#used to have an employee who needed to sit or to lean at the very least and she said I was the only manager who allowed it

[san8ny]

Honestly, GeekSquad! Ellie

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s really got nothing going on for her other than updating her LinkedIn picture here and there, alternating between her college ID photo and a the default flower.

GeekSquad! Ellie who spends her days sitting in uncomfortable swivel chairs, and having to tiredly explain over and over again to elderly women that the promotional sign outside does NOT mean ‘hand in your old phones and get free smart ones!’

‘No ma’am, we don’t take Nokias.’

‘But the sign said give one, get one free!’

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s eyes squint in confusion when she sees you enter from the slide doors, arms crossed as you curiously look around for any standby employees. She doesn’t really ever see hot girls at her location.

GeekSquad! Ellie who practically knocks over some USB stand in her pursuit of getting to you first, which is uncommon since she’s all the way in the back.

GeekSquad! Ellie who notices your pursed lips and teary eyes as you show her your broken laptop.

GeekSquad! Ellie who takes you over to the little stand-by bar, setting your device down, which, let’s be honest, was a lost cause from the start.

‘W-will you be able to fix it? I have my senior thesis on there!’ You practically choke up, the mere thought of months of hard work going down the drain making you tremble.

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s suppose to give you the generic capitalistic answering of, ‘Well, you can always make a membership with us and get 20% off a future purch—

“I’ll fix it.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s now being held in a warm embrace by you, your tears now soaking her blue polo workshirt. It’s bad enough you’re pretty, but a pretty crier?

“Thank you so much! God, you don’t even know how much trouble you’ve saved me!” You stumble over words, disoriented as you begin to let go of the lanky girl.

GeekSquad! Ellie who waves a hand in dismissal, scoffing as she leans on the counter, “That thing? Pfft, i’ve done harder things.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who’s lied, and has likely lied to also get this job—but that’s beyond things!

“I just,” You say breathlessly, looking around, “I went to the other branch? Downtown? They said it was over!” You whisper to her, all doe eyed, “you really are amazing.”

GeekSquad! Ellie who blankly stares down at you, she’s always had a thing for frazzled girls such as yourself; the ones who just say the very shit Ellie only watches in cheesy movies.

‘Right..guess you’re in-luck you came here?” She probes, typing your name and number into the system to get you all checked in for an appointment.

‘So lucky.’

GeekSquad! Ellie who after her shift, goes home and makes a bee-line for her room, slamming it shut and shedding her clothes, needing to fuck herself to you while the interaction is still fresh, and the night is still young.

‘S-she said she’s—mm, lucky! f-for me..’ She whimpers, pumping 2 fingers in her drenched pussy, and her other hand busying her perky tits. Her eyes are furrowed, and her teeth threaten to break the skin of her lips from the way she’s biting them; Her messy cunt squelches from the speed she’s going at, cum trailing down her thighs in a sluggish matter.

GeekSquad! Ellie who switches on over to her tummy, raising her ass up as she relentlessly slaps at her swollen pearl through her plethora of orgasms— she thinks you’d do it like this, giving yourself something to cry about. It makes sense to her. She wants to practice on herself to perfect it for you.

GeekSquad! Ellie who, once tired out, realizes how fucked up this just is. I mean, she’s so..perverse. So nasty.. so..so..

so GeekSquad! Ellie

[bunji-enthusiast]

Only Man (Your own love kills)

Note || jealousy scenario rahhh, it’s kinda one? Or isn’t? Idk I went down the hills. Also some context, some humans actually survived the hour of joy, so there is a few mentions of camp stuffs.

WC || 896

Sypnosis || In a world of comfort, seems he can’t begin to fathom the reality of emotions settling within him.

Have you ever been in love?

If he was being honest, life was fuzzy, even more so temperamental that he was from human to dusk and dawn. But he wouldn’t have traded it for anything if it meant he would see you in his non-life or life over and over again.

That is one thing so entirely unique to the quality of dogs, they are loyal and strong with you to the end.

In the sense of irony, he never would’ve expected to be DogDay. But he had long since lived with the idea that he lived this way, to be a leader and a friend to all those he held dear. He never would’ve become anything else, not if he had anything to do with it.

DogDay doesn’t mind sacrificing his own life and body to protect others, to mean if they live. Sure, he may not live to see that aspect he was wholeheartedly himself, that was how he knew he wasn’t completely off the dark end as DogDay.

It was his name and his alone, to be frank; madness, torment and the ripping away of the happiness once had was abnormally flippant to the reality he once knew and loved. DogDay had lived with it, it became the norm for him to live so strongly, trying to be a light those can vy for and not lose themselves in the process.

Love was one remaining factor to his stillborn life, DogDay wasn’t anchoring toward anything. Always having to down his head in order for those alive and their with him meant he could live with that, strong willed humans and toys alike holding their heads up high, that meant he had to stand still and straight so they could see how far they had come.

Hush little baby don’t you cry.

That tune was familiar, was he here? Beyond the specific residence of his permeance, no, he was alive and here. Everyone was okay, camp to be sure, but you too were there. DogDay was content, he didn’t even need words, actions were more than enough.

Everything’s gonna be alright.

You were singing such a wonderful tune, yet a wrenching pit in the gut of his fabricated stomach caused him to think otherwise from the place of his peace. A human male was getting a little too close to you for his liking, trying to stray away from employee regulations no doubt. DogDay wasn’t gonna let that slide, he wasn’t going to allow him to tarnish your personal boundaries and sure as hell was gonna make sure that he knew that.

Stiffen that upper lip, little lady..

DogDay stood up from where he had sat, back being rubbed against the rubble stone wall, for a moment it almost hurt. Yet the pain faded away just as quickly as it came, he began walking, calming himself as your melodic tunes remained ever as wavering to his ears.

All was okay and well between the people in the encampment, strained suffice to say with the amount of space people were left with – but they all had each other to lean and rely on. Not akin to the likes of the Prototype and the rest of his brainwashed lackeys. 

‘Oh CatNap, I wish you could’ve come with us. Why turn to his side?’

DogDay perked up at the whisper shouting his down-trodded ears were picking up, seeing the easel of jealousy churning in his gut. You were trying to turn away the exact guy still with you from which he saw earlier, he turned around from where his body had been hidden from view.

You and the man were greeted by the sight of a very large DogDay.

You set down your guitar, smiling at seeing him. “Hi DogDay! What’s up?” He waved for a moment, then turned to sit down with you and the man. Who seemed to be clearly quivering in half-sighted fear, sensing the intentions of DogDay.

“Nothing to be worried about Angel,” He began, voice still roughed up from previous events. “But is this gentleman bothering you?” DogDay asked, motioning to the man who began inching away from the both of you, seeing as he made (a very clear) mistake.

You waved DogDay off, “Oh this guy? He ain’t bothering me.” Head turning before you had spoke with a hint of finality.

“You were leaving, right?” The man nodded, the look of fear very evident on his poor face. Then he finally walked off with a stride that clearly spoke, ‘Don’t kill me please.’ 

In hindsight, DogDay was going to shield you from him. It seemed that was all it took to get you away from his very slimy presence, he sighed internally, as he wasn’t one to want to cause altercations.

He was a more methodical man – toy? Person? – then that anyway, DogDay then looked up, gaining eye contact with you. With a small wave of his paw in return, “Weren’t you singing? I’d love to hear more of it, Angel.” You smile at him with a scoff escaping you, picking up the guitar to re-adjust your position that you had set your fingers upon the lines originally.

DogDay was glad to be up close to hear your beautiful singing.

Compared to that icky emotion he felt earlier, that was rather confusing as he thought about it.

This was much better.

[thezombieprostitute]

Tech Tuesday: Steve Rogers

Summary: It's only your first day on the job. That's way too soon to have an office crush. Right?

Warnings: None at this time. Please let me know if I missed any!

A/N: Reader is female. No physical descriptors used.

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Don't stare at his ass. Don't stare at his ass. Don't stare at his ass. Your internal mantra had changed from this morning as Steve from IT helped you set up your work laptop. It didn't help that he was currently plugging everything in underneath your desk, his ass just begging to be smacked. It's not like he'd see you ogling him, but your coworkers would.

Then again, some of them had definitely given appreciative looks so maybe they wouldn't judge if you let yourself stare a little?

Steve is suddenly out from under desk and on his feet, cancelling any further moral dilemmas about staring at him. Now you're wondering how such a large man can move as quick and graceful as an acrobat.

"That should be all the network, power and accessories plugged in," he tells you. "Would you please log into the laptop and we can double check?"

You nod as you sit in your chair. You type in your credentials and start testing things out.

Steve leans in close to you, looking over your shoulder, "would you be willing to right click on this icon here?"

His words barely register because you're caught up in feeling the heat emanating from him. You try to take a calming breath and do as he requested.

"Are you okay?"

"Umm...yes?" Your voice sounds shaky even to you.

"Oh, geez," he blushes as he backs away. "I'm so sorry about that. I'm...I'm not always the best judge of personal space." His hand rubs the back of his head and you're practically melting at how adorable he looks with reddened cheeks.

"It's okay," you're quick to reassure. "It just caught me off guard, is all." There's an awkward pause between the two of you before you turn back to your laptop, "so it was this icon, right?"

"Yes," Steve eagerly jumps on the change in topic. "I just need to check some connection settings, make sure you're connected and that the VPN isn't interfering."

Steve gets back to the cubicle he shares with Bucky and lets out a dreamy sigh as he sits. Bucky looks at him with a furrowed brow and he feels himself blushing again.

Before he can get back to work, Pine knocks lightly on the cubicle wall. "Steve, how did setup for the new employee go?"

"It was pretty standard," Steve nods. "I double checked that all of her systems were working and she was able to log in to the needed programs."

"Excellent," Pine nods. "I know it was very unexpected, so thank you for being willing to take on the task."

"Not a problem," he smiles.

Pine leaves and Steve turns back to his computer. He tries to get back to work but is stopped by Bucky.

"That explains all the blushing," Bucky teases, a small smile at the corner of his lips.

Steve feels the heat rushing to his face again. "I don't know what you're talking about," he grumbles.

"Sure you don't."

"It was nothing but doing my job."

"Whatever you gotta tell yourself."

A minute of silence passes before Bucky asks, "so when are you asking her out?"

Steve scoffs, "when you ask out the barista you keep visiting."

Bucky glares at him, "I just prefer their coffee to the swill they have in the break-room."

"Oh?" Steve raises his eyebrows comically high. "For someone who watches their budget, you're sure paying a lot of money to the latte tax."

"I watch my budget so that I can indulge in it," Bucky growls.

"So we're agreed," Steve says. "There's no romantic interest for either of us."

Part 2

Tech Tuesdays Masterlist

Tagging @alicedopey; @darsynia; @delicatebarness; @ellethespaceunicorn; @icefrozendeadlyqueen; @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory; @late-to-the-party-81; @lokislady82 ; @peyton-warren @ronearoundblindly

[fillmeuplikehelium]

Lunch break - Jeong Jaehyun

It makes me so angry to see other men looking at you, I just want you for myself...

Warnings and tags: rated M, dom!jaehyun, fem!reader, jealous!jaehyun, dirty talk, alt!universe, CEO!Jaehyun

Word count: 1300

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It's Wednesday morning. Today Jaehyun’s girlfriend is coming over for lunch. Or at least that's what his employees think their boss and his girlfriend do every wednesday: have a nice and totally innocent lunch at his office. He tries to finish his work before she arrives. From his seat he can see his team working on a new project at the office next door and he regrets having glass walls instead of concrete. Glass walls don't give him the level of privacy he needs when she's around.

Jaehyun's girlfriend arrives at 12:00. She greets his employees with a kind smile and walks right into his office, placing the food bags on the small coffee table at the small lounge near the entry door. Jaehyun gets up from his desk and walks over to meet her, placing his hands on her waist and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek. He's not really into public displays of affection, especially at his office.

"Hello, love" he greets her with a smile on his face. "I'll send the team away for lunch".

Jaehyun walks into the office next door and gives his team 90 minutes to go and have lunch outside. His girlfriend waits for him sitting on the fancy leather sofa, her dress a little too short and showing a little too much skin for a lunch date at the office.

When all the employees are gone, Jaehyun returns to his office, closing the glass door behind him. He stands in front of his girlfriend and rolls up his sleeves.

"How was your morning, darling?" she asks, crossing her legs. "I brought your favorite lun-"

"Do you think that dress is an appropriate attire for visiting a CEO at his office?" Jaehyun interrupts her.

"It's summer, Jaehyun. What did you expect me to wear?"

"Maybe something that wouldn't make all my employees turn and stare at you like they want to eat you"

"It's not my fault they're not used to seeing a pretty woman in a strappy dress" she utters, nonchalantly.

Jaehyun closes his eyes for a moment and sighs. He hates having this kind of argument with her because deep down he knows she's right. He loves her in a tiny summer dress but he hates seeing how people look at her from head to toe just because she's showing a little bit of legs and cleavage. Especially men.

"I just don't want them to think inappropriate things about you, baby..." Jaehyun explains.

"I don't care what your damn employees think about my body, Jaehyun"

"Don't talk to me like that" he says firmly. "I'm the one who cares about what they think, you're my girlfriend after all"

"Well, that's your fucking problem. Not mine." she states with a mocking smile.

"Stop. You know I don't like when you say bad words" he scolds her.

"If you are so mad then we should have lunch now so I can leave before your employees come back. I don't want them to think inappropriate things about me" she replies, mimicking his words. She's very aware of the way some people look at her, but she really doesn't care. It's damn summer. And she knows how crazy Jaehyun gets when he sees her wearing her summer dresses.

She leans over the coffee table and starts unpacking the lunch boxes. As she moves, the top button of her dress comes undone and Jaehyun gets to see a tiny trace of a lace bra under it.

"Forget about lunch" Jaehyun stops her, standing up straight. "Get up and show me what's under that dress"

"I prepared this myself this morning. It's a recipe I found on Youtube" she explains casually, pretending not to pay attention to him.

"Get over here" he orders her, again.

"Oh, I'm so hungry... this looks really tasty" she continues, placing all the dishes over the table. Jaehyun sounds very serious, but she loves getting him a little mad every now and then.

"I said-"

"Sit down, Jaehyun" now it's her time to boss him around. "Have a taste of this, it smells delicious". She looks at him with angelic eyes and he stares coldly at her, arms crossed over his chest.

"You wanna have lunch? he asks, finally walking over and sitting next to her. "Okay, let's have lunch."

Jaehyun reaches out and angrily grabs his chopsticks from the table. A small laugh escapes her lips making him turn his head to look at her, eyes wide open.

"What are you laughing at?" he inquires.

"Why are you so mad today? Are you jealous of your employees?" she asks, placing a hand on his leg. "You know I don't care about other people, I only have eyes for you... and maybe one or two of your friends"

Jaehyun shakes his head, cracking a smile.

"God, you love teasing me, don't you?"

She grabs the chopsticks from Jaehyun's hand and places them on the table again. Without wasting any more time she moves and sits on his lap, putting her arms around his shoulders. Jaehyun groans and grips her by the waist.

"I do love teasing you" she confesses, kissing his cheeks.

Jaehyun's anger melts down immediately with her touch. He has been dying to have her in his arms since she set foot at his office. He grabs the back of her neck and gently pulls her closer to bring their mouths together. They kiss slowly at first, lips barely brushing, but then Jaehyun moves his hand to her chin and makes her open her mouth, sliding his tongue inside. She moans and grips her arms tighter around him, running a hand through his hair and tugging a little. Jaehyun moves his hands under her dress, gripping her ass and making her grind over his lap.

They stop kissing only when they feel like they can’t breathe anymore. She continues to rub herself over him, feeling how he gets harder and harder in his pants. Jaehyun throws his head back and she takes the chance to kiss his neck, licking all the way to his ear and nibbling softly on his earlobe.

“You look so hot when you get mad, Jaehyun” she whispers. “It gets me so wet…”

“Really?” he asks, caressing her back under her dress. “Are you sure you’re not getting wet thinking about my friends?”

“It was a joke, Jaehyun. You know I love you” she answers, kissing him on the lips again.

“And I love you too, baby.” he says, breaking the kiss and looking into her eyes. “But you need to stop wearing this dresses to visit me at the office”

“Don’t you like them?” she asks, pouting a little.

“I love them, darling, you know how much I do…” Jaehyun leans over and starts giving small pecks on her neck and cleavage. “I love your legs, I love your tits, I love your skin, I love how you taste…”

Jaehyun slides his hands down to grip her ass, making her whine again.

“It makes me so angry to see other men looking at you, I just want you for myself” he pleads, gripping the hem of her dress. “Take it off, c’mon”

She gets up from his lap and unbuttons her dress until it falls freely to the floor, revealing the lace underwear she had picked out this morning to wear for Jaehyun’s eyes only.

“God, you look so damn good” Jaehyun says, admiring her body from head to toe. He can’t help but rub his hard cock through his pants, biting his lower lip.

She leans over and places her hands on his shoulders, letting him see her from up close.

“How do you want me today, sir? On your lap or on my knees?”

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Also on ao3:

Lunch break

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Jaehyun's first album comes out on August 26th. Make sure to stream! 🌹

[fxrmuladaydreams]

make it work (mv33)

max x reader , george x reader (platonic) , toto x reader (paternal)

summary: you and max try to find a way to make your now very public relationship work

prev part

The following days after the Twitter reveal are spent staying inside Max’s apartment. Neither of you really leaves unless absolutely necessary. There’s a thick tension in the air now as well, as if you’re both walking on broken glass.

When it’s finally time for the next grand prix and your meeting with Toto you and Max discuss how you’re going to enter the paddock. In fear of making things worse you make the decision to not go in together, that way there’s less of a chance you’ll be swarmed by reporters.

You come in with George, who’s quick to put an arm over your shoulders and steer you away from any cameras.

“Netflix would have a field day.” He says under his breath as he pulls you towards the Mercedes building.

George lets you go once you’ve made it inside, looking around at all of the other Mercedes employees. Some of them give you weird looks, like they’re judging you, but most give you sympathetic glances, as if they know how all of this is going to play out.

You watch all of the media panels throughout the day. Whenever asked about your relationship Lewis says he had no idea what was going on, George says it was a surprise to everyone but he wishes the best for all parties involved, and Max snaps that he’s only there to talk about racing, nothing else.

Max meets with you after press is done for the day, the two of you heading into the Mercedes building to speak with Toto.

George exits the office just as you’re about to go in. He gives you a sympathetic smile and squeezes your hand.

You enter the office with Max behind you. Sitting behind the desk is Toto, looking down at some paperwork. Standing next to him is Christian Horner. You’re surprised to see the two of them together and not biting each other’s heads off.

“Sit.” Toto gestures to the two chairs at the opposite side of the desk. He looks up at you as you sit down, and tosses his glasses onto the desk.

You all stare at each other in silence for a moment, as if deciding who should speak first. Toto is the one to break the silence.

“Do the two of you realize what kind of trouble you have caused us?” His asks quietly. His eyes travel back and forth between you and Max. He sighs and leans back in his chair. “I can’t fire George, he’s still got a few years on his contract.” He points at Max. “I can’t fire you, because you’re not my driver.” Then he looks at you. “But Y/n, you are my assistant. You are the person I entrust with handling a lot of work that would be detrimental to the team if a rival were to find out.”

