was no way he was leaving his daughter with someone who would punish her for showing understandable emotions.

So Matt could only hope that this fourth interview – his last for the day before he gave up and started from scratch – would finally be positive.

Dhara Nicholls.

When he’d first seen the name, he hadn’t known what to expect. Dar-Rah. That was how the agency lady had pronounced it, so he could only hope she was right – the last thing he wanted was to say the nanny’s name wrong out of ignorance. While he would ask for more detail during the interview, he knew the basics about her from the information the agency had sent over. Born and raised in Los Angeles, California, studied BS Computer Science at NYU, went on to study for a Masters in Computer Science at Long Island University – Brooklyn, and was currently in her final year for that. It was the flexibility that he was most intrigued by – and her apparent intelligence. He didn’t care that she didn’t have nannying experience outside of family. If she could take care of his daughter, make sure she was happy and healthy, that’s all that he cared about.

The doorbell rang right on time. Good start.

When he opened the door to greet her, Matt found himself freezing a little. He’d assumed that she wouldn’t be Caucasian based on her first name (as much as he hated assuming anything), but he somehow hadn’t been expecting the sheer beauty of the Indian woman standing in front of him now. At least he assumed she was Indian – and again with those assumptions. He would have to check for sure with some subtle questions because the last thing he wanted to do was act like an ass. But right now, her big beautiful brown eyes, smooth skin, glossy dark curls and sweet hopeful smile had his mind whirling. What was wrong with him?

“Hi! Mr Martin?”

Huh, a typical Valley girl accent. Not what he’d been expecting. Damn assumptions.

“Matt, please. Mr Martin makes me feel like my dad’s standing behind me,” he managed to force out.

The laugh that spilled from her lips sounded like music. He was doomed alright.

“Good to know. Matt it is,” she mused.

“Thanks, Dhara. Please come in,” he said, smiling warmly.

The way she smiled as he said her name let him know he’d said it right. Dar-Rah. Beautiful. No, he needed to be professional about this. He couldn’t let himself be bowled over by a beautiful girl, not when she was (hopefully) going to be employed by him. That wasn’t fair to her. Or to Sarah.

“Can I get you a drink? Water? Coffee?” he offered.

“Water would be great, if you don’t mind,” she nodded.

Matt quickly grabbed her a bottle of water from the fridge, before leading her into the living room, handing her the bottle as they sat down on opposite sofas. She was tall even in flat shoes, maybe 5ft10, and she looked around the room with a smile before her eyes landed on Matt. Captivating.

“Let’s start, shall we?” he said, trying to clear his thoughts.

Right from the get-go, she was impressive. Her upbringing in Los Angeles was very family-orientated, living near her father’s 3 siblings and all their children, her cousins. Her studies alone were remarkable but the way he could tell how passionate she was for her work was the most interesting part of all. He liked that she could be flexible with timings, happy to stay overnight in a guest room during roadtrips, and she was willing to work around her class schedule to even take classes from his house while Sarah was occupied with something she could still keep an eye on. It was more than he could have asked for, if he was being honest. It was all just a bonus that she was warm and genuine on top of it all.

Matt knew what he wanted the conclusion of this interview to be. Dhara was exactly what he’d been looking for, and he knew that Sarah would quickly accept her too. He could only hope that she felt like she’d been a good fit for them too.

“Is there anything else you wanted to know?” she asked.

“I think I have everything I need. I’m not going to lie, this whole process has been a struggle,” Matt admitted, “Trying to figure out who to trust my daughter with is the last thing I thought I’d be doing.”

“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dhara said softly, smiling sadly at him, “Would you like me to take any preferences back with me to the agency? So the next person is a better fit for you?”

If he hadn’t been convinced about her before, he absolutely was now.

“You don’t need to take feedback to the agency, Dhara. Because I want to offer you the job,” he said, smiling.

Her lips parted slightly in surprise, before a wide grin spread over her face. Somehow the pure joy in her expression made her even more beautiful, if that was even possible.

“Thank you, Mr Martin. Thank you so much!” Dhara said happily.

“You’re welcome. You’re exactly who I was hoping to find for my daughter. And please, call me Matt, remember?” he mused.

“Of course, whatever you want…Matt,” she said, ducking her head slightly to hide what looked like a shy smile.

Whatever you want.

Now that was just dangerous.

~

Dhara felt like she was dreaming. Three days ago, when Matt had actually offered her the job, she’d felt like her head was spinning, and it wasn’t until she had the official contract sorted and signed with the agency that everything started to sink in. He was willing to be as flexible as she needed, in return for her being as flexible as he needed – it was a small price to pay to stay in the guest room when he was away for her to still be able to attend all her classes. The only thing they’d had to negotiate was her one in-person class every two weeks that she couldn’t do online that was outside of Sarah’s Kindergarten hours, which he’d arranged for one of his teammate’s wives to look after Sarah for a couple of hours until she was finished. And wasn’t that a trip, learning who he was. An NHL player. She was really going to be the nanny for an NHL player’s six year old daughter, and she could still complete her degree. Mindblowing. The only thing that was still sort of in the works were the Kindergarten drop offs themselves – she wouldn’t be put on the accepted pick-up person list until after a first week’s trial, just to make sure Sarah was okay with her. It was fair enough, but still nervewracking. Matt apparently had full faith that everything would be fine though, and had already given her all the details. Drop off was between 8.30am and 9am, and pick up was at 2.30pm – Matt was happy for her to work from his house on the days she didn’t have to go into campus, to save travelling back and forth, which she was absolutely going to take him up on.  It almost felt too good to be true, that everything was working out the way it was, but she wasn’t going to let such a good opportunity to balance work and her degree slip through her fingers.

When Dhara arrived at Matt’s house, having been given a brief introduction to Sarah before Sarah excused herself to the living room, she tried not to let the nerves get to her. Matt looked lighter, like a weight had been taken off his shoulders, and she could only hope it was partly to do with her. He might be nearly 10 years older than her, but he was one of the most handsome men she’d ever laid eyes on, that was for sure. Not that she’d ever tell her new employer these completely inappropriate thoughts of course.

“Now, I have some meetings and final pre-season things to film and so on at the rink today. I’m hoping it’ll all be done in a few hours but it’ll be a good little start for Sarah to get used to me and my mom not being around. I’ve already explained everything to her, and I think she understands the concept of a nanny and that it was time for grandma to get back to her own life in Canada, but if there are any major issues then please call me,” he said seriously.

“I’m sure everything will be fine, especially if you’ve already talked with her, but I absolutely will call you if Sarah needs you. And please don’t rush home? You deserve to spend some time catching up with your friends. Team bonding, and all that, especially if someone suggests lunch. Sarah and I will be fine, I promise,” Dhara said firmly, but with a smile she hoped was encouraging.

Matt let out a shaky breath but nodded, and her heart ached for him. She could tell how much this was affecting him – it was obvious – but the whole reason for her being here was to make his life easier. She could do that, she knew it.

“Sarah, I’m going to the rink!”

She smiled to herself at the sound of fast-paced walking (not running inside the house was clearly a rule) and soon enough Sarah was clinging to her dad’s legs.

“Be nice to Dhara,” Matt said, smiling warmly.

“I’m always nice!” she said, pouting.

He just ruffled her blonde hair, nodding to Dhara with a shaky smile, giving Sarah one last hug before leaving the house. This was it – Dhara was officially responsible for the wellbeing of a child.

“I’m going back to colouring. You can come if you want.”

How generous. Dhara grinned to herself at the young girl’s candour, following her quietly through the house back to the living room where Sarah had a small stack of paper and colouring pencils laid out. Sarah seemed happy enough to thump back down onto the floor and continue with her drawing, silent but focused, and Dhara watched for a little while from the doorway. The most important thing for today – and the rest of this week – was for Sarah to feel comfortable in her presence. She’d never had any problems getting her cousins’ children to like her, so she could only hope the same gentle methods would work with this child.

Sarah didn’t seem to mind Dhara sitting down next to her, barely giving her a glance, allowing her to settle in quietly. So far so good. After a few minutes of Dhara watching her peacefully, Sarah slid a piece of paper over to Dhara, and looked up at her with blue eyes eerily similar to her father’s.

“I’m drawing a picture for daddy, to make him smile when he gets home,” Sarah said simply.

“That’s very kind of you. I’m sure he’ll love it,” Dhara said, melting on the inside at the sweetness.

Sarah side-eyed her briefly before seeming to deem Dhara’s answer acceptable.

“You should draw him one too. He likes my pictures so I’m sure yours will be fine,” she said, sliding over the colouring pencil box.

Kids. You had to love them.

“I will do my very best then,” Dhara said seriously.

Sarah just nodded, going back to her drawing with all the focus a six-year-old could. Dhara just smiled to herself, picking up a pink crayon to attempt to draw some flowers. This was a good start, right?

~

The first month of Dhara’s employment (and final year of her degree) flew by. Somehow, everything was going well so far. There were no dramas, no big issues, and her classes weren’t unmanageable with her new schedule. She could admit that it initially felt weird to be dropping a kid off at Kindergarten that wasn’t hers, especially so early on into knowing Sarah, but that first big smile her charge had given her at pick-up time made everything better. Like, genuinely her heart felt like it had puffed up in size – yeah that’s right, I made her smile – and everything had only gotten better from there. They’d even settled into a decent routine, to the point where Matt even joked that Dhara was becoming Sarah’s favourite person (apparently her bedtime stories were the best?) – and neither of them had even looked at her like she was crazy when she explained her work for her Computer Science Masters like most people tended to.

(“Daddy she’s so smart.” “I know sweetheart.” “I want to be as smart as Dhara when I grow up!” “Well then you’d better show me the new spellings you learned at Kindergarten today.”)

She’d only needed to stay an extra night in the guest room once so far for a roadtrip, which also felt weird, but Matt’s flight had been delayed so there really wasn’t another choice. Thankfully, he’d been there by the time Sarah woke up, so there had been no major tantrums, but the bedtime tears were still an experience she hoped to avoid as much as possible. After looking at Matt’s schedule, she knew exactly how many roadtrips he was going to be on, so hopefully she could come up with some ideas for what to do if that ever happened again.

There were many things she was learning in this new world of being a nanny.

She knew she’d be learning something new tonight too. It was the first game of the pre-season and Matt was in the line-up to play. Traditionally, Sarah always went, and tonight was no exception. Dhara had been hesitant to accept the ticket initially, content with dropping Sarah off with the WAGs she knew and picking her up at the end,  because she was quite literally just the nanny - but Matt insisted. He also insisted that Sarah wanted her there too, and how was she supposed to say no to that?

The plan would be that Dhara and Sarah would take the train over to the arena with plenty of time to spare ahead of warmups (so Sarah could hold her newly-made poster up against the glass), and then Matt would drive them all back to the Martin house – with the late timings, Dhara would need to stay late again. At least this time she had enough clothes in her overnight bag packed.

Nerves washed over Dhara as she entered the UBS Arena, but with Sarah chattering away, holding tight to her hand, it wasn’t too difficult to cover her nerves with a smile. She’d already met Kristy Cizikas – the teammate’s wife who covered looking after Sarah during Dhara’s class once every two weeks – so she would at least know one friendly face. Sarah led the way to the family suite, Dhara making sure her pass was clearly on display so no-one thought she was a fraud, and soon enough they arrived to a blonde-haired sea.

“Dhara! There you are!”

Kristy. Good.

She was thankful for the instantly-warm welcome – she was so out of her comfort zone that it wasn’t funny. Tonight really was her first time being thrown in at the deep end. At least she’d have a break soon to collect her thoughts when everyone in the suite (who wanted to) would head down to the ice for warm-ups. She could do this. She could totally do this. It helped that Kristy introduced her around the group, Grace Lee in particular making her feel at ease with her beaming smile.

The game itself was electric. Dhara mostly kept her eye on Sarah playing with the other kids in the family suite – you know, as it was her job – but by the start of the third period Sarah had fallen asleep on her lap, leaving her free to watch her first ever game of ice hockey with her full attention. Grace helped her out by murmuring along some of the rules and pointing out names of people that Dhara didn’t know yet, and she just felt herself getting fully entranced. She’d never seen anything so graceful and yet so physical. And the speed!

