#i’m going to miss my coworkers but ya girl need some new money

[journeyxo]

WELP…I quit my job today 😂. Now I can smoke all day & put my full focus on this damn game 😭

[poptod]

Pretty, Little Doll (Merriel Shelton x Reader)

Description: Merriel makes friends with the pretty little doll serving ice cream.

Notes: jus thinking about ice cream. implied female reader, but this.. is too much. theres just too much here. youve been warned. edit: wait no u havent. the warning is that theres suggestive themes and such WC: 2.3k

+

After working long hours in the broiling sun of the south, what felt best down his parched throat was a beer––a bar where many of his friends and coworkers drank at, and the waitresses wore low-cut dresses with short hems and long stockings. That sight went down wonderfully with several drinks, but what drew his attention today was a newly opened shop.

There was no sign, but the large, pristine windows gave a good view of the inside. Clean, white walls with several tables and chairs to the left, and a counter to order at on the right. Behind it stood you, dressed to the nines in ruffles and bows as you opened up the shop, displaying buckets of ice cream.

Merriel grinned. Lopsided and toothy, and he jogged inside, sweat and dirt still trailing down his skin and clothes. With his shirt slung over his bare shoulder, he met your eye and his cocky smile returned as his chin tilted high.

"Afternoon," he drawled as he approached the counter, barely grazing over the different flavors before returning to you.

"Good afternoon," you said in a much quieter voice, though you did mimic his smile, just more politely. "How may I help you?"

"You new here?" He asked, gesturing generally to the shop.

"Oh, yes," you said. "My grandmother always wanted an ice cream parlor, so.. I thought I could help her."

"That's awful sweet of ya," he said as he leant on the counter, tilting ever closer to you. "This ice cream sweet as you, boo?"

Your mouth fell open, eyes widening as you did a double take. For a moment you were at a loss for words, but you quickly attempted to stammer out a response, a blush burning your face.

"Well, um, we have, uh, strawberry, and um.. chocolate, vanilla, cherry, and uh, banana. And bourbon."

"Bourbon?" He said, a single brow kinked upwards.

"It's my grandma's favorite," you said with a sheepish chuckle.

"Damn, girl. Grandma knows how to have fun," he laughed.

"Would you like to try it?"

Only if I can lick it off you, he thought, his attention drifting to the soft skin of your neck. The thought of it melting down and pooling in your clavicle. While usually he didn't bother to censor himself for anyone, you seemed a little fainthearted. His chances with you would probably be ruined after one too-strange comment.

"Sure," was what he said instead. "Long as it's cold I don't care."

"I understand that. I moved here recently and it's certainly something to try and adapt to the heat," you rambled as you stuck a tiny plastic spoon in the bourbon ice cream, giving him the single bite. "Are you a local?"

"Been here long's I remember," he said, taking the spoon. "What time do ya get off today?"

"Oh, um," you fixed the ruffles on your collar, "I won't be finished till late. We're not all set up yet."

"If y' need some help, I'd be happy to offer my expertise. I do a hell of a lot a' nailin' things ta the wall."

You stared at him again, once more losing your words. He hadn't quite meant what he said, but the fluster he left you in had him grinning, humored by the connotation you'd incorrectly understood.

"That – that'd be very nice of you," you said, wringing your hands. "I don't want to bother you. You look.. busy."

He didn't miss how your eyes raked up his body, from his wrinkled, dusty pants up his bare waist and chest still gleaming with the sweat of morning work. His jaw could cut hearts and he knew that very well; accented it whenever he could as he cocked his chin upwards, watching carefully as your breath froze.

"I won't be busy tonight. How 'bout this." He walked up right to the counter, pressing his hips into the edge of it. "I come after I finish up ma' own job, and I'll give ya' a hand. Don't even gotta pay me."

"Really? But –"

"Don't worry 'bout it. 'S nothin' for a pretty doll like you."

"At least let me get you a cone? It's hot out today," you offered, reaching for the largest waffle cones you had.

The guys wouldn't really take well to him eating ice cream instead of drinking, but he figured they'd eat their words when they saw you.

"Won't say no to that."

As much as he wanted to boast about you, how pretty and sweet you were and how he so easily slid his way into your life, he didn't want his friends finding your shop and vandalizing it with their own dirty boots and flirtatious looks. Only he could do that.

In the evening he returned as promised, having walked from his house on the outskirts of town to your shop on the main street. The build, decorum, and location of the shop screamed rich family to him. No one in his state would be able to afford a business on main street, much less fully renovated and repainted. He could ask you, he decided, about your family, your grandmother, and of course you.

Inside, you were closing up the tubs of ice cream, hauling them out of the display case and into a back storage room. He knocked before he entered, earning a muffled 'come in!' from you.

Before either of you could speak, both the buckets in your arms began to slip, and he ran round to the other side of the counter to help. He took one from you to ease the load.

"Careful, cher," he said, grabbing another bucket in his other arm. "Don't wanna break yaself."

"Thank you," you said, mostly ignoring his comment. "My grandma is in the other room, so just, um.. be polite and proper."

Fat fuckin' chance, he thought in his head, but fortunately did not say aloud as he followed you.

The door swung open into a freezer room, where an old lady stood in the corner, covered head to toe in coats as she stirred.

"I keep telling you to let me do that," you sighed, setting down your container before rushing to her side.

"I can do it quite well myself. I'm not useless, you know," your grandmother said, staring you down with a glare. You hesitated, gauging her carefully, before you relented with another exasperated sigh.

"Fine, alright," you said quietly. "I'll go work on hanging up all the paintings and such."

"Thank you, dear."

You motioned to him as you passed by, pushing open the door and heading out of the freezer. He once again followed you, watching your ass with a grin you never saw.

"We need to hang up these," you said as you brought him to one of the circular tables, each of which carried a small pile of paintings, license plates, or tin posters.

"You got a ladder?" He asked, glancing to the high walls.

"Yes sir," you said, sorting through the different posters. He quirked a brow, intrigued by the possibility of that nickname.

"I neva did get ya name," he said as he leant on one of the tables.

"(Y/N). What's yours?"

"Pretty name for a pretty doll," he half sung, the same, one-sided smile stretched lazily across his face. "My name's Merriel."

"Also a pretty name," you said, picking the largest poster to start with. A pin-up girl in a sailor's suit. "Our ladder isn't all that steady. Will you hold it for me?"

He opened his mouth to offer himself up, but with one look to the ruffled skirt you wore, he shut himself up.

"'Course," was what he said instead.

Everything was a bit of a game––one you were unwittingly a part of, and one where you played your role rather well. A sweet, unassuming little thing, essentially a toy for him, accepting his help and letting him in. He hated to act the predator, but when it came to you he couldn't help it.

That was how he saw it. Hunting you down and taking you for his own at the end of a long chase. However, to any outsider, it appeared in a much simpler way; a young man doing anything for someone he'd developed a crush on. That was how it truly was, though the innocence of his crush was abruptly stripped away as he held the ladder, staring shamelessly up your skirt.

"Merriel?"

"Huh?" He said, broken out of his dreamy trance.

"I said could you hand me another nail," you said, pointing towards the package of nails with your hammer.

"Oh. You sure ya ain't gonna fall if I leave?" He asked with a grin. You chuckled, shaking your head.

"I'll be alright."

"If you say so, boo."

After a little while he supposed he ought to offer some more help than holding a rickety ladder, and took your place at the top with a hammer in his hand and nails in his mouth. As promised, his experience with nailing things to the wall (nails specifically, not women) made him much faster than you, and the entirety of the wall behind the counter was covered within fifty minutes.

"Thank you for your help, again," you said as you put away the hammer and nails.

"My pleasure," he said, the image of your thighs still fresh in his mind. "If y' ever need help.. I'm happy t' to be of service."

"Well, thank you. Come stop by again soon. On the house," you said as he left, peeking your head out the door and giggling.

"You know I'm stoppin' by again, get two things done in one trip. Some'in sweet for th' eyes and the tongue," he laughed, watching your face light up with a blush.

And it ain't just the ice cream, he thought.

Over the course of the coming summer, he left drinking for the evening, and instead visited your shop over his lunch break. You insisted on giving his cones for free considering he continued to help you out, but he usually found ways to sneak you the money anyway. You were not, as he assumed earlier, a very rich family.

His favorite activity, which he found rather early on, was to sit outside on burning hot days, his shirt draped over the back of his chair as he ate. Through the pristine glass, he spied you watching him often.

You couldn't help it either. Most of your life was spent in your family cabin, cutting you off from many teen and early adulthood experiences. People flirting with you was a lot to deal with, especially when it came from someone as pretty as him, the smooth dips and ripples of his lean muscles shining with sweat and dirt from his construction site.

His tongue. Ever since he made that comment on that first evening you met, you hadn't been able to get it out of your mind. How it rolled and drawled between his puffy lips drawn backwards with his teeth, in a very specific method you'd pinned down to 'the Tongue Thing'.

Your heated, embarrassed blush only worsened as ice cream dripped down his fingers from the heat, cleaned up by a sharp and precise tongue. You could hardly breathe watching him like that, but as he caught your eye you turned quickly away.

His bravado had clearly earned a huge boost from catching you mid-drool, prevalent in his step as he waltzed back into your store. You hardly met his eye, pretending to clean up the counter, but that didn't stop him. He walked right up to you, leaning down with his elbows on the stone, forcing you to stop and look at him, which you did with incredible reluctance.

"You been watchin' me, cher?" He asked, close enough to see his reflection in your wide eyes.

"No," you said quietly.

"A' think you're lyin'," he said, leaning in closer yet. "Betta' not do that. Could land you in some trouble."

You raised your brows.

"Are you threatening me?"

"Not with anythin' ya can't take," he said as he raked his eyes purposefully slow down your body. When you appeared to be at a loss for words, he said, "I'll ask ya again. Were you watching me?"

"... and if I don't answer?" You tested carefully.

"Well then, I think there's too much space between us," he said, grinning cockily as he jumped the counter, crowding you suddenly.

You drew in a sharp breath, backing up as he continued to step forwards till he pinned you to the wall with his hips.

"Tell the truth, baby." he drawled, carefully setting his hands on your hips and pulling you in. Something hard poked you.

"I – I wasn't staring, I –"

He half-grinded into you, pressing you tighter against the wall as his hands drew upwards, resting at your waist.

"Such a pretty thing," he mumbled beneath his breath, watching your stumbling reaction closely.

By pinning you with his hips, he had free roam to move his hands, one of which toyed with the hem of your skirt. It was wrong, certainly, and it was also illegal since you were in plain view of main street, but he lost control the minute his fingertips brushed the soft, supple skin of your thigh.

Your breathing hastened, hips yearning for something, though you didn't know what. When the rough skin of his fingers suddenly brushed inbetween your thighs your hands shot up to steady yourself on Merriel's shoulders. He laughed, running a finger through your lips, finding you already soaked and not wearing underwear. Instantly his laugh faded, devolving into a long, needy moan as his hips once more pushed up into you.

"Th – there's someone – someone coming," you said, eyes darting to the front door.

Immediately he was off you, stepping to the side as you straightened yourself out. You walked forward with shaky legs, which he most definitely noticed, and took the mother and son's orders as usual. When you finished you glanced to him, your heart stopping at the sight of him licking your slick from his fingers.

"I guess your ice cream is as sweet as you, boo," he murmured in your ear, giving you no chance to react before rushing back out to return to his construction job.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Thirty-One

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

You and Harry agreed he would move in after you got back from England. You spent most of the week helping him pack up some of the easier things he didn’t need every day. That way you wouldn’t have to do much when you got back.

You rummaged through your closet pulling out as many options for outfits you thought you’d need for your trip. You had one really big luggage bag you’d be able to get most of everything into. You decided to use your backpack as a carryon. You kept your travel toothbrush and a spare pair of clothes in there. Harry had a large luggage bag and a backpack as well.

“Think you have everything ya need? We gotta get up pretty early tomorrow.” He asks, sipping on his coffee Friday morning.

“Yup! Everything’ll be good to go. I’m leaving work around three today too. I’m hoping to go to bed early.”

“Same here. We’ll need to be up at like three in the morning, order the uber and all that. International security takes a little bit longer. Got your passport?”

“Yes, it’s on my dresser ready to go.”

“Perfect.” He kisses you on the cheek. You look down at your watch.

“Well, I better go to work. See you this afternoon.” You kiss him goodbye, and head out the door.

You were thankful it wasn’t snowing, and there were no storms in the forecast. Sarah and Rachel agreed to help take turns watching your place while you were gone, and you were so grateful for them. Niall was only working a half day today. He was taking a red eye to Ireland that night.

“Excited?” He asks, coming into your office.

“So excited! It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Won’t be weird celebrating Christmas?”

“Not at all! I’m excited to see what traditions his family has.”

“It’s quaint, quiet. Very cozy.”

“Nice change of pace from my family.”

Niall makes sure to hug you before he leaves. You wish each other safe flights. The clock moves agonizingly slow. You just want to get home to Harry. He was smart enough to just take all of Friday off. When it finally hit 2:50, you dipped out.

When you got home, Harry was making some lunch. You loved your little chef so much.

“Whatcha making?” You ask kissing him on the cheek.

“PB and J’s, sound good?”

“Sounds perfect, thank you.”

You both sit on the couch with your sandwiches, and watch a little TV.

“How was work?”

“So boring, half the office wasn’t there. Niall left at like noon, so the rest of the day just dragged on. Happy I’m home now.”

“Doesn’t your work usually have like a holiday party or somethin’?”

“Yeah, they usually do it at the end of January. It’s a lot of fun, they have it at this hotel with a big ballroom. Open bar too.”

“That’ll be fun.” He smiles. “I secretly love staying in hotels. Feels like a mini holiday.”

“We’re staying in a hotel when we go to London?”

“Actually, we’re staying at my flat.” You give him a confused look.

“You…have your own place in London?”

“I sublet it. I had done a lot work there a few years ago when I was traveling. I took the opportunity to make some money. I mostly use it on Air BnB. It’s nice to have the few times I go home. Since there are a few weeks I go home in the summer, it was just more cost effective to have my own place.”

“How do you run an Air BnB if you’re not there?”

“My sister lives in London too, so I give her a cut to help take care of things.”

“Oh nice! I’m really excited to meet her, and your mum.”

“They’re excited too.”

//

Your alarm goes off a little after two in the morning. You wipe away the sleep from your eyes, and take a really quick shower. You put on some leggings and a sweatshirt. Harry has a pair of sweats on as well, and a long sleeve shirt. You both wheel your luggage down, and he puts it into the uber. You hold his hand the entire way to the airport.

He prints both of your tickets, and sets your luggage up to be checked. He hands you your ticket, and your eyes pop out of your head.

“Harry?” You tug on his jacket.

“Yeah, love?”

“Why does this say first class? I only paid you for a commercial flight.”

“I always fly first class on these long flights. Trust me, it’s worth it.”

“But Harry…this is too expensive.”

“I had the miles babe, it’s not a big deal. C’mon, we need to go through security.”

You both get through security quickly, and head to your gate to wait. You wanted to be mad at him. You really didn’t like when he would pull these fast moves over you. When he puts his arm around you, and pulls you closer to him, you forget you’re upset. You’re too tired to even care at this point. You rest your head on his shoulder.

“What time will we get there?”

“Let’s see, if we actually take off at six? We’ll get there about eleven.”

“That’s good, we’ll still practically have the whole day.”

“Yup. I’m rentin’ a car for us too. That way we can scoot in and out when we like.”

“You think of everything, don’t you?” He chuckles.

Your flight is ready to board, and your jaw drops at the nice seats. You had never done something so extravagant.

“You want the window seat, love?” He asks, putting a carry on overhead.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. If I sit on the aisle, I can stretch my legs out easier.” You kiss him on the cheek and sit down.

You remember the dream you had a few weeks ago of being married and pregnant, traveling with Harry. Your mind wandered to how often you may end up taking this trip with him.

A stewardess comes around with hot towels and mimosas making you giggle. You buckle yourself in, and watch as Harry takes his glasses and a new book out. You take your headphones out, and plug them into the jack in the arm rest. He watches you scroll the countless movies and television shows available.

“Oh hell yeah.”

“What?”

“They have HBO on here, I can finally watch the second season of Big Little Lies.”

“You’re going to watch the whole season on this flight?”

“Probably, I am a pro at binging, or did you forget?” Harry giggles.

The flight attendants go through the safety procedures, and prepare for takeoff. You hold Harry’s hand as you take off. You switch your screen to see what music was available.

“Thought you were goin’ t’watch TV, love.”

“I will in a little while. I feel like I’m gonna drift off, and I don’t wanna miss anything. Think I’m just going to listen to music for a little while.” You smile. He takes your hand and kisses it.

“Here, I’ll grab you a blanket.” He moves to put his hand up to ask for one, but you stop him.

“Brought my own.” You reach for your backpack, and take out your baby blankets. You drape one over your legs, and keep the other bunched up at your stomach to hold onto.

“Never seen those before.”

“I keep them in a box under my bed for safe keeping. They’re not in the best shape, but I don’t like traveling long distance without them. They’re for comfort. I brought a small blanket for you too.” You pull out a fleece blanket and put it in his lap.

“Thanks. Had ‘em for a long time?”

“Yup, they’re my, um, baby blankets.” He smiles at you. “What?” Your cheeks heat up with embarrassment.

“Every time I think you couldn’t possibly get cuter, you go and do somethin’ like this.” He kisses your cheek. “Ya comfy, baby girl?” You smile.

“Very.”

You put your ear buds in and scroll through the music options. You settle on The Weeknd, and put it on shuffle. You take out your neck pillow, and get even more comfortable. You close your eyes and sigh quietly. Harry smirks at your music choice, unsure of how you could fall asleep to that kind of music, but he doesn’t question you on it.

He dives into his book, and slowly feels his eyes start to droop. Just as he feels like he’s going to fall asleep, a stewardess comes up to him.

“Sir, would you like anything to drink?”