“I swear I haven’t said anything about anything.” You shake your head.

“It’s true.” Max chimes in. “She hasn’t spilled any secrets. It wouldn’t matter anyway though, seeing as I’m driving the better car.”

Christian laughs, only stopping when Toto gives him a stern look.

“The point is the two of you need to sort this out. Tell everyone that this was just a fling and it’s over.” Toto says.

“That’s not happening.” Max crosses his arms over his chest.

Christian sighs. “I told you he was stubborn.”

He looks at Max who just stares back up at him. You’d seen moments between the two of them before. They shared a father-son type of relationship. It was clear that Christian truly cared for Max and only wanted the best for him.

“We’re not breaking up. So find another solution to your problem.” Max looks back at Toto.

Toto glances back at you. “Y/n, I’d like to speak with you alone.”

Christian walks towards the door while Max turns to you.

“I’ll be fine.” You nod, giving him a soft smile.

He stands up, leans down to kiss the top of your head, then follows Christian out.

“That’s quite the headstrong young man.” Toto pulls your attention back to him.

“He cares about the people he loves.”

“And he loves you?” Toto raises a brow.

You feel your face heat up. “I mean, I think so. He’s sweet to me. He takes care of me.”

“And you love him?”

“Yes.” The answer comes out quicker than you expected.

Toto sighs, then stands up and walks to the front of his desk, leaning against it. “I care about you Y/n. You’re the first assistant I’ve had that’s been able to keep up with all the work I’ve piled on them. You get along well with both Lewis and George. You’re a lovely person. But dating Max Verstappen is a line I didn’t think you’d cross.”

You sink down in your seat, just waiting for the final blow.

“I trust that you haven’t given him any information about us. And I believe that you do for some reason truly care about that menace of a boy outside.” He nods towards the door. “So I’m sure that there’s a way we can make sure this works for everyone.”

You sit up straighter as your eyes search Toto’s for any chance that he’s lying.

“Really?”

“You’ll both beed to sign a few NDAs, but I’m sure it will be manageable.” He nods.

Before you can stop yourself, you stand up and wrap your arms around Toto, pulling him into a hug. He slowly pats your shoulders, returning your hug in an awkward way.

“Thank you. Thank you. I promise you won’t regret this.” Your eyes well up with tears.

“We’ll see. Just make sure I don’t see a Red Bull driver wandering around our garage.” He says with a smile.

You nod, then exit Toto’s office. Max leans against the wall next to the door, not having even left the hall. He cups your face with his hands. “You’re crying. What happened?”

“Nothing, they’re good tears.” You grin at him. “You were right. Everything’s okay.”

He smiles. “When have I ever been wrong?” He wraps his arms around your waist.

He leans down to kiss you just as the door to the office swings open.

“No Red Bull drivers allowed in the Mercedes building. Out.” Toto nods down the hall.

Over the next few days lawyers draw up NDAs for both you and Max to sign. He complains about it while you scribble your name on the papers. He signs just under your name though, promising he won’t reveal any secret Red Bull information to you.

It feels like a weight has been lifted off your shoulders after you sign the forms, like you’re no longer buried under this huge secret anymore.

You can walk through the paddock hand in hand now. You can give him a good luck kiss before he has to go to his garage. And you can finally be there to celebrate his wins with him.

The Red Bull photographers snap a photo of the two of you after that race. Max tugs his helmet off his head, then practically runs over to you. You stand with the other Mercedes staff, your white polo clashing with his blue race suit. His hair is pointing in all different directions, and his skin shines with sweat, but the smile on his face is breathtaking. He pulls you into a kiss over the fence. It’s sloppy, and uncoordinated, and the crowd screams their heads off.

Later that night you see a notification from Instagram. It’s a shared post, from both Red Bull and Mercedes.

redbullracing and mercedesamgf1

liked by georgerussell63 and 58,635 others

tagged: maxverstappen1 and yourusername

redbullracing Our favorite couple on the grid 💙❤️ + 🩵🤍

[thirstyforlulu]

Have a random drabble for an idea I had

Prompt: You are a higher up Hellsing employee who has worked with Alucard and Seras in the past. You have a complicated relationship with Alucard that includes snide remarks and aggressive late night rendezvous. Unfortunately, Alucard uses his strength to his advantage, and whenever you need his help, he makes you pay a very specific price

You groaned with frustration when you realized the unfortunate situation you had found yourself in. The mission that had been assigned to you and Seras was proving to be too difficult, and you worried that if the two of you continued to press on, one of you could get seriously injured. You needed someone else, someone more powerful to help you, and there was only one man for the job.

“Y/N, are you sure master won’t be mad if we ask him for help?” Seras muttered as the two of you walked down the stairs to Alucard’s room.

“Trust me, dear, he won’t,” You replied.

The further down the stairs you got, the more oppressive the air became. His aura was intimidating and could be felt for miles. When you got to the door, it was nearly suffocating.

You pushed it open, revealing the long, empty room where Alucard’s throne lay. It was dark, and your eyes took some time to adjust but you could clearly see his bright red irises glowing from across the room. Once you adjusted, you could see that he was sitting in his chair relaxed with a bottle of wine and a glass next to him on the table.

He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just stared you down silently, challenging you. Meeting that challenge, you confidently strode forward with a glare on your face. It wasn’t until you were about 8 feet from him that he finally spoke up.

“Why have you come to bother me tonight?” He asked, a hint of annoyance in his tone

“We need your help. The mission we’ve been assigned is proving to be too much for us to handle,” You explained, voice even and clear.

Seras stayed a step behind you, watching her master closely. She nibbled her bottom lip nervously as she waited for his response.

“So you’ve come to me because you’re too weak?” Alucard accused.

“Yes,” You admitted, not wanting to deal with the whole back and forth.

He shifted in his seat, rising from his relaxed position.

“You know my price, Y/N.” He replied.

Seras glanced between the two of you curiously, not sure what he meant.

“But Seras-“ You tried to protest, but he cut you off.

“She can close her eyes or leave the room. I will not forgo payment to spare the feelings of someone else.”

You gulped, glancing over at her. She met your gaze, waiting for your instruction.

“Turn around for a bit,” You sighed.

She did as you said, turning around and facing the door. With her settled, you strode over to Alucard’s throne, staring him down as you walked. His gaze never left you, staying laser focused on your approaching form.

Once you reached the chair, you put your right knee on his thigh and your hands on the armrests. You met his gaze as you lifted yourself up, plopped yourself in his lap, and adjusted until you could feel his clothed bulge beneath you. Silently, you leaned forward and pressed your lips to his as you started gyrating your hips against his.

You could feel him starting to stiffen beneath you as he grabbed your shoulders and deepened the kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth, forcing past your lips and taking your own hostage for a mind melting dance. You kept grinding on him, even when his tongue was becoming overwhelming in your mouth. His erection, even through his clothes, was providing wonderful friction, you could hardly help yourself.

Occasionally, he would moan or groan when you would rub him just right. You pulled away, when you started running out of air. You stood up, straightening your clothes before walking back toward Seras.

“Consider that a down payment. You’ll get the rest when we complete the mission,” You said as you walked.

“Then lead the way, Y/N,” He replied, straightening up his own clothes and standing to follow you.

[anundyingfidelity]

YES, MA’AM — Sam Winchester/Sam Wesson ft. Dean Winchester/Dean Smith (Chapter I)

Summary: Sam is the new tech support guy at Sandover Bridge & Iron Inc., and he thinks you, his supervisor, are related to him in ways more than professional. He not only dreams of ghosts and Dean Smith, the sales and marketing director, but you, the pretty boss who seems very fond of him, maybe a little too much.

Word count: 1.3k.

Pairing: Sam W./Sam Wesson x female reader (main), Dean W./Dean Smith x female reader. Situated in 4x17 - It's a Terrible Life.

Warnings for this series: smut with plot, sexual tension, sub!Sam, dom!reader, switch!Dean, co-workers with benefits with Dean, boss/employee dynamics, canon violence and stuff. Slow updates oops.

Notes: welcome to my very first spn fanfic, hope you enjoy this short series of Sam and Dean!

If you'd like to be added, the taglist is here!

☕ if you like my writing, support me with a ko-fi !

GEN MASTERLIST!

Chapter I | Chapter II

Chapter I: A Boring Life

Taking a quick look at the clock on the corner of the screen of his computer, Sam let out a long sigh. Lunch hour was far from near. He continued drawing the monsters he saw in his dreams on the notebook, those who wouldn't let him continue his abnormally boring and stupid life.

"Hey, Sam," a voice called, making him jump slightly on his seat.

He cleared his throat shutting the notebook and sitting right this time as he took in your figure towering over him in the cubicle with a smile on your lips.

"Hi, uhm... Is something wrong?"

You chuckled slightly. He wanted to slap himself for saying that. For Sam, bosses coming to him meant he might have done something wrong. He didn't want to know what he screwed up. Barely three weeks have passed since he started working there. As much as things were strange and weird around, Sam just wanted a quiet life.

"Not at all," you answered in a friendly manner. "Actually I just wanted to give you kudos. I've received good compliments from customers who called for help, you're doing excellent!"

Sam breathed out, feeling a heavy weight on his back dropping. He smiled. "Well, thank you. It feels good doing that."

But a raise or something would feel absolutely better, he thought.

"Sure! You're brilliant, have you ever been told that?"

"Uhm, not here. I mean- I want to say you're the first one. Sorry, the first one to say I'm brilliant, I- uhm I never really got kudos before? I don't think so but it does feel great."

He stumbled so much with his words that it made you laugh a little but he noticed you tried to suppress it. So you gave him a nod.

"Yeah, of course. I also see you're very organized with your stuff and reports," you remarked before taking a quick glance around and leaning a little bit toward him, your face morphing into a shy look. "Probably I shouldn't but could you help me with some reports today? You'd be off the phone, I just really need to send them by the end of the day and I'm extremely busy."

You bit your painted lower lip with big doe eyes, waiting for an answer. Since the first day he saw you around the company, he thought you looked extremely familiar. Like he had seen you before. Hell, it was like he knew you ages ago. But he wouldn't say it out loud, he might look like a creep.

You'd usually come like this to his spot just to talk and get into business, sometimes he'd go to ask you something he wasn't sure about from a call, but he never, ever herd from a complaint or that his work was shit from you. In fact, you were very kind and smart, always letting him know you were there if he needed anything. And you were pretty. So damn beautiful that you got his heart agitated and his body aching when you bent over a desk wearing tight black pencil skirts and those matching high stockings. He began to think probably you liked him but you used to get close to all of your employees on the tech support floor. You were just being nice to everyone.

"Uh, sure. I can do that," Sam curved his lips into a smile.

"Thank you, you're a lifesaver! I'll send you those in your email, ask me anything if it's difficult, okay?"

You responded with happy demeanour and quickly walked away back to your office, leaving him alone before he had the moment to say something. Just two minutes later he received an email from you with a bunch of reports and data to organize.

Sam scanned the files quickly while hearing the sounds of a chair rolling to his side.

"I think she likes you, man," Ian, the messy and chill coworker of his, teased. Sam chuckled.

"Nah, she's just nice to everyone. Besides, she needs help."

Suddenly, a notification popped from the side of his screen on the computer.

It was a message from you. It read:

Put on the headphones and listen to some music if you want ;)

"You were saying?" Ian joked again.

He smiled. Well, at least he'd be off the phone. Shouldn't be that hard, right?

The night fell and Sam found himself alone on his desk at eight o'clock working on your reports. Seeing the long reports and files he thought could make it on time to finish his shift at four and leave on time. It was fucking Friday. Poor him.

At least you ordered delivery for dinner for both of you. The good thing was that he wasn't really alone on the floor, you were in your office but soft music played as you worked on your stuff. Moments later, you found yourself sitting by Sam's side as he worked the final things on the last report.

"It's done," he announced, his body falling to the backrest of his chair.

"Thanks," you whispered shyly as he sent the finished files back to you. "I'm so sorry though, it's so late."

"Well, didn't have anything to do either."

"Really?!"

Your surprise made his eyes fall on you. He shrugged. "Just sleep."

You raised your eyebrows. "I thought maybe a girlfriend was waiting for you or something?"

He shook his head, pressing his lips together. "No, nothing like that."

The question was odd coming from you, so he decided to play a little.

"What about you?"

This time you shook your head. "Just my books and my TV."

Sam hummed. "It's a boring life, isn't it?"

"Yeah, well I get to pay my bills by the end of the month... And I meet nice people here... And I see you- Sorry."

You cut off your words all of a sudden, your eyes blinking rapidly saying you realized what you just said.

"My bad. We should get going."

You gave him a smile to try and brush off your words, but they were strong enough to get in Sam's head unnoticed. He watched you walk away, turning your computer and lights off on your office as Sam did the same on his spot. Once done, you walked out the floor together in silence.

"Thank you again. I don't think no one would ever do this for me here," you admitted with a deep exhale.

"Yeah, no problem," Sam smiled kindly as you got closer to the elevator.

"Really, I owe you. Do you have a car to get home or something? I can give you a ride if you need."

"I do, don't worry," he said as you stopped in front of the elevator, the doors opening.

"Great, so I think this is it," you grinned at him. "Have a good night."

"Thanks. I hope you have a good weekend, boss."

You nodded. "You too, Sam. Take care."

He saw you disappearing inside the elevator with a wave of your hand and a beautiful smile on your face. With a sigh, he made his way to the locker room and took his briefcase and stuff out. It was just a couple of minutes that he saw you leaving when he went back to the elevator. Checking his watch, the lift arrived and before he could get inside, he got a shocking picture in front of him.

Dean Smith, the marketing director, had you pinned against the wall and kissing down your neck. Your blouse unbuttoned, skirt up, lips open and eyes closed in bliss. Dean noticed the doors were open, pulling away his plump lips from your skin.

"Sorry buddy, wrong floor," he beamed and pushed the right button.

When you opened your eyes once again, you met Sam's open mouth and wide eyes as the doors closed. Great, now he might think you're a slut. 

[nathanbatemanfucker]

In Plain Sight, Ch 2: A Hoard of Cupids

summary: nathan’s much more insightful about you than he used to be. it’s making you uneasy…and curious.

pairing: nathan bateman x f!reader

contents: 18+/NSFW/MINORS DNI, enemies to lovers (sorta), boss/employee dynamics, pining, nathan trying to be nice but he’s so abrasive lol, pining, mentions of caretaking/sick family members, mentions of emotionally abusive parents, masturbation (m), sub!nathan if you squint

wc: 2,745

AN: back at it with part twoooo. thank you all for the kind words and support on this fic, i didn’t expect it to get the response it did but i’m really excited to give y’all the rest. fair warning that these chapters seem to be getting longer as i write on. happy reading!

in plain sight masterlist | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

Nathan gives you space— at first. When you return the next day at 7 a.m. sharp he’s nowhere to be found. Not in the living room or in the kitchen, not on his patio boxing. You assume he’s in his room, probably toying with one of his bots in a distasteful manner. The idea makes you shudder. But is it not easier to come to work with every task he could want you to do placed on his desk, no fuss?

You don’t like Nathan Bateman. He’s a pompous asshole, a know it all, a man who thinks only about his own desires. When he apologized— or rather attempted to— yesterday you thought that maybe you slipped and fallen down the stairs on your way out. By his standards, it was a top tier apology. You’d never once heard him apologize to anyone. On your drive home you had wondered if he had ever apologized in his life. The thought made you giggle, and then you’d turned up the music and forgotten about him until right now.

Sat at your desk, an ungodly stack of things to do. There’s a note sat on top. It’s simple and straightforward, lacking emotion but somehow still has your stomach flipping. It reads:

In meetings all day— let me know if you need anything. Go home early today.

Mr. Bateman

P.S. I’ll spruce up my apologizing skills.

You regard the note cautiously, raising your brow at it before you let yourself laugh a little. Was this a joke or had Nathan Bateman taken some criticism to heart (which is rumored to not exist). You fold the note up, and for some reason slip it into your bag.

The last thing that’s on your mind is that Nathan’s watching you. He sits in the dark at his monitors, leaning in closely. His eyes trace your figure on the screens intensely, watching as you read and read and read. He expects no reaction from you beside maybe throwing it in the trash. But then you laugh, and he watches you store it for safekeeping. A piece of him will go home with you. Nathan never thought he’d be jealous of a piece of paper, not when he seems to have the entire world at his fingertips.

—

He returns to his normal behavior after a week— partially because he thinks you settled in. And partially because…well he begrudgingly can admit to himself, in the comfort of his own mind, that he misses you. When you get to work the next Monday he’s sat on an observation table, examining what looks like a deconstructed robot brain.

You aren’t even able to open your mouth and say good morning before he’s talking to you.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asks, his eyes appraising you intensely.

You stop in your tracks, regarding him as always, your expression pieced into that calm expression. So you’re back to normal, none of that fire. He expected it but that doesn’t keep him from feeling disappointed.

“Sir?”

“You look really fucking tired. Exhausted,” He tacts on for good measure.

Your spine goes completely rigid, your grip on your bag tightening. You are tired. So very tired. You work shitty hours for incredible money and then go home to take care of your younger sisters and mother. Dealing with Nathan is for them. For your sisters’ schooling, so they won’t feel left out when the other kids have the newest gadget or shoes. For your mother’s ever piling medical bills. It’s important that you don’t jeopardize something so precious.

“Is it affecting my work? Have I done something wrong?” You ask him softly.

“No— that’s not why I’m—“ He stutters before closing his mouth and starting anew. You’ve never seen him like this. If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was flustered. But knowing Nathan, he’s just never asked a single employee he’s ever had if they’re alright. “I’m your boss, I worry about your well being. That’s what good bosses do.”

“Are you sure?” You ask evenly, eyes still trained on him.

“Am I—“ He stops, eyes wide for a fraction of a second before he bites away his smile. “Are you fucking with me?”

If he was looking at you so intentionally he would miss the way your mouth twitches. “I’m fine, Mr. Bateman. I have a lot of responsibilities, not only here but out there as well.”

“Out there?”

“The real world. Thank you for the concern, sir.”

For the second time, you’ve rendered Nathan speechless. That night he lays in bed thinking of you, like many nights prior. He turns your words over in his head time and time again. The real world. Do you think he doesn’t know what it’s like out there? He wonders how much research you’d done for the job. Nathan used his brain to get here, climbing and climbing. He hadn’t been born into this but his personality lent itself to such a conclusion. Nathan knows what his real world used to look like, though one day he hopes that any of his contraptions can help him forget. He wonders what your real world looks like.

There’s no ring on your finger, but you could have a partner. Kids? Another job? He pays you well enough for that to not be necessary. Maybe you volunteer at a puppy shelter. He could picture it. You in something other than your stuffy work clothes, a smile on your face as you drown in puppy breath and slobber.

He groans, rolling over in bed to plant his face deeply in the pillow. Maybe he can smother himself out of this. Thinking about puppies? He might as well be one, he’s practically lovesick if you have him thinking like this. When would he get used to feeling this way? His usual cynical thoughts feel like they’re being pillaged by a hoard of cupids.

He doesn’t even know if you feel the same. Being better for you is one thing, but what if there’s no payoff? What if he changes for you and you leave him high and dry? Fuck. Fuck fuck fuck. He feels the back of his neck sweating and sits up.