Dhara felt like a bit of an idiot for gasping when Matt full-body checked a player from the opposing team into the boards with a load crash, immediately throwing his gloves off to fight him, her eyes wide as Matt easily took him down to the ice. Fuck, that was hot. Why was that so hot? She could only thank her dark skin for hiding the worst of her blush as Grace and Kristy smiled knowingly at her. Whatever, they didn’t know anything. They could infer all they liked.

That didn’t mean her eyes stopped tracking Matt every second he was on the ice though.

“How was she tonight? Truly?”

Dhara smiled up at Matt, shifting a sleeping Sarah up on her hip as Matt unlocked the front door.

“She was so good. The way her face lit up when you saw her sign in warmups? She didn’t stop talking about it for ages. And she fell asleep on me during the third period so I just let her nap, I hope that’s okay,” Dhara said.

“Of course it is. I’m happy that she feels comfortable enough to do that around you!” he said, smiling.

She was too. She really was.

“I’ll put Sarah to bed, if you want to sort out your bandage?” she offered.

The cuts on his knuckles from his fight had needed a couple of stitches and would need to be cleaned then covered for at least one night, he’d told her that much on the drive home.

“You’re the best,” Matt said, nodding.

Dhara just grinned and headed up the stairs. It didn’t take her long to carefully lay Sarah down in her bed, pulling off her shoes before tucking the duvet over her. But as she slowly crept out of the room and gently shut the door, she could hear Matt cursing in the bathroom, and she frowned.

“Matt?” she whispered, trying not to wake up her young charge.

He cursed again, so she knocked on the bathroom door, and smiled slightly as he cursed in surprise and slowly opened the door.

“The bandage is caught on the dried blood in the stitch and I can’t get it off. Don’t want to rip it,” he murmured when her head poked around the door.

“Let me?” she offered, slowly walking into the room.

Dhara looked up at him through her lashes, holding her hand out, and Matt silently placed his hand in hers. His skin was warm, if a little callused, and it was all she could do to bite her bottom lip as she gently eased the bandage off his knuckles. Matt didn’t take his hand away as she reached for the cotton ball he’d already dipped in the cleansing liquid, allowing her to gently dab at the stitches until they were clean. The two of them stood close together, silent, only their hands touching, and yet somehow this was more intimate than she’d ever been with any man. It was intoxicating to be allowed to take this level of care with him. It was only when she gently pressed down the edges of the fresh bandage that she caught eyes with him once more, the intense blue making her breath catch in her throat, and she forced herself to break out of the moment.

Because it was a moment, and she didn’t know if it thrilled her or terrified her.

“That should be okay now,” she murmured, finally letting go of his hand.

“Thank you, Dhara. I appreciate it,” he said, voice just as soft.

Intoxicating.

Dhara just smiled, nodding her head as she slipped out of the bubble he’d unknowingly boxed her into, and stepped out of the bathroom with a racing heart. She needed to pull herself together. She needed to pull herself together, fast. Otherwise she was going to run the risk of ruining everything.

~

“So give us the details then.”

Matt took a sip of his beer, before frowning at Casey.

“What are you talking about?”

Casey shared a glance with Anders, who just smirked and shook his head incredulously. What?

“Seriously, what details?” Matt asked.

“About Dhara?” Anders prompted.

“Kristy and Grace told us all about meeting her at the game last week, how she was super sweet with Sarah and how much Sarah adored her. What really caught our attention was that they told us about her reaction to your fight. How her eyes lit up, how she gasped, how she was on the edge of her seat,” Casey said innocently, although the sparkle in his eyes was anything but.

“Shut up, she did not,” Matt grumbled.

Their words lit something inside of his though. It was just typical that they waited to interrogate him until they were all six beers deep at Casey’s house, Kristy and Grace having a girls night slash kids sleepover with some of the other WAGs, including Sarah. They were gossip vultures, the lot of them.

Did she really react like that?

He hadn’t been able to get that night out of his mind. The way Dhara came into the bathroom so carefully, like she was trying not to spook a horse. How she held his hand so gently, her skin surprisingly warm and soft. How her cleaning touch was so light that he’d barely felt it, how her ministrations hadn’t hurt at all. How her gaze had been so intense when they caught eyes that he’d felt his breath catch in his throat.

Matt hadn’t been able to stop thinking about that moment they’d shared, and it was driving him crazy knowing there was no way she was having the same thoughts.

But then again, if Casey and Anders were right, if Kristy and Grace were right, maybe she was?

“Bud, you know Grace wouldn’t gossip if she didn’t think there was some truth to it,” Anders mused.

He wasn’t wrong there.

“Dhara is my nanny. Sarah’s nanny. Everything is completely professional,” Matt said firmly.

“Everything is completely professional?” Casey prodded.

“Yes?”

At the hesitance in his tone, Casey and Anders grinned.

“I knew it!” Casey hooted.

“What happened?” Anders asked, eyes lighting up.

“Nothing! Literally nothing has happened. She cleaned the stitches on my knuckles for me because I couldn’t get the bandage off, that’s it,” Matt said sharply.

“Booooooo.”

“Seriously, don’t make it a thing. I don’t want her thinking that I’m some kind of creep,” he groaned.

“Now why would she think that, if you weren’t having creepy thoughts?” Anders teased.

Matt sent them both a flat look, making them hoot with laughter.

“Aww you have it so bad!” Casey cackled.

“You two are the worst. I don’t know why we’re friends,” he muttered.

“You love us,” Anders grinned, toasting him with his beer bottle.

Matt just stuck his tongue out in response, taking a big swig of his own drink. He needed to nip all of this in the bud. There was no way he wanted this to get back to Grace and Kristy, and then back to Dhara. Absolutely not.

“She is pretty,” Casey said, smirking slightly, “Kristy said her smile and her laugh lit up the whole room.”

“And Grace said that Sarah worships her, literally fell asleep on her without a care in the world,” Anders added.

They both knew his weaknesses so well. Matt groaned, tilting his head back, before staring his friends down.

“Enough, okay? Yes, Dhara is beautiful. And smart. And so beyond capable with Sarah that it isn’t funny. But I’m not going to be that guy, okay? I’m her boss and I’m not even going to consider crossing that professional boundary, understood? That’s not cool,” Matt said seriously, “I’m not that guy.”

“We know you’re not,” Casey mused, holding his hands up in surrender.

Anders just nodded his agreement. “We only tease you because we love you. And like I said, I wouldn’t have brought it up if Grace hadn’t seen something herself.”

“Just…don’t make it a thing? I don’t want to make Dhara uncomfortable around me. Sarah adores her and that’s all that matters,” Matt sighed, mostly in defeat.

“If you’re sure, then we won’t,” Anders said.

“But we reserve the right to change our minds later,” Casey grinned.

“Oh my god, get me another drink,” Matt groaned.

Seriously, the worst.

~

Sparkling lights, tinsel, and candy canes everywhere – it only meant one thing. Christmas was coming. With continuous snowfall and the way that she couldn’t escape Christmas songs anywhere, Dhara could hardly deny its upcoming presence, especially with how excited Sarah was getting. As usual, Dhara wasn’t going home for the two weeks break, and the moment Matt found out that her roommate was going home (leaving Dhara alone), he insisted that she came over to spend Christmas day with him, Sarah, and his parents.

(“Matt, no, I can’t intrude.” “No-one should be alone on Christmas.”)

He even tried to offer to pay her for coming over, with that she put her foot down. Christmas was Christmas, after all. In the end, they decided that, with her last class of the semester on the 19th, Dhara would stay over from the 20th to the 22nd, until his parents arrived on the 23rd. They would take over taking care of Sarah with Matt not getting home until late in the evening of the 23rd, and then Dhara would come back over on the 25th, leaving again in the evening of the 26th. It was a lot of back and forth, she could admit, but she’d never had someone in her life so insistent that she spend the holidays with them – and the fact that it was Matt? She couldn’t find it in her heart to say no, especially when he got Sarah and her puppy dog eyes on the case.

Somehow, travelling on the trains on Christmas Day wasn’t as bad as she feared, even with her overnight bag and holdall of gifts. It was only lightly snowing on her short walk to Matt’s house, so she wasn’t fully shivering when she knocked on the door but she was definitely glad that Matt didn’t take too long to open it.

“Hey, you made it! Why didn’t you call me from the station? I would’ve picked you up!” he said quickly beckoning her inside.

“I’m used to the walk now, and I didn’t want to disturb you,” she shrugged, unwinding the scarf from her neck.

“You would never have disturbed me. You’re…never mind, come into the kitchen, my mom’s making hot chocolate,” Matt murmured.

She left her bags in the hallway after taking off her boots, coat, and woolly hat, nervously following Matt into the kitchen. Why was she so nervous to meet his family?

“Guys, Dhara’s here!”

“Dhara! You made it!” Sarah cried out happily.

She knelt down to give her charge a big hug, grateful for the friendly face, before standing up with a nervous smile.

“I’ve heard so much about you – I’m Dawn,” Matt’s mom said, big smile on her face identical to Matt’s.

“And I’m Jim. It’s great to finally meet you,” Matt’s dad said warmly.

Was it really that easy?

“I’ve heard only good things about you too. Thank you for letting me join your family Christmas,” she said, smiling back at them.

“Letting you? I had to practically beg you,” Matt teased.

“Because I see you all year round – your parents don’t get that luxury,” she shot back, still smiling.

“I like you already,” Jim laughed.

“Drinks anyone?” Matt mused.

Once the hot chocolate was passed around, they made their way into the living room, Dhara having grabbed her holdall on the way with the gifts.

“I like your scarf, Dhara,” Sarah piped up, once she was settled on a big cushion on the floor.

Dhara’s fingers brushed over the lightweight blue patterned material draped over her chest and pinned in pleats at her shoulders with a smile. She didn’t usually indulge in her South Asian heritage with her outfits, but her holidays it always felt like a must. She might be wearing a casual plain grey sweater underneath, with light wash jeans, but the chanderi dupatta added a much-needed level of elegance – a casual but respectful outfit. Her mother had loved it at least when she called her this morning, and it was nice to know that Sarah did too.

“Thank you! It’s a dupatta – many South Asian women wear them in many different styles. I like to wear a chanderi dupatta, this lightweight patterned silk, over casual clothes to add a little something extra,” she said, smiling.

“It’s really pretty. Never seen you wearing anything like that,” Matt said softly.

“Thanks,” Dhara said, thankful her dark skin hid her blush, “I tend to only wear dupattas for special occasions. I don’t practice Sikhism as much as I did back in LA, and even then not nearly as much as my mother would’ve liked us all too.”

“Why not?” Sarah asked.

“Sarah!” Matt frowned.

“It’s okay, really,” she said, reassuring, “Well, my upbringing was fairly mixed. My mom’s parents came over from Punjab when they were newly married – my Baba Ji, my grandpa, is an Engineer. My mom and her brothers were born and raised Sikh in Los Angeles. Mom met Dad in university and they fell in love. The only problem was, he was Christian. Or at least, loosely Christian – and very white. While my mom didn’t care about all of that, because she’d fallen head over heels for him and him for her, her parents didn’t approve. She left home and married him anyway, and we haven’t really seen much of my mom’s side of the family ever.”

“But they fell in love!” Sarah cried.

“Culture and religion are complicated things,” Dhara said simply, smiling sadly, “my mom knew what she was giving up, she was very brave. She still had a lot of her friends in the community so she had that connection, and Dad’s family is huge and loud and welcoming, so she never felt alone. She raised me with a knowledge of Sikhism and the welcome to join her in celebrating any holidays I wanted to, but my parents left me to forge my own path, which I did. I have some contact with cousins on my mom’s side thanks to Instagram, so it’s not all a loss. I like to think I get the best of both worlds.”

She couldn’t have asked for more with her upbringing, she knew that. Dhara had been given the world, and been taught kindness for others always, and had an education that others could only dream of, and all the love she could ever want from her parents. She also knew that sometimes her mom struggled but that she had her husband, Dhara’s dad, to rely on for strength. Her mom truly was a hero of hers, and she could only be grateful for everything she’d done for her.

“Thank you for sharing that with us. It can’t always be easy, being so far away from your family,” Matt said softly.

“It isn’t always, no. But I’m following my passion with my degrees, and they understand that,” Dhara nodded, smiling at him, “Besides, we have modern technology, no?”

Matt and his parents just laughed, making her smile a bit wider.