“Coffee would be great love, and a couple of waters. She’ll be thirsty when she wakes up.”

“Of course.” She hands him the drinks and he puts them in the cup holders. “Here are the papers to fill out for your meals later. If you just want to leave them in the pocket when you’re done, I’ll come ‘round to pick ‘em up.”

“Sure thing, thanks.”

Harry looks over at you, and you look completely passed out. Your face was slightly scrunched, the way you always looked when you were having a dream. You made a slightly distressed noise.

“Oh no.” Harry knew you well enough to know by now that you were most likely having a bad dream, if not a nightmare.

He gently strokes your cheek to try to soothe you. Your breathing steadies, and a slight smile forms on your lips. Your eyes flutter open, and you look over to him through your lashes.

“Ya alright?” He coos.

“Can we snuggle?” You say still half asleep.

“Mhm.”

Harry puts your tray table down so he can stick the drinks on there. Then he lifts up the arm rest so you can scoot closer to him. He puts an arm around you while you nuzzle into his chest. He puts his book in his lap, and drifts off into sleep with you.

You wake up a couple of hours later with your head in Harry’s lap. He was watching TV, nibbling on some potato chips. His other hand was stroking the top of your head. You sit up slowly, and kiss him on the cheek.

“Hey, sleepy head.” You giggle.

“Hi.” You stretch. “Think I’m gonna use the bathroom.” He gets up so you can get out. The bathrooms were much nicer in first class.

When you sit back down you guzzle down the water he had gotten for you earlier. He passes you a small bag of chips.

“Got you a bag of crisps. Should be comin’ ‘round with a meal soon.”

“Crisps?” You giggle. “You’re going full Brit on me this week?”

“Very funny.” He sticks his tongue out at you.

About a half hour later, the stewardess comes around with two continental breakfasts. Harry passes you yours.

“You ordered kosher meals?”

“Yeah, they have to make ‘em fresh.”

“Smart.”

“Only a couple more hours now.” He gives your hand a squeeze.

You and Harry watch the same movie for the remainder of the flight. When you get off the plane you both use the bathroom. You brush your teeth and change into some jeans and a nicer top. You wanted to make a good first impression. Harry changed into some jeans as well. He grabs your luggage, and leads you to the rental car area.

Once you both are settled, you get into the car, accidentally opening the driver’s side, and laughing when you see the steering wheel.

“Wrong side, love.”

“Whoops! I’m all turned around.” You get in on the correct side. “Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“Am I allowed to drive here?” He chuckles.

“Course.”

“Would you let me try it out at some point during the week? It’ll be cool to say I drove on the opposite side of the road.”

“We can definitely do that. We’ll find a nice parking lot for ya to practice in.”

You gaze out the window as you take in the sights around you. He steals glances of your reactions, and smiles to himself. About an hour and half later, you come close to where his mother lives. He takes his phone out to call her.

“Hi mum, yeah, we’re about twenty minutes away. Sorry, I forgot to call when we landed. Airport was hectic. Alright, see ya soon.” He puts his phone back down. “She’s got a nice lunch ready for us, you’ll love it.”

“I can’t wait.”

Harry pulls up to a small/medium sized house.

“This is beautiful.”

“S’not where I grew up. Mum moved here once I went to uni. Still feels like home though.” He takes the luggage out of the trunk, and you both wheel them up the walkway. Harry opens the door. You both take your shoes off, and leave the luggage in the front hall.

“Harry?! That you?” Anne peaks out through the kitchen. “My baby!” She runs over to him, and gives him a big hug and kiss.

“Hi mum.” He smiles. “Mum, this is my girlfriend, Y/N.” You smile shyly.

“Hello, love.” She gives you a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “It’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Same to you, you have a lovely home.”

“Oh thanks, Harry, your sister should be here any minute. If you want the larger bedroom, I suggest you bring your things upstairs.” She looks at you. “Y/N, come to the kitchen with me while Harry does the heavy liftin’” She winks at you.

You follow her to the kitchen and see a spread of salad fixings and bread.

“Can I get you anythin’ to drink?”

“Just some water would be great, thank you.” She gets a glass and fills it with water for you. You smile as you take it.

“So, you’re the beautiful young lady my son keeps gushing about?” You blush. “He calls me once a week you know? Part of our rule for him not livin’ here anymore. He speaks so fondly of you, dear.”

“That’s sweet of you to say.” You wondered when Harry actually called his mother, because he never did it around you. Maybe when he was at work?

“I didn’t think he would ever meet someone he really loved, let alone liked.” She laughs. Harry walks back in, and sits down at the island with you.

“Oi, I hear ya talkin’, nice things to say about your only son.”

“Sorry Harry, you know how you are.” She grabs two plates. “Please, make up your plates, no need to wait for Gem, you both look famished from the flight.”

You each pile up your plates with salad. You hear someone come in through the door.

“Harry!” Gemma exclaims. He puts his plate down to give his older sister a hug.

“This is m’girlfriend, Y/N.”

“So great to meet you.” She gives you a hug. “Heard wonderful things. Don’t know why you’d wanna give this idiot the time of day, but I suppose someone had to.” She rustles Harry’s hair.

You enjoyed your lunch with the group, it was nice to see Harry interact with his family. They asked you all sorts of questions about your work and family. You listened to stories about Harry and Gemma when they were younger.

“Gem, is your boyfriend comin’ over on Christmas?” Harry asks.

“No, he’s on business right now. I’ll be leavin’ here after we do gifts to meet up with him.”

You were excited to give Harry’s mom and sister the small gifts you had picked up a couple of weeks ago. You also couldn’t wait to see the look on Harry’s face when he opens the box for the watch he’s been wanting.

“So, Y/N, does your family do anything for Christmas?” Anne asks.

“When we were younger we would wait until Christmas to do all of our Hanukkah gifts. And it was an easy day for our whole family to get together. But once we all got older and moved out, we stopped getting together. My brother and sister both have non-jewish significant others, so they spend the day with their families. We usually get together for one of the days during Hanukkah.”

“I saw some of the pictures on Facebook, can’t believe you got Harry to sit on your uncle’s knee, wish I could’ve seen that.” Gemma laughs.

“I’ll have you know, it was an initiation into her family.” He sticks his tongue out at her.

“Harry, I was thinkin’ we could all go out to eat tonight since we’ll be cookin’ a bunch tomorrow and the day after.” Anne says.

“Sounds good to me, can we go to that curry place?”

“Definitely.”

“We’ve talked your ears off, why don’t you kids go unpack a bit and relax.”

You, Harry, and Gemma all head upstairs.

“Took the bedroom with the ensuite by the way.” Harry smirks. “Snooze ya lose.” She rolls her eyes at him.

“Happy to give you two your privacy.”  You giggle and go into the room with Harry. He closes the door.

“Are you allowed to have the door closed when you have a girl in here?”

“Think it’ll be fine as long as m’sister doesn’t rat us out.” He kisses the top of your head.

You unpack your bathroom toiletries, and some of the clothes you plan to wear while in Anne’s house. Harry lays back on the bed, and waits for you to finish. You sit down next to him.

“This is a nice room. Does she often have guests?”

“Sometimes. Gem comes to visit every other weekend.”

“You’re good children.”

“My mum did a lot for us growin’ up.”

“Is your dad in the picture at all?”

“Oh sure, saw him just about every weekend growin’ up. He lives far from here now, so we won’t see him. But I plan to give him a call on Christmas.”

“Didn’t you say you had a stepdad?”

“I do..did. He passed away not too long ago.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.”

“S’alright, he was a great guy.”

“I don’t wanna fall asleep. I’m nervous I won’t be able to sleep tonight if we nap.”

“Wanna go for a walk? I can show ya the neighborhood.”

“That’d be great.”

“It’s a bit chilly, so we’ll need to bundle up.”

You leave the room. Harry knocks on Gemma’s door, and invites her to come along. The three of you tell Anne you’ll be back soon. The two point out different homes to you. The architecture was exquisite.

“Have ya ever been to England before?”

“No, it’s my first time.”

“Oh how excitin’!”

“She’s been to the Middle East though, Israel.” Harry chimes in.

“Holy shit! That’s so cool. When’d you do that?”

“My senior year of college, I went on a birthright trip.”

Gemma asks you all sorts of questions about the trip, and you show her a few photos on your phone. You liked Gemma, she was nice and friendly. Her and Harry also seemed pretty close. It reminded you of how you were with your brother. But Harry and Gemma acted more like best friends, probably since they’re so close in age.

//

The restaurant Anne took you to was perfect. It was nice, but not too fancy. You greatly enjoyed watching her scold Harry and Gemma for offering to pay. When you all get back to the house you decide to play a card game before bed. You and Harry turn in early since you both were still tired from all the traveling.

You do your nightly routine, and put on a t-shirt and pajama pants. Harry slides into bed with just a pair of boxers on. He raises an eyebrow at you as you join him in the comfy bed.

“You’re awfully covered up.”

“I didn’t know how cold it would be, plus I didn’t want you thinking we were going to get into any funny business at your mother’s house.”

“So I’m not going to see an ounce of your skin for the next three days?”

“You can see plenty of my skin.” You hold your arm out to him and giggle. “You know I’m lucky me neck has completely healed up.”

“That’ll change once we’re in London, same goes for the rest of ya.” He kisses you on the lips, and turns over.

You wrap yourself around him to spoon him, a leg going between his. You both sigh and fall asleep pretty easily.

//

The next morning you and Harry get up to take a shower. You shower together, but no funny business. Other than a few soft kisses, of course. You dry your hair, and put on a pair of jeans and a sweater. Harry does the same. You both go downstairs and see that Anne and Gemma have put together a small breakfast of beans on toast.

“Um, do you we have any plain toast?” Harry asks.

“Of course! We also have jam and butter.” Anne says. “I was thinkin’ we could all decorate the Christmas tree after breakfast. Y/N, would you feel comfortable in helpin’?”

“Sure! I’d be happy to.”

After breakfast you all go into the living room to decorate the tree. Harry and Gemma reminisce over different ornaments from their childhood. You help put different lights around the tree, and Harry plugs it in.

“Oh that’ll look just lovely when the sun sets.” Anne beams. “Thank you kids.” She wraps her arms around Harry. “I’m so happy you’re here.”

“Me too mum.”

“What do you all usually do on Christmas eve?” You ask.

“We have dinner, and then we take a drive to look at all the lights around town. Some people really do up their houses.” Gemma explains. “Then we come back and get into our pj’s and watch holiday movies and sip on hot cocoa.”

“Do you like Christmas movies, Y/N?” Anne asks.

“Oh sure, my siblings and I used to watch The Grinch every year on Christmas Eve. The one with Jim Carey.”

“We’ll just have to add that to the list then won’t we?”

“Then on Christmas morning we all have this big breakfast, and open presents. Some friends usually come to visit for dinner, and that’s about it.” Gemma finishes.

“That all sounds wonderful.”

//

After dinner, Anne drives the three of you around the neighborhood. Gemma was right, a lot of people really go all out with their lights. Harry keeps his fingers intertwined with yours for the whole drive. When you get back you were happy you brought a festive pair of pj’s, even if they were Hanukkah themed.

Gemma made everyone hot chocolate as you all got settled in the living room. You started off watching A Year Without A Santa Clause, and all of those stop motion classics.

“Hey look, The Grinch is on Netflix, shall we watch that next?” Anne asks.

“We don’t have to watch it if you all don’t want to.” You say.

“Nonsense, it’ll be a new tradition.”

“Mum, Y/N said she’d make us all potato pancakes tomorrow with breakfast. They’re really good. Do we have everything we need?”

“Yes, I have an abundance of potatoes.”

“Mm, homemade potato pancakes, what a treat.” Gemma says.

Anne flips on The Grinch and you feel a nostalgic excitement take over. Harry pulls you closer to him on the couch, and you snuggle in. You try really hard to stifle some of your laughs. But you can’t help it, you think the movie is hilarious. Harry knew it was bound to happen, you started laughing so hard you cried when the Grinch burps in a random guy’s face on the street. You were trying to be quiet about it, but it just made it funnier. Harry, Anne, and Gemma all laugh along from your infectious laughter.

You had only been there for a couple of days, but you loved his family so much already.

[daydreams-and-shortattentionspan]

Broken Clocks Part 2

A/N: I had to make this into two parts otherwise this was finna be STOOPID long. Anywho, I’m kinda proud of how I wrote this one, dialogue is usually my kryptonite but this time it was weirdly easy lol. Again, thank you @darkficsyouneveraskedfor for your unintentional motivation. And I hope y’all enjoy it! Also happy birthday to the white man in this story sksksksks

Pairings: Steve Rogers x Black!Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2.1k

Part 1

_________________________________

‘Oh Lord, it is Him,’ you thought to yourself, mental voice dripping with dread and disgust, your sense of calm dissipating into the quiet atmosphere of the subway car. You quickly turned around and hoped he hadn’t noticed you, but cruel fate decided to take the opportunity to ruin your plan; instead, you had bumped into a man who had been walking towards the door as the train was approaching his stop; this caused your purse to fall and letting your wallet to come out and makeup bag to slide across the train floor and in turn hit the foot of the one person you were trying to avoid, Jermaine, your lousy ex-boyfriend of four years.

“Wait a minute, I know this bag,” you had heard him mumble from the other side of the vicinity. You had seen that he had picked it up from your peripheral vision and began looking for the owner.

‘Oh fuck me,’ you winced as you went to pick up your wallet that luckily had landed a mere few inches away from you, but you knew fate wasn’t feeling exactly kind at this particular point in time.

Now came the moment you had wished never been a slight possibility, talking to this no-good ass hat. You turned in his direction and mentally began to hype yourself up for an inevitably awkward situation.

‘Girl you got this, he ain’t shit and you KNOW he ain’t shit, your stop is coming up, just grab your shit and get thee fuck outta there ASAP,’ you prepped yourself, a constant loop of ‘You got this’ playing in your head.

“(Y/N),” Jermery started,“you look good,” a firm grip still on your belongings, as if trying to hold you hostage.

“Thanks…” you replied, awkwardness coating every letter of the word, you grabbed one of your arms to try to gain a sense of ease and comfort as you swayed looking everywhere except in his general direction. You knew you would have to face him at some point but you truly wish now wasn’t the time. There was no point in beating around the bush, you truly had to get this over with, so you grasped every last bit of confidence and assertiveness and did what needed to be done; you didn’t have to worry about his feelings anymore, you didn’t have to fear him anymore, you had to remember you were That Bitch and He was missing out on being with You and you would never get that twisted. You had Captain fucking America’s phone number in you phone at this very moment for Christ’s Sake!

You looked him directly in the eye, and stated simply, “I’d like my makeup bag please,” while reaching out your hand for your things. This sense of fire behind your being that let off a blaze of confidence and self-worth that left him blown away. This wasn’t the (Y/N) he knew and left in the dust, but he sure did want to waste her time once again.

He tried to turn his sex appeal and swagger on, he was confident this would work on you; and to be completely and utterly honest, any other time it most definitely would have. But today he would be sorely mistaken.

“So,” he started, biting his lip and looking you up and down; light skin antics on one thousand,“ how ya been?” Oh Lord, why have you forsaken me? You know this man does not care about me.

“Fine,” you stated dryly.

“That’s cool, that’s cool… How ya momma and them?”

“Fine,” still dry.

“You know ma dukes still asks about you after all this time?” This man wants to bring up his mother? Really?

“Well, did you tell Miss Shirlene why I haven’t come around in three years? Or did you manage to skip past that detail like you used to skip over telling other women you were in a relationship?” you retorted, you obviously knew the answer. Your stop was so close you could almost touch it, no time to lose; you snatched your make-up bag from his grasp and shoved it back into your purse.

“Nah, c’mon don’t be like that mamas, you know you still miss me,” he said while using his now empty hand to grab yours and used his thumb to trace little circles on the back of it. You had snatched your hand back from his grasp.

“Ohhh yeeaaahhh, because I missed the 1-minute fuck sessions, and the skid mark boxers always lying in the middle of the living room!” With every word, your ex partner grew smaller and smaller, confidence chipping away with every syllable, “And always having your rowdy ass home boys who didn’t have respect for my apartment ever,” The patrons of the subway car now all ears and reacting with the hissing sound of second-hand embarrassment or a ‘damn’ under their breath.

“Or all those girls coming to me as a woman talking about they deal with your sorry ass. And ALWAYS paying the bill when we went out to eat because you conveniently left your wallet -which NEVER had money it- at the house, and let’s not forget how I missed your loud ass snoring that kept me up all hours of the night.” By the time you were done dragging this man’s name through the mud with all the sadly true testimonies of your relationship, the train had stopped at your destination and the doors opened. You made your way to the exit of the train, you just needed one last step and you were home free, but you stopped before turning around telling him one last thing.

“So, no Jermaine, I absolutely do NOT miss your ain’t shit ass. Now leave me the hell alone before I go to Raven as a women and tell her that you up to your ain’t shit ways again. Bet you didn’t know I know about her, huh?” And with that, the doors hissed closed but you could clearly hear the sound of the entire car screech from your victory as it rolled away.

Walking with a fresh sense of worth, you realized in your moment of triumph, where you needed to be in a matter of minutes.

“Oh shit!” You scream before making a mad dash for your final destination.

Luckily the station was only a block away from the club, you just needed to walk fast and pray all the crosswalks were ready for you before you even approached them and you’d make it in time. A skill you had managed to acquire over the years was ducking and dodging through crowds with absolute ease.

You had managed to make it when a huge crowd began to enter the club allowing you to slip into the club with absolute stealth. You made your way to the back, similar to before you greeted coworkers over the loud music but this time you avoided your boss at all costs by hiding behind customers. You had made it to your locker and began to throw in your belongings into it and undress into your new outfit and heels. You plugged your phone into the community charger, knowing it would be safe back there, seeing as you were on good terms with everyone and they always looked out for you.