Nathan’s been down this road before, it’s brought him his fortune and an insane work ethic. It’s all brought him sorrow he’ll never be able to escape. Being with his parents feels like a fever dream sometimes and other times he feels 6 again, like he’s drowning in their expectations and insults, trying to measure up. He’d given up eventually, once he realized that they would never love him the way parents should. Why try to do anything anyone wanted but himself when they could still treat him poorly for it?

He’s the way he is from his own indoctrination. He doesn’t know where he would be if he hadn’t convinced himself that he was the only person that truly matters.

But, now there’s you. You, who looks so soft, you that scratches an itch he didn’t even realize he had. You, that he wants to goad and prod and poke until you unleash all of yourself on him. He closes his eyes and lays back, envisioning you right here with him. He feels insane, his heart— his mind, his dick— are taking him through a whirlwind of emotions right now.

He palms himself through his boxers, eyes squeezing shut tighter than before as he tries to narrate. He pictures you in one of his white shirts, it’s fabric nearly see-through with the way it clings to your breasts. He grasps his length through his boxers letting out a heaving sigh. Fuck he wishes this was you.

If there’s anything that Nathan knows how to do its not only being smartest but the most imaginative. He’s been daydreaming for as long as he can remember. Universes with better outcomes— having worth, or loving parents or anyone for that matter. Anyone to be on his side. He imagined codes and synthetic body parts that live and breathe in front of him. He can surely imagine you, breathy and horny in his bed, jerking him off. He doesn’t care if it’s fucked up, or inappropriate. He wants you, and maybe this is the only way he can have you. He slides his boxers down, finally done teasing himself. Licking his palm, he grabs his cock, starts stroking and succumbs to the thought of you.

Another moan bubbles out of his throat. He can see your nipples through his shirt when you straddle him like this. Your thighs are soft against his own and he would reach for your free hand, thread his fingers through your own. Your hands are smaller than his, smooth and supple. And god, you’re stroking him just the way he likes it, the soft wet sound making pleasure shoot through his groin.

You’d overstimulate him wouldn’t you? With that clever mouth barely pulling up a grin, eyes full of fire as you stroke him past the point of pleasure. Would you make him watch? See the way your hands would grow slick and shiny with his cum as you kept pumping and pumping, pushing him to another release. Covering you both in him, until you’re too needy to keep toying with him. Nathan cums just as he’s imagining the feeling of you dragging your bare pussy against his sensitive cock. He whines and keens off the bed, the high singing in his veins. He swears he can almost imagine the way you would moan.

His eyes open, the spell broken. He’s alone, covered in his own spend, chest heaving like he just ran a 10k. He avoids his reflection when he walks into the bathroom to clean up. His loneliness spikes again and he heads to the kitchen, reaching for the first bottle he can find.

—

“You’re late,” He says stiffly, crossing his arms as he watches you cross the space to sit at your desk.

The day after he’d gotten off thinking of you he’d had the slightest difficulty looking at you. It quickly faded, he was too greedy. Too needy, if he’s being honest. He can’t get enough, he doesn’t know if he could ever say it but you’re the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

You’re openly frazzled; your shirt isn’t tucked in, your hair is a little more frizzy than usual and you look as tired as ever. He regrets his biting tone immediately.

Even as you explain you’re moving, setting your to-go mug on the desk, fetching your calendar, booting up your computer. “I know, I’m sorry, Mr. Bateman. My sisters were less than cooperative this morning.”

Nathan turns completely away from the bins he’s been searching through, raising a brow at you in surprise, “Your sisters?”

“Yes— one is 7 the other is 14. The little made getting out of the house…difficult,” You murmur distractedly, eyes trained on your screen.

“Isn’t that your parents’ fucking job?”

His question snaps you back to the present— you hadn’t shared nearly as much as you could’ve. But you’d gone into this job wanting to be nameless and faceless. Memorable only for the quality of the work you do.

You shake your head, daring a quick glance in his direction that you immediately regret when your eyes meet his.“I realized that I’ve shared far too much about my personal life. I should work, Mr. Bateman.”

Nathan immediately understands your deflecting. How many times has he been asked by reporters and interviewers where his family is? Enough times that he’s had his publicist strike the topic from the acceptable lists. That was about all he was good for anyway, Nathan says what he wants when he wants.

He goes back to the task at hand— though now with you here he doesn’t quite remember what that was. A part…some sort of part that he needed. Wires? Screws? A metal plate? He sighs in frustration and leaves without another word.

Your gaze is on the door as soon as it shuts, making sure he’s gone. The tears that you’ve been biting back fall and you bury your face in your hands. Your youngest sister had begged and pleaded for you to stay warm in bed with her this morning. With your mother so sick, you’ve practically raised her yourself these last few years. It makes her needy, which you understand. But what she doesn’t understand is how delicate the balance you found in caring for your entire family is. Middle sister lacks just as much understanding, with heaps of attitude. She doesn’t want to snuggle with you or with younger sister. Mediating this entire situation is what made you late.

It feels like you’re cracking under the pressure but that isn’t an option, is it? As if the universe wants to make it clear, your computer chimes. It’s Nathan, asking you to come to his office.

—

He’d meant to go clear his head in his office and come back to get whatever part he was in need of. But, when he sat in his chair he was met with the sight of you hunched over your desk, presumably crying by the way your shoulders jerked every once and a while.

He’s pinging you before he can think better of it. He watches you read his message. You’re such an anomaly— you sit up immediately, reaching for some tissues and cleaning yourself up as if nothing happened. You even check yourself in the reflection of your computer, fidgeting with your hair, tucking in your shirt once you stand. As soon as you start out of the office he turns off his monitors, not one to be caught snooping around though it’s right and was clear in the contract. Maybe you’ve forgotten. Perhaps you don’t think your anything worth watching…Nathan would like to change that assumption.

“You pinged me, sir?”

How would he play this? He couldn’t admit that he just watched you cry.

“Trying my hand at this apologizing shit again. I— Nathan Bateman— am sorry for being insensitive. Like I said last time, I don’t know your life or you. Alright, how was that?”

“I would say a solid, 5/10, which is a 50% improvement.”

“Fuck me, you’re a tough crowd. What am I docked for? You know I’m all about perfection.”

“There was a lack of originality. And you omitted your middle name.”

It takes everything in Nathan not to giggle. The way the words come out of your mouth are so funny… or maybe he’s just obsessed. It could be both. “My middle name is classified information.”

“Does Wikipedia know that?” You ask, tilting your head in that uncanny way.

Nathan can’t hold in his laugh this time, running a hand over his beard, “You’re funnier than you look.”

Your mouth twitches, and you give him the smallest nod, “Thank you, sir. Is that all?”

He pretends to think about it. “This apology is feeling pretty one-sided to me.”

“I accept your apology, Mr. Bateman, thank you.”

“Accept something else,” He proposes, going out on a limb. Suddenly your stare is too intense, the room is too hot and small. What the fuck is he doing?

“What’s that?” You ask, as soft and sweet as ever.

“Dinner. Tomorrow,” He says simply.

“With you?”

Nathan ignores the twinge in his heart— your tone barely changed. If he wasn’t with you every single day, studying you, he wouldn’t even have noticed.

“I can invite the droids if you want. They’ll just stare at us while we eat.”

Your hand tightens around your planner. Dinner with Nathan…choosing to be around him? It seemed like as of late he was trying to be…more palatable. This could be an act of good faith. But, you have your sisters and mother to think about. You’ve given her nurse enough overtime hours in the last few weeks.

“Without getting too personal, I don’t think I’ll be able to swing it sir, I have to get home to my sisters as soon as possible.”

Yes, your family, that you never talk about. He could accommodate, what’s he the fucking boss for if he can’t?

“We’ll do it early.”

You sway a little as you think about this— that’s new, he thinks to himself, filing that information away for later.

“You’ve already got me apologizing, I can’t add saying please to the list of acceptable behaviors. I’ll lose my fucking edge.”

“How early?”

“3:30.”

“Alright, then, sir.”

nathan taglist: @missdictatorme, @hon3yboy, @runa-falls, @campingwiththecharmings, @toracainz, @steven-grants-world, @clemdango04, @jdbxws, @crispysublimecupcake, @sub-aro, @faretheeoscar, @cupidysm, @whentheskyispinkandabitblue , @nova-ivy541, @sparkypantelones, @veritable-trash, @mangoslushcrush, @kotaropuppy

[queenshelby]

Forbidden Desire (Part 16)

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Reader (Female/Incestuous)

Warnings: Incest, Smut

Please comment and engage xx 😘

As Tommy walked downstairs, he was greeted by his cousin Michael and an inspector who was unfamiliar to him. 

"Michael," he greeted curtly, nodding slightly in acknowledgment of the stranger.

"Good morning, Thomas," Michael returned politely, stepping aside to allow the inspector to follow Tommy into his office. 

"You are Mr. Thomas Shellby?" the Inspector queried, glancing at the paperwork in front of him.

"I am sure you already know who the fuck I am, eh?" Tommy chuckled.  

"Please sit down, Inspector." he then offered a seat to his guest. Settling down across from him, he sized up the man. From what little he could discern from the brief introductions, the detective appeared to be relatively young—likely eager to make a name for himself with a high-profile case like this.

"So, tell me, why exactly are you here?" Tommy asked casually, leaning forward in his chair, intimidating the inspector slightly. 

The inspector hesitated, examining his notes once more before answering. "There have been a series of murders occurring recently," he began, attempting to strike a balance between formality and informality. "All victims share connections to various factions within the city and all of them had also been employed by one of your companies," He paused momentarily, his gaze steady.

"One such murder happened just yesterday evening, and another today early morning. Both occurred at a significant distance from our territory – indicating a wider area of interest for the perpetrator(s). We believe these incidents may be linked somehow," the inspector explained. 

"Listen carefully pal, my family owns ninety percent of all businesses in fucking Birmingham. So, of course these men were employed by us. There is only a slim chance for them not be one of our employees," Tommy expressed clearly, his tone serious and direct. The inspector looked steadfast, his demeanor calm yet cautious.  

"Mr. Shellby, it would greatly aid our investigation if you could provide names of those known to have had dealings with the deceased within your organisation," he requested firmly just as Polly Gray came barging through the door with the intend to put an end to the meeting she had overhead part of earlier. Her face flushed with anger, her hands tightened into fists.

She had only just found out who was behind this all, trying to take up their family bond and, with concrete evidence in her hands, she snapped. 

"This meeting is over and you, inspector, need to go back to London and investigate this," Polly snarled, presenting a file to him containing all necessary proof proving Liam's involvement in the crimes. Tommy raised an eyebrow, surprised by Polly's swift reaction.

Seeing this, the inspector rose slowly, gathering his papers and folders without uttering a word. 

"My understanding is that, last night, Liam O'Connor was shot dead by an unknown perpetrator and, whilst he was employed by Shelby Company Limited, he acted upon his own volition when carrying out these crimes. WE had nothing do with this," Polly concluded confidently, standing tall despite her emotional turmoil. 

 "Well... that doesn't change the fact that multiple individuals connected to your company have died suspiciously," the inspector retorted sharply, refusing to back down. However, seeing the undeniable evidence provided by Polly Gray, he relented marginally. 

 "Very well," he finally conceded but, before departing, he turned to address Tommy and his cousin.

"Just bear in mind Mr Shelby that, by the time the elections come around, your organisation's involvement in illegal activities will be thoroughly scrutinised," the inspector warned, and, with that, he left the room, leaving a heavy cloud of unease among the trio.

"Tom, I had nothing to do with this. You must believe me," Michael pleaded as soon as the three of them were on their own.

"It wasn't me who helped Liam," he went on to say and his mother stepped in.

"No, it wasn't you, Michael. It was Finn. He took it upon himself to bring you down Tommy and, because he isn't smart enough to do so on his own, he got involved with Liam O'Connor and another member of your gang. Unfortunately, jealousy over your own fucking niece made you too blind to see this as all you could think about was Liam making a moving on Y/N," Polly revealed. "And how typical! For someone like you to think with your cock," she continued sarcastically. Tommy didn't respond directly to her accusation but instead glared at her.

Anger flared in Tommy's eyes as he considered Polly's words. This entire situation was becoming increasingly messier, complicated further by the complex web of lies and betrayals.

"What about Finn? Where the fuck is he, eh?" Tommy seethed, rubbing his temples before he paced around the room, frustration simmering beneath the surface. His mind raced through possible scenarios, wondering how far Finn could possibly have gone in order to sabotage him.

"He won't get away with this," he muttered under his breath, clenching his jaw.

"I dealt with him myself," Polly affirmed defiantly, crossing her arms over her chest in a show of determination. 

"Dealt with him how?" Tommy asked, his curiosity piqued despite his growing anger. 

"He is gone, that's all that matters right now," Polly replied brusquely, unwilling to discuss further details of her encounter with Finn. 

Tommy grunted noncommittally, unsatisfied with the answer but knowing better than to push Polly any further on the matter. Instead, he changed the subject abruptly.

"How much does the inspector really know about Liam's death?" he asked  cautiously, causing Polly to shake her head.

"Not enough to cause problems," Polly informed him reassuringly.

"What you need to concentrate on now are the upcoming elections, which involves doing the right fucking thing by Lizzie and stop fucking your own niece. I can smell her perfume on you even from here," Polly scoffed, turning her nose upward in disgust. 

"Why don't you let us worry about our personal lives, eh?" Tommy snapped back harshly, annoyed by Polly's intrusion into his private affairs even though he knew that, if Arthur would find out, he would be furious. 

"Because Tommy, when it comes to our world, everyone's life affects everyone else.

Your decisions echo throughout the whole community, regardless of whether people care to admit it or not," Polly added solemnly, a hint of sympathy masking her previously fierce facade.

"Your relations with Y/N reflect poorly on your leadership skills, especially considering the forthcoming elections and, if you want to maintain control during these challenging times, you should focus on improving your reputation rather than destroying what's left of it," Polly said before, with these final words, she exited the room, leaving the two men alone. Silence hung heavily in the air, punctuated only by the ticking clock and Tommy's labored breathing.

"You know my mother is right Tommy, don't you?" Michael interjected nervously, looking at his cousin imploringly. 

"Of course, I know she is right," Tommy agreed reluctantly, breaking eye contact with Michael as he thought about Polly's warning. Tommy knew that, realistically, he could not be with you, regardless of how much he wanted to and, with this in mind, he came up with a plan.

"Y/N should take over the export division in Boston," Tommy suggested, causing Michael to nod in agreement, knowing that this would keep you away from him and allow him to think clearly. 

Tommy's voice held no trace of emotion when he said the words while yet, deep inside, he couldn't help feeling a twinge of sadness at the prospect of losing you. He knew how much it meant to him to have you close, physically and otherwise, yet it seemed impossible to continue having this secret relationship with you.

Thus, Tommy decided it was best for you to leave town until things settled down and, much to your despair, when you were told days later about the plan for you to leave, you could hardly argue against it. You knew why Tommy needed space from you and, you were willing to give him exactly that for the sake of your family.

Your entire relationship with him was condemned. He was your uncle after all and, despite wanting desperately to protest, you understood where they were coming from. It was important for him to win the elections and it was even more important for your father not to find out the truth. 

***

Therefore, within two weeks, you packed up your belongings and made your way to America with a view to start a new life. 

Tears were streaming down your cheeks as you realized how lonely these months or years apart might feel. You knew that this was the end and, even though Tommy promised to visit you, this time never came. He never visited you in Boston during those long, solitary eleven months abroad and neither did he call you. He always had Polly make contact with you when business matters had to be discussed and not once did you receive a letter from him.

Your heart ached as memories of tender moments spent together flashed through your mind, bringing tears unbidden to your eyes. The distance between you grew more pronounced each day, and it felt as though something vital had vanished from your existence. In spite of the passage of time, the pangs of loneliness remained ever-present, lingering in the depths of your soul.

The painful reminder of your love affair brought a wave of regret. Regret for allowing yourself to become entangled in such a dangerous game of passion. Each time you closed your eyes, you saw his piercing gaze, felt his rough touch on your skin, and remembered the way his body moved above yours.

Memories of intimate encounters surfaced unexpectedly, triggering an irresistible yearning that threatened to consume you completely. Days passed by with the weight of your absence growing heavier and heavier, a constant reminder of everything you once shared but lost along the way.

And then, one day, you received a telegram containing a message you had not expected and which shook you to the core.

It was an invitation to Tommy's and Lizzie's wedding in Birmingham and, as the news sank in, your pulse quickened, and a rush of blood coursed through your veins.

Although the eleven months since you had parted ways had dulled some of the pain associated with the separation, this announcement reignited old wounds, awakening raw emotions that you hadn't experienced in quite some time. Your palms began sweating profusely, hands trembling as you reached for the bottle of whiskey sitting nearby. Taking a large swig, you winced slightly at the burn running down your throat.

Grabbing a cigarette, you lit it hastily, taking a moment to compose yourself. How could this happen? After everything that transpired, why would he ask you - someone whom he loved dearly - to witness his marriage to Lizzie? This sudden revelation shook you to your core, stirring a concoction of bitterness, resentment, and confusion within you.

Unwittingly, you found yourself caught up in a whirlwind of emotions – the intensity of which was almost suffocating.

There was anger, frustration, jealousy, sorrow, and, most disturbingly, an insatiable desire that refused to be quelled. As the reality of the situation dawned upon you, you vowed that you wouldn’t attend the ceremony. But somewhere deep inside, you couldn’t help hoping for just one last glimpse of Tommy… just one last chance to prove that nothing had truly changed.

As you mulled over the decision, weighing the pros and cons, your mind drifted elsewhere as your maid, Sarah, entered the room.

"I think he is hungry ma'am," she commented softly while carrying a small bundle of joy wrapped carefully in linen cloth.

"He has a good appetite that's for sure," you acknowledged as you took another sip of your drink while admiring the baby's tiny fingers pointing straight at you.

"Pass him here, please," you told your maid gently and with a smile. "Let me feed him before he tears down the house with his mighty screams," you chuckled before Sarah placed him gently in your arms. His warmth filled the void within you temporarily, soothing your turbulent emotions.

Gazing down at your son's face, you noticed its striking resemblance to his father.

Every feature mirrored the essence of Tommy, right down to the shape of his lips and the blue of his eyes. Feeling an odd mix of tenderness and vulnerability, you rocked the little boy slowly back and forth, careful not to jostle him too roughly.

"So you think we should go back home for a little bit, hmm?" you asked your baby-boy lovingly. Giving a light kiss on his forehead, you continued to cradle him in your arms. His sweet laughter warmed your heart, giving you strength amidst the chaos enveloping your life. With each passing minute, your resolve weakened, and eventually, you accepted the invitation, hoping against hope that seeing Tommy again would provide closure.

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[loveshotzz]

bouncer!steve x fem!reader Steve’s night

🎵 I finally found someone that can make me laugh, hahaha you so crazy, I think I wanna have your baby. 🎵

summary: you’ve got a crush on the new bouncer at The Foxy Lounge. turns out he’s not very good at his job.

word count: 13.6k

warnings: 18+ 90’s AU// Steve is in his early 30’s, Your date gets drunk and says some night nice things, some mild violence (bar fights), possessive steve, fingering, smut (p in v) cream pie, ass eating (f! receiving), oral (f! receiving), dirty talk.

authors note: part two of Whatta Man (steve’s night) you don’t need to read eddie’s to read this one it’s just a little more fun if you do. i’ve seen other writers repost their work after it’s been flagged so here I am. I worked on this for months. please be kind.