“But Dhara, what about…”

“How about we give Dhara a break from interrogation and pass out gifts, hm?” Dawn mused, interrupting Sarah.

Dhara laughed, shrugging, Sarah just pouting.

“You can ask more questions later okay?” Matt said, glancing up at Dhara to make sure she was okay with that.

Dhara just nodded. The way he checked to confirm with her sent out butterflies she tried desperately to ignore. This was not the time.

As they all passed around presents, Dhara had been pleasantly surprised to learn that she had gifts to open too. She hadn’t expected anything from his parents but they’d still surprised her anyway, with a gorgeous earrings and necklace set that felt fancier than anything she owned in New York. Sarah had gifted her a set of pens and a pretty notebook (which she’d picked out herself, apparently) and she’d looked so pleased with herself that it warmed Dhara’s heart.

For Matt’s mom, she’d gifted her a set of Indian spices, because Matt had told her in passing that his mom liked to cook from all different cuisines – so she’d bought her cumin seeds, coriander powder, garam masala, turmeric, and green cardamom. Dawn had looked so touched when she opened them, giving Dhara a big hug that she hadn’t been expecting. Matt’s dad looked just as pleased by his craft beer tasting tour back home in Ontario, and promised to give her reviews of every single one.

Sarah had squealed in happiness at the book Dhara bought her. A Is for Awesome: 23 Iconic Women Who Changed the World. It was important for Sarah to learn about how powerful she could be as a woman, and from Matt’s smile he seemed to agree with her.

For Matt – she’d bought him a cufflink box.

“I’m always losing cufflinks on roadtrips. You remembered,” Matt murmured.

The way her heart fluttered. Wow.

“And now you have a place to store 4 sets, wherever you go,” Dhara said softly.

“Thank you, this is…I love it,” Matt grinned.

Well now she was a goner.

Her last gift to open was from Matt. Again she hadn’t expected anything from him – he was opening his home to her on Christmas, after all – but when she opened the instant camera, Fujifilm Instax Mini with multiple packs of film cards, her heart felt like it was going to burst out of her chest.

“Matt, this is…wow. This is too much!” she gasped.

“You’ve talked about wanting to preserve memories and I thought this would be a fun way to do it,” he shrugged.

A fun way to preserve memories. A whole ass camera. This was just like him.

“Thank you,” she murmured, smiling so widely at him that it hurt.

Matt just smiled helplessly at her in return.

“Can you tell me more about Sikh stuff now please?”

Sarah’s pleading interruption made her laugh, saving her from the explosion of butterflies in her stomach. “If your family don’t mind, I’m happy to tell you more about Sikhism, sure.”

Dhara looked at Matt and his parents, who all nodded and smiled at her. Well, here goes nothing. Time for a basic lesson in Sikhism.

“Sikhism was founded by Guru Nanak around 500 years ago in an area called the Punjab. That’s where my grandparents came from on my mother’s side, if you remember – Punjab is an area which spans part of India and Pakistan now, and they come from the Indian side of it. There are lot of different elements to Sikhism, but some of the main things that Sikhs believe are that your actions are important, and you should lead a good life. You should keep God in your heart and mind at all times, live honestly and work hard, treat everyone equally, be generous to those less fortunate than you, and to serve others,” Dhara listed.

“That sounds really nice,” Sarah said, smiling.

Dhara smiled back at her, heart warmed by the sweet words.

“It is, yes. I don’t attend temple, the Gurdwara, as much as I should, but it’s always really peaceful there. I always try to go for Lohri, the harvest festival in January, and I definitely celebrate Diwali in late October because my family always has, but there are many more holy days that Sikhs commemorate,” Dhara explained.

“Can you tell me about them?” Sarah asked hopefully.

Dhara glanced around the room, seeing Matt and his parents listening raptly, and nodded.

“Of course I can! Firstly…”

~

“Watch yourself, Matthew.”

Matt lifted his head from where he was washing up, seeing his mom standing next to him with a dish towel in hand. His dad, Sarah, and Dhara were all in the living room still, playing Go Fish, but Matt and his mom had moved to the kitchen to tackle at least some of the dishes.

“What?” he said, frowning.

“Don’t think I can’t see the way you look at Dhara,” she said pointedly.

Fuck.

Matt took a shaky breath and opened his mouth to protest, but his mom quickly shook her head.

“She is a lovely young woman with a bright future. Unless you can see marriage in the cards, then don’t mess her around. She deserves the best,” his mom said firmly.

Oh.

Oh.

“Yes, yes she does,” he murmured.

~

With Matt’s parents staying through until the 2nd January, the day before her classes started up again, Dhara had the full rest of the week to herself. The only thing she had planned was getting through work for her Database Management Systems class, but Dawn and Jim had insisted that she came to the game with them on the 28th. That whole evening had been so wholesome; it was clear exactly how much Matt’s parents loved and supported him, and to see his smiling face when they went down to see him after the game? Heartwarming.  Matt had also asked her to come to the New Year’s Eve party that Anders and Grace were throwing – his parents weren’t going to that, but he’d paid for them to have a nice dinner in Manhattan for their own celebration. Dhara almost said no to Matt’s invitation (because who was she to go to a private event like that?), but when he said that Grace had invited her specifically, she couldn’t resist. An invite from Grace Lee to her own party was not something that someone turned down. She knew she’d made the right decision when Grace texted her to say how excited she was that Dhara was coming, which made her feel like a little bit less of an intruder.

What was it with these people and forgetting she was literally just the nanny?

“You look nice,” Matt murmured.

“No daddy, Dhara looks beautiful,” Sarah said firmly.

Dhara laughed, ducking her head shyly just in time to miss the way Matt blushed. Her black sparkly long-sleeved bodycon dress was something that she kept on hand as the only semi-formal thing she had in her closet – so it was really her only option for the Lee’s New Year’s Eve party tonight.

“You’re right, my apologies Sarah,” Matt mused, grinning, “You do look beautiful, Dhara.”

Even if it was prompted by his daughter, it was still spine-tingling to hear Matt say those words.

“You’re too kind, both of you,” she laughed, shaking her head.

Matt just winked before kneeling down to help Sarah put her shoes on, leaving Dhara more flustered than she’d ever been in her life. Thankfully they didn’t have to wait long for the car service that Matt had insisted on, and soon enough their party of three arrived.

“Ah, welcome Martins and Nicholls!”

Dhara giggled at Anders’ booming voice, Matt rolling his eyes fondly as they entered the house.

“Thanks for having us,” Matt mused, handing over a bottle of very nice bourbon to his Captain.

Anders just grinned. “You’re always welcome, bud. Grace is in the kitchen making cocktails for the girls – we’re not invited to that, Matt, but you should definitely head in there so you don’t miss any good gossip, Dhara.”

“Oh, but Sarah…”

“Sarah can stick with me while we go and say hi to all her uncles before they get too drunk, hm?” Matt suggested.

“Drunk Uncle Casey is funny,” Sarah giggled.

“That settles it then!” Anders said cheerfully.

He pointed Dhara in the direction the kitchen and whisked Matt and Sarah away, leaving Dhara reeling. This wasn’t what she had expected at all – and now she was being shuffled over to the WAGs like she had any right to be there?

“Dhara! There you are! Grace is just finishing a fresh batch of mojitos – join us!”

She let out a shaky breath at Kristy’s happy exclamation, but followed her with a smile. She could totally do this. She could go with the flow, especially with Matt’s insistence, and she could just get back to watching Sarah after this drink, right? If Matt was okay with it?

In truth, nothing happened the way she thought it would over the night. While she did return back to watching over Sarah, all of the other WAGs with kids insisted they she took breaks to enjoy herself because they could all chip in to watch the kids. It did make her feel weird because hello, it was literally her job to nanny, but Matt’s happy face every time she took a break to socialise was too strong to resist. The main thing that struck her though was how much she stuck out like a sore thumb. Not just in terms of appearance – she figured she was going to be one of the only people of colour there – but just in terms of importance? Not even all the team was here – the youngest ones were off clubbing apparently, which made Dhara all the more aware of how intimate this gathering was. She didn’t belong here, not in this world. What was her life coming to?

She didn’t know if Matt’s presence helped either. All through the night he made she sure had enough to drink (she stuck to water or soda after that first lethal mojito from Grace) and enough to eat. He included her in every conversation, introduced her to people she hadn’t met yet, and checked in on her when she was watching Sarah. Every time she could see a couple of his teammates and/or the WAGs smirking slightly – but not in a mean way. And certainly not mocking her. It was confusing to say the least, like the lines were blurring without giving her any way to read the meaning of the situation, and it was all she could do to try to let it go. Matt was just being a gentleman, that was all.

When it came to a couple of minutes until the ball drop though, Dhara found herself squished onto a sofa in front of the TV that Anders was setting up, with Sarah fast asleep on her lap and Matt sitting down at her side.

“Champagne?” Matt said, holding out a second glass.

“I suppose one glass couldn’t hurt to bring in the new year,” Dhara mused.

She tried to ignore the way her stomach fizzled as their fingers brushed. Eventually, with just 30 seconds to spare, the living room was packed with party guests, Dhara essentially pressed fully up into Matt’s side. All she could do was remember to breathe, keeping her focus anchored on Sarah to distract herself from the warmth of his thigh against hers. It was intoxicating to say the least, and she was grateful at least for the noise of the room drowning out her thoughts.

“3…2…1…HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

As fireworks exploded across the screen and out the windows, and couples embraced all around the room, Dhara’s breath caught in the throat as she looked up at Matt to see him already looking down at her.

“Happy New Year, Dhara,” he murmured.

“Happy New Year,” she said softly back.

The intensity in his eyes made fire burn through her skin, barely softened by the champagne she poured down her throat. The way he looked at her…it almost felt real.

~

Dhara’s birthday was always a strange time of year for her. She never did anything massive to celebrate it, just casual dinner and drinks with friends and a phone call with her parents, but this year it fell at the end of January on a Saturday, at the end of Matt’s bye week. He had no other plans that spending time with Sarah anyway, so he gave her the week off to relax.

Relax, hah.

She had her thesis proposal to finish, with the final submission of the full finished thing due at the beginning of May, but she’d managed to sort out the data she wanted to use in the first half of January – so she was able to use her week off from nannying to finish the proposal. She holed herself up in her bedroom, surrounded by drinks and snacks, barely taking any breaks other than to reassure her roommate that she was still alive, until she submitted it to her supervising professor.

It was worth it, to feel like she’d accomplished something she was proud of.

Dhara emerged from her ‘coding cave’ the day before her birthday, her roommate shoving her straight into the shower while she ordered them both Thai food to celebrate. It felt good to have a little time to actually relax before her birthday, because before dinner and drinks with her friends, Matt had planned a surprise lunch for her.

She should have expected the restaurant he chose to be a fancy one. She’d never eaten anywhere so nice, not even when her parents came up for her undergraduate degree graduation.

“I have one more surprise for you,” Matt announced, just as he paid the bill, “if you have time to come back to the house with us.”

Sarah was basically wriggling in her seat, quietly begging please please please, and how could Dhara say no to that? All through the drive back to Matt’s house, Sarah was whispering to him and giggling away, making Dhara smile to herself. Seeing the young girl so excited made her excited – and after the incredible surprise Christmas gift he’d gotten her? She could only hope it wasn’t something crazy.

“Okay Sarah, you go ahead and open the door while I make sure Dhara isn’t peeking,” Matt said with a smile.

“What,” she said flatly.

Matt just smiled innocently, stepping behind her, and it was all Dhara could to do gasp as he gently placed his hands over her eyes from behind. Fuck.

“Door’s open daddy!”

“Okay sweetheart, why don’t you take Dhara’s hands and slowly guide her indoors,” Matt instructed, “if you’re okay with that?”

“Yeah sure, go for it,” Dhara laughed.

As if her today could get any stranger than this. So with Sarah’s small hands in hers and Matt’s large hands over her eyes (his cologne smelled so good this close, it was unreal), Dhara was slowly guided into the Martin house, taking heed of Sarah’s instructions not to bash into things, until she was standing in what she was sure was the rarely-used dining room. Matt and Sarah always preferred to eat at the kitchen island, but she knew where this room was. Why was she here?

“Ready?” Matt asked.

“Ready. I think,” Dhara mused.