You sat in a chair in front of the vanity and took a good look at yourself, exhaustion written all over your face as you added on to the makeup you were already wearing. The other girls squealing in excitement about the big celebrity that would be in The Champagne Room tonight and how they were trying to weasel their way into performing in there; you had slowly began to zone out before hearing who it was that was causing the big fuss this evening, you didn’t want anymore excitement tonight, you just wanted to dance to a couple songs, get as much money as possible and get your ass back into your bed.

“Drink this, you look terrible,” Maria, the house mother, jokingly said with a smile; snapping you back to reality handing you a cup of coffee just the way you like it.

“Thanks Mari,” you took it graciously, blowing it before taking a sip.

“Of course, mi querida,” she replied before kissing the top of your head. This was exactly what you needed to get through the night.

“Also, Johnny wanted me to tell you: you, Diamond and Star are working The Champagne Room tonight,” she whispered as to not start another round of chaos in the dressing. You simply shook your head grateful that the two you were closest to would be right by your side the entire time.

‘Please have a lot of money,’ you silently prayed to yourself before taking another swig of your coffee and getting up to make this money.

~

You had entered The Room, mind on another planet to not realize who the group that was causing all the buzz backstage. Once again, it was Steve, Sam, and Bucky. You always seemed to run on autopilot when it came to dancing, doing flips and tricks but not really being there mentally. This was your way of getting through your shift without hating every minute of it.

Steve was in awe at how flawlessly you could move up and around that pole. You were so graceful but also so sensual. He didn’t recognize you at first, due to the change in makeup and different clothes (or lack thereof) and he had the strong urge to look away from your lack of clothing but he just couldn’t because he knew who this amazingly talented woman was; it was You: the waitress from the diner. Sure the other two girls were just as talented -Sam and Bucky seemed to think so, with the way they cheered at everything they did- ,but they could not compare when it came to your beauty. He just couldn’t keep his eyes off of you.

You had just finished your third song and you were grabbing your tips from the three men, not making eye contact with Sam or Bucky; but once you had made contact with Steve, you had felt the familiar sense of electricity from earlier coursed through your body. This feeling zapped you from your daydream, you looked at the hand that was handing money to you and then you realized who it was: Your Captain.

“Oh it’s You” you said with a sincere smile that lit up your entire face, the shyness had taken, over given the surroundings in which you had bumped into each other and he tried to find the right words to say.

“Well what are the odds,” he said, a timid smile in place. You giggled at his response.

“What are you doing here?”

“What am I doing here? What are you doing here? You really shouldn’t be working in a place like this,” Steve said softly.

Before you could respond, you could hear Sam let out an exasperated sigh while throwing his head back. He could just sense Steve’s ‘You shouldn’t have to do this’ speech coming at any moment because he did this the last time he had gone out with America’s beloved Super Soldier.

“Now don’t you start with this again. Just because you Captain America don’t make you Captain Save-a-Hoe,” he had said in a somewhat joking manner.

“Now who in the hell you callin a hoe, bird brain?” you snapped back, hands on your hips; ready to pop off if need be. Bucky quietly chuckled to himself saying, “I like this girl,” before taking a swig of his beer and sitting back to watch the argument that was bound to unfold in front of him; Diamond and Star equally entertained and taking seats next to the metal-armed man.

“Well if the platform heel fits,” he had clapped back as he stood to get closer to you.

“I work here, so I GOTTA be here, you came here by CHOICE Mister Parakeet. So what’s that say about you?,” you returned as you had a finger in his face to emphasize your point.

This caused a back and forth repetition of ‘Girl get your finger outta my face’ from him and ‘Or what?’ from you.

“Enough!” Steve shouted over the commotion. That was what rendered the Falcon speechless along with yourself and everyone else in the room. Bucky still giggling to himself about the ‘parakeet’ insult, he’d have to remember that one.

‘Now both of you, apologize.” The Captain had ordered. You and Sam both mumbling half-assed ‘sorry’s to one another, arms crossed and pouting like school children.

After the argument was over, you and the girls decided to talk with the men instead of dancing seeing as the crazy events that ensued made you all comfortable with one another. Sam was actually cool and you two ended up being the cause of most of the laughs in the group. Steve and you had grown closer as the evening went on.

“Would you wanna go out tomorrow?” he had asked suddenly, you raised your eyebrows at the question. Diamond and Star were behind Steve trying to convince you to say yes in their own silly ways. Without any hesitation, you looked him right in the eyes and said, “I’d love to.”

“How about dinner at 8?”

“Sounds perfect,” your smile growing.

“I’ll make sure to call you before, to make sure you’re ready on time. For some reason you can’t avoid a broken clock.”

___________________________________

Taglist: @oceanscorazon​ @snazzyjazzy6​ @illbethethundertoyourlightning​ @petlaufeyson​ 

[the-awkward-outlaw]

Hey! I hope you've been well after the earthquake incident that happened. I was wondering if you can write a scenario where fem. Reader gives Arthur a hand job? She's a bathgirl in any of saloons ( writer's choice. ) and he goes to her everyday to relieve his pent up tension.

Thanks, Anon! The earthquakes are settling down now (thank God). Thanks for checking in! Have this smutty scene in return!

You stare out the window, looking on Valentine’s mainstreet. For some reason, it doesn’t matter the time of day or the year, the street’s always muddy. Combination of frequent rain along with constant traffic and horse waste, probably. It doesn’t exactly improve your mood or opinion of this town. 

You’ve only been in Valentine for six months. You came here looking for work as you had nowhere else to go. Unfortunately, Valentine isn’t exactly a town with a lot of opportunities for women. You could have been one of the working girls in the saloon, but the other women had a tight knit clique and weren’t too fond of you for their own reasons. The girls working in the hotel were a lot simpler and therefore nicer. You weren’t overjoyed that part of the work was to assist men who wanted help in the washroom. It wasn’t the work itself, you didn’t mind it, it was the people. Most of them were men, farmers, blacksmiths, stableboys, the like and most of them often said quite disgusting things to you and they smelled even worse. But the perks of dealing with them was you got to keep all the money the men gave you. 

Luckily your duties weren’t just washing gross men and the occasional woman. You also had to clean the rooms after patrons left. You feel sorry for one man on the second floor who’s been trapped in room 2B for what seems like ages. The owner and desk clerk, Mr. Harrison, tells you he’s been here months and seems to have a bowel problem. You can hear the man himself groaning in misery at mixed hours of the day. He won’t let anyone into the room to clean, not that you’re complaining. 

It’s May now. The air’s getting warmer, the days longer. You love this time of year. Wildflowers grow close to the roads, removing some of the livestock stench with their own perfumes, even though it doesn’t help much. You’ve just finished cleaning a room on the upper floor and you walk down the stairs. You’d like to get some breakfast in the saloon, but just as you’re heading for the door, Harrison stops you.

“Just had aman come in for a wash. Will you see if he needs anything?” 

You sigh and nod. At least the money you get from washing people is better than the ten cents you make as a daily wage. You knock on the door. “Need some help in there?” 

A gruff voice responds. You don’t recognize it. “Sure.” 

You sigh and straighten yourself up. Unlike some of your coworkers, you keep your blouse buttoned up. The other women say men are likely to pay a bit more money if you show your cleavage, but you didn’t think the money was worth being gawked at like that. Especially not when your hands were on them and you’d occasionally brush their groins to feel them hard. It was revolting, so you keep yourself dressed as normal as possible. 

When you walk in the door, you expect to see some filthy rancher with a horny look on his face. You did not expect the handsome, rugged cowboy sitting in the tub, his eyes closed in relaxation. He almost looks like he’s gone too long without a bath and he’s enjoying the hot water. You smile at him when he opens his eyes. 

“I’m gonna take good care of you,” you say, feeling optimistic about him. You sit on the edge of the tub and begin rubbing his back. He sighs, clearly enjoying your touch. You move to his arms, trying not to look at his broad, slightly hairy chest. He really is a handsome man and he’s got the right amount of hair on his chest and arms. 

“You new to these parts?” you ask. “No offense, I just ain’t seen you around here before. Definitely would have remembered you.” 

He blushes and lifts up his other arm. “Yeah. Stayin’ in a place not too far from here. Just got in a week ago.” 

You hum in response. He lifts his leg for you to wash. He watches your hand move over his leg. “Hmm, glad for this. Been a hard few days.” 

“What do you do?” you ask.

“Ah, I worked at a factory with some people and we just got laid off. Tryin’ to find work now.” 

“That’s too bad. Well, I hope you stay in town for sometime.” 

What is wrong with you? You haven’t ever flirted with patrons before. But this man’s so handsome, he’s exactly your type. Broad, tall, scruffy beard. Blue eyes that remind you of a clear stream. 

As he lowers his leg and lifts his other one, he says, “They sure don’t like strangers in this town.” 

You know what he means. People in this town are suspicious. You had a hard enough time when you first showed up, but you’ve been working here long enough people are generally accepting. “Yes and it’s too bad. We sure could use some new folk like you.” 

As you finish washing his leg, your hand slips up a bit further than you expected. You can’t see through the bubbles and you’re curious about his size. You feign washing him and brush against his cock, which is semi-hard, a typical response. He flinches a bit. 

“Sorry,” he says, embarrassed about his state. “I don’t want ya to think I’m a perve.” 

“Please,” you say, your cheeks pink. “You’re the first man who hasn’t said anything suggestive or tried to pinch my rear.”

He chuckles a bit, leaning back and lowering his leg. There’s something about this man. You’ve had men offer you extra money to give them handjobs and you’ve done it because the money was good, but you didn’t like it. You’re hoping this man will ask you for one, not because of the money but because he is handsome and he has treated you respectfully. 

“You, uh, need anything else?” you ask, trying not to sound forward. “You seem like you’re not quite relaxed yet. I can really help you there.” 

He opens his eyes. “What do you have in mind, miss?” 

“I can… help with your little problem.” 

He swallows. “You, uh, ain’t married, are ya?” 

You smile at him and shake your head. “Not with anyone either.” 

He smiles and leans his head back, closing his eyes. “Sure, I wouldn’t mind some extra help.” 

You smile and glide your hand up his leg, grabbing his length. He groans when you touch him and then you slowly begin to pump him. He grows hard quickly. You still can’t see much through the bubbles but from what you can feel, he’s well endowed. You can feel the thick vein that runs down his cock. You trace it, finding his head. You brush it, his length twitches in your hand. 

“Been a long time since you were touched, I take it?” you say. He just moans in response, his hands gripping the sides of the tub. You grin and continue pulling on him. It doesn’t take much longer before his hips begin to buck and then you feel his cock grow hot and then the tip bursts. 

“Sorry,” he says, his face flushed. “Didn’t mean to go off so quick.” 

“No worries,” you say. You smile at him when he looks at you. “To be honest, you lasted longer than I expected and I could tell you needed that.” 

“Hmm, how much I owe ya for that?” 

You bite your lip, feeling like a whore suddenly. “N-nothing, mister. That one’s on the house.” 

You kiss his head and then leave. The feeling vanishes quickly when you think about how he felt in your hand. A few moments later, he comes out of the washroom. God, he’s even hotter now than he was in the tub. He tips his hat to you and thanks you before exiting the door. 

The next day, the same man comes in. He tips his hat to you and pays for a bath. Once again, he invites you in when you ask if he needs help. A thrill of excitement shoots through your chest. You’d dreamt of him last night, not in any kind of sex scenario, but he’d been there and you enjoyed it. When you enter, you’re prepared to wash him but he stops you. 

“Ma’am, I hope ya don’t think I’m a perv or tryin’ to take advantage of you. But you did wonders for me yesterday. Like I said, this is a real stressful time for me and ya helped me a lot yesterday.” 

You smile. “Glad I could be of service. I’m certainly happy to help you out again.” You grab him again and begin working. He lasts a bit longer this time, but his bucking is slower, more controlled. You feel yourself getting turned on by watching his face as he’s bucking into your hand. Your hand was on his tip when he exploded, his warm seed rushing through your fingers. Not that you minded of course. 

It’s been over a week since the first time you washed him. He’s come in everyday since, asking for your magic touch. He thinks you’re beautiful and you know exactly how to touch him to make him feel amazing. He finds himself lucky to have found you. Over the days, you’ve gotten to know each other. He’s told you his name and that he’s not actually an ex factory worker, but an outlaw. This comes as a shock to you, but not for the reasons he suspects. In fact, you’re thrilled. Finally someone interesting has turned up and he just happens to be handsome and kind. He talks about his old dog sometimes and how much he misses him. For being a tough outlaw, he has such a soft spirit. 

“Don’t be fooled,” he said when you mentioned this as you stroked him. “These hands have killed, sweetheart.” 

He finds your little “meetings” therapeutic as well. Something about you makes him want to open up. He tells you a bit about the gang, the hardships that come from living in it. His son and how he and his mama were killed, how painful it was to see their graves. You cried when he told you this story. 

Arthur’s had an affect on you. It didn’t take long for you to have a sex dream about him. You’ve had them before with people you’ve never seen, but this one had been a good one. You want it to become true. Of course, there’s heavy repercussions for a bath girl to sleep with one of her clients. You could lose your job if you get caught. More and more though, you find yourself dreaming and even fantasizing about sleeping with him. All his secrets have been spilled at your feet (and into your hand), you just want to do the same with him. It sounds like he’s not properly appreciated in this gang he runs with and yet he works so hard. 

One day, as he’s just gotten settled and you knock on the door, you don’t even bother asking. However, you do unbutton the top of your blouse to reveal the tops of your breasts. You want to give him a bit of a show. 

When he sees you, his eyes go instantly to your chest. As soon as you touch him, you feel he’s already rock hard. You begin pumping him and his eyes close. 

“You really do have magic fingers,” he groans. “I ain’t exactly seen a lot of women, but… I don’t know, you do somethin’ special to me.” 

You smile. “Would you like to see me?”

His eyes open, his brow furrowed. “How do you mean?” 

You extract your hand from the warm water. He watches as your fingers trail up to your blouse and you unbutton it. You didn’t bother to put on a chemise this morning since you knew he’d be in. You slip your shirt open, exposing your breasts. His eyes stare at them and he swallows again. 

“You want to touch me?” you ask. “I won’t charge anything.” 

His hands fumble on the edge of the tub. You dip your hand back into the water and gingerly stroke his cock. His hand slips off the tub and finds your left breast. His hands are warm and calloused, which only adds to the pleasant sensation. His thumb flicks over your nipple and he licks his lips. You smile, blushing. Heat travels down between your legs. Oh, how you wish he’d touch you there, but you’re not quite ready for that yet, you don’t think. 

His hand studies your breasts, flicking between them. His hips begin to thrust as you pump him. He goes off rather quickly. 

“Sorry,” he says as he pinched your nipple while releasing. “You’re, well, you’re somethin’ special.” 

You blush and smile. “You want this to become a regular thing too?” 

He hesitates. “If… if you’re a’right with that.” 

You lean forward and kiss him on the head, giving him an eyefull of your chest. “Then expect it from now on, handsome.” 

Over the next few days, as soon as you enter the washroom, you remove your shirt. He’s become braver too, his hands instantly finding your nipples. Sometimes when one of his hands is on your breast and your hand’s on his cock, your other hand will find your other breast. He seems to like watching you touch yourself. 

It doesn’t take long before you start getting completely undressed for him. He finds your curves to be the sexiest thing. You know you’re risking your job by exposing yourself like this, but this man gets you heated like nothing else has ever done. 

One day, you enter the washroom and start stripping out of your clothes. You turn around and see he’s naked, but not in the tub. He fumbles with his hands for a moment. 

“What you doin’?” you ask, your hand stopping halfway through unbuttoning your blouse. 

“I uh, I feel a bit bad. I been takin’ advantage of ya all these days and ya ain’t charged me for none of it. I just… I wanna repay the favor.”

“What do you have in mind?” 

“Why don’t ya get in the tub and we’ll switch roles?” 

You smile and continue stripping. When you’re settled, Arthur washes your hair and then moves down to your arms, your legs. He’s gentle, his hands rough. You’re trembling by the time his hands reach your breasts. He strokes your nipples, making them perk up even more in the steamy air. Then one hand goes down and finds your folds. You gasp when his hand slips in and he tickles your clit. You spread your legs a bit more to give him more access. He rubs you slowly and then he slips a finger into your center, followed by another. 

“Oh Arthur,” you say, your eyes closed. He begins pushing his fingers in and out of you, his thumb stroking your clit. Your hips start thrusting in time with his movements. Within what feels like seconds, something blooms in your stomach and then goes down to your legs and bursts. You tilt your head back and groan loudly, though you try to keep it down so Harrison won’t hear. 

No man has ever made you orgasm before. You’ve only slept with two men before and both of them took care of themselves, leaving you half hot. You’d had to take care of yourself afterwards. But Arthur, oh Arthur. You’re not even having sex and he’s got you turning into jelly into his hand. 

“More,” you find yourself panting. He chuckles and continues tickling your clit, his fingers slipping into you and then pulling out only to go back in. His free hand finds your nipple again and he tweaks it. He touches and rubs you more and more, applying just the right pressure until you’re exploding into his hand again. 

“Wow,” you say, your limbs feeling limp. “Thank you, Mr. Morgan. But let me take care of you now. After all, you’re the patron.” 

Before he can say anything, you’re climbing out of the top and on top of him. You kiss him and he lays down on the floor. You grip his shoulders and his hands weave into your hair. You straddle his hips and grab his hard cock. He’s never been more firm, not even that time you licked his chest and neck. You guide him into your entrance. His length spreads your walls. He feels so good. 

You sit up, letting him stare at your breasts, and then you begin to bounce, swirling your hips on his. He groans and grabs your thighs, spreading them even more as he sinks deeper into you. His hips begin bucking into you and he brushes your spot. You groan loudly and his right hand slips from your thigh and back to your slit. He tickles your swollen nub. Your hands plant onto his chest as he thrusts up into you.