The perks of moving into the apartment that presides above The Foxy Lounge were vast for a single girl like yourself, but the perks of becoming friends with the bartender that worked there seemed to make them endless. 

Memorized orders and free drinks when he was feeling nice (which he almost always was), he wore the crown of wingman of the century with pride, Eddie always made sure you had a good time. It was days like today that were your favorite though, heading home from a shitty morning shift at work, you weren’t surprised when you tugged on the front door an hour before open and it wasn’t locked. The annoyed look on his face told you he wasn’t either. An irritated groan leaves his chest at the carelessness of the owner and your landlord before popping the caps off two beers with ease. The loud clink of metal to glass echoes in the empty bar, as he flips his bottle opener between his fingers like muscle memory stuffing it in his back pocket.

“He’s gonna get us robbed one day, and I’m just gonna take my favorite bottle for damages and let them have the rest at this point.” His smile shows the lack of truth behind his words when you sit in the stool in front of him.

“Lucky for the both of you, it’s always just me.”  Winking when you take a swig, the bitter liquid and the company eases the bad day out of your bones almost instantly.

The beginnings of a relaxed sigh start to push past your lips when the jarring sound of his rings slapping against the wood of the bar to the tune of a drum roll has you tense right back up. You’re unable to stop the slam of your beer before deadpanning, “you know I hate when you do that-“

“My best buddy Steve starts tomorrow night, I finally got Rick to say yes.” Eddie’s excitement has him vibrating when he cuts you off to tell you the news of the latest Foxy Lounge employee. “You’re gonna have such a crush on him. I’m calling it now.” The smirk on his face and the arch of his brow dare you to challenge him as he leans forward into your space.

Rolling your eyes with a snort, you start picking at the white sticker wrapped around the bottle. 

“As if you know my type, Munson.” You can’t control the twitch of your lips the second the words leave your mouth when you finally dare to meet his amused gaze.

Eddie knew your type better than anyone else. Watching the men and sometimes women you’d bring upstairs weekend after weekend. He had you pegged and the Cheshire smile on his face told you he knew it too.

“I can hear it now.” He changes the pitch of his voice so it sounds like a bad version of yours before he continues with an exaggerated batting of his lashes, “Oh Eddie, Steve is just so dreamy. Do you think he thinks I’m cute? Will you talk to him? Come on Eddie!”

“I do NOT talk like that, asshole!” Launching a handful of bar nuts at him, he raises his hands in mock surrender shaking out the few that got stuck in his hair with a booming laugh.

“I don’t think that's a nice way to treat the guy who not only didn’t kick you out but also gave you a free beer before we opened, sweetheart.” His dimpled grin and perfect smile almost has your stomach in butterflies.

“I basically live here, besides your boss is the one who left the door unlocked. Maybe it’s a good thing you’re upping your security around here,” you tease, gulping down the rest of the beer before sliding the empty bottle over. 

“We’ll see about this Steve guy you won’t shut up about, who knows Eddie, maybe it’s you who’s got a crush.” 

Sweeping up the mess you made behind his bar he smirks before wiggling his brows.

“Everyone’s got a crush on Steve, baby.”

The pink fluorescent lights of the Foxy Lounge sign that hangs outside your window paints your studio in a blush tinted glow. It bleeds through the sheer floor length curtains, softening its harshness in a way that you liked. The darkness outside always makes it shine brightest around this time, a constant fight with your overhead lamp before bed. Your eyes catch the glaring red numbers on your clear digital clock reading 8:45pm.

Shit. You’re late.

No Doubt’s I’m Just A Girl plays loud enough through your boom box speakers to drown out the murmurs of the bar downstairs that spill through the slight crack in your bedroom window. You finish the last touch ups to the bubble gum colored gloss that coats your lips, smacking them together loudly. You give yourself a sweet smile in the mirror before fluttering your lashes for good measure. The finishing touch.

Finally feeling ready enough to leave, you adjust the black velvet choker around your neck with lavender painted nails. They highlight the lime green tube top that wraps around your chest as you pull at your black maxi skirt that sits above your hips hugging your curves just right.

You give yourself one last once over while you slip on your clunky Steve Madden slides, telling yourself the whole time you didn’t get all done up for the new bouncer. Instead you tell yourself it’s because you want to get lucky with the guy that invited you to get last minute drinks conveniently at the bar you above.

Turning around to give your studio apartment the safety check, you shuffle over your baby blue carpet with loud clacks from your sandals to hurriedly straighten your pink comforter and snuff out your incense. Grabbing your bag, you rush out with a flip of the light switch, only getting two steps away before having to pop back in to grab your keys hanging by the door.

The platforms on your slides are heavy as you make your way down the staircase, the narrow hallway bouncing your steps off the walls despite the cushion of the ugly brown carpet. One hand on the banister and the other dragging along the wall for balance, you pick up your pace barreling towards the door. Pushing it open with more force than normal, you hit something on the other side, hard.

An oof and the sound of plastic skidding across the sidewalk is followed by the crash of a stool that must’ve belonged to whoever was sitting on it. Stepping onto the pavement with a clack from your sandals, you stop in your tracks when you see his broad shoulders first. Bent over, you watch him collect what looks like an orange Tamagotchi, stuffing it quickly in his back pocket before brushing the dust off his dark denim clad thighs. The way he fills his jeans has your mouth dry up and his muscles flex under the black cotton shirt that wraps tight around his torso, the seams barely containing what’s underneath. Turning around he runs a big hand through his honey colored locks that stop just below his ears, pushing the fly aways from his face while the shine of the street lamp highlights his cheekbones and sharp jaw.

God you hated when Eddie was right.

Hazel eyes rake over your form while yours follow the freckles that run along his neck that lead to small moles placed like a cluster of stars along his jaw. His chiseled nose runs down a narrow line with lips tinged pink like his cheeks. The expression on his face going from irritated to flirty in a matter of seconds flat, the whites of his teeth showing when he gives you an easy smile.

“I’m - oh my god, I’m so sorry. I’m running late and no one is ever sitting there and I - Are you okay?” Talking a mile a minute, you hate that he has your nerves getting the best of you.  

“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Raising his hands up to stop you, the press of your thighs is instant when you see the silver band wrapped around the thickness of his middle finger. “No apologies necessary, it was an accident, honey.”

The endearment leaves his mouth while his lips turn his smile crooked, and it makes you dizzy. Bending down to grab the stool off the ground, a matching chain slips out from under his shirt and the glow above gives you a glimpse at the patch of thick chest hair hidden from sight.

“Besides, it’s not the first time a pretty girl has knocked me on my ass.” Folding his arms across his pecs, he leans against the brick of the bar crossing his legs at the ankles. The black boots that cover his feet look big and menacing despite his disposition.

Biting your bottom lip into a smile, you look up at him through shy lashes and you swear you hear him sigh at the sight.

“Well as long as you’re okay-“

“Steve,” he offers his name with a flash of his teeth again, a spark lighting in his eyes when he sees the way you react to it.

“Well you’ll probably see my face around here a lot,” you say, doing your best to ignore the way your cheeks burn.

“I sure hope so.” Pulling a toothpick out of his back pocket, he slides it between his lips. Jaw clenching when he bites down on the wood while his eyes roam your curves again before offering you another grin.

It makes you do one thing a man has never made you genuinely do. You giggle. Tucking your hair behind your ear, you hardly recognize yourself anymore.

“I was gonna say, 'cause I live upstairs.” Your voice is sweet despite the roll of your eyes, his jaw clenches against the wood. He liked that.

He only breaks his stare to follow the path of your finger, his eyes lingering on your open window for a second before bringing all his attention back on you. The tension grows even thicker when he kicks off the wall, realization hitting him. The soles of his boots are loud against the pavement when he closes the distance between you with two long strides. Getting close enough to smell the cinnamon on his breath, and the expensive cologne that lingers on his bronzed skin, you forget all about your date waiting for you inside. 

“Eddie’s told me all about you.” Using the tip of his tongue, he pushes the toothpick to the other side of his mouth, his smirk telling you all you need to know.

“That’s funny, Eddie’s told me about you too,” you lick your lips, tasting the fruit of your gloss as you look up at him from under hooded shimmering lids, “Steve.”

He inches just a little closer to teeter on the edge of what’s appropriate before responding, “Oh yeah? Did you like what you heard baby?”

His smile is as sinful as it is blinding. A darkened gaze locked on yours as he pulls the tooth pick out his mouth letting the sharp end snag his bottom lip before stuffing it in his back pocket again.

The electricity in the air sparks and fizzes, standing close enough to see the freckles that line his nose and the specks of glitter smattered in a similar pattern on your cheeks. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Raising an eyebrow, your response has him sucking his teeth before rolling his tongue against the inside of his cheek accepting your answer with a nod of his head.

Pulling out a small red flashlight with a soft click of the button at the end, white light floods the dark. The beam roams over the expanse of your body with a purposeful path before stopping at his outstretched hand.

“I.D.?” Amusement evident in his voice, he wiggles his fingers at you keeping up with his charade. The motion daring to make a mess of your underwear.

You try to cover up your laugh with a fake scoff, making it come out loud enough for him to snort. Your lips twitch as you try to fight the losing battle with the smile threatening to break across your face. 

“What? I need to be careful here sweetheart. It’s my first night, I gotta make sure you’re really who you say you are, and not just some pretty girl trying to flirt her way inside.” He keeps the perfect poker face while he tuts at you to hurry up for the invisible line behind you.

“Would it have worked?” you ask handing him your driver’s license, wincing internally at the picture he is about to see.

Brushing his fingers against yours when he takes it for closer examination, he huffs out a laugh before looking down at you with a smug grin.

“Wouldn’t you like to know.” He winks like an expert before making a big show of bringing your ID close to his face like it might be a fake.

Tsking to himself as he reads it over, he peeks over at you with a sly smirk. “A whole year older than me. Good for you, I like older women.”

Closing the space that developed when you had to dig in your purse, you snatch the plastic out of his hand, relishing in the way his breath hitches because of it. “I’m shocked you can read Steve, Eddie’s taste can be a bit…shoddy.”

“I think I’m pretty good at it actually, I’m good at reading a lot of things.” Ignoring your jab he’s quick to regain his confidence. “Things like, I don’t know, body language.” The spice of the cinnamon returns when he pulls out his toothpick again. He flashes you his pearly whites when he bites down, keeping his eyes locked on yours, a silent dare to prove him wrong.

Like magnets finding each other, the toes of his boots brush against your sandals. When did he get this close again?

Mariah Carey’s Fantasy cuts off any witty response that sits on the tip of your tongue as the bar door creaks open, rudely snapping you both back to reality. A boy who looks barely above the legal age is the culprit for popping your bubble, stopping dead in his tracks when the flirting bouncer’s attention redirects itself to where it should be. You already miss it.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, hold up, punk.” Grabbing the kid by the collar of his shirt, he mutters a ‘shit’ under his breath. 

You take a step back, your eyes meeting Eddie's from inside, the commotion catching his and a few other patrons' stares, including your date.

Oh yeah, you had a date.

“I’m gonna need to see some I.D.” Steve’s voice drops deeper after he clears his throat, if his tamagotchi didn’t beep right after, signaling it’s need to be fed it would’ve been more intimidating. Your own digital pet buried at the bottom of your bag probably doing the same, already reborn fresh this morning from forgetting it at home while at work the night before.

“Umm, you see, I left my wallet at home,” the kid starts to stammer, the metal of his braces showing when he gives the bouncer a nervous grin.

Almost forgetting he had an audience, Steve’s eyes meet yours, softening before that million dollar smile takes over his handsome face.

“You’re free to go in. You know where to come when you wanna talk about all those things you liked hearing about me.”

Your stomach flutters despite the roll of your eyes at his words and you're reminded crossing the threshold that you’re here to meet another man, already scolding yourself for not taking Eddie’s warning seriously.

“I bet you’d like that wouldn’t you, Steve?” You linger in the door frame, looking at him from over your shoulder, and it makes the corners of his eyes crinkle.

“You already know the answer to that, gorgeous.” His toothpick switches sides again before finally going back to doing his job, tugging the kid closer.

“I.D. or no entry dick head.”

Despite there being no line outside, the bar was pretty full. The low buzz of conversation before the drinks really start to hit filling the crowded space. Mariah finishes her last high note when your eyes connect with Eddie’s before meeting Devin’s. He’s dressed like Danny Tanner and it makes you cringe. Pushing up his wire frame glasses, he waves so eagerly the Salmon’s that cover his dress shirt look like they're swimming in the background rapids with the movements of his arm. He’s completely oblivious to Eddie mocking him behind his back, mouthing ‘DORK’ with a shit eating grin before finally attending to the girl with smeared makeup that had been desperately trying to get his attention from the other end of the bar.

You take a deep breath, readjusting the strap of your bag before you push your chin up making your way over. Determined to have a good time, you put on your best face, returning his wave with forced enthusiasm while Steve’s smile etches itself into your memory permanently.

Paula Abdul’s Vibeology starts pumping through the speakers around you, the sticky floor vibrating with the bass under your sandals as you sway your hips to the beat. He stands up when you approach his spot at the bar and you notice his button up is tucked into mustard colored corduroy slacks, and it makes you miss the tight fitting denim of the man outside even more. Shaking your head to try and get rid of all the thoughts swirling in your head about the guy you weren’t on a date with, you desperately try to match Devin’s excited energy when he opens his arms for a hug.

“I was starting to get worried you were standing me up.” He laughs nervously as you tuck yourself into his chest. Your eyes peek over his shoulder meeting Eddie’s again as he slides your favorite drink over (tequila and pineapple), and god you wish you hadn’t.

Wiggling his eyebrows, you flip him the bird behind Devin’s back watching the bartender pretend to catch it and put it in his pocket making your eyes hit the back of your skull.

“No, sorry, I just lost track of the time.” Not a total lie you leave out the fact that you forgot about him completely just a few minutes ago. Pulling away, you avoid his eyes, too scared they’ll give you away.

“All is forgiven, pretty lady.” He bows slightly, and you have to ignore the way Eddie snorts as he walks past with hands full of Miller Lite.

“You’re so sweet,” cringing at how fake your voice comes out but Devin doesn’t seem to notice as you both take your seats, knees barely touching between the space of the stools.

“Thanks for agreeing to drinks tonight, I’ve been wanting to ask you out for a while now. Just didn’t know, w-with office etiquette a-and all,” stuttering, his nerves get the best of him. He tries to hide it behind a sip of his beer.

“No, I’m, I’m glad you did,”you lie, your eyes flicking to the door one more time before grabbing your drink. An awkward silence settles between the two of you as you press your lips to the rim to slurp at the top to prevent any spill over.

God, you already want this to be over.

The conversation does get easier after your first drink, the flirting a little less forced as your hand finds its way to squeeze his thigh when you laugh at something he says that’s only half funny. Choking on the foam from his beer from your sudden touch, he wipes his mouth bashful from his outburst. Eddie murmurs a “go easy on him tiger” when he gets you a refill, earning him your bratty tongue. 

“So you transferred here last year from Portland, right Devin? What’s it like over there?” Resting your chin on your knuckles, you look up at him from under your lashes enjoying the way it makes his breath catch.

“It was- It was a lot different from here…”

Finally on your A game, you try not to pay attention when the front door opens behind your date. It’s to no avail when you catch his figure in your peripheral and you can’t fight it anymore. All the progress you’ve made going out the window when Steve makes his first reappearance since your arrival. 

Toothpick replaced with what looked like Big Red chewing gum, his hazel eyes scan the crowd before landing on you. The smirk that you’d been trying to forget tugs at the corners of his lips, and any luck that Devin might have had with you tonight disappears like that.

The bouncer looks pointedly at the man beside you, sizing him up, smile stretching wider when he assesses his threat. Leaning against the wall, he crosses his arms across his chest so the sleeves of his shirt look like they are being pushed to their limits as the muscles in his biceps flex. Hips pushed out in a way that’s daring you to look below his waist, he throws you a wink with a snap of his gum.

“...So yeah, that’s the long and short , it,” Devin finishes with a proud smile and you just nod, not catching a single word he said.

Steve’s stare is relentless, and your body responds to it without you having to even meet his gaze. His tongue swipes across his bottom lip, jaw clenching with every hard chew of his gum. Pushing himself off the wall, he starts a slow walk towards you. Big heavy steps bring him closer, every thud of his boots making your thighs clench, as you try desperately to stay concentrated.

Your date’s in the middle of another story that sounds like white noise, your lack of attention making him a babbling mess. He doesn’t notice the way Steve stops next to him first, giving him a once over from up close to make sure he wasn’t missing something from afar before coming up to you with the kind of smile that’s dripping with trouble.

“....So the logistics of it are kinda crazy when you think-“

“Just checking on my pretty new friend over here,” Steve cuts Devin off, not interested in anything but you. His large hand finds the small of your back, his palm almost big enough to cover the exposed skin between your skirt and top. It sends a shiver up your spine that the pad of his thumb soothes when it rubs circles over your sprouting goosebumps. “Having a good night, baby?”

The pet name falls so smoothly off his tongue that it takes Devin a minute to realize that it even left Steve’s mouth, a scowl souring his face when he sees the way your eyes glaze over looking up at the bouncer. 

“Yeah, I’m having a real nice time Steve.” Sucking your bottom lip between your teeth, he notices the subtle way you lean into his touch. Your body needy for more.

“You better be.” He winks, letting the blunt ends of his nails scratch along your back before adding salt to Devin’s wound, “And you know where to find me if that changes.” 

There’s a knowing smirk that plays on the edges of his mouth, biting his lip he finally tears his eyes away from you to give a head nod to the date you’d forgotten about for the second time tonight. Steve tosses him a wink too, a gesture that makes Devin’s jaw clench. Steve opens his mouth to say something that was sure to piss him off more, but he’s cut off by the sound of Eddie’s rings slamming hard on the bar behind you. 

“Dude! What the fuck are you doing inside? Do you know how many people have walked in without getting checked? It's PEAK hours!” The bartender's eyes are frantic, fingers running through his curls as he yells at his friend. “Quit flirting and go do your job. Also, is that a fucking kid man?”

Eddie points to the boy that the bouncer stopped earlier who was snooping around abandoned tables in search for leftovers he was definitely not of legal age for, Steve’s cheeks tint the color of your lipgloss when he looks at you with sheepish eyes. The confidence he was dripping with disappears into embarrassment while doing his best to ignore the smug look on your date’s face.

“Calm down man, it was three minutes! I’ll get rid of the fuckin’ kid. Again.” He rubs the back of his neck as he walks away, stalking towards the boy who looks like he’s seen a ghost. “Hey asshole! You must’ve grown eight years in twenty minutes for me to be seeing you here!” 

The boy raises his hands up in surrender slowly backing away, giving Steve an opportunity to turn around to toss you one last smile and wiggle his fingers at Devin before focusing on the high schooler who is already halfway out the door. The kid's walk turns into a run when Steve cracks his knuckles for show, following him out with long strides, disappearing back outside and out of sight.