Sarah let go of her hands at the same time as Matt removed his, and as soon as she opened her eyes, her breath caught in her throat. What the hell. In front of her, on the dining room table, were two computer screens, high definition and huge, with a docking station and all the appropriate wires to connect them to a laptop. To her laptop? What the hell.

“Matt…” she breathed.

Sarah just giggled at her reaction before skipping out of the room, leaving them alone. Leaving Dhara with her mind whirling.

“I know you were talking about how it’s easier to see your code side by side, and rather than doing the split screen thing you have been doing on just your laptop, I thought this would be more helpful,” he explained.

He remembered that from her rambling? He was listening?

“I can’t believe you bought me two computer screens. And a docking station. This is too much, Matt, really. I can’t accept them,” she murmured.

This was so personal – no-one had ever paid attention to her like this, and it was coming from him?

“Hey, no, this is important for you. For your work. I want to make sure that you have everything that you need to finish your degree in the best way possible – you’ve done so much for us and I just wanted to do this little thing for you. Besides, you only turn 25 once, right?”

“This isn’t little, Matt. And I’m just a nanny, I’ve barely done anything,” Dhara protested.

“If that’s all that you think you are to Sarah, and to me, then I’m clearly not doing enough to show you differently,” he said firmly.

The tone of his voice made her shiver in all the right ways.

“Matt, I…”

She trailed off at the intense look he was giving her.

“Happy birthday, Dhara,” Matt murmured, smiling softly.

It was all she could do to hug him tightly, sinking slightly into his chest as his arms immediately wrapped around her too. His shirt was soft against her cheek, that intoxicating cologne filling her senses, so much so that as she moved to break the hug, she impulsively kissed his cheek. Fuck. Dhara froze for a moment, stunned at her own audacity, but as she leaned back, Matt looked just as stunned – other than the pleased smile on his lips.

“Sarah! Come and say goodbye to Dhara so she can go out with her friends!” he called out, dropping his arms to let her go.

Dhara smiled at the sound of pattering footsteps, even more so as Sarah hugged her legs tightly.

“Dhara! You’re still my friend too, right?”

Be still her beating heart.

“Of course I am. I’ll be back here on Monday, ready for Kindergarten as usual,” she promised.

“Good. Happy birthday Dhara!” Sarah said happily.

Matt’s eyes never left her once.

~

With only a few weeks left until Spring Break, Dhara didn’t know where her final year of her degree was going. She knew she was going to use that Spring Break time to finish as much of her thesis as possible – and she knew she was going to be spending the whole week at Matt’s. Her new computer screens had stayed at his house as there was way more room for her to work there, and the couple of occasions she’d used them there for her classwork and he’d been home, he always smiled a pleased little smile like he was proud of himself for providing for her. It was…strange.

Everything was strange.

Since that kiss on the cheek, the dynamic between them had grown even more tense. Every stolen glance, brushed fingers, sweet smile, all felt like she was getting away with something forbidden. If anyone knew the illicit way she thought of Matt, she knew she’d burst into flames. And it wasn’t like she could be sure about how he felt about her either. Sure, he looked – but she was a beautiful Indian woman, and many men looked. It just felt different when she felt Matt’s eyes on her body, that was all.

She knew it was futile though. She was his nanny, nothing else. And she didn’t dare mess anything up with her employment now that she was only a couple of months away from turning in her thesis and finishing her Masters in Computer Science. She knew that she had to seriously start applying for jobs for starting in June, knew she didn’t want her years of hard work to go to waste – but it was so hard to decide exactly what she wanted when her head was spinning.

In a dream world, she’d have the career she’d always fantasised about, with Matt and Sarah by her side. But this was reality – girls like her didn’t get the career and the guy. She had to be realistic with herself, otherwise she was going to drown. She knew she had to stop indulging her daydreams and wake up – it wasn’t worth the inevitable heartache, as much as those dreams were nice to fall asleep to.

Still, when Spring Break arrived and Matt refused to let her nanny for him, rather than holing herself up in the bedroom of her tiny apartment, she holed herself up in Matt’s dining room, only emerging when Matt dragged her out to get some sleep or Sarah begged her to eat dinner with them. It was a weird but welcome change, to have people care about her wellbeing like that (her current roommate had her own weird work hours), so when she finally came out of her week of thesis writing and showered, she felt more human than she usually did after a data spree like that. It was refreshing to say the least.

“I can’t believe you spent your final ever Spring Break sitting at my dining room table,” Matt teased, handing her a plate of sliced apples.

Dhara stuck her tongue out at Matt as she happily took the plate, making him laugh.

“I needed to get my thesis finished as soon as possible so I can work on editing it and proving the data works. And I managed to get it nearly finished – now it’s just concluding it and all the weeks of editing to get done. Otherwise, all the hard work of the past three years will come to nothing, and I won’t be able to get a good job like I deserve,”

“Right, yes, of course. A job using computer science,” Matt nodded.

The way he said it though, and the way he looked like a kicked puppy, made her heart ache. “Matt, you knew I would only be able to work for you for a year. We talked about this, right from the start.”

“I know,” he said quickly, shaking his head with a smile, “It’s just going to be strange not having you around. You feel like part of the family already, and you know that Sarah loves you.”

Fuck.

“Matt, you’re killing me,” she murmured.

“Sorry,” he quickly said.

“No you’re not,” she said dryly.

“I am a little bit.”

Dhara huffed out a laugh, shaking her head. “I love systems analysis and the increase in importance of connectivity to keep up with modern systems within growing infrastructure, and I would love to work in something like that because it’s where my passion is. I just…I hope I can find something that takes a chance on a nobody like me.”

“You are the furthest thing from a nobody, Dhara. You’re incredible and talented and a beautiful person inside and out, and you deserve the best. Whatever you need, whatever I can help with, I will, okay? References, making calls, whatever. You name it and I’m there.”

Her lips parted in surprise at his supportive words, eyes stinging with tears, but she found herself smiling. He was such a sweetheart.

“That might be the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” Dhara said, voice thick with emotion as she stepped forward to hug him.

She felt herself tremble slightly at the warmth of Matt’s hands on her back, even more so at the way he buried his face in her long thick curls, and tried to savour the feeling of his arms around her while she still could. How had their time together come to an end so quickly? How was this fair?

“Yeah, well, you deserve everything and more,” Matt said gruffly as he stepped back.

If only she could read his mind right now, to see what thoughts were running behind the complicated expression on his face, then she would do it in an instant.

“Thank you, Matt,” she murmured.

“You’re welcome. Make sure you start applying soon, okay?”

~

Network Operations Engineer – Madison Square Garden Entertainment – full time.

Submission – completed.

~

March.

April.

May.

His fleeting time left with Dhara was slipping through his fingers. The harder he tried to hold on, the faster the days flew by, until she submitted her thesis and the end was in sight. He couldn’t blame her for being excited – fuck knows he wouldn’t be sane after all the years of education she’d gone through – but he couldn’t stop the anxiety that built in his chest when he thought of how, soon, she wouldn’t be laughing and smiling and typing away at her computer in his house.

The Islanders had barely lost the first round of the playoffs, kicking and scraping to the last minute, and now with the whole summer stretched out in front of him, the thought of spending it without her was excruciating. But Matt knew he had no claim on Dhara, had no right to feel this way, no matter how she looked at him or smiled sweetly at him or that one time she’d kissed his cheek. She was everything he hadn’t known he’d wanted and needed, and now she was soon to be gone from his life forever.

He, Matt Martin, was completely gone for Dhara Nicholls, and he didn’t know what the hell he was supposed to do about it.

“Dhara, come on, you’re not watching!”

Matt rolled his eyes fondly at Sarah’s petulant whining. “Sarah Dawn Martin, that’s not how we speak to our friends.”

He could see Dhara biting her lip to hide a smile as Sarah huffed dramatically.

“Dhara, please will you watch this with me? You said you would!”

“Of course, why don’t I just get us some more water each and we can settle in, hm?”

“Deal!”

Matt watched Dhara walk over to where he was putting together lunch in the kitchen, unable to stop himself smiling at her the moment she smiled at him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

She giggled, shaking her head at herself as she pulled a couple of bottles of water out the fridge.

“How’s it going in there with the Drill Sergeant?” he mused.

“Oh it’s tough, but I think I’ll make it out alive,” she grinned.

Why was everything so easy between them? Nothing had ever been this easy before.

“Look, I, uh…I was hoping to ask you something?”

Dhara raised an eyebrow with a bemused smile but nodded, leaning against the counter next to him. “Go for it.”

“So you know it’s my birthday on Saturday?” he started.

Dhara just nodded, smiling.

“Okay cool, so I know you have things to finalise this week, with administration at your university, but Casey and the guys and girls have organised a night out and I was hoping you’d come? So yeah, come out with us, please,” he said, cursing himself for rambling.

“Oh, thank you – I just…what about Sarah?” she asked.

So sweet.

“She’s having a sleepover with a friend from Kindergarten, I already sorted that,” Matt said simply, smiling.

“Well in that case, I’d love to. If you’re sure?” Dhara said, uncertainly.

“Of course I’m sure. I want you out celebrating with me,” he said firmly.

While he couldn’t tell if she was blushing or not, the flash of surprise and something else in her eyes satisfied something inside of him that felt distinctly feral. He really was losing his control around her, wasn’t he?

“Then I’ll be there,” she said sweetly, “You only turn 35 once after all.”

Matt just grinned.

Saturday night rolled around quicker than he’d expected. The WAGs had taken Dhara out with them to get ready – the full works apparently, hair, make-up, and manicures, all of which he paid for Dhara because it was last minute – and when the ladies finally arrived to the restaurant he’d booked out for dinner? Well, it felt like he’d been punched in the face. It wasn’t that her dark curls were glossy and teased to volumed perfection. It wasn’t that her make-up was flawless, full glam like she never did herself. No, it was the emerald green mid-thigh strappy silk dress she’d clearly borrowed from one of the other ladies. The dress was so dainty and unlike anything he’d ever seen her wear, close enough to a negligee that it sent his mind reeling. He knew she had a great figure already, and that her legs were long and toned, but seeing them like this? It was mindblowing. And, obviously, it had taken everything in his power not to drool or let his jaw drop.

Naturally he missed Casey and Anders smirking at their wives and receiving triumphant grins in response from Grace and Kristy. Dhara’s sweet greeting and warm hug made everyone else in the room disappear.

Still, after dinner and going to a couple of bars, they ended up in a night club nearing midnight, Anders having booked a couple of tables upstairs in the VIP area. The whole group had a couple of shots together, toasting Matt’s 35th birthday, before the WAGs all dragged Dhara off to dance with them. From their table he could just about see her in the middle of the dancefloor, looking like she was having the time of her life, body swaying and moving in a way that had his full attention. Captivating.

He watched her on and off for the next half hour, switching between talking to the guys, sipping on his whisky and coke. But it wasn’t until Casey thumped down next down next to him and clapped him on the shoulder with a huff that he realised anyone had noticed.

“Come on man, just go down to the dancefloor and put us all out of our misery,” Casey groaned.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Matt frowned.

“You’re pining after Dhara and it’s driving us crazy,” he retorted.

“We’ve talked about this. She’s my nanny,” Matt said sharply.

“Yeah okay, like that even matters. I’ve seen the way you look at her and Kristy’s seen the way she looks at you, and it’s not like she’s going to be your nanny for much longer, right?” Casey smirked.

“Oh fuck you.”

“Fuck her.”

“Don’t talk about her like that,” Matt all but growled.

Casey just grinned, clearly getting the answer he wanted, goading Matt just like he intended. Damn it, he really did know him too well.

“Love you too bud. Stop being a coward,” Casey just snickered, patting Matt on the shoulder, a clear indication to just get out of there.

And if the desire to dance with Dhara hadn’t won out, he knew he’d be scowling at his friend. Instead, he found himself drifting down the stairs from the VIP area to where he lasted spotted Dhara in the crowd, and soon enough he found her. She looked like a goddess: swaying from side to side, multi-coloured lights brushing across her brown skin like a Picasso painting, and he felt himself mesmerised. She turned her head slightly at the prompting of Grace, wide smile stretching across her lips when she spotted him.

“Mind if I join you?” Matt said, raising his voice.

“Of course not birthday boy!” Dhara said happily.

Matt stepped closer to her, barely registering the rest of the ladies grinning at each other and slipping away through the crowd to leave them alone. His attention was completely captured – Dhara’s hips swaying so close to him were a massive distraction – and it wasn’t until a familiar song started playing that he finally looked up at her face.