It doesn’t take long before you feel that bubble expand again. His cock brushes against your spot in time with his hand rubbing your clit and you’re done for. You bite your lip to prevent you from making any sound (though you might end up biting your lip off). He pumps harder and faster, his cock rooting around inside you. Only seconds after you come down from your high, he quickly pulls out and releases onto your stomach. He looks at the mess with loving eyes. 

“Damn, girl,” he grunts. “You really know what you’re doin’.” 

“I’ll say, but I ain’t the only one with magic fingers, Mr. Morgan.” You bend down and kiss him again.

[venushasvixens]

Leather and Embers and Coffee (Kylo Ren x Reader)

“I have a large cold brew for Leo.”

This morning in the cafe you worked in was very busy for a Monday. It was like the minute you turned your back to make a drink, there was another customer coming in. It was supposed to be you and your coworker Ein, but called to tell you he was going to be about an hour late, which irritated you to the max. Working in the cafe down the street from Starbucks, you were always going to get those customers who try to order a Strawberry Acai with extra fruit, or a S'mores Frappuccino with no whip. 

“I’m sorry ma’am, but we don’t carry that drink.” you would say. 

And then it was like they went through the 5 stages of grief, all in about 5 seconds. You’ll get the “well I ordered it last time and you all made it,” or the “the coffeehouse down the street makes it, why can’t you?”, or your personally favorite, “Starbucks is better than you anyways.” 

You still got a good amount of business, since your coffeehouse was more homey and the prices were lower, so it didn’t really bother you. You could carry a shift by yourself, since you’ve been working here for the past few years and such. It wasn’t that hard or grueling. The only thing bothering you today was Ein calling and that was it. 

You just finished helping a customer when a group of men all dressed in suits walked in, a threatening jaunt in their step. In the middle of the group was a man with red hair, a scowl smeared on his face. His face conveyed so much annoyance, it seemed you could hear what was going through his head. You could also tell that he was rich, seeing as his suit looked like it cost more than your rent, which was already overpriced for a studio. 

He glanced around the cafe, surveying the people. He took a few more steps in, shooing away his bodyguards. You continued making the drinks when you saw a tall man with wavy, dark hair walking in. This was one of your regulars, who came in around the same time everyday, and ordered the same thing. You smiled at him, giving him a small wave. You could remember his order in the middle of this mess. It was a cafe mocha with  extra chocolate syrup, and occasionally, a croissant.  A He gave you a small nod, his version of a hello. His corners of his lips twisting into what you think was either a smile or he was just making a face at the crowd surrounding you. 

The red head turned to your regular, speaking lowly but closely to him. The regular leaned in, listening to all he had to say. As you shelled out drink after drink, the crowd became smaller. It was then that the redhead sauntered over to the register, tapping his finger on the counter. You wiped your hands on your apron. 

“Good morning, how can-” you began. He lifted his hand to ignore you. 

“Americano with an extra shot of espresso.” he said, “should be easy for you.” 

“And a good name?” you asked. 

“Some people should already know my name, but I’ll spare you the embarrassment. It's Hux, H-U-X.” he muttered. 

Okay, already hating this. As you tapped his order into the system, he began tapping the counter with his metal debit card, sighing. 

“Okay, that is 4.00 dollars.” you said. He tossed the card on the counter, making a clinking sound as it hit the surface. A smirk rose on his face. 

“Did you hear that sound?” he asked you. 

Biting your tongue, you replied. “What sound, sir?” 

“That’s the sound of making real money in the real world. In an actual business.” he said proudly. 

You just nodded, swiping his card so you can make his coffee and he can leave. 

“You know, I just started working in that building across the street, so this may become my little hangout.” he said. Oh, great. 

“Oh, sweet!” you said, plastering a fake smile on your face. “This really is a nice place to sit and relax.” 

For some reason, you felt yourself regret your choice of words. 

“Ah, yes. Relax, people watch, checking out some nice girls like yourself.” he said quietly. You caught that last part, and wanted to pour your freshly brewed french press on his smug face. 

“Alright, here you go. Well, I hope to see you again soon!” you said cheerfully. 

As you hand his receipt, his fingertips gently brushing the top of your hand. 

“I hope so too, (y/n).” he smirked. 

I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home I want to go home I want to- 

“Hello.” you heard. 

You looked up to see your regular standing in front of you, his arms crossed. He flashed you a small smile. 

“How are you? It's been a minute since I saw you.” you said, smiling. 

“Since yesterday, nothing much has happened.” he replied. 

“Better to have nothing happened to have something happen.” you said. 

He shrugged. “Nothing did happen, and he’s standing over there.” he mumbled. 

You leaned over the counter, trying not to look too suspicious. 

“Are you both working together?” you whispered. 

He bent down to whisper, he cologne smelling of burnt leather and cinnamon. The scent was so warm and welcoming, you almost forgot you were in a coffeehouse and not by a fireplace at Christmas. 

“Unfortunately, yes. I’ve already decided to find a way to get rid of him.” he whispered. 

“Get rid of him? And how do you plan on doing that?” you said quietly, your hand cupping the side of your mouth. 

“Make it look like an accident and hide him far, far away. No one will miss him, except the cat.” He smirked. 

You nervously laughed. “Should I be concerned?” 

His smirk quickly faded. “Oh, no no no. I was joking, I promise.” 

“You had me in the first half, not going to lie.” you chuckled. 

“Me? Nah, I could never.” he replied. 

“Unless?” you grinned. 

“Yes, (y/n), unless.” he smiled. 

You haven’t seemed to notice Hux striding to the counter. 

“What seems to be the hold up?” he muttered, “we have places to be, get on it.” 

Taken aback by his sudden appearance and new found anger for you, you felt your cheeks get red in what you think was anger or embarrassment. 

“I-i’m sorry-” you began, but was cut off. 

“She’s still helping me, thank you. And she’ll get on it when she’s done helping me.” Ren said, a small clench in his jaw becoming more noticeable. There was a small silence, then Hux let off a sigh. 

“In that case, Ren, I’ll order for you. Another Americano, same as mine. Just so you don’t waste anymore of my time.” he ordered. With a snap of his fingers, you nervously wrote Ren’s name on his cup.

“And this one is on me. Take this as a first day gift from yours truly.” Hux smiled, throwing his card like he did before. As you ran his card again, he checked his Apple watch, shaking his head. 

“Will you look at that, Ren?” he held up his watch right in Ren’s face, “they need me back. Do me a favor and grab my coffee?” 

Hux walked out, swinging the door open. You turned back to Ren, who was looking very upset. You couldn’t tell if it was embarrassment, anger, or annoyance. Maybe it was all three at once. 

“I’ll be okay. Just thinking of that good hiding spot.” he said. 

“So am I, just let me know when you do it so we can celebrate.” you chuckle. He walked to the pickup spot, his arms crossed. As you started Hux’s drink, you decided to do something special. You secretly placed a croissant in the microwave, glancing up to see if he was watching. You didn’t mind the way Ren looked at you. There was nothing malice or creepy, above all it was more awe and watching you work. Instead of making another Americano, you began to steam some milk and pulled out the chocolate syrup. 

You placed Hux’s and Ren’s drink in a small holder, as well as a bag. 

“Here a gift from us for being a loyal customer.” you smiled. He looked in the bag, seeing his croissant. 

“Oh god, thank you. This means a lot, (y/n)” He beamed, placing 15 dollars in the tip jar.  

“Anytime.” As he started to walk off, you waved your hand. “Oh, wait!” 

“Yes?” he said, turning around to look at you. 

“Can you tell me how your Americano tastes? Just to be sure it's alright.” you said. 

“Oh course, I never had it before, so-” As he tasted it, he put his head down, but you could see he was blushing. 

“Soo, what do you think?” you asked. 

“It's the best thing I ever tasted.” he said, taking another sip. 

With you, you didn’t hide blushing at all. “Thank you so much. Tell me how it goes.” you said, referencing his little problem. 

“Oh trust me, I will.” he smiled, waving bye. 

You waved back, watching him leave. As soon as he walked out, you let yourself think of what happened. You kept replaying your conversation over and over. You did this every time you both would talk. It was a nice pastime to ease the boredom. But what kept popping up in your head was his smile. He didn’t smile much, just a little chuckle and maybe a slight upturn of the corners of his lips sometimes. So maybe you did something really good today. 

You heard the clicks of Ein’s footsteps rushing behind you. 

“I was a goner for a second out there. Has the rush started yet?” he asked as he put his apron on, his face flushed. 

“You just missed it, sweets. It wasn’t all that bad.” you smiled, handing him a small cup of coffee. 

“Thank you, I need this.” he took the cup and gulped the entire thing. He squinted his eyes at you suspiciously. “You have that look in your eye, the one that kinda scares me. What happened?” 

You told him about your recent encounter with your favorite regular, as well as your new hatred for his coworker. 

“You’re such a sweetheart, (y/n). I’m telling ya, he really has a thing for you. One day he’s going to come in here, get on one knee and ask you to marry him. No dating, nothing, just straight to the wedding.” he said. 

“He does have the money to pay for it on the spot, sooo..” you and Ein laughed. After your giggle fest, you began to clean the counter from the rush. You were cleaning around the register when you spotted it. A small, metal card, with the name Armitage Hux inscribed on the front. Oh no. 

- 

AUTHOR NOTE: Yes I wrote a coffeeshop au. Did I enjoy making it though? Absolutely. You can find more of me on Wattpad underneath the same name. I’ll be going back and forth, but Wattpad is just so much easier to manage. Please stay safe out there, mwah!! 

[zombriekid]

The Devil Takes Care of His Own 3/?? [Alastor/Gender Neutral Reader]

Series: Hazbin Hotel

Chapter Name: Checking In?

Chapter Summary: you’re faced with a dilemma as the happy hotel opens its doors to you

Text from: The Boss

“WHAT. THE FUCK. DID YOU DO, NEWBIE?”

Oh no...

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

Fuck... oh fuck, oh god no, please.

“WHY ARE SO MANY OF MY CLIENTS COMPLAINING ABOUT YOU?!”

The drop of your stomach echoes with a fluttering impression, while a surge of heat, abrupt and uncomfortable, licks at the lining of your throat all the way up to your jaw and it bleeds into your ears; the burgundy walls all around you begin to shrink.

“SOWBELLY SAYS YOU BROKE SOME SHOT!”

“*shit you broke some shit”

“AND THAT COFFEE SMELLIN HIPSTER FUCK SAYS-”

With a resounding clack, your phone slips from your grip and plummets to the sturdy countertop below, a noise that makes the three people around you flinch (you notice distantly), but your brain- your outermost awareness- doesn’t even bother. Because your entire world is now summing up to the blurbs of rapid fire notifications assaulting the LCD screen. Message after heated text message just filled to the brim with expletives and threats and perpetual capslock until this massive wall of verbal abuse blurs your vision; makes your head throb in sync with the increasing thump-thump of your heart.

The device vibrates against the bar and its screen lights up with another message alert, this one demanding your immediate response before declaring you a “useless piece of shit”, and then not long after comes a voice mail about a minute in length.

You’re not gonna listen to it though, you’re gonna grovel.

A tap from your right middle finger brings the digital keyboard to the glass, and your digits begin dancing across the letters to formulate what you consider to be a heartfelt apology, and you beg forgiveness for your transgressions as a lowly delivery person.

But three paragraphs in your hand forces a sudden stop; typos in need of amending due to the constant use of the backspace key, an entire sentence underlined by red squiggly lines with no break between the nonsense letters, and without realizing it at some point you accidentally pulled up the emoji list and now thirty percent of your sniveling is made up of a bunch of cartoons. It’s an odd sensation, you think as you stare back at the jargon, a backlog of muscle memory for modern technology yet you can’t even design coherent text messages in order to save face.

In order to save your fucking job.

All because your goddamn useless hands won’t stop fucking shaking.

Suppose it’s a futile effort at this point- your ass is one hundred percent absolutely and totally fired now.

Meaning no money for bills, no money for food, for utilities, for clothes... Here comes your eviction notice- goodbye lumpy mattress, and a fine greeting to the filthy streets of Pentagram City. A steep price for your compulsive philanthropy, go figure that that’s how things operate down here. How bass ackwards.

But that’s alright, that’s okay, you’ve been through worse you think- you’ve been- you’ve...

You’ve suffered through worse before. Homelessness? Ha, nothing compared to the shit you’ve seen willingly, a temporary setback, maybe a coworker will let you sleep on their couch. The new girl, what was her name? Stacy? Yeah, she’s pretty eager she’ll let you crash with her- it’ll give her more of an excuse to “befriend” you but that’s alright. Sacrifice comfort for survival, right?

“Newbie.”

Not the first time, definitely won’t be the last; life in a concrete jungle is such a fickle bitch, especially here in-

“Newbie!”

-here in Pentagram City.

Present time. Post death. Hell. The here and now.

Impossibly small hands are pulling the apples of your cheeks into fleshy bulbs, folding your lips as a pout, and the darkened corners of your vision dim until Niffty’s lone ocular takes precedence in sight; a triad of quick blinks help anchor your focus.

Oh. How wonderful. Yet another episode... how many does that make today? Certainly way more than usual.

You blame the stress.

“Newbie, you okay?” Niffty asks with a tight throat, and a bob of your head delivers your response.

“Just havin’ a... moment. But I’m alright now.”

She glances down to her right in the direction of your phone, still glaring at you from the grainy surface of the bar, and it’s as if you can literally see the gears in her brain start to rotate. You’re fairly certain that she’s about to put two and two together and get four.

“That’s just my own bossman, Mr. Terry. Well, pretty sure he’s my former boss now.”

“Is it cause of today? When you helped me?”

Your knee-jerk reaction is to mindlessly blurt out a response that would confirm her suspicions, but luckily whatever humanity remains in tact notices her pitch- not necessarily concern rather something akin to it paints the undertone- and it clamps your mouth shut with an audible click of your teeth. Because what you were about to do, what you were about to say, be it directly or indirectly that was going to shift at least some of the blame on to her, and that would be completely unfair. The fault doesn’t lie with her. It’s entirely your own. First off the little lady didn’t even ask for your help, she didn’t beckon to you she didn’t plead for interception, you swooping in to “save the day” was your body’s reflexive need to act, to just do something instead of perpetuating the stereotype of morbidly curious bystander. Second, the manner of which how you saved her was incredibly, stupidly sloppy- a path of damage shadowing your trek and all you left behind was a substantial cost of repairs and replacements. Since when was charging through a line of stores ever a good idea?!

No, you made the decision to do something about Niffty’s situation, so you could’ve found a better way to engage it- actually you should’ve found a better way, but your lapse in judgment cost some people tools, resources, products, and even some clientele, thus costing you practically everything, and now Hell is demanding its pound of flesh from someone’s hide.

Don’t let her believe that it may come from her.

“Nah, I accidentally pissed off some clients recently,” you say as you gently take hold of her hands and remove them from your face. “No need to worry about it, kiddo.” Which none of that is a lie in any capacity, sometimes your cleverness does in fact shine through.

Niffty doesn’t seem to think so, though obviously there’s no way for her to know without some form of mind reading, regardless her face falls into a displeased frown complete with round, bulgy cheeks. “I’m not a kid, Newb. Besides you’re younger than me!”

Oh, she’s so friggin precious, you’re gonna miss this youngen. “In terms of dates, sure. But my, uhh, ‘departure time’ so to speak-” you decorate this with air quotes “-gives me some years on ya.”

“Yeah, by a few at most.”

... No? By, like, ten-ish years? Are you missing something?

“Dude I’m pretty sure I died somewhere in my twenties.”

“Okay? And?”

Okay, yeah, you’re definitely missing something. The tingles on the back of your neck prove this.

She’s not a child, is she?

“... Niffty, how old were you when you bought the farm?”

“Twenty two.”

Alright, okay, that’s dope- how long until the next extermination? That’s a thing you’ve heard about, and you’d really love to volunteer yourself to be first in line right about now. The sooner the better, really.

From pit in his stomach comes an eruption of raucous glee, such an intense reaction that it forces Angel Dust- long forgotten until now- to bend until he’s bracing himself with two hands on his knees, the other pair clutching around his heaving abdomen, as he cry-laughs at your expense.

Meanwhile, the feathered feline fellow manning the bar makes a sound in the back of his throat loud enough to reach your ears, and when you give him your attention he deems the conversation relevant enough to glimpse at you from the corner of his amber eyes; there’s a deep green bottle entrapped in his massive paws and with a tip of the neck he takes a hearty swig before he finally mutters whatever is on his mind. You catch a whiff of the unmistakeable odor of bitter, cheap booze.

“Didja really think Niff’s a kid?”

...

Ten minutes.

Ten whole arduous minutes spent enduring rigorous taunting and not-so-light-hearted ribbing from all three demonic compatriots; statements such as “not so bright are ya, smooth talka?” ala Angel and “no wonder you’re so weird” courtesy of Niffty force the tips of your ears to sear with your cheeks quickly following the same trend.

In your defense, Niffty’s rather small stature and youthful disposition makes her seem much younger than she actually (apparently) is, and sincerest apologies to the court but she’s the most humanoid individual you’ve encountered downside- other than Charlie, of course- so how were you to know that she wasn’t a child in danger solely based on the information you were given? It’s not like you had the time to stop and ask!

And if this trio of assholes would take a few moments to consider your perspective then maybe they wouldn’t be so quick to jump straight to mockery, so until they do they can just suck your bits.

____________________________________

Some time passes, you’re unclear on how much for you refuse to even so much as think of your phone right now, and though you’ve yet to receive anything further from Mr. Terry- no more text messages, no more voice mails, no more notifications- and though the hotel’s three residents have retired from their cruelty and are seeking entertainment elsewhere- Niffty on a dusty painting, Husk at the bottom of a bottle, and Angel Dust... doing whatever in another room- still you find no peace.

No respite from this fuster cluck of a situatio.

And you don’t know what you’re going to do about it.

But you gotta do something, can’t let this continue to fester, so take a deep breath: one, two, three, four- and let it out: five, six, seven, eight- and repeat. Clear your head. Think about this logically.