You’re left with awkward silence between you and your date as Eddie stomps away muttering under his breath. Devin clears his throat, twirling his beer, the glass against the wood making a sound that starts to grate on your nerves. He’s daring you to look at him. The huff he exhales afterwards begs you to look. Your mind races with ideas of how to get out of this and when you dare to finally take a peek, he’s looking forward, emptying the last of his bottle.

“I’m gonna go smoke a cigarette!” You blurt out, grabbing your bag and leaving no time for a response. Your sandals clack as you power walk to the door. To Steve.

The summer night is sticky on your face when you step out of the bar, the sound of a girl’s sniffled “You’re right Steve” directing your stare to the bouncer you were looking for. Sitting on the very stool you knocked him off of, his big boots sit on the lowest footrest with his knees spread wide. Inviting. His eyes connect with yours, widening a bit when you smirk at him while getting yourself comfortable on the brick wall on the opposite side of the door. Digging your cigarettes out of your purse, you notice the girl next to him has mascara running down her cheeks that she only makes worse when she wipes them with the back of her hand. 

“You know Maryanne, it sounds like this isn’t the first time he’s done this to you. I think it’s time to kick him to the curb. You deserve better.” He speaks to her like they’ve been friends their whole lives and you have no idea how he’s learned so much about her in the few minutes he’s been outside. Crossing his arms as he leans back enough for the legs of the stool to pull up, he catches himself with his shoulders against the wall behind him. 

“He sounds like a chump if you ask me,”you chime in, lighting your cigarette. Steve’s smile shines under the pink luminescent sign above him when he hears your voice. The wooden legs of his stool smacking loud against the cement when he pushes off the wall.

She’s startled by your sudden appearance, not noticing when you came out - too lost in her own world. She gives you a weak smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes before she nods, tugging at her high pony and somehow making it higher. The sequined scrunchy in her hair catches the street light as she tries hyping herself up to return to whoever was making her cry inside.

“He is a chump, but most men are.” She sighs, her shoulders relaxing a little more as she calms down.

“You’ve got this honey, tell him to fuck off and go home with Lisa if that’s what he wants so bad,” Steve champions, patting her on the back, a new layer to Maryanne’s story being revealed. His eyes flick back to you as you take a drag, the mossy green going dark when he watches your cheeks hollow.

“Thanks for listening Steve, I’m gonna go back in now.” She wipes her nose one more time, before giving you a polite head nod.

“Have Eddie make you something sweet, and tell him it’s on me.” The bouncer winks, giving her the boost of confidence she needs before opening the door you just came out of. Monifah’s Touch It adds to the tension between Steve and you when it leaks out of the bar as she disappears inside. The bass thumps against the brick, leaving the song just muffled enough to be background noise when it closes behind her.

The air is heavier, thicker with something you both know is there. Playing hard to get, you don’t meet his gaze, despite feeling it over every curve and dip of your body. Inhaling another hit of nicotine, you lift your head up to exhale the smoke into the dark sky, extending your neck for him to see before you finally give in and chance a glance in his direction.

He looks far too handsome, smiling wide when you meet his eyes, all his perfectly white teeth baring themselves at you in a way that makes your legs shake.

“Missed me already baby?” His feet hit the sidewalk, his man spread somehow bigger this way as he scoots closer to the edge of the stool. 

“You’re not very good at your job, are you?” You grin, successfully dodging the answer he already knows as your head hits the side of the building. Tilting your chin in his direction with your lip tucked between your teeth, you catch his narrowed glare.

“Nice try sweetheart, I used to watch Road House, religiously. I learned from the best. I’m just distracted,” the buttery smoothness of his voice returns, the last of his sentence coming out in a purr.

“Distracted?” You quirk a brow, not giving into him just yet.

“Yes, very much so and I regret to inform you that it’s all your fault too.” He sticks his bottom lip out at you in a pout, earning the giggle he’d been trying to get again since he first heard it, even if it's accompanied by your pretty eyes rolling in the back of your head.

“I’m on a date, Steve.” Even though you know it’s a weak comeback at this point, you still give it and he doesn’t miss a beat.

“Where? I don’t see him.”

Your cheeks heat up at his observation so you take another drag of your half smoked cigarette to try and hide the way he’s affecting you.

“I’m supposed to be quittin’, but you’re makin’ it look too good, pretty girl. Let me have a puff?” His question is an invitation, making the first move to call your bluff, to get you closer.

“Is that why you seem to have a cinnamon addiction?” you tease, not surprised when you kick off the wall accepting it with a smirk and an exaggerated sway of your hips.

He licks his lips while his eyes roam the length of your body unashamed, one large hand raking through his hair when you stop close enough to smell the topic of discussion on his breath. 

“Could be addicted to worse,” he murmurs, not sure where to look having you between his legs like this. 

“It’s a Newport, S‘that okay, Steve?” you ask him from underneath flirting lashes. His breath hitching before a sly smirk spreads across his pink lips.  

“More than okay baby.” He leans closer, fingers wrapping around the plush curve of your hip to anchor you in place.

Tipping up on your toes, your hand comes down on his thigh making the muscle flex against your palm, your touch sending shocks through the rough denim while the other holds the gloss stained end up to his mouth. 

Steve holds your stare when his lips wrap around where yours just were. His nails dig half crescent moons into your exposed skin as his cheeks hollow out. You can feel your heartbeat between your legs, your brows meeting in the middle when he tugs you even closer before tilting his head up. The thick expanse of his neck on full display as he blows out his drag, adam's apple bobbing in the light making the moles dance across his skin. 

“The strawberry really sets it off.” He grins as his hand dares to slide down the top curve of your ass, making it his new home when you make no moves to get away from him.

“Thanks, it’s my favorite gloss.” You shrug, pretending to unphased by his teasing, but the mess in your panties would give you away if he could see.

“Maybe I could get a better taste,” his words are bold, but his free hand is bolder. Soft fingertips play with the top hem of your skirt, daring to dip under the fabric every once and awhile and he swears he hears you whimper.

“You want more?” Your voice comes out small, dripping in honey just for him. You know what he really wants, but he’s not gonna get it yet.

“God, if you’ll let me honey.” There’s a light squeeze on the dough of your ass, and it makes you flutter around nothing.

You lean in slowly, your hand moving further up his thigh watching the way his chest starts to rise and fall from it. Stretching the cotton of his shirt with every breath. The fingers that had been exploring the top of your skirt start a path up to the bottom of your top. A low hum coming from under his breath when the sweetness of your body lotion hits his nose. 

His eyes shut when your faces get close enough that he feels like he can taste the strawberry that he wants so bad. He doesn’t notice when you pull back at the last second to replace your kiss with another puff until your cigarette shoves past his puckered lips. 

When he opens them, he’s met with your giggles, a sound he wants on a loop. He pretends to glare, still taking the hit you were offering him, exhaling it through his nose like an angry bull. He opens his mouth to chastise you but the beeping of his digital pet interrupts his intimidating moment again.

“Gotta get that?” Your lips twitch while you try to contain your laugh, flicking the cigarette onto the street.

“Listen, my best friend got it for me. I thought it was incredibly stupid, and I definitely told her it was too.” The hand on your waist leaves to dig his Tamagotchi out of his front pocket. “But now I’m attached to the little guy.” 

The key chain sized toy lights up in his hand, as he starts to feed it with a press of a button.

“Mine died yesterday,” you admit and the laugh you’d been fighting off echoes loudly when he looks up at you horrified. 

“What? Do you have it with you now?”he questions as the small happy tune plays signaling that his pet is fully satisfied. 

“She’s somewhere in my bag, don’t worry she was reborn this morning,” your words don’t reassure him considering they seem to need food every thirty minutes and you haven’t pulled it out once since he’s met you.

“Sounds like you want her to die again to me.” Steve’s very real concern about your Tamagotchi has you smirking.

“They die so easily, you’re telling me yours hasn’t died?” 

Your jaw drops when he shakes his head ‘no’, a smugness taking over his handsome features.

“Steve, that’s like really hard to do.” You don’t know whether you should be impressed or roast him but when his hand grips at your ass one more time you decide it’s the first.

“Better give her to me for the night baby, I’ll keep her nice and healthy for my favorite girl.” Stuffing his back into his pocket, he holds his palm open for you in a vow to keep your digital pet alive and an excuse to see you later.

Rolling your eyes playfully, you obey his wishes. Digging to the bottom of your bag till you find your purple one. The screen already going off, and the muffled beeping that signaled the need for it to be fed finally becomes loud enough to hear.

“See! I told you. On the cusp of death already.” 

You drop it in his hand, right as an older trucker comes barreling out of the bar reminding you where you’re at and that Devin is still waiting inside. Again.

“Fuck, I should go back in.” You sigh as your fingers play with the seam on the leg of his jeans.

“Go back in and tell that guy to get lost,” the bouncer almost whines, his grip on your hip tightening before he lets you go.

“Steve,” you huff but the smile on your face gives him hope.

“Just saying sweetheart, could be fun.” He shrugs, putting on an air of nonchalance while your Tamagotchi dangles from his thumb.

You both know who you really want to go home with tonight.

The bubble you and Steve are in pops as soon as you get back inside The sound of the distant cars on the freeway and Steve’s voice is replaced with Return of the Mack and the crowd that was at a simmer when you first got here is now at a full boil. 

You have to get rid of Devin.

He’s right where you left him, hunched over and twirling his beer bottle on top of the bar. You notice the three empty shot glasses before you see Eddie dropping off another one while giving you the kind of eyes that say ‘Come take care of your date’ as he walks away. Taking a deep breath, you make your way towards him going over all the ways you can let him down easy while your nerves drown out the little bit of guilt you had for ditching him.

“Heeeey,” your voice is high pitched, awkwardness dripping from its tone when you finally return to your stool next to him.

Crickets.

You freeze - he’s ignoring you. How can you get rid of him if he’s ignoring you? Your eyes shift around the bar nervously, offering an awkward tight lipped smile when anyone meets your stare. You search for Eddie again, hoping to silently ask for help but his back is to you, clearly putting the moves on a girl at the other end.

“Devin.” 

You hope that saying his name will elicit the desired response but that dwindles quickly when he chugs the rest of his beer, continuing his charade and keeping his gaze forward before slamming the empty bottle down.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” he grumbles, irritation laced in every word before he pushes off the stool still not meeting your eyes.

You wait till he’s out of earshot before you let out a groan, your long disappearance clearly pissed him off. Propping yourself up by your elbows on the sticky bar, you close your eyes, rubbing your temples while you try to think of the right way to go about this. Eddie’s knowing chuckle is the last thing you want to hear but that’s just how the night is going now.

“You pretty little scoundrel!” He slaps the spot in front of you forcing your eyes open, his smile only widening when you glare at him.

“He’s so pissed and now thanks to you,” gesturing towards the empty shot glasses Eddie gets rid of with quick hands, you avoid the real reason, “He’s gonna be trashed!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa sweetheart. I’m not the one who can’t keep their hands off Stevie boy. And on a date too? Tsk tsk tsk.” He crosses his arms with a shake of his head, “Now you broke poor Derek’s -“

“Devin.”

“Whatever - fish guy’s heart. Aren’t you in a little predicament hmm?” Eddie hums the last part, but you can see the excited glint in his eyes. He loves watching your escapades.

“Listen,” you can’t help the giggle that bubbles past your strawberry lips under his knowing gaze, “When you told me he was hot Eddie, you didn’t tell me he was that hot.”

Smirking, you enjoy watching the way his face contorts knowing that was a damn lie.

“Are you kidding?” He throws his hands in the air, giving you the reaction you were baiting him for, “It was the first thing I told you.”

You laugh loudly at his exasperation with your antics, almost forgetting about Devin entirely for the third time tonight. 

“Have fun figuring out this little love triangle you’ve created, I need to get to the rest of the paying customers so I can get back to that hottie at the end of the bar.” He points to the girl he was talking to earlier who’s sipping a drink she looks surprised to even like.

“I bet you aren’t charging her for anything are you?” You narrow your eyes playfully, cackling when he rolls his waving you off as he walks away.

Sliding off the stool, you tug up your tube top, ready to give it to Devin straight, more than eager to get back outside again. 

“I knew the guys in the office said you were easy, but I didn’t think you’d be spreading your legs for anything that walked on our date.” Devin’s voice comes as a surprise, but the tight grip on your arm pulling you to him is an even bigger one.  

Searing rage fills every part of your body at the fact that he put his hands on you, palms flat on his chest, you use all your strength to shove him away. Shock paints his features, not expecting you to fight back so aggressively. All the drinks he’s had make him stumble back, losing his footing almost falling into the couple next to him.

“Well I’m sure as shit not spreading them for you!” you spit, looking him up and down with disgust before putting a finger in his face, “And your shirt? It’s fucking ugly.”

You give him one last once over before shaking your head and walking away. Heading back towards the entrance, you notice Steve inside again. A hard glare is set on his face, nostrils flaring as he zeros in on Devin behind you who’s still trying to regain his balance. 

God, it’s the hottest he’s looked all night. 

Steve’s hazel eyes meet yours and they instantly soften when you can’t help but smile as he opens the door for you.

“Thanks Stevie,” using Eddie’s nickname, you run your hands across his chest when you walk by, just to add salt to Devin’s wound.

The flush that paints his cheeks tells you how much he likes it.

“When I told you to ditch your date, I didn’t mean to fist fight him, honey,” he teases, following you outside, letting the chipped red door shut behind you and muffling the sounds of the bar again. 

“He got mad about my little disappearance before I could let him down easy.” Turning around, you bite your bottom lip to try to hide your growing smile.

“Poor guy.” Steve grins before taking the two steps to close the gap, to crowd your space. Cinnamon fanning across your face, “Never stood a chance.”

It’s harder for you to breathe when he looks at you like he wants to kiss you, but before you can respond, the door flies open.A drunk Devin stumbling out with a glare breaking you two apart.

“Of course, of FUCKING course. Not even two seconds later? You really are a slut, huh?” Devin seethes, stumbling out onto the sidewalk.

“I’m really going to need you to watch your mouth champ. No need to call girls names. You’re a big boy.” Steve’s tone is condescending as he squares up, making sure you’re behind him.

“You think you’re so fucking cool,” Devin scoffs before hiccuping, “Careful with this one, she’s probably sucked your buddy’s dick inside too.” 

“Yeah, that’s enough, asshole. Go home, before I have to beat some respect into that ugly skull of yours.” Steve cracks his knuckles again, but it doesn’t have the same effect as before, Devin only raising his eyebrows at the bouncer.

“Respect? That’s funny. The whore behind you hasn’t heard of it.”  

Steve loses his cool and like a flash he’s on him. Pulling his fist back Steve moves just a little too slow and Devin clocks him right in the jaw. The sound of bone against bone echoes loudly into the night. Stumbling back, Steve cradles where an ugly bruise will start forming in the morning, rubbing it out. He cracks his neck before barreling towards Devin, taking him down to the ground like a football player.

In a flurry of fists and cuss words, Devin somehow gets Steve pinned. The alcohol and anger flowing through his system turns him into The Hulk. Your screams for them to stop fall on deaf ears while they continue to roll around on the ground. Panic sets in when you realize neither man is going to stop. Doing the only thing you know how to do in these situations, you get Eddie.

Frantic, you open the door, ignoring the fact that  Third Eye Blind is playing at the exact worst time, you scream Eddie’s name loud enough to silence the bar.

“Eddie! It’s bad. Steve needs you!” 

He looks up from a clearly flirtatious conversation with the girl from before, both of their eyes landing on you as you get your friends attention. He grumbles, grabbing her hands saying something to her that makes her nod bashfully before jumping over the bar top. Jogging out the front, he towers easily over the two men, neither one of you bothering to check the red heads I.D. that walks in after you.

“The first fucking night man!” Eddie yells at Steve, grabbing Devin by the back of his shirt pulling him off the bouncer with ease, but not before Steve gets one more cheap shot in.

He wrestles against Eddie’s grip for a second before finally giving up with a hiccup, hocking a loogie in Steve’s direction.

“You done?” The bartender's face is unamused, as he waits for Devin to nod. “I never wanna see you or your shitty ass style at my bar again. Beat it bozo before I give you a matching black eye to go with the one Steve gave you.”

Two against one is too much for Devin to take on, so he raises his hands up in surrender when Eddie lets him go. Rolling his tongue against his cheek he shoots you one last glare before turning on his heel. Flipping everyone off as he starts down the sidewalk. Steve returns the gesture, spitting at his retreating form.

“You good?” Eddie asks, extending his hand for his friend to take.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. Just hate that guy.” Steve mumbles, looking everywhere but at you while he straightens his shirt and dusts off his jeans with bloody knuckles.

“Your hand dude, I can’t have you bleeding all over people I.D’s. and I know Rick doesn’t have a first aid kit. At least I’ve never seen one.” Eddie rubs the back of his neck, stress coming in the form of knitted brows.

“I’ve got one,” you mumble, finally finding your voice and the bartender claps, wiping his hands clean of the situation.

“There, go play nurse with lover boy and get out of my hair tonight. I’m like this close,” he pinches two fingers together to show “to scoring and you both have been fucking it up every chance you can get. I swear to god.” 

Eddie waves you off as he makes his way back in, and you can feel the shift in energy between you and the bouncer you’ve been wanting all night.

Steve’s quiet the whole walk up the stairs to your apartment, fuming with anger and embarrassment, the confidence from before gone while the bruise on his jaw deepens and he cradles his bleeding knuckles.

“This is me,” you break the silence cringing, your voice amplified in the walls of the narrow hallway while you dig out your key.

“Thanks for this, angel,” his words come out in just above a whisper but at least it’s something.

The endearment has a smile creeping across your face and you finally dare to turn around to get a look at him after you hear the click of your lock. You press your back against your open door, it’s your turn to extend an invitation.

“Anytime Stevie.”

His face softens the minute he lays his eyes on you again, jealous of the way you bite your bottom lip sweetly, he wishes it was him. 

You let Steve into your world one heavy boot at a time, locking the door behind you. Watching the way his dimmed eyes brighten, curiosity winning over any leftover irritation. The ghost of a smirk twitches at the corners of his lips while he walks the small space of your studio taking everything in. The neon sign outside your window is the only light that illuminates it, shadows dancing off trinkets on shelves and pictures on walls, he was getting a glimpse of you. 

He stops in the middle of your room, right at the edge of your bed. The dark denim and leather that cover him are a stark contrast against your baby blue rug, but you think he looks like he belongs here. You watch the way he takes in your hastily made bed, licking his lips when he sees a pair of panties that didn’t quite make it in the laundry basket in the corner. The radio you’d forgotten to turn off plays a commercial, filling the space between you, and you aren’t prepared for when he puts his full attention back on you again after not having it for the past twenty minutes. Your body responds immediately to the playful glint in his eye.

“Cute place, for a cute girl.” He grins, running his good hand through his hair before he walks over to the window to take a look at your view.

“I bet you say that to all of em’,” you tease because it’s easier to do with his back to you. Making your way to the bathroom, nerves burst like butterflies in your stomach.

“You’re the only one baby.” 