“I love this song!” she said happily.

Dhara turned her back to him, confusing him slightly, until she looked back over her shoulder expectantly. He knew they’d both had a fair amount of alcohol to drink at this point, but her eyes were clear enough – dance with me. He could barely control himself as he stepped up behind her fully, hands on her hips, pulling her gently back against him, the soft moan that sounded from her lips making him feel wild. Fuck, he could feel himself stirring where his crotch was pressed just above her ass, even more so as she continued to sway her hips.

“Come, lay me down, 'Cause you know this, 'Cause you know this sound

In the middle of the night, In the middle of the night, Just call my name, I'm yours to tame...”

“Matt,” Dhara murmured, looking up at him.

He followed his base instincts for once, staying silent as he used the grip he had on her hips to spin her around to face him, taking pleasure in the look of surprise on her face and the flash of lust in her eyes, swaying their bodies together again.

“…I'm wide awake, I crave your taste all night long, 'Til morning comes, I'm getting what is mine, You gon' get yours, oh no, ooh, In the middle of the night.”

“Matt please.”

It was all he could do to guide her quickly through the crowd to the edge of the dancefloor, to an empty spot against the wall, leaving them mostly in the shadow, the bright flashes of light illuminating them just about enough to see each other’s faces.

“Tell me to stop,” Matt murmured into her ear, hands threading into her thick curls.

“Kiss me,” she replied, lifting her head in challenge.

He didn’t hesitate to press his lips to hers, kissing her just as she’d demanded, his heart immediately soaring. Dhara moaned into his mouth, moaned again when he pushed her firmly up against the wall, kissing him back just as eagerly as her hands clutched at his shirt. It was like she melted against his body as he slid his tongue past her lips, fire zipping through his blood, his head swirling. Matt kissed Dhara over and over again, one hand leaving her hair to clutch at her hip, the silk of her dress driving him mad and doing nothing to mask the heat of her skin, and while the music washed over them, he wanted nothing more than to get her away from this crowded dancefloor and take her home.

Fuck, it was intoxicating how well she fit into his arms, how her body was moulded to his, how their tongues danced together as intimately as their bodies had done. In all the times he’d thought about kissing her, about holding her, nothing could compare to the real thing. Nothing could compare to this.

But he needed to know that it wasn’t just him, that she wasn’t just kissing him because she was drunk. He didn’t think he would survive that. The confused noise she made when he broke the kiss just about broke his heart though.

“Dhara, baby, I gotta know…”

He groaned, kissing down her neck, feeling like he was shaking apart at her soft moans.

“What, Matt?” she gasped as he nipped at her skin.

“You’re not…you’re not too drunk right now, right? You want this?”

“Matt, I’ve been drinking water throughout the night between drinks. I want this. I want you. I just didn’t know if you wanted me,” she said, shrugging with a sheepish smile.

She didn’t know if he wanted her?

He rested his forehead against hers, pressing her fully into the wall again so she could feel where he was half hard in his jeans. Dhara giggled, pulling him down into another kiss with her grip on his shirt, and Matt was all too happy to oblige her, knowing he’d never get enough of her now that he’d tasted her.

“It’s not just sex, baby, I swear. I want all of you,” Matt murmured, breaking their kiss again to suck on the thin skin behind her ear.

“You promise?” she asked softly into his ear, almost shyly.

“I promise,” he nodded, as serious as he could manage in this moment.

“Then take me home.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah, take me home Matt,” she grinned back.

~

Dhara woke with a soft groan, eyes feeling gritty and mouth as dry as an old sock. She blearily lifted her head, grabbing the glass of water on the side table and chugging it, body not recognising the weight of an arm over her waist until her head was a bit clearer.

An arm over her waist.

Over her bare waist.

Matt’s arm.

She let out a shaky breath as all the memories of the night before flooded into her head. Dancing intimately with Matt in the nightclub where anyone could see them. Making out on the side of the dancefloor. The two of them leaving the club without telling anyone, barely keeping their hands off each other in the uber back to his. Then a rush of lips and hands and teeth and bare skin, and waves of pleasure over and over again, crying out his name without a care in the world.

It was everything she’d ever dreamed over, and now, waking up in his bed with his bare body pressed to hers, it was her nightmare all the same.

She’d never acted like this before in her life. Never slept with a man she wasn’t dating. Absolutely never slept with her boss. What kind of trashy behaviour was that? How could he ever think she was worth his time if this is the way she acted the first time he showed interest? Fuck.

But she remembered his words too. How he checked that she wasn’t too drunk, that she wanted this. How he swore it wasn’t just sex, that he wanted her. How insistent he was on promising that it wasn’t just talk to get her into bed. And in between each of the many orgasms he brought her to, he checked in with her each time, making sure she was okay, just because that’s who he was.

He was Matt Martin, gentleman under a rough handsome exterior, and he wanted her.

None of that changed her insecurities though, how all of this was so out of character for her. Not to mention, she knew damn well that everyone knew what they did last night, why they left the club early, and wasn’t that mortifying? No, she needed some air, she needed to think. And to maybe put on some clothes she’d left in the spare room because there was no way she could wear Kristy’s tiny silk dress home in broad daylight.

With a shaky breath, Dhara gently picked up Matt’s arm, moving it off of her body, before slowly sitting upright. If she could just stand up without waking him it would be…

“Good morning. Going somewhere?”

Matt’s husky voice made her freeze, a wave of guilt washing over her, before she turned to face him, sheets clutched to her bare chest.

“I…I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m doing,” she murmured, more honest than she cared to be.

And if that wasn’t a metaphor for her life since she met him, what was?

He just frowned, sitting upright, and she couldn’t stop her gaze from raking over his chest, his biceps, his shoulders. Damn. “What’s wrong?”

“What’s wrong? Where should I start?” Dhara said, feeling a little hysterical.

“I thought we were on the same page last night,” Matt said hesitantly, “I thought we both wanted this.”

“We did,” she said quickly, “I did. But…you know this doesn’t make any sense right?”

“Why not? You like me, I like you. You want me, I want you. It’s simple,” he frowned.

If only.

“It’s not simple at all, Matt. Not for me. It’s one thing for you to have the hots for your young pretty nanny, but to actually hook up with her? And to say you want something more? People are going to think I’m a gold digger! That I trapped you! That I manipulated my way into your life!”

“Dhara, all of that is bullshit. I don’t care what people think. Anyone who dares to call you a gold digger is an asshole who doesn’t know us. Everyone who knows us knows it isn’t like that at all. You’ve already got a job lined up waiting for you with Madison Square Garden Entertainment Group and you only just handed in your thesis – like, you’re going to be making your own money so it’s not like you only like me for that, right?”

“Well, no, but…”

“And you didn’t even know who I was when you first interviewed with me, so it’s not like you planned this, right?”

“Of course I didn’t, but…”

“If you don’t want anything more than this one night with me then obviously I would accept that. It would suck and the last few weeks of you working for me would be really awkward, but damn Dhara, I want a future with you,” Matt finished, taking one of her hands in his, the other still clutching at the bed sheet.

He really wants a future with her?

“You do?” she asked softly, almost as if she didn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I do,” he nodded, smiling warmly, “I mean, I’m not sure what you see in me – I’m a 35 year old hockey player who’s nearing the end of his career, already divorced once with a kid who doesn’t have an off switch or a volume control, and I have no idea what I’m going to do with my life…but I just know that I want you in my life, however I can have you.”

“You’re the kindest, sweetest, most handsome man I’ve ever met, with a daughter who loves you so much, and you see me for more than the Indian girl stuck behind a computer screen. I…I never expected this, any of this Matt, but I want to try?” she said, biting her bottom lip.

The way his face lit up with sweet genuine smile made her heart soar.

“You have no idea how happy that makes me. I’m going to do my best to make you so happy too, Dhara, I swear,” he grinned.

Dhara huffed out a laugh, laughing properly as he tugged the sheet out of her hand and guided her to lie down again in the messy bed, sliding his thick arm over her waist to tug their bare bodies together, lying face to face in the most intimate yet soft way she’d ever lain with another man.

And in that moment, it didn’t matter that her career was just about to kick off while his was in its hockey-twilight. And it didn’t matter than he was 10 years older than her, a whole wealth of life experience that she barely had. And it didn’t matter what people would whisper about them, or what judgemental looks she was get, or that her mother had never met him, or even that none of this would ever have happened in her wildest dreams.

All that mattered was that he wanted her, in his bed, in his family, in his life.

“Can I kiss you, baby?”

“Yes.”

~

Tagging a few people: @jostyriggslover96 @misshoneyimhome @senditcolton @fallinallincurls @2manytabsopen

[sgiandubh]

Hello! I'm a huge OL fan and just recently came across your blog. Loving it by the way. I'm in the bar & restaurant industry on the west coast, and I wanted to say thank you for your kind post about Ashley and setting the record straight. I've known her for years in our industry. That woman is one of the hardest working in the business. She pretty much singlehandedly brought Jagermeister into the cocktail world in the US, has created inclusive events for bartenders across the US & Europe, and also created award winning campaigns for the brand. She told me she has been getting the rudest DMs since announcing her role and it pisses me off (thank god she is not on tumblr). So again, I just wanted to say thank you... and just a reminder to everyone judging her who doesn't know her - social media isn't all real, it's marketing. People let you see what they want you to see.

Dear Ashley Anon,

I am immediately posting your submission, which luckily reached me on my ☕️ break. Thank you so, so much for your trust and for the clearly organic details. So glad to see people step in and debunk gratuitous bullshit posted with confidence.

Please tell Ashley this fandom is not only about egomaniacs, data mining trolls and impostors. I am surprised, though, that nobody warned her about the tiny peculiarities of this bizarre place.

Don't be a stranger, Anon. Thank you. Truly. 👍

[murderbees]

Some Sirens on break

Going more off my Siren HC from before, these 3 have different jobs.

1st from the left, she's a companion. Usually she helps programs destress by clearing unneeded data and improving their sleep cycles. The capette she's wearing is a design by one of her other friends. She likes being tall, so she wears the classic siren heels.

2nd, she's the bartender. Bartenders usually have additional clothes, if any energy spills, you don't want that directly on your circuits. She regulates energy intake for programs. If you're running low, she'll make something just a bit stronger, or weaker if you don't need much. She's not on break, but it's a slow day, so who cares if she talks with her friends. She needs to be standing all day, but she likes a little heel, so she chose wedges.

3rd, she's sorta cleaning crew, like a plumber. All aqueducts and energy stores need care and cleaning, and that's her job. She goes out and fixes minor problems, and keeps everything efficient. She needs to be steady, so no heels for her. Her hands and neck have additional protection. It's not an unsafe job, but it isn't easy either.

Sirens tend to have less lightlines that are more continuous than other programs. Usually they connect from the mid torso down to their feet, but there are many variations and exceptions.

[dat4l0re]

Data in TNG: Conundrum

[in1-nutshell]

We need more Moony, let her and Swerve kiss

Should I let them?

Or continue the wait?

Hope you enjoy!

3 Times Moonstreaker and Swerve nearly kissed

SFW, Platonic, Familial, Hinted romance, Cybertronian reader

MTMTE

Here are 3 times Moonstreaker and Swerve nearly kissed

Or also known as…

3 times where Moonie and Swerve shippers were close to tears.

Attempt 1.

Christmas mistake.

It had taken a lot to convince Magnus for Swerve to be allowed to have an official Christmas party.

Thankfully Moonie managed to give a compelling argument for the party.

Magnus sitting at his desk: “I have read your email and seen your charts. But I still need one more reason why I should allow this festivity to continue. It is not even a Cybertronian holiday, it is an Earth holiday. More than half of the crew have not even been to Earth.” Moonstreaker: “It will increase crew morale and increase team building skills.” Magnus hums unconvinced. Moonstreaker: “And bonus, it will keep Rodimus in one place and contained.” Magnus stops to think about the idea. Moonstreaker: “And I will finish his late work before the party.” Magnus: “Normally I would be against another crew member doing the captains work… but I do need those files… Very well, the festivities are approved—” BANG! Magnus and Moonstreaker jump from the noise outside the office and open the door to see what happened. Whirl is scrambling from the floor and running down the hall. Whirl: “MOONIE DID IT! You owe me 15 shanix Cyclonus!”