The first step should be an apology, of course, but your gut tells you that a simple “I’m sorry, didn’t mean to, won’t happen again” just wouldn’t suffice- not for a group of pissed off demons at least. And your employment with Mr. Terry is a measly two weeks young, nowhere near enough to build up some sort of history of positive work ethic, so starting with him is practically a fool’s errand already.

After all, your enigmatic boss isn’t known for his mercy.

... maybe...

Maybe you’re on to something with that assessment.

Maybe you shouldn’t apologize to him first but rather save him for last. Work up the list of priorities instead of down.

Starting with the demon you pissed off first: Mrs. Sowbelly.

Two pokes at your back.

A delicate, graceful exclamation of “FUCK!” comes bellowing out of your mouth as the abrupt shock nearly sends your ass careening to the floor, your hands scrambling upon the bar in order to hook stability.

Mere seconds later and you find Charlie over the slope of your shoulder with her right index finger pointed in your direction; the look on her face suggests that your squawking startled her. In this moment your mouth works much faster than your brain and an apology is already leaping off your tongue... that is until you notice the person standing next to her.

Now, not to be rude about it, but there’s nothing inherently striking about this individual; gray tinted skin, long white hair pouring down the length of her spine, a few inches shorter than the blonde at her side, and a large pink eye staring straight at you with something like irritation. For the most part, she looks human- not humanoid like Charlie and Niffty, but like you.

Human.

And that’s why she’s stealing your attention.

“Hey Newbie, I want to introduce you to the Happy Hotel’s manager and my partner, Vaggie.” Charlie says with a somewhat forced smile, likely residual from your outburst.

With your eyes trained on the gal in question, you blurt out the first thing that comes to mind. “Howdy, pleasure to meet you.”

Vaggie doesn’t say anything back.

Luckily, however, Charlie keeps the conversation rolling.

“The two of us actually wanted to talk to you about something important. Is... is that okay?”

For your anxiety? Anything that even remotely parallels “we need to talk” is a near guarantee to sending your heart to the racetrack, so no it’s not okay in that regard. That being said, given her response earlier, before Mr. Terry battered you with derisive texts, and the fact that she called the manager/her girlfriend over is... well, you’d be lying if you said that you aren’t intrigued. Skeptical, maybe even paranoid, but intrigued. So you give your consent.

“Cool beans! So, umm, I think I’m just going to cut to the chase here,” she clears her throat, “we want you to stay here. At the Happy Hotel. To be rehabilitated.”

...

....

“I’m sorry, fucking what?”

The question is out before the rest of your body has time to process Charlie’s words, but even when you fully digest the information you’re still left feeling perplexed. What does she mean “rehabilitation”, what all does that entail, why did she have to call her girlfriend for this?

And, oh, how her patience seems to know no bounds for the smile that curls on her lips is soft, and her brow pulls together in what you can only call generosity. Like she understands your confusion; makes you wonder how often she goes through this schtick.

“Allow me to explain our predicament since you’re still new.”

And she does, in great detail, weaving a copper-scented tapestry with threads dyed the shades of suffering and heinous sin. In less pretentious terms, she regurgitates material you’ve only heard in passing. Hell is bursting at the seams with its substantial over population issue, one that only grows more exacerbated with each newcomer, and with limited real estate and even more limited resources the powers that be reached the conclusion long ago that a percentage just... has to go. Enter the exterminators, a team set out from the tippy topside whose sole purpose is to literally slash some numbers in half once a year.

Charlie doesn’t like this, in fact her exact words are “it kills me inside knowing that my people are being systematically annihilated” and honestly they kinda make you equate this to that of a speech from some representative- an authority figure, someone with power, which makes sense if this is her hotel. It’s pretty, the way she feels about the annual genocide, but you’ve yet to hear her alternative solution if she has any to begin with.

As the saying goes, actions do speak louder than words.

That’s when she genuinely explains the hotel’s purpose: to purge the demons of their vices, purify their souls, make right their wrong doings from when they were alive so that they can walk through the pearly gates as a reborn person, faultless and whole. Redemption. Rehabilitation. Because a hotel is only a temporary pitstop between two destinations.

The idea... makes enough sense, you guess.

“I mean, that’s neat, super admirable, and the whole idea of reforming demons instead of just- ya know- offing them sounds way better in comparison. But uhh- what does this have to do with me?”

“Well,” Charlie looks over at Vaggie before advancing her explanation, “you’re new. You haven’t regained your memories yet, your body hasn’t adapted yet, you still have your humanity- I mean you helped Niffty out of a tight spot without any expectation of a reward!”

“Nah, I just did what felt like the right thing at the time.”

“Exactly! We need someone like that here!”

Ah.

Now the picture has clarity.

What Charlie said earlier, “... if I can help just one demon find redemption here then everyone else will believe too!” that was merely another way of saying “we haven’t succeeded yet.” And judging by the way the hotel’s current residents, this motley crew of friends(?), they’ve been trying with people who have been here a lot longer than you have- you, a newbie that hasn’t gone through “the Change” yet, hasn’t full acclimated or been assimilated into the disgusting system of eternal suffering. Like they have. If redemption can be had here it’s more likely to be found with a newcomer like you, and if you can be saved then it’ll prove possible for anyone else.

At least that’s what you’ve surmised from the situation.

It doesn’t sit right with you though.

You did something topside to warrant your arrival here, or maybe you did a lot of things, or maybe you didn’t do enough, you don’t know and that’s the point. You don’t remember. There could be a mountain of skeletons shoved into your closet that you’re completely unaware of and until further notice that’s where they’re going to remain if they even exist.

You. Don’t. Know.

There are way too many unknown variables regarding your past- no, you’re very identity, and though you’ve been reassured on numerous occasions that that’s actually the standard here for newcomers... that doesn’t mean you deserve a second chance. Because who you were may not deserve it.

So don’t waste the room on a potential lost cause, is what you tell them.

“All the more reason to try it now before your memories can influence you.” Vaggie says in a firm voice, the very first you’ve heard her speak. 

And admittedly the logic is sound, you’re not trying to dispute that, it’s just... 

Not you- a clattering racket against the bar top- anyone else may deserve this opportunity- disrupts the conversation- but not you- and it takes all of two seconds to determine the source. It’s your phone, probably Mr. Terry announcing you officially dead to his business.

“Do you have a place to stay?” Still Vaggie.

As of right now, no, you really don’t.

“Residents can board here for free, you just have to stay clean- no sinning, at least as best you can.”

That’s not too bad, you think. Maybe you should-

No! No, one “good deed” doesn’t merit a shot at atonement. It’s not going to negate whatever it is you did to topside to leave you downside.

...but you’re more than likely out of a job now, one that barely paid enough to cover expenses to begin with, and losing your apartment is trailing not that far behind.

“What do you say, Newbie?”

“I-” the sudden dryness in your throat drags forth a minor coughing fit. “I don’t know if I deserve it.”

“Only one way to find out.”

Sacrifice comfort for survival, right?

You take a deep breath. “O-okay. Where’s the check-in sheet?”

____________________________________

a/u: mental health has been a bitch to deal with so i’m sorry that this took longer than i expected. i have half a mind to scrap this and redo it again but i’ma do this funky fresh thing where i stop overanalyzing it and put it out there for y’all to read. still no beta, and still no al yet, but we’re definitely getting c l o s e r, got this bitch all planned out and everything. y’all know the deal by now: like, reblog, and comment; the engagement makes my lil queer kokoro go doki doki

tagged: @kryptum-one @itz-kira @peachesandkats (i’m in love with all three of y’all, just letting you know)

[iamsaha]

Friend

Finnegan pulled her skirt up to show off some more leg and undid an extra button to show more cleavage. She frowned. The expensive push-up bra she had gotten - after telling herself that it was a work expense - was extremely uncomfortable. As if every dollar she had sunk into it was eager to remind her that it should have been spent on something else. 

“Hey, Finn.” Roan came into the locker room, already in the process of tearing her shirt off. “Slow night.”

“Yeah? That’s good. Could use one.” Finnegan applied her lip balm, smacked her lips, and turned to face her friend. The brunette was massaging her own feet with a look of bliss on her face. “You alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine.” Roan smiled. “The night is slow but the day was packed. Especially this afternoon.”

“Lucky me then.”

“Yep.” Roan sighed as she got up to get changed. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Finn. We’re both working the night shift.”

“Goodnight.” Finnegan hugged her friend and left the locker room. The dark hallway smelled of fried food, alcohol, and a slight hint of the lemon-scented cleaning product used to clean the floors. It was a combination of smells that Finnegan had hated at first when she first started working at Buck’s but now, after five years, it was something she could think of fondly. She thought it was weird she could do that but she didn’t question it. It’s always nice to have something to think of positively. 

“Hey, gorgeous. Didn’t see you come in.”

“Well I didn’t want you to see me before I got all pretty.” Finnegan smiled at Cooper as he stuck his head out the kitchen door. “What do you think?” She twirled for him.

“You’d turn a gay man straight, Finn.” Cooper nodded approvingly.

“Well did I?”

“Nope!”

“Fuck you then.” Finnegan punched his shoulder and headed towards the main room. Roan was right. It was a slow night. She could count a grand total of ten customers in the restaurant’s fairly large main room. The majority, a loud group of five, weren’t even in her section. She watched for a second to see how they were treating the new girl, Shelly, as she dropped off their food. Their eyes wandered but that’s about it. Since adventurous eyes were encouraged in their workplace, Finnegan kept moving. As she passed them, one called out to her.

“How about you join us, sweetheart?”

“I’d love to but we’re not allowed to spoil our customers.” Finnegan winked at him. “Not too much anyway.” She lifted her skirt up to show off her thigh before letting it drop. That got her a cheer but otherwise the men left her alone. It was always risky pulling a move like that. Some took it as an invitation to get physically friendly. But most of the men at Buck’s were polite and knew what was allowed and what wasn’t. For the ones that didn’t, there’s a gentleman standing by the door that was very protective of his female coworkers.

“Good evening, sir, I hope you haven’t had to wait too long.” Finnegan said when she got to her first table for the night. “My name is Finnegan and I’ll be your waitress tonight. You can call me Finn.”

“It’s fine.” The man said. “Is Roan not in tonight?”

“Her shift just ended.” Finnegan frowned apologetically. “She your favorite?”

“I just had her a week ago, which was my first time here. I’m sure you can be my favorite.”

“I’m sure I can be.” Finnegan brightened up like he had just made her day and moved to stand by him, her hip resting against his upper arm. She put her arm around his shoulder and leaned over. “So what can I get started for you...?”

“Greg.” 

“Greg! That was my high school volleyball coach’s name. Had the biggest crush on him.” Finnegan said. “What can I get you, Greg?”

“Just get me a diet coke for now, Finn.” Greg said. “Haven’t looked at the menu much.”

“Well how about I suggest an appetizer for ya?”

“Sure.”

She leaned closer and ‘casually’ pushed her breasts against the side of his head. “Our chef Cooper makes the best mozzarella sticks. I don’t know what he breads the cheese with but I think it’s drugs. And the marinara sauce that you get to dip with is to die for. ”

“Then I would love some of those.”

“I’ll get that right out for you, Greg.” She started the order on her tablet and put in what he had asked for. She squeezed his shoulder and went to the soda fountain to get his coke. On the way back she greeted customers that had just been seated. “I’ll be right with you gentleman.” She winked at them and they smiled back. She made sure to sway her hips a little extra on the remaining few steps to Greg. “Here’s your diet coke, sir.”

“Thank you.” Greg took a sip of the drink. “I think I’ll have Buck’s Burger.”

“Fries or onion rings on the side?” Finnegan asked. “Or a mix of both for just a dollar extra?”

“Neither, Finn. Trying to watch what I eat.” Greg shook his head. “Shouldn’t have said yes to those mozzarella sticks.”

“Well since you’re being smart and taking care of yourself,” Finnegan said. “You want a turkey patty for that burger instead of beef?”

“Does it cost extra?”

“Buck fifty buuuuut,” Finnegan said. “I do love a man that takes care of himself.”

“Turkey patty it is then, Finn.” Greg laughed. “You’re gonna get every penny out of me, aren’t you?”

“Well not every penny. I do want you to come back.” Finnegan grinned. “Just as much as you wanna give me.”

“Fair enough, honey.” Greg handed her the menu. “Now get this outta my sight before I get tempted by the other things on there.”

“Your appetizer will be here in a second.” Finnegan took the menu, dropped it off at the hostess’ podium, and returned to the two men that had recently arrived. “How y’all doing? My name’s Finnegan and I’ll be taking care of you tonight. Call me Finn.” She said. “Or call me sweetie if that’s what you want.”

“W-w-we’ll call you F-Finn.” One man said, trying to seem like he wasn’t staring at her cleavage. 

“Booo.” She said playfully. “How about you, sir? Will you call me Finn too?”

“I’ll call you sweetie, sweetie.” The other man said. He seemed at least a decade older than the first. “Lighten up Mike. You just hurt her feelings.”

“Oh. S-s-sorry.” Mike blushed and looked down.

“Don’t worry about it, Mike. Call me whatever makes you comfortable.” Finn smiled and patted his back. “What can I get you two to drink?”

“Got any new IPAs?” 

“Electric Jellyfish.” Finnegan said. “Has a nice citrus flavor to it and our chef swears he can taste a hint of mango.”

“Two pints of that then!”

“J-j-just one.” Mike said. “I’ll h-h-have a water. With l-l-lemon.”

“It’s your birthday, Mikey. Come on.”

“I drove us here, Jake.” 

“Ooo responsible. Love it. Happy birthday, Mike!” Finnegan smoothly interrupted before Jake could argue. “A pint of Electric Jellyfish for one cutie and a glass of water with lemon for the birthday cutie. Any appetizers?”

“Y’all still have those crab cakes? I didn’t see it on the menu but I’m hoping anyway.” Jake asked. Mike looked pleased at being called ‘birthday cutie’. 

“Wow you’re a frequent customer aren’t you, Jake? Yes in fact we do still have the crab cakes. Secret menu item now.” Finnegan smiled. “How come I haven’t seen your smile around before?”

“Was out of town for a long while, Finn.” Jake said. “Came back just for my brother’s birthday.”

“That’s so nice of you, Jake.” Finnegan crooned. “Well I’ll get those crab cakes started and be right back with your drinks.”

“Enjoyin’ those mozzarella sticks, Greg?” She asked on the way to the bar. He gave her an appreciative nod and she winked in return. It was when Sal was pouring the beer for her that she saw that another man had been seated at her section. He was wearing a hoodie and seemed intent on keeping his hands in the kangaroo pocket in the front. On her walk back to Jake and Mike’s table, she noticed the new guest take a hand out for a brief moment. Finnegan thought she saw heavy bandages but the hand was put away just as quickly as it was brought out. “Here you go. Do you know what you want to eat? Or should I give y’all more time?”

“Some more time. Please.” Mike said. “Sweetie.”

“I think you’re the sweetie, Mike.” Finnegan winked. “I’ll be back in five.”

“How about sooner because we’ll miss you?” Jake grinned.

“As you wish.” Finnegan curtsied, being sure to tip her cleavage in Mike’s direction. Birthday boy deserved it. And she wanted to earn back the money she spent on the bra. Then, she walked over to her new guest. “Hello! Welcome to Buck’s. I’ll be your waitress Finnegan but please call me Finn. What’s your name?”

“Barry.” He said, keeping his head bowed but looking up at her from under the hood. 

It worried Finnegan that he was keeping himself concealed but his table was close to the entrance. When she glanced at Brent, he nodded his head subtly. Satisfied that she’d be safe she returned her attention to Barry. “Very nice to meet you, Barry.  What do you want to drink?”

“Water.”

“Just water? Not even a soda?” Finnegan smiled. “Our food goes well with sugary, bubbly drinks.”

“Water is fine.”

“Suit yourself, Barry.” Finnegan shrugged. “Any appetizers or do you need more time to look at the menu?”

“Time.” Barry said. “Please.”

“Sure thing, honey.” Finnegan smiled. “I’m a fan of those beer battered fish and chips you can find in the specials but I’ll get you whatever you ask for.” Instead of patting or squeezing his shoulder like she normally would have done, she tapped the table and smiled again. Before going to check on Shelly, she walked over to Brent. “Hey, baby.”

“Evening, Finn.” Brent nodded at her and gave the slightest of smiles. “How’s your sister?”

“Awww that’s so sweet of you to remember. She’s out of the hospital now. Trying to rest up but my new nephew isn’t letting her.” Finnegan said. “Keeps wanting his mama’s milk.”

“Glad to hear it.” 

“Listen. I know you already noticed but,” Finnegan lowered her voice just in case. “Keep an eye on the guy in the hoodie, will ya? I hate profiling him like that. But him hiding his face rubs me the wrong way.”

“You got it.”

“Thank you, Brent. You are the best.” She blew him a kiss and walked over to Shelly who was attempting to balance five drinks on a platter. “Oh sweetie here. Let me help you.”

“No no. I got it. I have to practice.” Shelly frowned stubbornly. “Thanks though.”

“If you say so. How’s your table treating you? Eyes only?”

“One put his hand on my ass.”

“Which one?” Finnegan tensed. “I’ll have Brent talk to him.”

“No no it’s okay. His friend hit him for me.” Shelly shook her head rapidly. “And it’s my fault anyway. I don’t know what’s too far and flirted with him a little extra.”

“Shelly. Sweetheart.” Finnegan sighed. “It is absolutely not your fault! You understand me? The rules here are simple. You flirt. You tease your body a little. But our customers are not allowed to grope you. They come here to look at something nice and get some extra attention while they eat good food. If they want to grope a woman they can get a prostitute or a stripper willing to bend the rules. Buck’s girls do not provide that service.”

“Okay, Finn.” Shelly smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I’m gonna go serve them now.”

“Remember, Brent is there for a reason. He’s our friend not our customers’.” Finnegan headed to Greg who had just been served his burger. “Well, Greg. How’s that burger treating you?”