His response is quick as he turns around, the flirting you’d grown accustomed to coming back like a raging storm. He watches your hips while you walk the short distance with a heavy stare that covers every part of you. Leaning against the door frame with your curves on full display, something shifts behind his eyes. Flipping the lightswitch, white beams break apart the pink, highlighting even more of you for him to drink in.

“Come on handsome, let’s get you patched up.”

His cheeks flush at the new nickname and it's his turn to bite his lip in a shy smile for you. 

It doesn’t take more than a few steps for his long legs, the wood creaking under his weight. Pressing your back to the frame, he stops in front of you with one foot over the threshold and the other still in your room. He takes up so much space. His biceps flex when he reaches for your hip, tugging you even closer, you can smell the menthol still lingering on his breath. On instinct your palm hits his chest, muscles dancing under heated skin as you tilt your chin up to meet his eyes. Squeezing at your softness before he speaks, he lets his middle finger dip under the top of your skirt.

“I really meant it when I said thank you back there. Just need you to know that.” His finger dares to dip lower, rubbing circles that make your back arch, hips pushing forward on a search for his. The curve of your stomach touches the cool metal of his belt buckle and the heat of his body sets fire between your thighs.

“I know you did,” your voice is sweet for him, the tone you know he likes while your hand moves down the dip between his pecs, “Thank you for sticking up for me.”

You can feel the coarse hair that starts at the top of his belly button where your hand stops, and you swear you feel him twitch in his pants. A second one of his fingers finds its way under your skirt and another subtle tug gets you even closer. So close that all you’d have to do is stand on your tiptoes for your lips to touch. 

“Anything for you, pretty girl,” he breathes, spice and tobacco taking over. His adam’s apple bobs when he catches the way you start staring at his lips, the gloss on your own shimmering in the new light.

“Anything?” Quirking your brow with a smirk, your innuendo makes him moan and his hold on you tighten.

“Absolutely.” Ducking his head lower so his nose brushes against the bridge of yours, he dares you to make the first move.

“In that case…” Pressing your toes down to push yourself up, the playful glint in your eye goes unnoticed by him.

Your lips are a ghost, his top one barely brushing against your bottom, it's enough for him to taste the strawberry he wanted more of outside but not enough to satisfy. His eyes flutter closed waiting to feel their full plushness but your words bring him back to reality.

“Sit on the toilet for me.”

The specks of emerald shine again when his eyes snap open to see you flat on your feet with a grin. Groaning loudly with fake irritation, he lets go of you in exasperated defeat, letting his head fall back and hit the wood of the frame.

“What? We came up here for my first aid kit, didn't we?” You giggle after you say it, you don’t mean it.

“Sure, sure, yeah, yeah.” Nodding, he runs a hand through his hair while he looks around your bathroom. 

It smells like your coconut body wash and it drives him crazy. He takes an unexpected step forward, his hand finding its way back to your hip to push you against the wall. One heavy boot between your wedged sandals, getting just close enough to kiss you. Is he going to?

It's your eyes that flutter closed this time, your fingers wrapping themselves around his belt loops again. He’s tentative with his injured hand when he uses it to cradle your jaw. His palm is soft as it covers half your neck, his thumb pushing up against your chin to tilt your face up to his. He runs the tip of his nose along your cheek and you feel your knees start to get weak, a whimper begging to fall from your parted lips.

“If that’s the only thing we’re here to do then we should get to it then, huh?” 

Just as quick as he invades your space, he leaves it. The porcelain of your toilet seat cover clunks loudly when he drops himself on it. Spread out like on the stool outside, he takes over the room, leaving you to catch your breath with a smug grin.

It’s a staring contest with narrowed eyes after that, but the twitch of your lips tells him you aren’t actually mad. He snorts when you clear your throat to regain your composure, purposely ignoring the obvious when you bend over to open the cabinet under the sink, pulling out the bright red zip up bag. 

“We need to wash your knuckles first, then I’ll put some ointment on them and wrap it up for you. We’ll keep it that way for the night and we can check on it in the morning.” The words leave your mouth before you can stop them and he catches the slip up instantly.

“Oh? You need to keep me overnight for observations?” 

You bite your lip to try and hide your smile, grabbing a washcloth running it under hot water instead of looking at him. 

“You know what I meant, I’ll come check on it tomorrow when you get to work.” You don’t even believe your lie, and the toothy smile you catch from the corner of your eye tells you he doesn’t either.

“But nurse, I don’t know. I think I should stay, I got hit in the face too. Concussions you know? I really shouldn’t be alone tonight.” He lays it on thick, eating up the way he sees you loving it spreading across your face when you ring out the soapy rag.

You don’t try to hide it when you finally face him, or when you settle between his legs for the second time tonight. The new position has him eye level with your chest, easier access to his lips. You hold your palm out for him, your hand disappearing completely when he drapes his wounded one over it.

“Concussion, huh? Are you feeling light headed Steve?” You play along giving your best impression of a medical professional.

He hisses when you press the damp cloth to his knuckles, sucking in air between his teeth when you start to clean. The soothing circles the pad of your thumb rubs on the side of his hand is almost enough to distract him from it.

“Yeah, but that started before I got hit.” 

You finally dare to meet his gaze, a flattered smile spreading wide across your face that you try to play down with a roll of your eyes.

“Hmmm,” you hum to yourself, deciding not to give in just yet as you switch from the rag to the ointment, getting the bandaging and medical tape out.

“I mean, you’re the professional honey. You tell me.” You feel his good hand tug at the bottom of your skirt while you smear the neosporin on his knuckles with a q-tip, his long fingers flexing at the cooling effect.

“It started before you got hit?” You question with a fake pensive expression, gently taking his palm in your hand to start the wrapping process. 

“Yeah, you see, this girl hit me with a door earlier. Knocked me clean off my stool.” He makes the motion of him falling with a swipe of his hand, “ and I haven’t been the same since if I’m being completely honest.”

It takes everything inside you to not give him the satisfaction of a laugh, the way you met coming back to the forefront of your mind.

“Some would argue putting your stool in front of the door like that is kinda stupid, but that's just my professional opinion.” Your shrug earns a loud laugh from him and you relish in it, promising yourself you’ll get him to do it again.

“All done.” You let go of his hand and he already misses you holding it, but the proud look on your face is a good distraction while you admire your handy work.

He holds it up, and you still can’t get over just how big they are. Curling his fingers in before extending them, he only winces slightly from the pain. The pressure of the bandage already helping. He jumps slightly when the backs of your fingers smooth over the fresh bruise forming on his jaw, the stubble tickling your skin. His eyes watch yours as they rake over the damage, the softness of your touch almost enough to make his eyelids heavy when you stroke the sore spot again.

“What do you think, huh?” His question comes out quiet, the playful edge gone while both his hands find the back of your legs. Rough fingertips run up your calves, catching the bottom of your skirt as they go, “Are you gonna keep me baby?”

A shiver runs up your spine when he hits the back of your thighs and you feel yourself getting pulled closer. He drags his nose up the bare skin of your sternum while his hands grab doughy handfuls just below the curve of your ass. The sound of your moan when his fingers get high enough to just barely graze the soaked material between your weakening legs sends him into overdrive. Growling, he nips at the tops of one of your breasts.

“Come on, tell me, what’s it gonna be?” Despite trying to sound confident, there’s a desperation in the way he asks. He knows you want it but he needs you to say it.

It’s when his fingers slip under the lace trim of your panties that you finally give in with a gentle grab of his chin. His eyes are black when they meet yours, the ends of his nails digging into soft skin. 

“Yeah, I’m gonna keep you.” You give into an urge you’ve had since you laid eyes on him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you spread yourself open for his hands to wander.

He doesn’t hold back anymore and you’re reminded of just how tall he actually is when he stands up. His actions are quick and with purpose, the strength you knew was behind those muscles showing itself when he lifts you onto the edge of the sink with your skirt rucked up to your hips. He man handles you in a way no one ever has and you feel it light a fire in your gut. Impatient for his next move, you grab the collar of his shirt while his hands spread wide over the tops of your thighs, your lips finally getting to do what they’ve wanted all night.

It’s soft at first, both of you moving slow as you figure out what the other likes, careful not to hurt his jaw. One of his hands finds its way back to your cheek, the pad of his thumb rubbing the length of the bone while his tongue begs you to open up. He traces the top of your lip, shuddering at the taste of the strawberry and it makes him wonder if your skin tastes like the coconut he smells. 

You give him the access he wants, your tongues meeting in the middle, making the fire that had been begging to consume you pour out from your fingertips that bury themselves into the roots at the nape of his neck. You need more. The hard length that has been fighting against the denim of his jeans presses hard into where you want his attention, your legs wrap around him - silently begging him to do it again.

One arm snakes around your lower back, holding you flush against his chest, the grind of his hips giving you the friction that makes you keen. A moan and a breathless “fuck” is what breaks your lips apart when his zipper catches your swollen clit with just the right amount of pressure. He uses his new found freedom to kiss down the length of your jaw, humming against your heated skin when you tilt your head to give him better access to all the sensitive places he can’t wait to discover. He sucks the soft spot behind your ear when you meet the next roll of his hips, your slides falling loudly off your feet to the tile floor.

“Steve,” his name comes out in a high pitch whine when he starts sucking a bruise in a place you know you’ll have to try and cover up for the next few days. He was marking you, and you could care less. You hold him there, encouraging more as his teeth graze your pulse point, a “baby” slipping past his lips when he finally pulls away.

He meets your eyes with flushed cheeks and messy hair and the kind of hunger that makes you melt.

“Let me take you to bed, let me take care of you,” he’s panting, his hold on you tightening so you can feel just how bad he needs this. A smirk spreads across his swollen lips when your hips shift in search for more, giving him the answer he needs along with the nod of your head.

Just as easy as he lifted you on the sink, he carries you to the bed, big hands cradling thick thighs before he lays you on your back. Your giggle fills the space in between heavy pants before TLC’s Creep starts playing over the speakers of the radio. His hands find their way to the bottom of his shirt, pulling it over his head and you watch an expanse of new freckles and moles get revealed to you. You want to kiss them all. They dot the spots next to the dark hair over his belly button while the thick thatch of chest hair you’d only gotten a glimpse of glistens with beads of sweat in the glow of the Foxy Lounge light. 

His jeans hang low enough for you to get a glimpse of the veins protruding from the V shape that leads to the part of him that’s sure to make you forget your own name. His grin is cocky when he recognizes the expression on your face. Grabbing your ankle, he pulls you closer to the edge of the bed. The bottom of your foot resting on the soft hair of his chest while long fingers hold you in place. He keeps his eyes trained on yours while he starts to trail wet kisses down the inside of your leg. The stubble covering his jaw scratching along his path in the best way. He stops when he gets to the soft skin of your knee, nipping playfully, he smirks at the squeal it earns him before he drops your leg in favor of curling his fingers under the top of your skirt.

You lift your hips for him without him having to ask, and the flash of his teeth is almost enough to blind you. He’s slick with his movements, taking your panties too. You hear his breath catch in his throat when he sees the effects all his teasing has on you. His fingers grip at your thighs before pulling your sticky skin apart with a lick of his lips.

“Look at you baby, all this for me?” The last part of his question comes out in a groan when he swipes the pad of his thumb against your bundle of nerves, kicking up in his jeans when your legs shake in response. “So sensitive too. Let me make her feel good, yeah?” 

He swipes his thumb against your clit again making your eyes shut tight and your hips buck.

“I need to hear you say it.” He keeps rubbing circles, applying just enough pressure for you to forget how to speak, “Come on, be a good girl for me.”

His other hand pulls down your tube top, breasts spilling out in the blush light for his eyes to devour. He groans at the sight, his other hand coming up to cup the soft flesh feeling the way your nipples pebble against the warmth of his palm.

“Steeeeve, please.” 

You’re whining for him and it makes his brows pinch together, feeling drunk off you. 

“God angel, you’re fuckin’ beautiful you know that?” He emphasizes his question with his hands, giving your sides a squeeze while his eyes roam every dip and curve of your body. “Turn around for me? I wanna see all of you.”

The look on his face makes you decide that you’ll never deny him anything he asks, giving him a nod, you run your hands up his arms, nails dragging across the light hair before you push yourself up to get on all fours.

You feel completely exposed to him like this, all the secret places of your body on full display. He’s quiet for a minute and it’s almost enough for your nerves to get the best of you until you feel his palm find the apple of your ass. Fingers digging into doughy flesh, a groan loud enough to drown out the music erupts deep from his chest.

“Baby, baby, babyyy,” he emphasizes the last endearment with another handful before pulling your cheeks apart to get a better look at your dripping cunt, “Prettiest pussy I’ve ever fuckin’ seen.”

Your hips wiggle at his words, your walls fluttering around nothing while the cool air from the overhead fan hits your heat, sending goosebumps dancing across your supple flesh. A dark chuckle leaves him when he sees how much power his words have over you. His knees hit the side of the mattress, one hand hooking around your hip while the other runs down the dip of your spine giving you a light push when he hits your shoulder blades until you're bent over for him.

“She likes when I talk to her, huh?” his voice is low, mesmerized when you start dripping on the bed for him and he’s barely touched you, “She likes when I call her pretty doesn’t she?”

The moan that leaves your mouth is pathetic and he wishes he could record it. 

“Playing hard to get all night, but look at you.” His good hand comes down hard enough on your ass for the fat to jiggle and you to fist handfuls of your comforter because of it, “Making such a filthy mess and I haven’t even put my mouth on you yet.”

His grip is rough when he tugs your hips, the outline of his dick pressing into you, the denim scratching against your clit in a way that has your eyes rolling in the back of your head. 

“Tell me how much you want my mouth baby, tell me how much you want me to make you cum.” He grinds against you again, only this time making sure to apply the kind of pressure that makes your back arch.

“Fuck - Steve, please I want it. I’ve wanted it all night. I’ve wanted it all night,” you're babbling as he circles his hips, fingers kneading your soft skin.

Satisfied with your answer he mumbles a “so good for me” as he pulls away he gives you another light slap to your ass - signaling for you to scoot up, your mattress dipping behind you when he gets on his knees. 

Big hands spread you apart, your forehead hits the comforter when you feel the heat of his breath against your slick folds. Your walls flutter, begging for his attention when his tongue runs a long stripe up your slit. He hums at the taste before he does it again, this time making sure to circle your clit before lapping up everything you were drenching him with like he was thirsty for it. 

“Oh my god,” you huff into your blankets, toes curling when he starts an assault against your bundle of nerves, the pointed tip of his nose pressing deeper into your entrance as he gets lost in the sounds he’s pulling from you.

His fingers stretch across the tiger stripes on your butt cheeks, pulling you even further apart to give him better access. The coil inside you already threatening to snap when he sucks hard on your clit. He lets it go with a loud pop, smirking to himself at the way he has your body shaking from overstimulation already.

“Taste so fuckin’ good. Strawberries, just like your lips.” He groans, inhaling your scent like a man starved, his good hand coming down on your cheek again only this time a little harder pulling out another broken moan from you.

“Can I taste all of you pretty girl?” 

There’s zero hesitation when you say ‘yes’, in fact it’s a little desperate. He could have whatever he wanted from you now. Not even sure what he means, your brain’s too fuzzy with lust to comprehend anything until you feel the tip of his tongue circle a place you’d never let anyone else go before.

“Holy shit - Steve.” The new sensation sends another wave arousal to your dripping core, a needy whine following it when he does it again.

“This okay?” He kisses the curve underneath the apple of your cheek, the softness of his voice comforting you while he checks in.

“God, it’s, it’s -“ He gives you another kitten lick and it makes your eyes roll in the back of your head, “It’s more than okay - Jesus Christ.”

Too lost in the feeling of him testing the tightness of you with his tongue, you aren’t expecting his thick finger to start circling the entrance he’d been neglecting, the one you need him to fill the most. Your silk walls welcome the intrusion with ease, the stretch only stinging a little when he pushes to the last knuckle while his tongue starts getting a little more bold. Your back arches when he groans against you, curling his finger to hit the spot only you’d ever been able to find with ease. He adds a second digit when you start bucking against his face, the new addition almost makes you run away. He tsks at you from buried between your butt cheeks, one large hand locking you in place when he starts feeling you get close.

“Give it to me,” he demands, coming up for air. Fingertips relentless against the spot that has you squelching loudly.

His mouth returns to the sensitive part of you, tongue circling your tightness in a way that has you finally snapping. Your walls constrict, wrapping around his fingers while your vision goes white. Your body freezes, the orgasm overwhelming your muscles with a violent shake, his name falling from your lips like it’s the only word you know. You feel him grin against you, the movements of his fingers only slowing down but never stopping, milking every last drop you give him.

“So good, so pretty when you cum baby,” he mumbles praises, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach while your body comes down from its first high. 

You feel his weight leave the mattress, hear the metal of his belt buckle clinking followed by the low thump of his jeans hitting the floor. You find enough strength to look over your shoulder and it’s enough to make you whimper. Steve’s big. Dark hair at the base, it’s thick and curved, the pretty pink tip leaking just for you. The long vein that runs up the side pulses when he gives it a couple of tugs before his knees hit the mattress again. 

His hands spread over your hips pulling you closer before he starts trailing kisses up your back, the silver of his chain making you shiver as it runs up your spine till his lips stop right at your ear.

“You ready for me?” 

Your eyes meet his and they’re pitch black, tucking your bottom lip between your teeth, you know yours looks the same when you give him a nod but you know that’s not going to be enough for him.

“Come on, you know what I need,” his tone is mocking as he grabs his cock at the base, swiping his head through your folds, smirking at the way you try to suck him in, your body greedy for him.

“Please, please, please, please.” 

All your self respect goes out the window when he pushes the tip in and you can’t stop repeating yourself. The stretch is already bigger than his two fingers and he wasn’t even half way in yet and for a brief moment you wonder if he’ll even fit. 

“Fuck - baby.”

He moans as he pushes further, sheathing himself half way and he feels the way it makes your legs shake. His hand sneaks around your waist to find your clit, slippery fingers rubbing circles to get you to open up more as he rolls his hips one more time bottoming out. He groans so loud you’re sure anyone who might be smoking outside of the bar can hear him. 

“Holy shiiiit, I’ve never had pussy like this.” He stills, adjusting to how tight you feel, and it’s his turn to babble as you constrict around him making him twitch -  dangerously close to cumming already.

“You feel so good Stevie,” you whine as you push back against him, taking his length even deeper, feeling every curve and ridge of him against your walls.

He pulls out half way before slamming back in and it makes him curse under his breath before he does it again, only harder.

“God, fuck- this is all mine now, yeah?” he mutters, an angry edge to his words when he thinks about Devin getting to do this. 

“Mmhmm,” your answer is automatic, no thoughts behind your eyes while his cock fills you in the way you fantasize about when you touch yourself. 

“That’s right baby, it’s mine. You’re mine.” 

His thrusts get aggressive as he gets closer to his release, your slick making it easy for him to slide almost completely out before pushing back in. The rough hair covering his pelvis rubbing your clit at the same time his tip reaches the same spot his fingers pulled your first orgasm from. 

“Shit, Steve, right there.”  Your jaw goes slack, eyes closing tight when he hits it again, your words spurring him on while he tries to re-grip his hold on your sweat-kissed skin.