The party did in fact boost the crew’s morale.

Well, the engex did help too.

Speaking of engex, Swerve was passing drinks and cubes out faster than usual.

Moonstreaker decided to help the bartender pass out the drinks.

It lessened the load and gave an excuse for them to talk more.

Everything was going great at the party.

Rodimus and Drift were singing ‘All I want for Christmas is you’.

Ratchet was defiantly not blushing at the bar when Drift would wink at him from time to time.

Tailgate was signing him and Cyclonus for the next round.

Several Earth Christmas shows were playing on the monitors.

Moonie swore that she saw Brainstorm and Roller shed a tear watching the Rudolph movie.

The perfect time for Whirl to execute his plan.

This was for the sake of his Amica!

Whirl sits next to Moonstreaker and pulls a plant over her and Swerve’s helm. Swerve squeaks a bit seeing the plant. Swerve: “Whirl… where did you get that?” Whirl: “A little betting online. Now, I’m no expert on Earth culture, but I’m pretty sure when mistletoe—” Moonstreaker: “That’s not mistletoe.” Whirl: “…what?” Moonstreaker taking one of the leaf’s of the plant: “This is Holly Whirl. It’s a common mistake between this and mistletoe. I can actually pull up a photo if you give me a few minutes, left my data pad in my room. Wait here!” Moonstreaker runs out of the bar. Swerve has a slight smile on his face and goes back to making drinks. Whirl stomps on the plant and goes back to his table.

Attempt 2.

Crate moving.

Swerve had just received his newest shipment of new cube and drink glasses to replace broken ones.

Moonstreaker was helping him and Ten.

She was on break and saw that he needed help, nothing else.

Ten had his servos with the biggest boxes while Moonie and Swerve had their servos filled with the boxes.

And Whirl was lurking behind the corner…

Whirl sticks his pede out and trips Moonstreaker. Moonstreaker yelps as the boxes go flying through the air. Swerve tries to stop her from falling but ends up getting crushed by her frame. Swerve landed flat on his back. Moonstreaker had both her servos on either side of his helm and faceplate inches away from his. Swerve whispering: “Moonie?” Moonstreaker attentively looking into his visor: “You, okay?” Swerve nods slowly. Whirl was almost shaking with excitement! Their faces slowly inching closer… Ten: “Ten!” Ten gently pulled Moonstreaker off of Swerve. He softly brushes the dust off her before helping Swerve up. Moonstreaker patting Ten’s shoulder: “Thank you Ten.” Ten smiles: “Ten! Ten!” Whirl is clenching his claws tightly and resisting the urge to punch the wall again. He was on thin ice from the last time he did that, and Moonie was around.

Attempt 3.

Lone songs.

It was near closing time at the bar.

The only ones around were familiar faces and regulars.

And as usual, Moonstreaker was at the bar with Swerve, listening to his day with a smile on her face.

The bot only got up to change the music every so often.

Its not like the others minded anyways.

Whirl sighing with his helm on the table. Tailgate patting his helm: “It’ll be okay Whirl.” Whirl sighs again. Rewind: “The two have to come to some kind of conclusion sooner or later. They aren’t dumb.” Chromedome: “Oblivious is the correct word.” Rewind elbows his Conjunx a bit before turning to Whirl. Cyclonus: “I still do not understand why you are so invested in getting Moonstreaker and Swerve together.” Whirl: “It’s because—” Rewind: “Shh! Guys look!” The 5 mechs look over at the bar and see Moonstreaker getting a bit closer to Swerve. The bartender even looked like he was moving in too. Whirl: “Rewind… please tell me you’re…” Rewind: “Always recording.” The two bots at the counter seemed to be getting closer and closer… WHAM! Rodimus burst through the bar doors. Rodimus: “Moonie!” Moonstreaker and Swerve jumped back leaving a large gap in between them. Moonstreaker quickly stood up and went over to her brother. Moonstreaker: “Rodimus, what happened?” Rodimus takes her servo and starts marching out the door. Rodimus: “You forgot the Uno match! I had everything ready for me to beat your sorry behind ready!” Moonstreaker: “You mean I’m going to kick your metal behind when I win.” Rodimus: “Yeah right!” The siblings’ bickering faded out as they left the bar. Chromedome: “Did—What—How…” Cyclonus: “That was… unexpected…” Tailgate: “Aww. Look at Swerve.” Swerve had a somber look on his face as he finished cleaning the rest of his cubes. Rewind looks over at Whirl, whose yellow optic had shrunk to the size of a pin. Rewind: “Umm… Whirl?” Whirl stands up and begins to walk out of the bar. Cyclonus getting up: “Whirl, where are you going?” Whirl: “To either drink some more engex in my room or commit arson, I’ll figure it out when on the way.”

Any Moonie and Swerve shipper on the Lost Light

[thrawns-babygirl]

Making Eyes (Tech x F!Reader)

Hello Tech Girlies (GN)

So! A lot of emotions are running high after yesterday huh? I totally understand TBH, while I am a Crosshair Girlie at heart, I do also adore Tech and I can empathize with some of the emotions yall are going through.

This was so much fun to write and it turned into the longest thing I have ever written so I hope you all enjoy. Feedback is greatly appreciated.

And yes, Phee is in this story but she is like, the ultimate wing woman dw, fully platonic.

Rating: E (18+) Summary: Tech has been giving you eyes forever now, and Phee takes it upon herself to help him talk to you Warnings: Oral (M!Receiving), grinding, unprotected PiV, Creampies Word Count: 4300+

Masterlist

Tech was staring at you. Again.

I was a daily occurrence at this point, whenever you would visit Cid’s Parlour you would hang out with Omega, bring Wrecker some food, play a couple games of Dejarik or Sabacc with Echo or simply have a few drinks with the boys. It was a nice piece of normalcy for the squad of rogue clones. It was nice having a friend.

“You know, starin’ at her isn’t gonna get her to talk to you” Phee sat down on the stool next to tech, placing a hand on his shoulder as she took a sip of her drink. Tech sighed, lips tightening to a thin line as he took one last look at you before turning to the pirate. Sorry, liberator of ancient artifacts.

“I do not understand your obsession with getting her and I to talk” Tech replied taking a sip of his drink, eyeing you over the rim of the glass. Phee just chuckled “because you got it bad Brown Eyes” polishing off her drink and motioning the bar tender to bring her another she stared him down. It was so painfully obvious to everyone that Tech did indeed ‘have it bad’ for you but he just… had no idea what to do, and Tech never had no idea what to do. He was the one with the plans, back up plans and back up plans for those back up plans, but when it came to you his mind simply… stopped working.

“Look, its painful watching you make eyes at her across the bar every time she comes in, you should just go up and talk to her. Talking is your specialty, there’s gotta be somethin’ that brain of yours can come up with to woo her” Tech frowned. It’s not like he hadn’t tried coming up with something to say to you it was just… he was never properly socialised to interact with women, so far Cid and Phee were the only adult women he had interacted with for an extended period of time outside of the likes of Nala Se and the Kaminoans. He knew, in theory, what he could say to you, but he had no practical data to go off of. He had been involved in maybe two or three one night stands before the fall of the Republic, and they were almost always rushed, semi pleasurable ways to blow off steam. He's never been worried about rejection before. And the thought of you rejecting him sent cold shocks of fear rushing down his spine.

Phee sighed… this was gonna take more work than she thought. “I simply… Do not know what to do” he mumbled, it was always hard for Tech to admit when he didn’t know something, it was his sole purpose in life to know things, to always have answers and solutions. The tightness in his chest and the weight in his stomach was something he was very much not used to, even while on a battlefield knee deep in mud with driods closing in on all sides he had never felt this amount of uncertainty.

“You just gotta work the charm, tell her she looks pretty, ask about her day… that kinda thing. Ask her to play a game of dejarik and strike up a conversation that way… and don’t look now but she’s coming over this way” Tech choked on his drink, coughing spilling some of the contents on his pants. Great now he looks like a fool.

When he turned around, he saw you stifling a giggle as you slid onto the stool on the other side of Phee, asking the bartender for a drink. “Hey sugar, what are you up to this time of night” Phee makes such easy conversation with you, it makes him jealous. Why couldn’t he just find the words, why couldn’t he swallow his fear and just talk to you. He can talk for hours about anything. If only you would ask him about the components of a hyperdrive or about the capacitors or about-

“Wow is that true Tech?” Tech is ripped from his thoughts as he looks over at you, you’re smiling at him with wide, beautiful, eyes. “Pardon?” he asks lamely, inwardly kicking himself for not paying attention. “I was just telling her about the races on Safa Toma” Phee smirks over at him, bringing her drink up to her lips before inclining her head as if to say ‘go on’.

“Yes I did partake in the Riot Races on Safa Toma multiple rotations ago. It was on a whim in order to help Cid settle some debts” your eyes widen slightly. Okay maybe he could do this. He inwardly thanks Phee before launching into the specifics of why he was racing, what happened with Tey-0, the modifications on his racer he had to do prior to the race, his strategies and to his surprise you were listening with bated breath, hanging on every word he was saying. Your elbows resting on the bar, drink long forgotten as the hours dragged on. From there the conversation flowed naturally, reminding himself of what Phee had said he asks you about your day, about what you were doing at work, your last few games of dijarek against Echo. He listens as you lament about not being able to beat his brother “perhaps I could show you some strategies. I have played multiple games against Echo and could show you not only specific manoeuvres that would work against him specifically, but also the game as a whole” your smile makes his insides melt.

“Well, I’m gonna turn in for the night, I’ll see you two around” Phee places a hand on both of Tech’s and your shoulders before standing up and walking towards the door, giving a polite wave to the other batchers as she exits. Leaving Tech alone with you. His thoughts catch up with him again without having Phee as a buffer, would you still be interested in talking to him? Just him? Would he even know what to say?

“So, what else do you do for fun? I only ever see you all hanging around here” your smile is so genuine. He would have to thank Phee later for laying the groundwork for him as conversation continues to flow smoothly, effortlessly almost. Much to his surprise you actually do ask him about hyperdrives and how they operate, telling him about how you always wanted to be a mechanic, but the universe had other plans for you. He’s never been more enraptured with anyone than he is with you right now. You listen to his every word, asking questions, enjoying his answers, giggling at his dry wit.

It's only when he notices that there is no one else in the parlour anymore that he checks his chrono and balks at the time. You sigh “Maybe I should get going, I know that Cid doesn’t like just anyone staying after she closes” you stretch your arms above your head as you stand up and Tech can’t help the way his eyes run down your body as you move. Tech is not a spiritual man, he is a man of science, but he believes that you are the closest thing to a goddess that he will ever encounter.

“It is very late, perhaps I should accompany you back to your domicile” he gets off his stool, motioning towards the door. You hesitate slightly before nodding, a slight dusting of colour on your cheeks. “I would very much like that, Tech” you smile at him again. And by the stars he swears it is a sight he would never tire of.

The walk back to your apartment is mostly spent in companionable silence, sometimes one of you would make an observation to the other, but otherwise it is nice. Comfortable even. You, however are entirely oblivious to Tech’s internal struggle. He wants nothing more than to tell you everything he’s feeling, divulge his every emotion to you as you walk next to one another down the quiet streets of Ord Mantell. He just wishes he could find the words, tell you enough without telling you too much, without frightening you off with the sheer depth of what he feels for you. Every now and then your hands brush, fingers grazing slightly as you continue walking. He expects you to pull away, he expects you to recoil but you don’t. So, like the inquisitive man he is, he continues brushing his hand against yours, periodically at first before making the action seem more intentional, watching you out of the corner of his eye to gauge your reaction to the contact.

After the third or fourth obviously intentional graze of his hand against yours you surprise him by intwining your fingers with his, silently, your eyes never once leaving the path ahead of you. Tech’s brain completely fries. He has no idea where to go from here, maker he never thought he would even get this far with you and now he is in uncharted territory. Once again at a complete loss for words, it takes a moment for him to realise that you have come to a stop in front of an apartment building. Your hand leaves his and while it’s not a cold night he misses your warmth already. He wishes he could simply hold your hand forever and never let you go. He has never really been a fan of other people touching him, he has been actually quite touch averse his whole life, but something about the softness of your skin and the meaning of the contact has him longing for more.