“Treating me better than my ex wife.” Greg chuckled. “Wasn’t sure if I’d like the turkey patty but it’s damn good.”

“Well screw her if a patty is better!” Finnegan laughed with him.

“What’s that sauce on here? Never had anything like it.”

“Well that’s Buck’s secret! Even Cooper doesn’t know what’s in it and he made you that burger.” Finnegan said, then pointed over to a shelf situated next to the bar. On it were bottles of Buck’s Sauce. “You wanna take a bottle home with you?”

Greg looked over at the shelf, then pointed at the shirt rack next to it. “I’ll come back for the burger. But I think I will get myself a t-shirt. I should get the word out.”

“That would mean so much to me, Greg.” Finnegan grinned. “What size does a big strong man like you wear? A large?”

“Extra large, sweet heart.” Greg chuckled. “I wasn’t kidding about watching what I eat. I need to.”

“Oh hush you’re handsome.”

“I said I was fat, not ugly.” Greg winked. 

That got a genuine laugh out of Finnegan. “Truer words have never been spoken. I’ll drop the shirt off in a minute.” She squeezed his shoulder and walked over to Mike and Jake’s table. “Well, gentleman. Enjoying those crab cakes?”

Mike hurriedly swallowed. “Delicious!”

Jake took his time chewing and swallowing, but he did smile at her. “Just like I remembered.”

“Wonderful!” Finnegan said. “Are you ready to order your main course?”

“Yep.” Jake said. “Mikey go ahead and tell her.”

“Oh. Uhm.” Mike’s face didn’t blush when he looked at her but his ears did turn lobster red. “I’ll have Buck’s Spicy Chicken Sandwich w-with fries on the side. A-and Jake wants the Southerner Chicken Sandwich. With fries. Fries.”

“Two chicken sandwiches for my boys, coming right up.” She placed the order on her tablet, then smiled at Mike. “I like your tattoos, Mike.”

“Th-thank you.”

“He’s a tattoo artist.” Jake chimed in. 

“Really? That’s amazing!”

“I’m an a-p-prentice still.” Mike corrected. “Not official.”

“Well you’ll need to practice on someone then, right?” Finnegan asked. “Why not me?”

“You have tattoos?” Mike glanced at her pale hands and arms.

“Where they are is a secret.” Finnegan winked but she did pull her collar to the side, slightly, revealing a hint of ink. “Write your shop’s name down when y’all pay the bill. I’ll come and check you out. See if we can work out a design.”

“C-cool. Thank you.” 

“Told you coming here would be a good idea.” Jake grinned. “You just got a customer.”

“You sure did.” Finnegan squeezed Mike’s shoulder. “Alright I’ll be back in a bit. Need me to get a refill for that beer, Jake?”

“Yes, ma’am.” Jake got up, stuffing the last crab cake into his mouth. “Gonna head to the bathroom, Mike.”

Finnegan waved at Mike, winked at Greg as she passed him, and arrived at Barry’s table. “Well Mr. Barry. What can I get for you?”

“The fish and chips.”

“Sure!” Finnegan smiled. She noticed him peek at her before looking away. “No appetizers?”

“No. Thank you.”

“Suit yourself, Barry.” Finnegan shrugged. “It’ll be out in a little bit, alright?”

“Okay.” Barry nodded. “And a soda. Please.”

“Ahh changed your mind, did ya?” Finnegan said. “What kind of bubbly goodness do you want?”

“Dr. Pepper.”

“Man of excellent taste.” Finnegan gave him a thumbs up and patted the table. “I’ll be right back with that.”

She was getting that drink when Jake approached her. “Hey, Finn.”

“Hey, Jake.” Finnegan said. “Need something?”

“Just wanted to thank you for being so nice to Mike.” Jake said. “If you couldn’t tell, he’s a little awkward around women. It’s why I brought him here.”

“Well of course, Jake!” Finnegan smiled, leaning on the counter and facing him. “And he’s not that awkward. A little shy maybe. But it’s cute.”

“I’ve tried telling him that women aren’t scary but…” Jake sighed and shrugged. “Hopefully tonight helps a little.”

“I’m sure it will. I’m glad I can help.” Finnegan grabbed the fresh beer as Sal handed it to her. “And here’s that beer you wanted.” Finnegan watched him go, then headed to Barry’s table. “One Dr. Pepper for you, Mr. Barry.”

“Thank you.” Barry said. “Finn.”

“You’re welcome.” Finnegan said. “Anything else I can do for ya? You’ve got a good view of the tv so I can change the channel for ya, if you’d like.”

“That’s fine. I have my phone.” Barry gestured with his chin at his phone. The screen was filled with text. 

“Oooo what are you reading?”

“Wheel of Time.” Barry said, tone hesitant. “It’s a series by…”

“Robert Jordan.” Finnegan finished. “I haven’t read it but it’s on my list.”

“Really?” 

Though she couldn’t see his face that well, Finnegan was sure he looked shocked. “What? Can’t a pretty girl like me enjoy some fantasy?”

“You can. It’s just…”

“Surprising?” Finnegan laughed. “I know. I get it all the time. But I’m a fantasy nerd just like you.” She looked around then leaned over conspiratorially and whispered. “I’ve got a Brass Allomantic symbol tattoo on my waist. Do you know what that means?”

“Soother.”

“Yep!” Finnegan cheered. “Sanderson is an absolute genius, isn’t he?”

“He is.” Barry nodded.

“Well I’ll leave you to read. Don’t wanna get in the way of that. I know how annoyed I get when people interrupt my storytime.” Finnegan stood back up normally. “Your dinner will be here soon.”

“Thank you, Finn.”

Finnegan winked then went to grab an extra-large shirt for Greg. “Here ya go, Greg. And since you were being smart and taking care of your health, the shirt is on the house.”

“Really?” Greg beamed. “Can you do that?”

“Buck is flexible with his favorites.” Finnegan said. “And I’m his number one.”

“Seems like a great guy.”

“Only ones better than him are his customers.” 

“You’re never off, are you?” Greg laughed. “With the customer pleasing.”

“Oh Greg I am always on.” Finnegan winked. “Anything else I can get for you?”

“Well I want a milkshake. But I wouldn’t want to disappoint you so I’ll just have the check.”

“Yay! Good man.” Finnegan jumped in place and clapped her hands together, pretending to not notice the attention it got from him. “I’ll be back with your check. The t-shirt will be on there, for our own inventory purposes, but you’re not going to be charged. If it seems like you were, though, let me know!”

“Thank you, Finn.”

Finnegan headed to Jake and Mike’s table after grabbing Greg’s check and dropping it off. “How are you boys doing?”

“Well I’m doing great.” Jake laughed, putting his sandwich down. “How about you, Mikey?”

“G-g-good.” Mike sniffled. He looked as though he had been crying.

“Awww Mikey… I assumed you could handle spice since you asked for it.” Finnegan held back a chuckle. “We usually do a complementary slice of cake or pie for birthday boys but we can do a milkshake instead. It’ll calm your tongue down. Vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry?”

“Vanilla.” Mike sniffled again. “Please.”

“Oh wow I’m so surprised you picked vanilla.” Finnegan smirked. 

“Could I get a milkshake too? Chocolate.” Jake asked, watching her put in the order.

“You aren’t the birthday boy, Jake. You’ll be charged for that one.”

“Really?” Jake frowned exaggeratedly.

“Yep.” Finnegan frowned in response as a fake apology.

“Ah it’s fine. Bring me one anyway. Along with the check.”

“Sure! Be back soon, boys.” She walked over to Greg’s table and, when he caught sight of her, began dragging her feet in as slowly as she could without looking stupid. “Do you really have to go?”

“My dogs are waiting for me. So yes.” Greg smiled. “I had a good time tonight, Finn. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Give your pups extra belly rubs on my behalf.” Finnegan picked up his card along with the check. “And please do come back! Hopefully I’m the one that gets to wait on you.”

“I hope so too.”

After double checking that he hadn’t been charged for the t-shirt, Finnegan swiped his card. With his receipt printed, she returned to Greg’s table, once again walking as slowly as she could to it once they made eye contact. “Here you go, Greg. Drive safe.”

“Will do.” Greg said. “Listen. I know all the attention you give us and everything is part of your job. But it’s still really nice. And it feels authentic.”

“Wouldn’t feel right to me if I wasn’t being authentic, Greg.” Finnegan said. “It is my job. But I enjoy doing it.”

“I believe you.”

Finnegan hugged him from the side, once again pressing her breasts to his head, and walked to Barry’s table. “Mr. Barry.”

“Finn.”

“How are the fish and chips?” Finnegan asked. “As good as I promised?”

“Mhm.” Barry nodded. “Thank you.”

“I knew it! That’s what I always get when I eat here. Cooper is a genius cook.”

“I know.”

“You know?”

“He’s a friend.”

“Oh! Didn’t know that.” Finnegan raised an eyebrow. “Well that makes you family. Sort of. How come we haven’t seen each other before?”

“Been a long time since I came here.” Barry said after a few moments of silence.

Finnegan assumed it had something to do with the bandages he kept hiding. “Ah. Well. Good to have you back, Mr. Barry.”

“Good to be back.”

Finnegan felt she could get him to talk more if she pressed him but decided against it. “After my other two customers leave, do you mind if I join you? I can take my dinner break early.”

“Oh. Sure.” Barry looked up at her in shock and she caught sight of a scarred face. He jerked his head back down immediately. “If you want.”

“Dinner is more fun with company.” Finnegan said. “Want me to bring over any dessert for you to have something to eat while I do?”

“Apple pie. If you have it.”

“We sure do!” Finnegan patted the table then went to grab the two milkshakes that were waiting for Jake and Mike. Once she had those, along with their check, she returned to the boys. “Here you go! One vanilla and one chocolate. Happy birthday, Mikey!”

Mike grabbed his and began sucking on the straw immediately. Jake laughed. “He says thanks.”

“Thank you…” Mike added quietly.

“You’re welcome. Are you the type to enjoy people singing happy birthday or….” She saw the look on his face. “No. Gotcha.”

“Aw come on.” Jake threw his hands in the air. “You being uncomfortable is the best part.”

“Birthday boy gets to pick.” Finnegan put the check in front of Jake. “And birthday boy’s brother pays, right?”

“Right.” Jake sighed heavily. He took his wallet out and gave her the card and check.

“Aren’t you gonna look at the check?”

“I trust a girl that works for Buck.” Jake smiled. 

“Good policy. We’re the best.” Finnegan smiled back, then walked away to charge him. Despite her rush to get back to Barry, Finnegan checked to be sure Jake was being billed for the right items before swiping his card. Once that was done, she returned. “Remember. Write down your tattoo shop’s name, Mike!”

“I will.” Mike said. His milkshake was almost done.

“Careful! Don’t want you getting a brain freeze.” Finnegan patted his back playfully before giving him a pen to write with. “Alright then. You boys have a safe night, alright?”

“You too, Finn.” Jake said. “That’s what Brent over there is for, right?”

Finnegan laughed, gave them both a side hug, and grabbed the check from Greg’s table. She raised both eyebrows in surprise at the extremely generous tip he had left her before heading to the kitchen. “Hey, Cooper!”

“Hey, Finnegan.” Cooper didn’t look up from the burgers he was grilling.

 “Your friend Barry is here. I’m serving him.”

“Is he? Cool.” Cooper smiled. “Been convincing him for weeks. Don’t bill him, by the way. His meal’s on me.”

“You got it.” Finnegan nodded. “Any chance I can be nosy and you can tell me what he’s hiding?”

“No chance, Finn.”

“Ahh that’s fine.” Finnegan shrugged. “Tell me this though. Is he a good guy?”

“The best.”

“In that case, could you have some fish and chips sent over to his table for me? I’m taking my dinner break with him.”

“Little early for a dinner break, don’t you think?”

“Who’s gonna stop me? The only one here with seniority over me is you.” Finnegan pouted. “You gonna stop me, Coop?”

“Nope.”

“Love ya.” Finnegan said. “I’m gonna grab a slice of pie for him as well.”

“Help yourself.”

Pie in hand, she returned to Barry. “Either you’re not enjoying your meal or you’re a slow eater.”

“Slow eater.” Barry said. As if to demonstrate, he took a single bite out of a fry that was small enough for him to eat whole.

“I’m a vacuum.” Finnegan put his pie to the side. “Thanks for letting me join you.”

“Thank you.” Barry said. “Didn’t know that happened here.”

“There aren’t any rules against it.” Finnegan said. “Just as long as we don’t go past our break time. Also helps that you’re a friend of Cooper. Wouldn’t be comfortable doing this with a customer I don’t know.”

“You don’t know me.”

“I know Cooper though.” Finnegan winked. “A friend of Cooper is a friend of mine. He doesn’t make friends easily.”

Barry chuckled. “No. He doesn’t.”

“How long have you known him?”

“Since we were kids. Fifth grade.”

“Wow!” Finnegan exclaimed. “Only people I’ve been friends with since I was a kid are my parents.”

“I got lucky.” Barry said. “How long have you been working here?”

“Five years once we get to April 15th.”

“Congratulations!”

“Thank you. I love this job.” 

“Easy to tell.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re very enthusiastic and friendly.” Barry said. “Hard to fake.”

“Never underestimate a girl working customer service.” Finnegan laughed. “But you’re right. Only days I’m not genuine is when I’m not feeling alright. But if I’m good on the inside? Every smile you get comes from the heart.”

Their conversation mainly revolved around the various fantasy worlds they wished they could visit, if not live in. Even the dystopian societies had a draw to them due to the amazing magic that happened there. Barry seemed interested in anything that took him away from whatever was happening in his life. He never blatantly said it. But Finnegan could pick up on his escapist fantasies, perhaps because she could directly empathize.

“You’ve been here awhile.” Barry said, after the conversation lulled for a few moments. “You want to stay at Buck’s?”

“Saving up for grad school.” Finnegan said.  “If I get into the local school I’ll still keep working here though. Girls gotta eat, right?”

“And buy new books.”

“Yes, sir.” Finnegan smiled and tipped her glass to him. She then saw that a new group get seated in her section. “Well shit. Looks like my break is over.”

Barry looked over to where she was looking and sighed. “Ah. Okay. It was nice talking to you.”

“Booooo.” Finnegan pouted as she got up. “Only nice?”

“Great, Finn.” Barry laughed. “It was great. Could I get the check?”

“Nope.”

“...huh?” “Coop is paying for ya.”

“He doesn’t have to do that…”

“He wants to, silly.” Finnegan said. “Next time you come in, you can pay for his dinner.”

“Yeah. I’ll do that.”

Finnegan could feel his smile. “Elbow bump goodbye?”

“Elbow bump see you later.” Barry held his elbow out and she bumped it with hers. “Thank you for tonight, Finn. I really needed it. I hope to see you again when I come in.”

“You’re very welcome Barry.” Finnegan smiled at him. “And you will if you’re lucky.” They bumped elbows again and Finnegan watched him go. She sighed, stretched, and walked to the new group of customers. “Welcome to Buck’s, gentleman! I’m Finnegan, you can call me Finn, and I’ll be your waitress tonight. How y’all doing?”

-Saha

[mingiswow]

Soulmate!au Series | Hyungwon

Pairing: Hyungwonx female reader

Summary: Soulmates were marked with matching tattoos when born, but you couldn’t stop thinking about the fact that yours were something so vague as lips.

Words: + 2.2k

a/n: hey sweet cheeks, here’s another part of the soulmate series. I’m loving to write them so much and, so far, Hyungwon has been one of my faves to write. Hope you like this one and please help auntie Bruna and like, reblog and/or comment. Feedback is always welcomed. Love ya

You liked your job, you really did, it paid your bills after all. But there were days that everything seemed too much for you to handle, especially when the hotel received famous people that’d leave the rooms upside down for you and your partner to clean.

It was 4AM when you left the bus, saying your usual goodbye to the driver, and walking slowly through the street, enjoying the quietness before the storm of cars, bus, people and construction. You walked past the hotel, greeting the security before heading to the back of the building, doing the same path you did every day before getting to the changing room.

“Morning, babe cakes” Martha, your coworker and partner greeted you, her usual smile on her lips. “You heard about who’s coming today?” her voice muffled from her uniform on her head.

“Morning. Yeah, heard that they are some international singers, but not much more than that” you took your clothes off, folding them neatly and storing in your locker.

“Hey! Your tattoo is shining!” the woman spoke, getting closer to you and gently touching the drawing on your chest. “There are even the flowers blooming around! Do you think you’ll meet your soulmate soon?” your eyes trained to the spot, the reddish lips indeed glowing as the cherry blossoms grew around, closing the tattoo inside a heart-shaped frame.

The legend says that every human being in the world was destined to someone and those who two souls would connect through their complementary tattoos, placed on the left side of their chest, right on top of the heart. When your true-one love is close, the marks took a neon coloration, as they seemed to shine, and little flowers would grow around it, signaling the bloom of a new life. You never understood how they worked since they were complementary, not matching marks. Your mark could match with anything minimally related to lips, it could be a lipstick, some food, an instrument, musical notes. It could be so many things.

“It’s what it looks like” you simply said, covering the tattoo with your perfectly-white t-shirt. “Besides, you know I don’t have time to date or whatever right now. I have to work, study and take care of my dog” your coworker laughed.

“Oh, come on! You need to accept that one day you’ll meet them and God knows what you’ll have to do about it” you rolled your eyes to her.

Shaking away those intrusive thoughts about your future, you two finished putting your uniforms before heading to the kitchen to have breakfast with your other coworkers from that shift and start cleaning the rooms.

Being a maid in a hotel wasn’t what you dreamed for your life, whoever, you liked that place and the people who worked with you. You always had a great time with those people, especially Martha, who became like a mother to you since you were so far away from your own. When you left your hometown to go to the capital to try to become a model, everyone was against you but you decided not to listen to them and follow your dreams. It didn’t turn out very well, yes, you did a few photoshoots here and there, but it wasn’t what you imagined. But still was better than nothing.