“Yeah? you want more?” He makes sure to put all his attention where you want, slowing his hips just enough to hit it even harder. “I’ll give you more.”

Steve tilts his head to the side watching how you wrap around him, and the way he barely has to push back in, your greedy walls doing almost all the work when he finds the perfect pace that has you twisting the sheets.

He huffs out a cocky laugh and it makes you tighten in response, tears pricking the corners of your eyes.”Yeah, I know baby. I know. You gonna cum again for me?”

“Uh-huh,” you manage to get out with a nod but it’s not enough for him, he needs you loud enough for Devin to hear from across town.

The sound of skin slapping against skin drowns out the music, keeping his stamina up despite the twitch of his cock, he bends over, somehow getting deeper, the cool metal of his chain dragging across your back while one hand snakes under your waist. His fingers are unrelenting when they find their way to your puffy clit again, applying just enough pressure to get your legs to shake for him.

“I’m gonna ask again, are you gonna cum for me?” He keeps his voice even, but he knows he’s not gonna last much longer, especially not when your cheek hits the mattress and you meet his eyes looking like that.

“Yeah, god, yeah Steveee! Please, please, please.” You don’t even know what you’re begging for but it makes Steve’s resolve break. 

The moan he lets out is loud enough to echo off your wall, warmth flooding your insides as he cums hard enough to collapse against your back. It’s enough to send you over the edge for the second time. Your walls fluttering enough to make his nails dig crescent moons into your hips with a low “fuck” escaping him as you milk him for more with the sweetest chant of his name he’s ever heard.

“That’s it baby.” He coos lips placing sloppy kisses along the your shoulder blades when you collapse against the mattress, your bodies tangled in a way you don’t have the energy to leave quite yet.

The radio cuts out leaving just the sound of the two of you trying to catch your breath, you can faintly hear ‘Pony’ playing from the bar below but the sound of a car driving past quickly snuffs it out. You feel his nose nudge against your ear, a slow lazy smile creeping across your face when his lips brush your temple.

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you better stay the night just in case.”

His laugh vibrates against your back, a toothy grin pressed to your skin.

“It’s always better to be safe than sorry,” he agrees. The response you somehow managed to conjure up gets lost on your tongue when both your long forgotten Tamagotchi’s go off in his abandoned pants in a matching tune you’d never heard before.

“Our babies need daddy, honey,” he groans, slowly lifting himself up on his elbows.

You roll your eyes with a snort as he trails kisses down your back only wincing slightly when he pulls himself out. Folding your arms under your head, you still can’t bring yourself to move, but the view of him naked and still semi hard while he holds the two digital pets in his hand with a confused expression isn’t one you really can turn away from.

“What?” Your curiosity is piqued when his eyes grow big.

“No fuckin’ way,” he mumbles more to himself than you, “I didn’t even know they could do this.”

“What??” The irritation is clear in your voice, the feeling of being left out turning you into a brat.

“Umm, I think they had babies… yep. Marty definitely got her pregnant.” The smile on his face gives away just how excited he actually is and you hate to admit that it’s contagious.

“Well we’re gonna have to figure out a child support plan I’m afraid. Daisy’s a free woman Steve.” The serious delivery makes him do a double take before he narrows his eyes.

“Child support? No, we're raising these kids together. So I’m gonna need you to care a little bit about keeping her alive. It's not just you here honey.” He tosses you the toy before jumping back on the bed pulling your body into his chest with ease, “I’m afraid you’re never getting rid of me.”

---

---

---

[osmanthus-wine-addiction]

One Man's Stone is Another Man's Gem

◈ Pairing: Zhongli x fem!Reader ◈ Summary: You've just gotten out of an exhausting relationship with your boyfriend of ten years. Your boss, who you've only brushed shoulders with a few times in the six years you've worked at the company, suddenly makes you an offer that you can't turn down. ◈ Contains: NSFW, Boss/Employee Relationship, Power Imbalance, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Emotional Manipulation

The table was at the back of the restaurant, nice and secluded. The seats were comfy as usual. Since you were sitting beside him instead of across from him, the atmosphere was much more intimate than you anticipated. You hoped you wouldn’t get too comfortable with him after pouring a few glasses of wine down your throat, or else you were definitely going to act on these already unruly hormones.

The food came and you had unknowingly downed half a bottle of wine. You couldn’t help yourself. You wanted to loosen up after all the stress you had been under and Zhongli’s presence gave you an unexplainable sense of security.

“Why are you treating me so well, Mister Zhongli? I’m just an assistant.” You asked him again.

Zhongli chuckled softly, his eyes fixed on you. “You’re more than just an assistant to me,” he said with a hint of something else in his voice. “And I promise to never let someone hurt you like that again.”

You giggled at his words. You must be mishearing. Maybe you had drank too much. Why was Zhongli, your boss, reciting lines from a romcom you had watched last week?

“You don’t need to promise me anything. I’m... I’m sort of past taking people at their words.” You waved your hand in front of him animatedly.

Zhongli leaned closer, his warm breath ghosting across your cheek.

“I don’t make promises I don’t intend to keep,” he whispered.

He sounded so sincere. You were forced to snap out of your wine induced daze for a moment and stare at him.

“I owe you for that day. I’m very grateful for it, Zhongli.” You chewed on your words, struggling to word them in a way that sounded less shameless. “But it sounds like you’re not just talking about work...”

He drew in a breath. “You’re right. I was going was going to say this to you after you’ve moved on from him, but it looks like you’ve seen through my intentions.”

Zhongli could not be implying the ridiculous things running through your head right now. He was the CEO of the company you worked at for the past six years. Someone like him wouldn’t even look at someone like you. You had to preserve what little dignity you had left after allowing yourself to be used by a man for ten years. Delusions like this were only going to plunge you into an even deeper pit of despair. You might be drunk, but you refused to let go of your reality, no matter how bleak it was.

“You didn’t have to help me, but you went out of your way to, and I’ll always remember that.” You told him as you leaned into him.

The neckline of your dress gave him an inviting view of your body from this angle, but you weren't concerned. If he wanted to see more, you wouldn’t deny him the chance to, but why would he want to in the first place?

“I don’t get you, Zhongli. I appreciate that you’re doing all this for me, but don’t you think you’re doing a little too much?” You squinted as you watched him up close, as if the answer to your question was written in fine print somewhere on this handsome face of his.

He pulled back slightly. “Quite the contrary. I can’t help but feel I’m not doing enough.”

“Oh, you’ve done plenty. As far as being my boss, you’re doing much more than I ever expected from you. To be honest, it feels a bit like...”

“Like I’m pursuing you?” He finished the sentence you were too afraid to finish. “If I say I am, will you let me?”

[bluecollarmcandtf]

Influencer Island

Isn't this generation the worst! My family's resort used to be a peaceful retreat, but now it's crawling with whiney influencers who spend their time staring at their phones and ignoring our service. All of them are rude and obnoxious to the staff, but I have a new plan for every entitled brat I find.

"Hey you!" a snide call comes my direction.

He's lean, muscular, and emerging from the tropical shrubbery of the hotel's expansive gardens. The guy is clearly a fitness YouTuber, and he's just returned from a sweaty jog. His body seems to be the only thing on his mind, because he flaunts it in front of me without even glancing in my direction.

"Grab me a towel," he insists and brushes past, "This place is humid as hell."

A bored look sits on his face as he begins routinely stretching the toned legs inside those tiny shorts. The guy actually scoffs and looks offended when he realizes I haven't raced off to fetch his towel. It's the first time he's actually looking in my direction, and I can practically feel the sense of entitlement dripping off of him.

"Dude, I want a towel. The air on your island is wet and gross," he slowly repeats, like I must be an idiot who can't understand.

"Shut up about the humidity, Carlos!" my anger gets the best of me, but I finally put my diabolical plan in place.

"Who the hell is Carlos?"

For the first time, the influencer's smug face flashes to one of confusion. He doesn't believe someone like me would talk to him like this, let alone call him the wrong name.

"Carlos is the new gardner," I explain in a spiteful voice, "He's hard-working, he's humble, and he isn't bothered by the wet muggy air one bit!"

The athletic social media star looks completely taken aback now. He's retreated from my barrage of words, but there's no escaping the transformation he's already undergoing.

His revealing shorts rapidly unfold into a more coarse material that extends over his shoulders, forming a baggy pair of working overalls. Our hotel staff polo pops up beneath the straps of his workwear and leather gloves appear on his hands.

"How...?" he quietly gasps, "What am I wearing?"

"Carlos isn't very smart, but he makes up for it by shutting up and working hard. Don't you, Carlos?" I continue, "You spend all day in this disgustingly humid air, trimming bushes, pulling weeds, and manicuring the shit out of this garden. It's the only thing you're really good for. Isn't that right, Carlos?"

"Yeah," the former jock answers numbly.

A name tag appears over his chest, sealing his identity as Carlos the gardner. His face ages and takes on the character of a Hispanic local. His once youthfully lean body expands outward, filling his new uniform with a layer of fatherly pudge. This guy looks like he's spent his entire life working on this island. I know he'll spend the rest of it here too.

"Get back to work, Carlos, and don't let me catch you taking a break again," I say.

"Yes, Señor," he answers humbly, turning to a wheelbarrow full of mulch right beside him.

I watch sweat glisten on Carlos' forehead as he dumps the wood chips and rakes them around the plants. I note the damp air already permeating his heavy uniform before leaving and stepping inside the hotel lobby.

The interior of my family's hotel is quite grand and luxurious, but it's Mediterranean architecture creates an atmosphere of culture and class. Unfortunately, not many of my younger guests have the same culture and class. Approaching the front desk, I find a handsome young man in a vehement debate with the concierge. Apparently, his room was not up to his standards.

"Do you know who I am?" he asks tersely.

"I have 300k followers on TickTock! Everyone sees my travel vlog, so don't piss me off," he demands loudly.

My employee working the front desk looks overwhelmed and exhausted. Guests should never verbally assault my staff. This guy needs to learn how to behave at my hotel.

"So you're the famous influencer!" I jump to the defense before voices are raised any further, "We of course prepared a premier experience for you and your followers."

The entitled TickTocker's eyes roll but he seems relieved that somebody is finally treating him as he believes he deserves. I send a comforting wink to the concierge before gracefully escorting the rude guest away from the front.

"About time," he clicks his tongue, "That bellboy could barely speak English. You'd think a supposed luxury resort would be a bit more accommodating."

"I'm so sorry for the inconvenience, sir. How may we be of service to you?"

"Well to start, my room faces the forest. I booked one with a view of the ocean," he explains, missing my blatant sarcasm.

I'm done playing around.

"Come on, Jose. You don't care about looking out windows," I correct him, "Just cleaning them."

The young man stares back at me like he's just been insulted. He can't believe I have the audacity to call him by the wrong name.

"I'm not Jose," he snaps.

"Sure you are," I go on, "You're the Jose I've always known. The Jose that keeps his head down and gets his work done. The Jose that is quiet and respectful with the guests."

"That's not me," he growls, frustratedly denying it.

"I know there's a bit of a language barrier, Jose, but come on. Just look at yourself!"

The influencer narrows his eyes before nervously glancing down. As he does, his crisp white shirt fades to an old blue color. The buttons latch themselves all the way up to the base of his neck as the shirt tail stitches itself seamlessly with his pants of a now identically worn material.

"What I have on!" he gasps with an awkward inflection.

"Jose, it's your uniform," I laugh, "You're the hotel janitor! You wear coveralls, buddy."

"Estoy el janitor?" he questions with a heavy new accent, but his mind is already accepting the new role.

His eyes glazed over as he pulls out a pair of rubber gloves from his back pocket. He slips them on like it's second nature, and a uniform cap appears on his head of dark hair. The final touch of a name tag reading 'Jose' slides over the breast of his coveralls, cementing the reality of his new life.

"Jose," I say slowly.

"Sí, jefe?" he seems to snap out of an idle daze.

"You know your not supposed to loiter in the lobby unless you are cleaning."

"Lo siento, señor."

Jose fishes a rag and spray bottle out of his pocket to act busy wiping down different surfaces in the lobby. He keeps casting nervous glances in my direction as I supervise his work.

"Jose."

"Sí," he returns to my side like an eager puppy.

"The staff bathroom has a clog in it. Take care of that and the rest of the staff area. You can clean the lobby tonight when guests aren't here," I instruct.

"Por supuesto, jefe," he nods and shuffles through a staff-only door to the rear of the building.

Thank God I took that pretentious jerk down a peg. Thanks to me, the hotel has one less raving social media nut and one more quietly dedicated janitor. He'll certainly help clean up after all the other careless youths who make a mess everywhere they go.

Patting myself on the back for a job well done, I leave the lobby and head deeper into the building and towards the kitchens.

"Excuse me?" a wandering voice calls from down a hall.

An exasperated sigh blows out of my nostrils. Am I really about to deal with another entitled young man again?

"You shouldn't be down here, sir," I explain impatiently, "This is a staff-only area."

"Oh, I know," he throws his hands up in mock surrender, "My family owns a hotel back home, so I just like to check out the behind-the-scenes when I travel different places."

"Well, then you know hotel staff could use less distractions in their work space," I retort.

The young man doesn't seem to understand my frustration. He throws his hands in his pockets and slumps his shoulders.

"I just like to see how the employers of hotels treat their employees," he defends himself, "Especially in a place like this."

"What do you mean a place like this?"

"You know," he continues, "Foreign countries don't have all the protections for the working class that America has. I wouldn't be surprised if this hotel took advantage of the natives."

"You think I take advantage of the people from this island?" I shake my head in utter disbelief.

"Well, maybe," he goes on, "I write a blog about-"

"Let me stop you there," I cut him off, "You know I don't take advantage of the locals because you are one, Pedro."

"I'm not Pedro. Does he work here?" he raises an eyebrow.

"Yup. Pedro started working down here about four years ago. He was so excited to get a decently paying job," I explain, "He reminds me of yourself, only he keeps his hair neat and trim, the way a good employee should."

The young man seems interested in my story but doesn't seem to realize it's about him. His oversized Hawaiian shirt slowly tightens into a fitted jumpsuit while thin gloves glide over his hands. Meanwhile, his wildly long hair shrinks into a head of neatly cropped black curls.

"Pedro doesn't leave the basement too often, but he doesn't mind because he is so excited to finally have a consistent source of income. His bedroom is right around that corner, actually."

"Really," the guy asks dreamily, completely unaware of the uniform cap that's dropped over his new haircut.

"You're Pedro."

"I'm Pedro," he agrees without resistance, and a name tag materializes over his yellow coveralls, finalizing his transformation.

"Pedro," I say, "I know it's nice to catch up, buddy, but don't you have a lot of work to do?"

Pedro glances down the hall towards the laundry room. "Your right, sir," he responds with a new accent.

"A lot of guests arrived today, and I heard quite a few of them put in requests for clothes to be laundered and pressed."

"I'm on it, sir," he assures me.

My newest employee races to find an empty laundry hamper and starts rolling it down the hallway. The idiot is rolling the laundry bin towards the guest elevators in the front of the building.

"Come on, Pedro!" I call.

"Yeah, sir?"

"Son, use the service elevator in the back," I remind him, "The front ones are for guests. You know that."

"Right! Sorry, sir," he shakes his head and turns around, lugging the hamper in the opposite direction.

Pedro climbs on the old elevator and hits the button. Rusted machinery groans to life, pulling the laundry boy and his hamper slowly up to the top floor.

I take a seat and rest in the service corridor. It's been a long day of transforming insufferable influencers into good employees. Their absence will no doubt improve the atmosphere of my hotel greatly, but I may need to consider expanding the business if I keep taking on so many new workers...

[quiet-place-for-thoughts]

!Their younger sibling!

Summary: You refuse to listen to your brothers and continue to sneak out and see the first years, your first friends outside of Azul for years. They are more than happy to have you back around.

Remember this is YANDERE writing so their will be themes that fit such a topic with in this small series(Ortho and the tweel siblings will always be platonic!!)

A/n: part 1 and part 2. So sorry for such a long absence!! I have finally gotten out of therapy and I'm doing far better so I can now come back to writing!! Let's gooo!! :D

My brothers were still being very...Persistent about the sneaking out and about. Either Floyd or Jade were with me constantly no matter if Azul was around. They acted like the moment I was alone all hell would break loose and that I'd die, but today I finally saw an opening. A chance to break free from these restrictions my brothers have forced upon me and I grabbed it. The moment I realize I'm finally alone I snuck out. It was hard, from avoiding Azul who was telling off an employee and Jade who stood there too, most likely threatening them, Floyd seemed to have ran off due to most likely boredom.

I finally got out Monstro lounge and bolted away, the moment I were out of sight from the lounge, I grabbed my phone out, a bit shakily as I kept looking back to see if I had been caught. I need to keep my eyes peeled for Floyd incase he was roaming about outside if Octavillene. Clicking on Yuu's profile I send him a text.

Smiling to myself I take the chance and start heading to the Bonitcal garden, while making sure I also don't run into anyone that would cause issues for me.

Eventually I spot the first years and call out to them "Hey guys!! " Which causes almost all of them to turn around and they seemed rather happy to see me. Ace and deuce took a running start and hugged me. "Hey!! Where have you been??" Ace was almost shaking me as Deuce also shook me a bit, "Ever since your brothers called dyou back we haven't seen you!! " I tried tapping their arms to signal to stop the shaking but they only did when Jack intervened, "Let's not shake the soul outta them okay? " I smile at Jack as he looks away with a red dust coating his cheeks, "YOU MUST EXPLAIN YOURSELF YOU! " I start to explain myself to them all.

Silence was all that was there after I explained my brothers habits. "Well that's just wrong of them to do that" Epel's voice carried out in the dead quiet of the garden as I nodded. I could definitely see why it's wrong.. Maybe my brothers are wrong about keeping me away from anyone else? Yuu also chimmed in "They can't ban you from seeing us! I get people at NRC aren't the nicest but we aren't like the others here." The first years all nodded in agreement as I slowly nodded too. They were right! My brothers shouldn't stop me from making friends and isolate me!

I spent the day hanging out with the first years. Jack had silently taken my phone so I couldn't leave them due to my brothers or Azul's texts, all the first years agreed that would be the best course of action to keep my attention on them and not anyone else, not now that they finally had my attention again. I didn't notice how the first years kept me away from the other student either, nor did I realise how they were using Ortho's tech to avoid Floyd or Jade who were searching for me.

We were all sitting at ramshackle, enjoying ourselves. Time passing faster than ever as my body had sunk into the coach aling with Sebeka who was besides me and I was leaning on, jack on my other side who was red and stuff in his body, ace and deuce who had take the floor in front of me along with epel, yuu and ortho. It was nice to have friends to be around for once instead of my brothers. I wondered why I couldn't enter certain rooms but shrugged it off, never thinking deeper about the smell that was seeping out of the cracks nor the small blood that was caught ok the wall besides it. I never noticed such small things, I suppose being looked after all your life lessens those survival instincts eel folks usual have...

[becausesomething]

Maybe in another Life - ZoSan OneShot

just a smut and touchy oneshot after getting into the zosan zone and got obsessed! 🚬x🗡

-Wake up, mosshead!

Zoro just opens one eye and yawns.

-You're the only one awake and I could use some help cleaning up the mess that Luffy and the others left in the kitchen.