“This is me” you say with a small smile, you look almost embarrassed, and it takes Tech a moment to figure out why “We… we passed this location approximately 20 standard minutes prior” he says with a raised eyebrow. You shuffle from one foot to the other, avoiding eye contact as you blush all the way from your neck to the tips of your ears. “I uh… I wanted to keep spending time with you” you let out a small laugh, still looking anywhere but him as you approach you door. “Would you… would you like to come in?” your hopeful smile is breathtaking, if only you knew how unnecessary all of your nerves were, if only you knew how much he too wanted to continue spending tonight with you, as well as every night beyond this one.

Kriff… the realisation hits him like a speeder. You may actually… return his feelings. You could potentially be interested in pursuing him… romantically. His thoughts grind to a halt as he realises he still has not responded to you, your face becoming slightly crestfallen as you presume his lack of answer is a refusal. “Yes! Yes of course… I would uh love to” inwardly cringing at the volume and excitement present in his voice Tech clears his throat as you lead him inside your home. If he is honest with himself he is very curious to look around your home, to learn a little bit more information about you without seeming too eager, eyes darting around to take in as many details as he can.

Your living space is tidy and modest, a well-worn couch, a small kitchen area, a door leading off to what he assumes to be a bedroom as well as a holo projector on the wall facing the couch. Shelves hold up various holos of what looks to be you and your family and friends. It brings a smile to his face as he looks around getting this insight into the way you live, the life you lead, you as a person.

“Caf? I know it’s late but you seem like the kinda guy who lives off the stuff” you ask, he chuckles and nods “sorry its only the crappy instant stuff, work has been kinda slow recently” you begin pouring the powdered caf into two mugs before boiling some water. “No apologies necessary, I have lived off military rations and bad caf my whole life, I am very used to it by now” the smile on his face grows as he watches you work, observing your small idiosyncrasies as you go, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth as you pour the water, focusing on not burning yourself, fanning the steaming cups with your hands before adding a small amount of sweetener to both cups and bringing them over towards Tech who is still standing in the middle of your living space.

“Feel free to take a seat, I know it’s not much but it’s home” you smile and Tech has the overwhelming urge to take your face in his hands and connect his lips with yours. Would you allow that? Would you want that from him? You seem to be showing interest but he has no way of knowing how far you are willing to go, did you want him romantically or were you just being friendly and hospitable?

The two of you make easy conversation, sipping on your caf and enjoying each other’s company as the projector plays a muted holo in front of you. You slowly edging closer to him on the couch until your sides are pressed against each other. Tech finished his caf a long time ago, but is hesitant to place his mug down on the table in front of him, if he does he has no reason to stay here, he has no reason not to go back towards the parlour and his brothers and leave you for the night. Your eyes scan over the aurebesh subtitles of the holo in front of you. “I’ve seen this holovid at least a dozen times. It’s about a group of smugglers trying to make a better life for themselves. Makes me think of you and your brothers a little bit” you lean your head on his shoulder, the contact making Tech’s hear beat faster, his hands becoming clammy as he takes a leap of faith and moves his hand over your shoulder, letting you move closer into his side.

You press your body as close to him as you can, and Tech decides then and there that should he die tonight, he will die the happiest man in the galaxy. He slowly begins soothing circles over your shoulder as the two of you continue watching the vid in front of you, now with the sound turned up slightly. The scene where one of the smugglers kisses the woman he is in love with flashes in front of him and he is once again flooded with the indescribable urge to press his lips against yours. You fail to stifle a yawn as you rest against him and Tech looks down at you, eyes half lidded, totally content.

“I think perhaps it is time that I made my departure. You appear to be quite fatigued and I am sure my brothers are wondering as to my whereabouts” the moment the words leave his mouth he regrets it, watching as your content demeanour is tinged with a hint of sadness. He simply did not wish to overstay his welcome. He opens his mouth to perhaps ask you to dinner tomorrow night when his com chimes. Cursing under his breath he answers.

“Tech? Where are you? Do you know what time it is?” Hunter seems slightly panicked and Tech feels a twinge of guilt about not telling his brothers where he was going, he was simply so caught up in spending time with you that it slipped his mind to let his brothers know that he was leaving with you to walk you home.

“Yes, my apologies Hunter I was just out having a walk and simply lost track of the time, I shall be back within the next hour” Tech felt your move out from under his arm and longed for your contact again.

“Just having a walk huh… sure, well I’m sure you can tell me all about your walk when you get back. No need to hurry just comm if you’re going to be later than an hour” Tech replies in the affirmative before shutting off his com. Hunter knows something, perhaps he saw you two leaving together from the parlour? Maybe he heard the soft sound of the Holoprojector in the background, either way he was in for some brotherly banter when he got back.

He turns to you, not realising how close together you were. His eyes dart down to your lips and he watches as yours do the same. His mind fries again, does he make a move? Do you want that? Everything so far tonight has been highly indicative that you are interested in him romantically but what if-

His thoughts are cut off as you place your lips softly on his before pulling back and looking into his eyes with a soft smile. His face is flushed, his lips are slightly parted as he breathes heavily. He is almost certain that you can hear his heart thudding against his rib cage due to how fast it’s beating and before he can give himself a chance to second guess his decision, he moves his hands up to your face and presses his lips against yours with all the passion that he can muster. He’s not an overly experienced kisser but he is a very quick learner, he lets you take the lead before he gets more comfortable, lips moving against yours in a passionate dance as you tangle your hands into his hair before reluctantly pulling back for air.

Your kiss swollen lips spread into a smile as half lidded eyes stare up at him “I hope that was alright” you say as if that wasn’t something Tech has wanted to do since he met you all those rotations ago. “That was more than alright… that was perfect, you are perfect” You move in to kiss him again, and again and again as you slowly move on top of him so that you are straddling him on the couch, parting briefly to catch your breath before continuing your heated session. Tech has been hard since you first placed your lips on his but the pressure of you sitting atop him has him acutely aware of his predicament. You grind your hips down against the hardness straining against his pants and Tech breaks the kiss to let out a sinful moan of your name, bucking his hips against yours, greedy for the feeling of you. You look up at him with lust blown eyes, panting slightly as you move your hips against his clothed erection. “Let me know if we’re moving too fast…” you mumble out as your lips move to his neck sucking dark marks onto the skin there as your hips continue their sinful movement against his. “Of course mesh’la” he pants, hands finding their way to your hips to help guide your movements against him as his head falls against the back of the couch “but I assure you there is nothing we could do tonight that I haven’t been dreaming about since I met you”

You begin working on the fastenings of his vest, pulling it open as he moves to assist you in removing the fabric from his body before your hands find their way underneath the hem of his shirt, toying with it before he grabs it and pulls it over his head leaving his upper body completely bare before you. You knew he was a soldier, but you never expected him to be quite this built. His chest and arms nothing but lean muscles and while you are busy staring down at his perfectly sculpted body, he begins ridding you of your clothing, pulling your shirt over your head and moving his hands around your back to the fastening of your bra before hesitating for a moment “M-may I?” his stutter is endearing as you nod and feel his nimble fingers work against the offending garment leaving you totally topless before him.

He pauses for a moment, simply taking in the sight before him, committing it to memory before slowly lifting his hands to your breasts, cupping them in his large palms, rolling and tweaking your nipples causing you to arch against him. You hear him speak in hushed whispers, a language you don’t understand before he lowers his lips to one of your pebbled nipples and places it in his mouth. Lathing is tongue against it, sucking and licking before releasing it with a soft ‘pop’ and giving the same attention to your other breast, his hips bucking up against your core the entire time.

After his lips release your nipple, he looks up at you through his yellow tinted goggles “I must admit mesh’la,  It has been a very long time since I participated in any… intimate activities and I do not wish to disappoint you” you smile down at him and he feels his cock throb against the confines of his pants “you don’t need to be perfect Tech, and I wont be disappointed as long as I’m doing this with you” you grind your hips against him for emphasis before standing up and removing your pants, Tech’s eyes trained on you the entire time, watching you reveal more of yourself to him.

You get to your knees before him and he automatically spreads his legs allowing you more space between them as he holds his breath. Your fingers go to the fastening of his pants and you look up at him, with a small nod you undo them and free his weeping length. You gasp slightly at the sheer size of him, he is long, thick and leaking precum. He lets out a hiss through clenched teeth as you wrap your hand around him and give him a few experimental pumps, his hips bucking into your hand for more friction as he screws his eyes shut and lets his head fall back.

Lost in the feeling of your hand wrapped around him, he lets out a sinful moan as your hand is replaced by the wet heat of your mouth, hands going to the back of your head to tangle in your hair as your lips wrap around his throbbing length. “O-oh mesh’la you’re perfect ahh- absolutely p-perfect” he grunts out as he feels himself hit the back of your throat. You drag your lips up his length before settling into a steady rhythm. Tech loses himself in the feeling of your mouth against his cock, speaking in a combination of basic and Mando’a, praising you, telling you how amazing you feel as his hand rests on the back of your head.

It's not long before he pulls you off of him, a string of saliva connected from your mouth to his cock as you look up at him “I apologise, any more of that and I would ejaculate prematurely and I wish for this to be a pleasurable experience for both of us” he impresses himself by managing to speak full sentences as he pants, he was sure that his capabilities for speech left him the moment you wrapped your lips around him. You smile, pumping his slick length a few times before standing, ridding yourself of your panties and returning to your previous position of straddling his lap, now with no barriers between you.

Tech reaches his hand between your legs, fingers brushing against your folds “Kriff… y-you’re so wet mesh’la” he grits out, the feeling of your soaking entrance almost enough to send him over the edge. “It’s all for you Tech” you whisper into his ear, your breath fanning over his skin making him shudder as you slowly lower yourself onto him.

If the feeling of your mouth was intense, Tech was not ready for the feeling of your tight walls wrapping around him. It took every ounce of control not to paint your walls with his seed the moment your heat fully engulfed him. His fingers were digging into your thighs, his eyes were screwed shut as he focused on his breathing as he felt his length throb inside of you. You rested your head against his shoulder, moaning out his name as the feeling of his girth overwhelmed you. After waiting a moment for both of you to adjust you slowly raise yourself up off him and slam your hips back down, drawing a ragged moan from the both of you. Tech simply held on for dear life as you took control, riding him as he babbled and rambled about how good you felt, about how you were so tight about how he had never felt anything this good.

It took all of his remaining brain power to bring one of his hands down to start rubbing tight circles against your clit, causing your walls to flutter around him, clenching and squeezing around his cock as he drew ever closer to his peak.

“W-where” he manages to groan out between loud moans of your name.

“I-inside- ah-” your permission was all he needed to be pushed him over the edge into euphoria, his nerves set alight as he pumped rope after rope of hot cum inside you, filling you up and spilling out of you as you reach your own peak atop him, your clenching walls bordering on overstimulation but he would never complain.

You led the two of you to your bedroom before reminding him to tell hunter that he would not be home tonight, Hunter telling him to simply stay safe and that he would see him tomorrow morning. Exhausted and oh so content, it wasn’t long before the two of you passed out in each other’s arms, wrapped in your soft blankets, entirely ignorant to the outside world.

The next morning after another round of lovemaking, Tech returns to the parlour, his brothers and Phee present around the bar. Wrecker lets out a holler as he see’s the dark marks you left on him the night before, smacking him on the back as he makes his way to the bar. Tech slides into the stool next to Phee as she smirks over towards him “I’m glad you two finally worked it out” she sips her drink “Yes… Thank you for your help”

I thought I could try and help recontextualize the relationship between Tech and Phee a little bit so let me know if it helps soothe some of that heartache because I genuinely love Phee, but I totally understand the emotions if Tech is your man. She wants yall together as much as you do dw

@where-is-my-mind-tho @starborncyare @antishadow2021 @healingskywalker @crosshairlovebot@ttzamara@sunshinesdaydream@bambambunny@madameminor

[bastardofvairemont]

| A Spring Soirée | - An RP Event

| A Spring Soirée | Hosted by Ives Mirier & Sebastian de Vairemont

The social season has begun and it seems the Bastard of Vairemont will not be excluded. With his mourning soon to end, Sebastian and his paramour, Ives Mirier, have chosen to make their social debut by hosting a ball. Invitations have gone out to all of noble birth, wealth, or significant standing in the Holy See as well as those at all acquainted with the couple. All are invited to join them in celebrating spring and the love that comes with it.    