The morning seemed to crawl as slowly as a slug. A weird pain on your body like someone was pinning your voodoo doll, especially your heart, but you decided to let it aside, it was probably just anxiety since you couldn’t take your conversation with Martha out of your mind and she wouldn’t shut up about your future lover and how they’d look and be.

“What if they are some royalty? Or what if they are some rich CEO?” she kept speculating about as she neatens up the wrinkles in the bed cover. “What if they are the homeless in the street? Would you love them anyway?” you simply rolled your eyes at her hypothesis, letting her speak alone. 

It was about midday when your boss called you through your intercom. She seemed a little… exalted. You looked over to the woman as a plead for her to not let you go, but she couldn’t do a thing. You left her and the room you were cleaning behind to meet your boss at her office. You just wished no one complained about you and your services, you had a dog to raise.

You knocked on the door three times before you could hear some laughs and the woman speak with her usual happy and deep voice telling you to enter.

“Excuse me, Miss. Did you c-” your heart stung as you stepped inside the room, making your best effort to not let the pain show.

“Y/N? Is everything okay?” the concern in her voice made you look to the floor, embarrassed for some reason.

“Yes, just a little pain but I’ll be good. Do you need me?” you recomposed yourself, your eyes meeting seven gorgeous men. Not any seven random men, but Monsta X members. Your heart started racing, your eyes never leaving them. You probably were making a fool of yourself. Your ultimate group was in front of you and you were all messed up from working, smelling like sanitary water and disinfectant.

“Oh yes, darling” the middle-aged woman clapped her hands. “This is Monsta X, but you young people might know already” she giggled excitedly and nodded to her, bowing to them as a greeting. “They are going to use our master suite for a photoshoot. Is everything clean there, sweetie?”.

“Yes, Martha and I just finished. I believe they can start taking the equipment and props to the room, miss” you answered trying to ignore the growing pain in your chest. You felt like you were about to fall, you couldn’t feel anything but the aching pain in your heart. Trying your best to hide the pain in your face, you bowed before leaving the room. 

Your heart felt like leaving your chest, thumping hard, muscle against bones against muscles. Never in your entire life you felt such pain. It wasn’t bad though, it was just a sensation you had never felt. It was almost warm, welcoming. You decided to let it all go and go back to your work, it wasn’t time for you to daydream about those feelings.

You watch warned you and Martha that the morning shift was over and you were free to lunch, your stomach growling inside you.

“What do you have today?” your coworker asked sitting by your side and spying on your packed lunch.

“Just a sandwich, I’m not very hungry” you lied. You didn’t have much food left at home, and the money that you earned this month was already gone with the bills. Your stomach growled again and the woman looked at you, eyebrow raised form your lie. It wasn’t the first time that happened.

“Y/N… You need to stop lying to yourself” you looked over the triangular bread, it barely had some jelly on it. “You didn’t get any modeling work this month?” you denied, stuffing the dry bread on your mouth.

“It’s hard to get some when you have no agency and don’t look fancy and rich like the others” you sighed, looking over to the woman. “Nobody wants to hire me because I’m a nobody, I have nothing left, Martha, no food, no money, no family, it’s just me and Mong” Martha’s arms wrapped you in a tight hug, helping you through your tears.

“I’m so sorry dear, I wish I could help but you know that I have children on my own” you nodded.

“You don’t have to, you’re not my real mom” you kept crying on her embrace as the pain in your chest kept growing.

“Y/N” the voice of your boss startled you and you turned around to meet her and the boys again. “It’s everything fine?” you nodded, wiping the tears away. 

“Can I help you with anything?”.

“You’re a model, right darling? The girl hired by the boys called it sick and now they need someone to be their model” your eyes sparkled, was she saying what you were thinking she was saying? “Can you do this? I wouldn’t ask if I didn’t know you are good at it” you smiled, both from happiness and nervousness.

“Yes, I sure can do” you lifted yourself from the chair and look at your state. “I just need a shower first” your cheeks reddened and, if it was possible, your chest seemed to hurt even more.

You quickly ran to the dressing rooms, taking a shower and making sure to take all that cleaning products’ smell out of your body, put on the clothes you arrived earlier. 

You had never seen that suite so full of people and things. And, look, there were rock stars staying there. Cameras, scenarios, backgrounds, props, lights. It all made you more nervous than you already were. You were going to model. With your ultimate group. Smelling like cleaning products.

“Hello” you spoke, calling the people attention to yourself. You were sure that your chest was going to rip it open. “I’m Y/N… The new model” your voice sounded hesitant. Great. They were going to think you were unprepared. A woman came close to you and circled around your body, eyeing you up and down, before stopping in front of you.

“Let’s start with the leader” she simply said, a plain tone in her voice and no facial expression at all. Soon enough there were at least four people around you, putting on the clothes and making the adjustments for them to fit, doing your makeup and hair. “Are you ready, sweetie?” the woman came back, a camera on her neck, as she guided you to the first background, Shownu already positioning himself.

“Hi” you greeted him, bowing a little bit to the huge man standing in front of you. He smiled, greeting you back.

You two took enough pictures for a lifetime and it was just Shownu. As time was passing by and you were getting more confident on your poses, interacting with the leader, taking more intimate pictures.

“Ok, who’s next?” the photographer asked, seeing a very handsome Hyungwon lift his hand. You thought you’d never see him getting more perfect. But at that moment, with him in flesh and bones in front of you, wearing those flowy clothes that made him look with nothing but an angel, you were sure that you’re entire life was a lie. Hyungwon could get more perfect. “Great. Guys, dress Y/N up for Hyungwon concept” and soon again the stylists were around you again.

If for Shownu you were looking fearless and sexy, for Hyungwon you were ethereal. Your hair was curled to perfection, falling down your shoulders, they even put on some clip-on extensions to make it look longer and fuller. Your makeup was glittery, shades of light blue and pink perfectly mixing together. But nothing compared to your two-piece dress. The top was shoulderless, making your collarbones and soulmate tattoo show up, the sleeves were as flowy as the boy’s own shirt, a beautiful shade of off-white. The skirt was long, a long tail following behind. You looked like a princess angel. You were feeling gorgeous.

As you took your steps closer to Hyungwon, the chest pain started to increase, causing you to almost fall, your vision getting blurry.

“Ahn… What is going on?” Changkyun asked, looking over to both you and Hyungwon. “It’s what I’m thinking?” you didn’t have time to ask what he was thinking when a strong body grabbed yours and dragged somewhere.

Your pain started to warm up your whole body, and suddenly it wasn’t pain anymore. It became a soothing sensation like you were home in front of a fireplace and wrapped in a warm blanket.

You slowly opened your eyes to finally see what was going on. The sight got you by surprise. Your hands were wrapped around Hyungwon ones, a tiny red string tattooed around your ring finger as well on his, Your soulmate tattoo shining as bright as ever, a new design added to it: a green straw between the lips. Your eyes trailed from your chest to the boy’s one. Under his shirt, you could see the silhouette of the same tattoo glowing.

You blinked several times, not believing that. Destiny was motherfucking crazy. 

“They’re soulmates” Wonho stated the obvious, his mouth hanging open, as well as everyone else. 

“I…” the words didn’t leave his mouth, he was as surprised as you. “Hm… Hi… I’m Hyungwon” he shook your intertwined hands, his eyes fitting yours. 

“I’m Y/N and I think I’m your soulmate” Martha squealed behind everyone and you all turned to her.

“OH MY GOD, Y/N! YOUR SOULMATE IS YOUR BIAS!” she screamed genuinely happy for you, your cheeks and ears burning red when he turned his eyes back to you.

“No words about that right now” you said. “I need to first digest the idea that I just met my soulmate and Gosh! You’re gorgeous” he chuckled at your sudden confession.

“If I can say so myself, you as gorgeous as me… soulmate” the words felt beautifully from his lips and it all felt like a dream.

You two lifted from the ground and his arms instantly hugged you, your chests touching your tattoos, the warmth radiating from it felt like home and the phrase “home is where the heart is” never felt more right in your life.

He left the embrace, his hands gently touching your cheeks, caressing them before bringing his face close to yours to finally kiss you and seal your future together. 

Shownu | Wonho | Minhyuk | Kihyun | Hyungwon | Jooheon | I.M

Requests are open

Masterlist

[lgbtyrus]

this storm knocked out our wifi but I can finally post this! thank you @swingsetboys for organizing this!

happy valentines day Kate @homosexualearthworm!!! I was super excited when I saw that I got you because you’re one of the coolest people on this website! Writing this for you was fun even if I couldn’t figure out a plot to save my life. 

So have some large amounts of Tyrus, extremely bitter tarty exes, some angst, and sprinkles of bandi all set in an AU where they’re around 25ish, TJ is a librarian, and they live in a city.

Words: 4,526 

Pressed Flames

Putting in his bookmark that was just really a polaroid of him and his ex-boyfriend, TJ closed the book he was reading and looked up to see who the front bell had made noise for. The library in their city was barely busy, but there was always the soft vibration of whispers and the smell of pages that made it feel like a money-making lucid dream.

The man entering smiled at him before walking off again into the history book section for the third time that month. If he did the same thing he did last time, TJ was going to have to look up their library’s policy for checking out books. The main librarian was out for the month, and he had no way to contact her over “a man who checks out 15 books a week.” If the weekly limit wasn’t 15, TJ was sure he’d take more of them.

TJ surveyed the library. Two twin girls that were in middle school were sitting on the red bean bags by the teen lit section, an old couple were looking through history archives, and a mom and her two little kids were looking around. TJ smiled at the little kids who were on their best behavior, looking over at TJ in fear every time they said a word too loud. TJ would wave them off with a smile, and they’d go back to trailing behind their mom like little duckling.

The people in the library that day made TJ miss his hometown where his twin sister and mom were. The man who had a thing for checking out a million books a week, had a cute smile that reminded him of ex-boyfriend while still managing to trap TJ in a bubble that said, “Look at me only.”

TJ went back to his book, waiting for anyone to go up to him. Managing a library alone with a coworker here and there was surprisingly easy, so his freaking out about the main librarian leaving him alone for a month was in vain.

“Hey,” the man placed a stack of thick history books on the counter, startling an unsuspecting TJ to the point that his polaroid fell down to his feet.

“Hey,” TJ looking down at the floor, his ex’s smile taking over the photo before looking up at the man who was giving him the same smile.

“I’ll be back with more,” the man took a deep breath, placing his library card on the counter before walking away again.

“O-okay,” TJ nodded, the man already not being able to hear him. TJ bent down to pick up the polaroid and stuck it back into his book. He picked up the library card and for the first time, looking at the name.

Cyrus Goodman

He’d remember that. He started checking out the books, placing them in a neat pile before Cyrus came back with the rest to complete the 15. Cyrus quietly waited there, not saying a word to TJ like always. TJ felt like asking him what he was doing with so many textbook-like novels. None of them were even from the same era, but by the time he was done checking out the books, he still didn’t know how to ask a question.

TJ handed back the library card and told him, “Here ya’ go. Have a nice day.”

“Thank you,” Cyrus smiled, his eyes moving to the name tag pinned on his shirt, “TJ.”

“No problem,” TJ said, watching Cyrus take the large tower of books outside the library door. He turned over to look at the twin girls who were giggling, sinister smiles that reminded him of his twins glowing from across the room. They had been watching whatever spectacle that was the whole time. He simply rolled his eyes and went back to reading, the smallest of smiles resting on his lips.

-

Cyrus closed the passenger car door, leaning back in the seat as Buffy turned on the car.

“Did you talk to him?” she asked him.

“I just got his name,” Cyrus frowned, clicking his seatbelt. “I even purposely made two trips and left my library card with him, so he’d have a chance to look at my name.”

“Did he?”

“I don’t think so,” Cyrus sighed, leaning his cheek on the car seat, looking out the window to the old brick building, shadowed by the new complexes in the city. “You’d think that he’d ask me by now why I need all these books.”

“You’d the think the library would’ve called the cops on you by now,” Buffy laughed, pulling out of the parking space she technically wasn’t supposed to be in. “You officially have 45 books.”

Cyrus turned to look at one of his best friends, “Hey, I’m only doing this for you and Andi. Usually, I wouldn’t care if the library thought I was a weirdo checking out all these books at the same time, but you happen to want to start Operation Propose to Andi at the same time there’s a cute new librarian.”

“Gertrude Millers isn’t there anymore?” Buffy asked him.

“I haven’t seen her, but her photo is still up,” Cyrus said. “She’s probably just taking time off.”

“I should go in and try to check books out, too,” Buffy joked. “I doubt your librarian lover has seen the list of people who are banned.”

“First off, his name is TJ,” Cyrus told her, his nose burning red, “second of all-,”

“TJ Maxx?”

“Buffy,” Cyrus whined, making her giggle, “second of all, you’re going to have to do that without me. I’m not trying to get arrested for sneaking in a felon into the library.”

“You accidentally burn a section of the library and suddenly you’re a criminal,” Buffy smirked. “That happened like, 10 years ago.”

“9 years ago,” Cyrus corrected her, “but Gertrude has impeccable memory.”

“She’s going to outlive me and personally spit on my grave before they burry me,” Buffy joked, “you can count on it.”

“How did Andi fall in love with you again?”

“I’m really funny,” Buffy smirked. “Also, pretty romantic. Who else would’ve come up with this idea of pressed flowers?”

“Me,” Cyrus said, “only I’m never going to get married, so you can claim the idea as 100% yours.”

“I guess you did contribute,” Buffy smiled. “Anyways, who knows, that TJ guy could be your soulmate.”

“You’re only so optimistic because you already found yours.”

“Damn right I did.”

-

It was Friday again, and TJ was waiting for Cyrus to walk through the doors again.

He was reading a different book now, same bookmark. His twin sister would be heavily disappointed if she knew he still had that photo. He had burned everything from his ex with her before he moved out into the city to start going to school again. The polaroid was in a book he had left half read, and he didn’t discover it until he started unpacking. Amber had done most of the work when burning the things the first (and second, third, and fourth) time, and he couldn’t bring himself to throw it away. If Amber hadn’t blocked Marty for him on all of his social media accounts, blocked his number, and deleted his phone number that she knew he’d never remember again, TJ was really sure of the fact that he would’ve sent him a photo of the polaroid saying, “Look what I found :-),” on Snapchat.

TJ fumbled with the polaroid between his thumb and index finger as he read, blurring out the people in the library. One of his coworkers was walking around, fixing things on shelves, so he exactly set on people watching that day. He was just watching out for one person.

Then Cyrus came in, and gave TJ a wave, making his heart race in his chest. He felt like his leather jacket was rising up and setting down with every pound of his heart. TJ gave him a smile and quickly moved his eyes back down to his book as Cyrus disappeared into the science section of the library. He had already cleared out the big books from the history section, and TJ knew that his coworker was going to watch this average height man somehow carry a large stack of books in one trip.

After 20 minutes or so, there was a pile on the desk, and Cyrus’ voice asking, “Who are you reading?”

“Michael Nava,” TJ answered stiffly, setting his book open on the counter. “Can I see your library card?”

“Yeah,” Cyrus said slowly, carefully eyeing the open book as he took out his wallet from his jean pocket. He handed it to him, and TJ quickly began scanning the books.

“You like his Henry Rios stories I’m assuming,” Cyrus asked him, trying to make conversation.

“Did you sneak in an extra book?” TJ asked him, a smirk on his face.

“What?” Cyring furrowed a brow. “Why makes you think that I’m a criminal?”

“I mean,” TJ laughed, “you come in here every week and check out 15 big books, and you never make conversation. Luckily for me, the computer tells me when you’ve hit 15, so I don’t have to count.”

“I’m honestly just trying to make conversation with you,” Cyrus defended himself, a cheeky smile on his face. “Checking out all of these books is a long process.”

“Tell me about it,” TJ smiled, typing away on the computer. “But if you wanted to get extra books, I could override the system for you and get you an extra 10.” He had read the library guidelines. They were ancient and there was no limit to how many books Cyrus could have in total. Just fifteen a week with exceptions to scholars. Gertrude didn’t have to know.

“Maybe next week,” Cyrus said, getting his library card back, once again eyeing the open book. “I don’t think I can fit them all in my friend’s car.”

“See you next week then?” TJ asked.

Cyrus nodded and picked up the tall pile of books, “Next week.”

-

“He’s gay,” Cyrus said as he shut the door to Buffy’s car for the fourth time that month.

“Did he tell you?” Buffy raised a brow as she started the car again.

“He was reading a Michael Nava novel.”

“King.”

“Not only that,” Cyrus sighed, leaning his head back, “he had a polaroid of his boyfriend as a bookmark. I can’t even get mad,” Cyrus groaned. “That’s super cute.”

“I want to see how he looks like,” Buffy said as she pulled out of the parking lot, Cyrus hurrying to put his seatbelt on.

“He’s cute,” Cyrus sighed, “like, really cute.”

“So I’ve heard,” Buffy laughed.

“He said he could get me an extra 10 books if I needed them.”

“So, he flirted with you?” Buffy raised her eyebrows.

“I hope not,” Cyrus said.

“Yeah you do.”              

“Buffy, please,” Cyrus turned to look at her, a frown set, “that would be really unethical and inappropriate considering he has a boyfriend.”

“Give him your number.”

“Stop it!”

“Ask him if that’s his boyfriend.”

“Buffy!”

-

TJ tapped his fingers on the counter impatiently. All he does is look forward to Friday’s now simply because Cyrus would go in to check out a ridiculous amount of books. He didn’t even know how he was going to return them all one day. He still didn’t know what they were for and as he rolled on his twin-sized mattress in his studio late at night, he fought over the idea of asking him.

Even if Cyrus wasn’t gay either, it would be nice to make some friend. He had made a few acquaintances in his classes, but a lot of the people were four or more years younger than him which made him feel a standoffish. He cursed Marty for making him want to move so far away from everything he loved- for holding him back.