-tsc, I'm woken up to play maid?!

Sanji lights a cigarette to ease his irritation and having to swallow his pride to ask for help. But also suppressing emotions he struggled to ignore.

-There is a bottle of sake from the special stock waiting for you.

Zoro gets up, grabs his swords and heads to the kitchen, without thinking or looking twice at Sanji.

As usual, they divided the tasks naturally and helped each other. Zoro had finished tidying up the dishes and sits at the table, while Sanji finished cleaning the counters.

-More sake Ero-Cook !

-I'm not your employee, marimo, go get it yourself!

Zoro snorts, but gets up and goes to the cupboard to get another bottle. As he turned to go back to the table, Sanji, who was passing by, bumped into him. Their faces are very close and the tension they both feel is noticeable.

-Are you blushing for me, nosebleed boy?

-Shitty swordsman, be aware of personal space!

Zoro, in the heat of the moment, grabs him by the waist and leans him against the closet, supporting himself with one hand.

-Those lips...

-What do you think you're doing, idiot?

Zoro continues to look at him intensely, without letting him break his gaze. In that moment of tension, Sanji loses his temper and begins the kiss that would change his routine. As he had imagined, Zoro's lips, despite being rough, were delicious to feel, especially with that sake flavor. For Zoro, that kiss was necessary, he needed to have those thin, soft lips against his. What was supposed to be just a kiss ended up in both of them prolonging that moment so desired and repressed. Zoro lets go of his waist and moves away from him, picking up the bottle he had placed on the counter and sitting back down at the table.

-Will you accompany me, er-Cook?

Sanji, still glued to the closet, takes a few seconds to assimilate what had just happened. He puts his fingers to his lips, lets out a smile and prepares to light a cigarette as he walks to the table.

That spring night, when they had left Arabasta, emotions finally spoke louder than shame. Words that were never said, because actions spoke louder. During the day they continued their constant rivalry, but when night came and the rest of the gang went to rest, they both allowed themselves to let their guard down and enjoy each other's company.

(...)

Sanji wakes up and doesn't see Zoro anywhere, his heart pounds with fear. He goes looking for it and that's when he finds it. Standing, with torn clothes, covered in blood, and a lifeless look. "Nothing happened", those words cut deeper than knives or glass. That vision of the person he was beginning to love caused a pain he couldn't understand, but he didn't want to feel it again.

(...)

-Dumb browns, I missed you in bed.

Zoro finds him standing on the deck looking at the sea that night when the moon was not shining.

-You're an idiot, an idiot swordsman.

Zoro tries to grab him to steal the kiss, but is stopped by a kick from Sanji that almost hits him, if he weren't faster even though he was injured.

-tsc, what's wrong with you?

-You. The way you took that pain and are here  you are looking for me, as if you weren't all hurt.

-I only did it to save you, to save us all!

Zoro, taking advantage of being more muscular, grabs Sanji by the arm and in the movement of pulling him towards him, steals a kiss from him. A kiss that for Zoro was a drug to calm the physical pain. A kiss that for Sanji was bittersweet, because it was also a drug that he couldn't get enough of. When the lips come apart, their eyes meet, but soon Sanji looks away again to the sea and lets go of Zoro.

-Zoro-kun

The only sounds that could be heard were the waves hitting the ship and their hearts beating hard.

-I don't think I'm able to continue this...

Sanji lights a cigarette and expels the smoke, avoiding Zoro's surprised look.

-The pain of thinking that I had lost you when I woke up, the anguish of having found you in that state, the weight of knowing that you are too much for me.-I knew you were an idiot, but not as much as a weak-ass cook.

(...)

After Sanji finds Zoro in Sabaody, his heart doesn't fit in his chest. It had been two long years of living a miserable life and the thought that helped him overcome that hell was that his idiot mooshead was still alive, so there was still hope in trying to remedy the terrible mistake he had made. He just didn't expect to find a completely different man in front of him.

-I thought a lot, all this time... I still have feelings for you. No, I mean, what I felt never went away, no matter how much I tried to deny it or bury it. When I look at you... I still feel butterflies. I can't describe how happy you make me.

Sanji closes his eyes, feeling emotional as he remembers all the moments they both spent together. Zoro crosses his arms and looks him in the eyes.

-Listen Cook, ... Sanji ... After you rejected me ... more than two years ago ... I got over how I felt about you.

Sanji exhales deeply, in an attempt not to be crushed by those words that hurt like knives.

-Sorry - says Zoro, placing his hand on Wado.

-Damn, maybe in another life - says Sanji, lighting a cigarette and looking passionately into Marimo's eyes one last time before facing the rest of the gang.

-Maybe... Ero-Cook - says Zoro who is already ahead, hiding his expression.

english is not my first language, even thought I use it more than my native tongue. I try my best to adapt it 🫣

[lovingseventeen]

Hello! I've been stalking your blog and I can't explain how much I love your writings, they made my day 🥺 Anyway, if it's okay, can you do svt as your co-worker (could be just platonic/romantic/both, whatever you prefer). Thank you in advance! ✨️

svt as your coworker

a/n: AAAA so sorry to get back to you so late 😭 i hope you still get to read this and enjoy it,, i tried to write this as platonic with the hint of something more?

seungcheol:

○ quite the good employee

○ in his nature to lead group meetings and be pretty proactive in delegating roles that are suitable for everyone

○ always checks in with you that you’re okay with your work load and offers to help too

○ is it relevant that he looks very good with the sleeves of his button-up rolled up?

jeonghan:

○ master of wasting the company time and he somehow drags you into it

○ definitely plays some kind of little game with you every day

○ you both have used up several packs of post-its due to endless rounds of hangman, tic-tac-toe, etc

○ he loves to bet little prizes like “okay so over whoever loses has to buy lunch tomorrow”

○ he loves to waste time but is also somehow occasionally employee of the month???

joshua:

○ definitely the office hunk

○ half the company has a crush on him (how could you blame anyone, look at him)

○ definitely the kind of gentleman to grab coffee for himself but also bring back some extra drinks for those who sit near him too

○ when you try to pay him back he just smiles and brushes off your offer “you don’t need to do that” with the sweetest smile ever

jun:

○ always falls asleep at his desk but also never gets caught

○ is either very productive or doing nothing at all, no in between

○ you have to nudge him awake when you hear that the ceo is walking around the office and you swear your heart skips a beat when he looks at you in his sleepy state

hoshi:

○ one of the company’s long-time employees

○ a funny guy but also super reliable and hardworking so most people tend to look for him for help

○ you call him over to review something on your laptop and he’s leaning on your desk with one arm

○ when you talk to him he watches you intently and you’re wondering why your face suddenly feels hot?

wonwoo:

○ he’s quiet and always finishes his duties efficiently

○ the kind to send one-sentence emails (idk why i thought this seemed very him)

○ he sits across from you and when your eyes meet over your desktops you quickly turn back to your screen (you don’t realize he’s chuckling)

woozi:

○ employee of the month honestly

○ one of the people in the company who moved up the ranks pretty fast and at a pretty young age (he’s younger than most of the people with the same position)

○ he overhears your music playing through your headphones in the elevator one day (some of you will get this reference i hope)

○ “is that [insert obscure band]?” he’ll ask. you lift one side of your headphones to hear him and you nod happily when you realize his question. (from then on he has a little crush on you and he tries to start conversations in the future by asking if you’ve heard about that band’s new release!)

minghao:

○ you were a little intimidated by him at first

○ there’s no other way to describe it other than he looks so effortlessly cool, with his subtle piercings and painted nails amidst his business attire

○ you realize he’s warmer than you think when you work up the courage to compliment his nails

mingyu:

○ he’s employee of the month #2, also a very diligent guy

○ honestly a joyous person to share a desk with

○ “good morning ~~” he’ll say as he settles in for the day

○ from the second he gives you that wolffish grin you know this is gonna be a problem

dokyeom:

○ the kind of sweetheart to stay with you during your overtime so that you aren’t the only person left in the office

○ “you don’t need to stay!” you try to tell him, feeling a little bad you’re stopping someone from going home. he even has his bag all packed up

○ “y/n trust me, it’s a little scary when no one else is here” he assures you, “i stayed here one time and something dropped in one of the cubicles and it freaked me out” (he left out the part that he bolted out of the office when he heard that)

○ you think about it for a bit, opting to just hurry a little bit with your tasks. “okay fine, i’ll try not to take too long”

○ while you work, he even goes so far as to go to one of the vending machines down the hall to get you both a snack

○ bonus: on your way out you playfully go “did you hear that?” and his eyes widen immediately, “hear WHAT?”

seungkwan:

○ would be employee of the month if he didn’t get into arguments with coworkers here and there 😭

○ not a rude employee by any means but he’s just passionate about doing well

○ it is so nice when you get paired to work with him because he motivates you to do so well too

○ the longer you work with him, you do get to see more relaxed sides of him and he even hums a little while he works (soon you discover he’s incredible at singing)

vernon:

○ also doesn’t talk too much, not exactly because he’s busy but he also tends to sit idly sometimes, rotating on his chair to pass time LOL

○ he’s great to work with though, he’s so chill and open-minded that he’ll let you take the lead but also input his ideas when he feels necessary

○ you start talking to him when you come in on a monday, a little excited, “did you see the movie that everyone’s talking about?” you ask

○ his eyebrows raise and he sits up in his chair because he has in fact seen that movie

○ thus ensues emails about work but also with a movie recommendation in the final line

chan:

○ was the baby of the office when he was just an intern but he’s a hard-worker so he eventually got hired full-time

○ you catch him kind of dancing while he’s trying to pick out a vending machine snack

○ gets so embarrassed (he may have a crush on you) that he doesn’t talk to you for a good week 😭

[mimisempai]

I wasn't expecting you 3/5

Chapter Summary - Welcome, Crowley

Crowley spends his first evening at the pub with the other shopkeepers on Whickber Street, and thanks to the meddling of some of them, gets to know the bookseller better.

Notes

I'm back from my holidays and ready to continue the story of the barista and the book seller. 

As you can see, I've added one chapter to the total, because the last chapter needed to be cut.

On Ao3

Rating G -  1872 words

Chap 1 - Chap 2 - Chap 3 - Chap 4 - Chap 5

Crowley took a deep breath and opened the door of the Dirty Donkey. He wasn't the shy type, but experience had taught him to be cautious, and it had been a long time since he had sought the company of others who had often disappointed him.

However, this was the first time in a long time that he'd been welcomed into a group without having to make an effort to be friendly, so he decided to give it a try.

Not to mention a bookseller who had more than piqued his interest.

When the barista entered the crowded pub, he immediately looked around for Nina or any other member of the group that was supposed to be there, and of course the first thing he noticed was the tuft of tousled pale hair.

Then his eyes were drawn to Nina waving at him, and he saw that everyone was already there. Noticing that they all had a drink in front of them, Crowley stopped at the bar to order a glass of Talisker and, glass in hand, made his way to the table.

As he approached the group, Maggie pushed herself aside to give him a seat between Aziraphale and herself. 

She pulled out a chair and patted it, saying, "Crowley, come and sit here!"

Crowley put his glass on the table and said gently, "Thanks, but you didn't have to bother."

Mrs. Sandwich, or rather Rosie as she had almost ordered him to call her, chuckled before replying, "Don't worry about it, darling. The two lovebirds are just happy to be closer."

As he sat down, he saw that Maggie and Nina did indeed look happy to be closer as they intertwined their hands. Then his eyes went around the table and he said to the group, "Hello everyone."

A concert of greetings and welcoming words answered him, making him feel more and more at ease, despite the fact that a week ago he didn't even know anyone.

When the general chatter died down, Nina raised her glass and said in a loud voice, "I'd like to propose a toast to Crowley. You know how much of a pain in the ass I can be..." she paused as there was some snickering around the table, then continued, "Yes, yes, I do, and yet Crowley rose to the challenge with flying colors, so that deserves a first round, it's on me!"

Everyone offered their own little comment, from light-hearted digs at Nina's temper to praise for his new employee's patience. Crowley listened and watched, smiling and sipping his drink, nodding from time to time.

Suddenly, Aziraphale's hand resting on his arm snapped him out of his thoughts as the bookseller leaned over and said kindly in a low voice, "They can be a little overwhelming sometimes, but they're all very nice. And I can see they appreciate you already."

Crowley nodded and replied in the same tone, "It's been a long time since I've been among such open and... welcoming people, it's a little strange..."

Aziraphale asked gently as he removed his hand from Crowley's arm, "We're all a bit special here in a way, but do you mean strange in a good way or a bad way?"

Crowley smiled sweetly and replied, "Good. I think I could get used to it."

Aziraphale clinked his glass against his and said softly, only for Crowley's ears, "I hope so. Welcome here."

Again, something passed between them, indefinable but very much there, as Crowley replied almost in a whisper, "Thank you."

Without breaking eye contact, each took a sip from his glass and smiled.

However, the moment of grace was short-lived when they were interrupted by Aziraphale's other table neighbor, Mr. Brown, who moved closer to Aziraphale and said in a loud voice for the entire table to hear, "I couldn't help but overhear part of your conversation and I couldn't agree with you more, Aziraphale, we're all a little bit special, here. But I have to say, Crowley, you are really special. I mean, that hair and especially those eyes. It's not natural, really, and-"

Aziraphale interrupted, exclaiming, "I think it's pretty!"

Crowley couldn't hold back a small gasp, which made Aziraphale realize what he'd just said. The bookseller coughed and stood up, saying, "I see everyone's glasses are empty, so the next round's on me, since my return seems to be one of the reasons for this little party. I'll order from the bar."

Before Crowley could respond, the carpet seller stood and added, "I'll help him."

Crowley watched them walk away, a little, a lot if he was honest, annoyed by Mr. Brown's kind of possessive behavior.

Then, as his gaze shifted to Aziraphale, he thought again of the bookseller's words.

"I think it's pretty!"

He'd heard a lot of things said about his distinctive amber eyes: strange, weird, freaky, fake. But to hear them described as pretty with such warmth in the voice, never.

"Awww, Crowley, your cheeks are as red as your hair!"

He couldn't help but touch his cheeks as he turned to Nina, who had just spoken when Rosie gave a thumbs up and said, "Go for it!"

Crowley muttered, "Go for it! Go for it! Looks like the other redhead here is already in the place."

Maggie, who was closest to him, heard him and said softly, "Oh, no, don't think so. You have no reason to be jealous. I'm the one who's known Aziraphale the longest, and he's never looked at anyone the way he looks at you."

Nina, Justine, Rosie, and even Mr. Arnold, the music store owner who didn't talk much, nodded in support of Maggie's words as Aziraphale and the carpet seller returned with the drinks. 

What he didn't see were the winks they all shared.

Just as Aziraphale and Mr. Brown were about to sit down, Rosie stood up and said to the rug seller, "Let's change seats, I need to talk to your neighbor and it's not easy with someone between us, sorry Justine."

Justine, who was sitting between Mr. Arnold and Rosie, shook her head and replied, "That's good, because I wanted to talk to Arthur about new carpets for the restaurant."

Crowley met Nina's gaze as she winked at him and couldn't suppress a small laugh that went unnoticed as everyone took their seats. In the space of a week, he'd come to realize that Whickber Street was full of gossip and that everyone liked to meddle in each other's lives. He didn't usually like that, but he was beginning to realize that it was more about caring than meddling, and that was new, too. People who cared about him.

The atmosphere at the table calmed down a bit as Justine engaged the grumpy Mr. Brown in a discussion about a possible sale that brought a smile back to the seller's face, Rosie struck up a conversation with the placid Mr. Arnold, and Nina and Maggie were carrying on a discussion reserved for them alone, judging by the enamored looks the two women exchanged.

Crowley took a sip of his drink and, alcohol helping, couldn't help but ask the bookseller, "Do you really think it's pretty?"

Aziraphale's gaze was incredibly gentle as he replied, "I rarely say things I don't mean. I mean, yellow is my favorite color, my car is yellow, a lot of things in my shop have that warm hue, so of course I think your eyes are pretty."

Other than a throaty thank you, Crowley found nothing to say in response to Aziraphale's disarming honesty.

After a few seconds of silence, the other man asked, "So tell me, what made you want to answer Nina's ad?"

Encouraged by the bookseller's openness, Crowley had no desire to go down the road of pretense and half-truths, and replied with equal honesty, "I have no family or ties, and I've never stayed in one place long enough to form a bond. With my looks, people don't trust me easily, and-"

Aziraphale, listening to Crowley with his chin resting on his hand, interrupted, "You could have changed your look."

Crowley, sensing no judgment in the other man's voice or expression, shook his head and said, "And not be me anymore? Impossible."

Aziraphale, obviously approving of Crowley's answer, nodded and the barista continued, "After another professional disappointment, the chance of my path brought me here, and Nina's ad came at just the right time, as I was looking to settle down for something more permanent, something that would last. And icing on the cake, I seem to be accepted for who I am here."

Aziraphale replied quietly, "I'm delighted you've decided to put your bags down here, and if I may add, there's nothing to accept, you're fine as you are. At least for me."

Crowley replied, "Thank you. If I may say so, you're very direct."

"In my family, it was better not to say what was on your mind, and now that I'm free of that, I don't want to waste any more time on hypocrisy and pretense."

Crowley replied with a broad smile, "I like that."

In their own world, the two men continued to chat, oblivious to the knowing, affectionate glances of the conspirators around the table. There was another round of drinks, this time courtesy of Crowley, and the evening was well underway when they decided to leave the Dirty Donkey.

A few more pleasantries were exchanged and then everyone headed home. Aziraphale and Crowley watched in amusement as Nina and Maggie carried a drunken Mr. Brown home, and Justine waved to them before walking away, following in Mr. Arnold's footsteps.

Crowley turned to the bookseller and they looked at each other for a few moments in silence.

"So this is love, lalala lalala... So this is what makes life divine..."

They turned to Rosie, who had just hummed past them, and she turned back, waving her hand.

"Good night, boys."

Crowley chuckled softly, "They're not very subtle."

Aziraphale replied with a chuckle, "No, but I can't blame them, can you?"

Crowley looked intently at Aziraphale in silence before replying in a clear voice, "No. Not at all."

Aziraphale held out his hand and said gently, "Well, good night, Crowley, and see you tomorrow."

Crowley took the bookseller's hand and asked, confused, "Tomorrow?"

Aziraphale's smile turned mischievous as he replied, "Well, yes, for my pastry."

"Oh, you come to Nina's every day?"

Aziraphale shook his head.

"No, but I have a reason to now. Good night, Crowley."

Crowley, once again surprised by the bookseller's straightforward attitude, replied, "Good night, Aziraphale. See you tomorrow."

Aziraphale nodded, then walked away toward the bookshop.

Crowley followed him with his eyes for a while before heading for the coffee shop. When he reached the door, he put the key in the lock and couldn't help but look back at the bookshop one last time, only to see to his surprise that the bookseller had done the same.

Crowley waved one last time before entering his building, this time without looking back. 

For the first time in a long time, he felt hope blossom within him, and he didn't stop himself from relishing it. 

Tomorrow couldn't come soon enough.

_________

Still not beta'd

Still not my native language

Still hoping you'll enjoy this story  🥰

Still thanking you for bearing with me 😝

Ineffable Husbands masterlist : here