Please join us for a lovely evening of dancing and refreshments! Feel free to bring a date or two. The more the merrier. 

Things to keep in mind OOCly:

While we will be OOCly located in the Lavender Beds, the event will ICly take place in Ishgard. 

Bartenders and wait staff are NPC for this event. We encourage you to RP them as you see fit.  

What: A Spring Soirée Where: | Dynamis Data Center | Maduin | Lavender Beds | Ward 20 | Plot 41 | When: Tuesday, May 14th 8PM EST

[delta-pavonis]

I would love to hear more about Raspberries and Rum?

*cackles*

OKAY. So this came from a conversation that I had with @wordsinhaled in, no joke, NOVEMBER 2022. And I still haven't written all of it. BUT some of the bits from our conversation are goddamned SOLID GOLD and I am cracking myself up all over again reading the transcript. [Important background science here (just read the title).] Here is me just copy-pasta-ing from Discord with no indication of who is saying what:

hob getting wasted on dream’s jizz because he tastes like a good mixed drink suddenly a thing i need to see Hob as New Inn bartender keeps trying to make a new rum cocktail with raspberry flavor and no one understands why referencing it makes Hob blush, it is just a reference to that cool space data, right? now suddenly need a 5+1 where hob keeps making dream trial raspberry rum cocktails until they find the Perfect One and dream is very bemused Gotta keep going back and comparing to the actual source material apparently raspberry season in the UK starts in june where he’s like fucking. up handmaking raspberry simple syrup in the middle of the night and dream is like “ah, offerings” Because, honestly, he is technically trying to figure out a way to have everyone who orders the drink get drunk on something that tastes like his husband's jizz? And I find that fucking hilarious? Definitely deranged Hob humor mainly because he’s like, do i want everyone to suck your dick? this is reserved for me but do i want everyone to know the JOY of this taste? perhaps However, first time a university student of his orders the cocktail, once it is on the menu, Hob has A Moment of Regret™️  just a moment though i wonder if dream is aware he tastes like this or if he just. came up with the most reasonable taste he felt he would have when composing his physical body, which of course would be nothing like human and of course some esoteric shit like didn’t even think about it once so he keeps trying this drink and being like yes my very competent bartender husband perfecting his fancy raspberry drink i am so proud but hob is looking perpetually more glinty around the eyes each time he gets closer to the mark and dream is like, cottoning on that Something Is Up eventually dream is like “there is some... significance here. that i am missing.” and hob has to turn around and hide his face in his hands because somehow he never thought he’d have to Explain what he was doing especially because i feel like this would be some shit hob would try to do one time in the middle of the night while planning the summer drinks menu and then somehow he’d be neck deep in recipes from google weeks later but then dream is fucking. super out of left field when he finds out like... “you are crafting a libation. to me.” and hob is like uhhhhhhh no???? not actually???? am i??? I mean... just... based... on you? Hob will argue semantics on this dream is like you’re distilling my essence into a drink that all your patrons will imbibe and hob is like uhhh maybe? uuuhhh... maybe I am? okay but dream like THAT’S KIND OF HOT and hob is like I WASN’T TRYING TO BE HOT I WAS BEING STUPID and dream is just. yes. my husband can be very stupid. and very hot "These two things are not mutually exclusive, my dear Hob." of course this has to culminate in “you mean to tell me you don’t know you taste like raspberries and rum? you just made yourself taste all... lovely and you had no idea?” “i had not the faintest idea, indeed.” “you’ve never...?” “i have had no occasion to... sample myself, as it were.” “sample... jesus. alright. what are you, an hors d’oeuvre at the department party?” “no. but it seems i could be its signature drink.” DREAM IS A LIL BITCH hob’s inner exhibitionist cackling at forcing his staid ass colleagues to drink this drink while dream broods in the corner indulgently eyeing his antics everyone like “wow robbie this is a GREAT cocktail mind if i nick the recipe off you” and hob is like “ah no actually, it’s a bit of a jealously guarded secret” NO. Dream overhears and that's how he introduces himself, the little shit "And you are?" "Oh, I am Hob's Jealously Guarded Secret."

Here is the first chapter of the 5+1 that is in that WIP file (under cut because NSFW - cw for drunkenness and blowjobs):

One: May

It starts as a joke. A joke in Hob’s head that he doesn’t tell anyone. Because he knows that after this many years walking God’s green Earth that he can have a slightly warped sense of humor. 

So Hob keeps his motivations to himself and dusts off his bartending skills, back from when he had just opened The New Inn and was still getting the staff up-to-snuff. And then he sets to work. 

He has to figure out the rum first. Actually, Hob knows exactly which rum he would like to use, the second batch of ron miel honey rum by Destilerías Arehucas produced shortly after they opened on Gran Canaria island in 1884, but as far as he can tell there are only three bottles of it left in the world and they are all in his personal collection. 

So Hob called some friends and obtained as wide a variety of current lines of Canary Island honey rum that he could manage. He bided his time until the next Friday night, poured out a shot of each in a row on his coffee table, and proceeded to get fantastically pissed.

(Could Hob have sipped and spit out the liquor as he tasted them? Sure. Was this more fun? Absolutely.)

It was only after Hob was well toasted that Dream sidestepped into his living room. 

Hob was off the couch and on his knees in front of Dream before he even really decided what to do with his drunk-ass self. He was nuzzling into the fly of familiar black jeans and Dream was letting out a surprised hiccup of a moan and Hob was pretty sure his brain had dissolved into giddy bubbles of lust and want.

Long fingers wound into Hob’s hair and held him there as he rocked forward, purring, “Why hello to you, too, Hob Gadling. I did not expect ah!” A gasp when Hob started peeling away the clothing. “Expect quite this manner of hospitality upon my arrival.”

“Gotta…” Hob had the single-minded determination only liquor could provide. “Need to check…”

Dream made a curious hum of an inquiry at that, but Hob didn’t have time to explain. The taste of the rum was already being diluted by all the saliva pooling in his mouth and he needed to compare them. 

It had been just over a year since His Stranger had walked back into his life. Slightly less than that since they realized what absolute idiots they were for each other. It was enough time, given the many many repetitions Hob had to practice, for him to get really fucking good at getting Dream off with his mouth.

Hob, in his infinite need to stroke his own ego, had timed it once. Well, more than once. Many times actually. The current record was 143 seconds from first press of lips to spend. Hob drunkenly thought he could do better than that. Not that he had his phone handy. Ah well, that wasn’t a good reason to not try.

Dream finished getting hard in Hob’s throat, sobbed as Hob swallowed repeatedly. His lover was shaking with it already, Hob preened distantly, and moved to press the tips of his fingers just so into Dream’s perineum. Another press and stroke behind Dream’s balls, this time while Hob sucked with his entire lung capacity as he backed away, and then the Lord Morpheus was coming with a strangled shout right onto Hob’s tongue.

Hob savored it for a moment, eyes closed, cataloging the taste, before swallowing and scrabbling away from Dream to the table. He grabbed the bottle of what he thought was the best flavor match and took a pull from it.

“Oh yeah,” Hob’s ass hit the floor with a thump. “That’s it.”

[mychlapci]

MY LIEGE!! I have been educated on the swerveger.... 1. It sounds like a prime reason for magnus to take that bar license away 2. There's an ask about a bot who doesn't know what it is and ordering it. And like. I think that should be prowl actually. Doesn't matter how he got on the lost light the important thinf is that he's not crew and he didjt know and it makes him really horny

YESSSS make Prowl eat the swerveger… He only ordered that stupid burger because he was already idling at the bar, and Swerve said he has to order something if he wants to stay. The nerve of that little bartender… Fine, Prowl had nowhere else to be for now, he might as well fuel up.

Usually, Swerve makes a show out of fucking the burger in front of the customer, but since it’s Prowl… he’ll keep it a surprise <3

As the food arrives, Prowl notices that the rest of the bar is watching him now. Maybe there's some unspoken rule about the burger? No matter, he wouldn’t care anyways. Prowl puts his data-pad on the counter and picks the huge burger up. It’s really big, too big for one hand, he has to use both to hold it. He might not finish it. Scratch that, he already knows that he won’t finish it. It’s impossible. Maybe that’s why everyone is staring? They think it’d be funny if he wasn’t able to finish it, for sure… Well, doesn’t bother Prowl.

He takes his first bite, and it immediately tastes delicious. It’s really good. It’s also incredibly greasy, the various sauces spilling all over his plate. Of course, some of it ends up dripping down onto his hood, but he’s not undistinguished enough to start wiping it off and licking his fingers just yet. What really bothers him about the burger experience is the fact that all the other bar patrons are now sitting closer, asking probing questions. Does it taste good? Are you gonna clean that up? You’re making a real mess, sir. It’s making Prowl weirdly flustered. All that sauce just keeps trickling down his hands and arms, dripping down onto his thighs from his elbows, and he’s getting so warm all over…

Did Swerve put something in his burger? He must have, otherwise his panels wouldn’t be burning so much. Yet he can’t stop eating, not even when he realizes that some of the sauce has a slightly different colour than the rest…

Maybe once he's halfway through the burger, panting and covered in the sauce, he’s so stupidly horny that a bot can sit right next to him and start groping his panels without repercussions. They snap back embarrassingly fast, revealing Prowl’s soaked valve... mhmm I want his doorwings shaking as he leans back and lets mecha smear burger sauce all over his pussy, fucking it all the way into him while Prowl continues to eat despite being full already. Who would’ve thought, the one thing that can finally cure Prowl’s shitty attitude is a burger full of cum... He's a hungry, horny slut for the next couple of hours <3

Hopefully, Rodimus walks in on the scene and gives Prowl a smug talking to about how he should’ve asked what goes into The Swerveger… So reckless to just eat it without checking the ingredients, that's not quite like you, Prowl ;)

[hamsterbellbelle]

 [Tuning] Miscellaneous No Change Outfit Override

[DOWNLOAD]  || [DOWNLOAD - doctors/patients GTW]

alt. DOWNLOAD 2

UPDATED: Feb 21st, 2024 - added a separate file.package for doctors (NPCs and Players) and patients [for Get to Work].

UPDATED: Jan 30th, 2024 - added City-Festival vendors, Bartenders, Bubble tea counter vendors to wear Everyday Outfit.

UPDATED: June 19th, 2023 - for player magic realm outfits. See bottom of post for details.

⚠️This is an override. May conflict with any mods that uses the same tunings.

This mod sets the following outfits into Everyday Outfits:

Various walkby scenario, including tourists in San Myshuno (City Living) and Del Sol Valley (Get Famous). Excluding Mt. Komorebi (Snowy Escape - they’ll still be wearing winter outfits).

General stall vendors, including City-Festivals vendors, excluding Selvadorada (Jungle Adventure).

Nannies (base game)

Restaurant Critics (Dine Out)

Players’ outfit in Magic Realm

Bartenders

Bubble tea counter vendor (High School Years)

**Doctors and Patients (Get to Work) on separate file.package. ⚠️Patients could bug out and generate new Everyday Outfit if they had NPC jobs.

This mod does not generate new outfits, it uses the sim’s Everyday Outfit.

⚠️Sims will still sometimes wear weather-appropriate outfits (Seasons). 

🐹I just put a bunch of random stuffs in the .package that I want the sims to be wearing everyday _(:з」∠)_

🐹You may use Sims 4 Studio to delete whichever code you do not wish to be in your game. Look for the 2nd line in the code (or the names on the left-side bar) to identify the functions, then delete both Situation Job Tuning AND Sim Data. 🐹For the tourist and vendor outfits, delete the “Snippet Tuning” as well. 

⬆️If you don’t want sims to be wearing weather-based outfits, open Sims 4 Studio and uncheck the “Apply Weather Based Uniform” under the Tuning Editor. 

🧡I also recommend using Zero’s “Assign NPC Jobs” to assign your own sims as vendors for a cool vibe🐹👍I also use their “No Random Townies” mod to stop the spawning of EA’s random townies and NPC.

Recommended alternative mods:

Fashion Authority

UPDATE: June 19th, 2023

added the override for player's outfit in the magic realm. Player Spellcaster will now wear Everyday outfits in the magic realm.

⬆️may conflict with any mods that contains the above snippet tuning

UPDATE: Feb 21st, 2024

added a separate file.package for doctors and patients [for Get to Work]

⬆️ may conflict with any mods that contains the above tunings