“Hey, TJ,” Cyrus walked in, a big Ross bag at his side. “I’m going to take up the offer for the extra 10 books,” he said and disappeared right into the science section again. TJ felt like every time he blinked, he missed him. He looked around the rest of the library at that moment. The same twin girls were watching him carefully and there was a couple of high school boys looking through movie archives in the back. They had all taken a liking to TJ and always liked to fill him in with cheesy high school drama that reminded TJ a lot of his hometown. City kids were strange, too, he guessed.

Cyrus came by with the first few books and set his library card on the desk, “No book today?”

“My eyes and head have been hurting, so I’m waiting on my glasses to come in,” TJ admitted, scratching the back of his head with one hand as he reached over for the card.

“I have never seen you with glasses,” Cyrus commented, a smile on his face.

“Exactly why eyes and head have been hurting,” TJ laughed it off, starting to check out the first book. Cyrus simply let out a small chuckle before going back to retrieve more books.

He came back and set the remaining amount on the desk, TJ typing away on the computer, “This is last time bothering you with all these check outs.”

TJ stopped typing for a split second before continuing, gulping as he asked, “Why is that?”

“I have enough books,” Cyrus told him. “Finally.”

“I’ve never asked you,” TJ tried to sound as casual as he could, “why have you been checking out all these books?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” Cyrus grinned, making TJ smile a little. “My best friend is proposing to our other best friend, and we all like pressing flowers here and there to sell phone cases and necklaces and stuff, so she’s going to fill this room full of pressed flowers and write ‘marry me’ out of them.”

“She?”

“They’re gay,” Cyrus shrugged.

“Ah,” TJ nodded and somehow let the words slip out of his mouth, “same.”

Cyrus gave him a grin and asked him, “The guy in the polaroid. Is that your boyfriend?”

TJ’s eyes went wide open and he shook his head as quickly as he could, “Nope. Never.”

“Oh,” Cyrus shifted a little where he was standing.

“Anyways,” TJ did a fake yawn, “when is she proposing?”

“Valentine’s Day.”

“That’s in two months,” TJ said as he eyed the calendar in the corner.

“We know. We have to be extra prepared.”

“Also, did you really need this many books?” TJ asked him.

“Well I mostly listen to audio books, and my friend Buffy can’t take her and her future fiancée’s library down without her noticing. Obviously, we turned here,” Cyrus said. “Also, we’re going to need a lot and a lot of flowers.”

“Well,” TJ handed him back his library card. “Good luck.”

“Thank you,” Cyrus smiled at him. “Also,” Cyrus said as he started putting the books carefully in the bag, “I’ve been meaning to ask if you’re from around here?”

“I am not,” TJ shook his head. “I’m from a small town called Shadyside.”

“How’d a farm town kid end up in Oak City?” Cyrus asked him.

“School,” TJ said. “I’ve been putting it off for a while, and I finally decided to come to Heartland U.”

“Go pirates,” Cyrus smiled. “What’s your major?”

“Child development.”

“Nice,” Cyrus smiled. “If you want, I can give you my number, and we can hang out if you ever get lonely.” TJ couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He stood still for half a second before jumping back into reality.

“Uh, yeah,” he nodded, looking around the desk for a sticky note and pen. “That’d be great.” He handed them to Cyrus who wrote down his number for him.

“Here you go,” Cyrus slid it back over to him. “See you later, TJ.”

“Bye, Cyrus,” he nodded softly at the other man. When Cyrus was out the door, TJ’s eyes immediately went to the source of background giggling. The twins were smiling, and he couldn’t help but smile back at them.

He took out his book from under the counter and without hesitation, threw Marty’s polaroid in the trash to replace is with Cyrus’ number.

-

They had been texting back and forth for a week, and TJ hadn’t felt so warm in such a long time. He finally got the motivation to build the frame for his bed and decorate his kitchen with random things from Marshall’s that Amber had bought him. It was a nice feeling to go home to study and sleep in a place that felt a little homier. Cyrus was planning on organizing a hangout soon so he could meet the rest of his friends.

Then a Tuesday night, at 2AM, TJ got a phone call. It was an unsaved number but seeing as he was still half asleep and his eyes couldn’t translate the numbers to his brain, he answered.

“Hello?” TJ yawned.

“TJ,” someone frantically said on the other line, “please don’t hang up! Please listen to me.”

“Marty?” TJ’s heart dropped, this time to his stomach, and it instead of butterflies, it created one of the most nauseating feelings he had felt in a very long time.

“Yeah, it’s me,” Marty choked, sounding as if he was about to cry. “TJ, I’m so sorry. God, I’m so sorry.” TJ felt like he was in a state of déjà vu. He had heard this before. He had heard this same sob story over four times.

“He’s going to keep using the same lines because they always work,” Amber told him as she burned the first love letters Marty gave him in a camp fire. “That’s why the next time you hear them, you have to stop listening, TJ. He doesn’t love you. He just needs you.”

“Marty,” TJ sat up in his bed, looking out at the window. It was pitch black and not even the moon could offer comfort as it hid away in the darkness of the city. “Save it.”

“T-,”

“Don’t you get tired, Marty?” TJ asked him, a deep frown on his face as the conversation aged him. “I did. We didn’t work out, Marty. It’s been taking me so long to get over you, and I think I finally am. Please just leave me alone.”

“8 years, TJ,” Marty reminded him, sobbing on the other line.

“We broke up 10 months ago, Marty,” TJ ran his hair through his fingers, pulling on the top of his scalp. “If you really love me, Marty,” TJ sighed, letting his hair go, “never call me again.”

TJ hung up the phone and laid back down, immediately rushing his hands to press on his eyes, trying to stop himself from crying over him again. He had a good four-month streak of not crying, but he guessed it’d be a good time to break it. He turned over on his stomach as his phone continued to ring, and he screamed into his pillow over and over, muffling out the sound as much as possible as he let the phone ring. He wished he could’ve recognized at least the area code number. He would’ve known. He knows he wouldn’t have answered.

The ringing stopped after who knows how long, and TJ didn’t even remember falling asleep. But when he finally felt a brief moment of peace, it got shattered as his phone started ringing again. Furiously, he sat up and answered the phone in a very brief and fuzzy moment.

“Can you stop fucking calling me before I block you for good?” TJ yelled at the other line. His chest was icy from how exhausted he felt, and he could feel the wetness brim the corner of his eyes.

“TJ?” Cyrus answered. TJ’s eyes landed on the rising sun outside the window, the pink skies decorating Oak City as he realized his mistake.

“Oh god, Cyrus, I’m so sorry,” TJ muttered, trying to remember how to form coherent sentences.

“No, I’m sorry,” Cyrus said, “it’s like, 5 in the morning and I woke you up.”

“Wait, what’s wrong?” TJ asked him, trying to shove all his memories of Marty to the back of his mind. Her wished Amber could’ve set those on fire, too.

“I was going to ask you for a huge favor, but I don’t think this is the time.”

“My ex called me at 2 in the morning, and it upset me,” TJ told him bluntly. “It’s nothing life changing. What can I do for you?”

-

“So, you’re TJ?” Buffy shook his hand as Cyrus finished setting down the last few books in his studio.

“The one and only,” TJ smiled, shaking her hand back.

“Look, I know we’re just strangers, but I really appreciate this a whole lot,” Buffy told him. “Andi has almost seen these books about twelve times, and our other option bailed on us.”

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” TJ told her, looking at the piles of books set neatly against the wall. “I like the old page smell.”

“You’re a real life saver,” Cyrus said to him, grinning widely. TJ felt his cheeks grow rosy and from the corner of his eyes, he knows Buffy smirked.

“I’m just hoping this gets me an invitation to the wedding, honestly,” TJ joked.

“Oh, you’re definitely coming,” Buffy smiled before checking her watch. “Cyrus I gotta get to work soon. We better leave now, so I can drop you off.”

“I’ll take a taxi,” Cyrus told her. “You’re already late, I know it.” Buffy smiled and said her goodbyes before rushing out the door and closing it behind her.

“I can take you,” TJ offered.

Cyrus turned to look at him and said, “No, it’s alright. You’ve already done so much. You should really go back to sleep.”

“I’m not going back to sleep after all that happened in this span of four hours,” TJ chuckled. “I’m wide awake for my 8AM. Let me take you,” he insisted.

“Fine,” Cyrus smiled.

“Coffee first?”

“Please.”

-

“So how long were you and your ex together?” Cyrus asked him as he sat across from him, stirring his coffee.

“8 years,” TJ said, staring down into his own drink. He looked up when he heard Cyrus gasp. “On and off, though. Like, a lot. Maybe there’s like two years’ worth of months that we were fighting somewhere in there. I’m over it. I’m way over it.”

“Is that why you came here to Oak City?” Cyrus asked him. “To get away?”

“Yeah,” TJ nodded. “I wasn’t doing anything back home besides small work here and there. Nothing important. Now here I am, helping secure a future gay wedding. My mom would be so proud of me.”

Cyrus laughed, “I bet. Buffy really appreciated that you’re keeping the books. Like, a lot. We tried both my place and another friend’s place but living in the same complex gets tricky.”

“I bet,” TJ smiled. “If her proposal is like this, I can’t wait to see the wedding.”

“Me, either.”

-

Cyrus knocked on TJ’s studio door on the night of February 14th, asking, “Hey, TJ? Are you home?” Cyrus didn’t bother calling before going over anymore. He knew TJ’s schedule by memory and showed up whenever he wanted, sometimes with Buffy and Andi (who didn’t question who a librarian had so many books), sometimes with more people, sometimes alone. They immediately adopted TJ into their friend group, and TJ felt like Oak City was his home now. Cyrus made everything better with his smile and intuitive knack for comedy. He definitely had a crush on him, and he didn’t know what to do with himself sometimes.

“Coming,” TJ rushed to open the door. He flashed a smile at the shorter man a smile and said, “Hey, Cy, come in.” Cyrus walked in and hastily handed TJ over a book and box of chocolates tied together with a ribbon.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” Cyrus said, TJ looking wide eyed at the blushing man.

“Cyrus,” TJ whispered setting down his present on the kitchen counter, “thank you.”

“I’m sorry if you think it’s weird,” Cyrus started apologizing, “I can totally take it back and pretend it never happened.” Without saying anything, TJ walked up to Cyrus and hugged him, wrapping both of his arms right around him. Cyrus stood still for a moment before hugging him back.

“Happy Valentine’s day,” TJ whispered. “You’ve done so much for me, honestly.”

Cyrus pulled away slightly and looked up at TJ, a smile on his face, “I’m really glad we chose to go to Little Red’s Library.”

“Why?” TJ gazed down at him, his eyes studying his features for the millionth time since they became friends. He’s never had him this close up, and he was sure Cyrus could heard his happy heart beat at that proximity.

“Because,” Cyrus smiled, making TJ’s breath hitch slightly, “I got to meet my favorite librarian.”

“I really want to kiss you right now,” TJ caught himself blurting out.

“Then do it,” Cyrus told him. TJ gave him a small grin before bending down to kiss Cyrus, moving one hand up to cup his face.

“Wow,” TJ whispered, placing another firm kiss on his lips, “I’m so glad I moved here.” Before Cyrus could kiss him again, his phone started ringing, and he frantically pulled away.

“Oh man, it’s Buffy,” Cyrus started jumping around excitedly. She had been in the process of proposing for the last few hours. TJ, Cyrus, and her worked on the proposal project for eight hours straight one weekend.

“Answer it!” TJ urged him. Cyrus answered the Facetime call and when they showed up, all they saw was Andi’s hand and a ring.

“I did it!” you could hear Buffy on the other line.

“Congratulations!” TJ told them, waving behind Cyrus.

“I feel like I’ve been waiting for this moment for almost two decades,” Cyrus smiled, putting his hand over his heart, “I’m so happy for you two.”

“Thank you, Cyrus,” Buffy smiled, turning the camera to them.

“I can’t believe you all managed to keep this from me,” Andi laughed.

“Team work makes the dream work,” Cyrus winked. “Let me know when you guys start planning!”

“Probably next month,” Buffy shrugged, “I don’t know. What are you guys up to.” Both Cyrus and TJ instinctively bit their lip and Buffy raised a brow, smirking at Cyrus as TJ walked away from the camera’s view. “I think I got it. Happy Valentine’s day you two.”

“Happy Valentine’s day,” Cyrus smiled before hanging up. He put his phone away and looked over at TJ who was looking at the new Michael Nava book he had bought him. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah,” TJ nodded before walking over to him, and carefully pulling him in, “but I think I like you a lot more.”

“I know I like you a lot more,” Cyrus smiled before standing up on his tippy toes to kiss him once more.

[missjanjie]

Branjie Fic - Hold Me Closer, Tiny Dancer - (1/?)

[gib-mir-gift]

Bands As Things I Have Heard People Say

1) Slipknot

- "GOD, I'm depressed."

- "Hey! Hey, you! FUCK YOU, BABY!"

- "I love you so much I wanna punch your teeth in."

- "I'm tired."

"Go to sleep."

"I cannot."

"Okay."

- "Hug me."

"I'm already holding the weight of everyone's sins, how the fuck do you think I'd manage holding anything else?"

"Please?"

"Dammit... SORRY, GUYS! I'M HUGGING MY BOYFRIEND NOW!"

- "I either wanna hold a hand, get fucked until I bleed, or take a nap and I can'T TeLl WHIcH ONE IT IS SO BARE WITH ME, FELLAS."

2) Ghost

- "I will kiss you, bro! I will fucking do it! Come here, bro! Let me kiss you, bro! BRO!"

- "Remember to say 'hello' to my dad when you go to Hell."

"Who's your dad?"

"The guy with the red skin, horns, and legs of a goat. He's like, seven feet tall. Can't miss him."

- "I'M GONNA KILL SOMEONE AND USE THE FACT THAT I AM GAY AS AN EXCUSE. WHO WANTS TO BE MY ACCOMPLICE?"

- "Oh, I'm sorry. Do you want me to fuck it better? French kiss you 'til you forget about the pain? Maybe replace that pain with a different kind?"

- "I AM NOT GAY!"

"You literally just kissed that guy after calling him cute."

"... Dammit... I'm totally gay, then!"

3) Hollywood Undead

- "I ain't gay but hoLy SHIT you're lookin' like a whole sNaCC today, man."

- "I did coke in the bathroom and now the fire alarm won't stop."

"The fire alarm isn't on?"

"Oh, no." (Said nonchalantly) "Must be Them, then."

- "I hate everyone here but I also wanna have sex with everyone here. It is a cruel, cruel world."

- "Yes, I am high. Do I care?"

"No?"

"Actually, I do. I gotta test in, like, five minutes."

- "Some bitch just bumped into me in the hallway and gave me this slip of paper with some sort of code on it. Like, bitch, do I look like a fuckin' nerd?"

"... That's a phone number. She wants you to call her."

"What? Oh, well, in that case..." *throws the number away* "I'm a loyal boyfriend and I'm not going to fuck around."

- "Dude, why's there a pink pom-pom on your keys?"

"They're my girlfriend's keys. She's making me hold them until she gets done taking a test."

- "I wanna die, but I also wanna live to see all my enemies and coworkers die."

"But... Then we would all die."

"Exactly. I'm gonna out-last all you fuckers."

4) KoRn

- "My daddy issues aren't the only things making me a submissive, but they sure are a big fuckin' reason."

- "Do you ever just-" *screams*

- "Did I put enough accents on this?" *spelled their name with half the letters backwards, the others have a dash over the vowels*

"No."

"DAMMIT!"

- "Who wants to see me drink this ketchup?"

"I'll pay you five dollars to drink it."

"I'll kiss you if you drink it."

*drinks it all in one gulp* "That was disgusting. Now give me my money."

- "Ya know, my band kicks ass, but we also kiss ass. We hate the people we're talking about, but love the people we're talking to."

- "FUCK I love my hair but FUCK I hate everything else about me."

- "Who needs Religion when you have a cool aesthetic?"

"You run the Bible Study at the Church."

*fumbling for an excuse* "Bible Study is my aesthetic."

5) Mushroomhead

- "I love my house."

"This is an old barn from 1910 that hasn't been touched since 1937."

"You talk shit about my house again and you won't be invited over for the next tea party."

- "I hate pop and yet it's the only thing my stupid galaxy-ass brain can think of when someone asks me a question about music."

- "BITCH, YOU BETTER RUN!"

"... Why aren't you chasing them?"

"Too lazy. Besides, these are new jeans. I'm not gonna ruin them by running around in the dirt."

- "I finally managed to go say 'hello' to a girl today!"

"Oh, really? Who?"

"My mom."

"Dude... I meant a girl you aren't related to..."

"Darn. Well, does your wife count?"

"... No."

- "HAHAHAHA! What makes you think I know anything about what I'm doing? I'm just livin' life as it goes, man. I'm just as, if not more, confused than you are."

[mermaidssonshipss]

The Assistant - Part 1

Hello lovies! So first off I’d like to start off by saying this isn’t the usual kind of assistant imagine; in this one, Harry is the assistant! Also, I’m giving the girl a name in this one just because it’s a longer one and it makes sense to have a name to refer to! You can change the name if you’d like, or not. All up to you! Also, this is going to be split into 2 parts because there’s… a lot. There will be smut in both parts!

Warnings: Smut & Language & alcohol(?)

Word Count: 4,610

“Sorry is not enough, Amy. Do you understand what you may have just done? I have overlooked your silly, incompetent mistakes for months now because they could easily be fixed, but this, my dear, is messing with my company’s revenue. The money we make to keep everyone here, including you, employed,” her voice was laced with fury as she spoke slowly, the quietness of her voice only making her seem more intimidating as she leaned over Amy’s desk, placing her hands on either side of the unopened laptop in front of Amy.

As per usual, Harry’s gaze wandered over the curve of her ass and he couldn’t help but wonder how firm it would feel under his hands, but the thought of his large hand splayed over it caused him to clear his throat and focus on the pug mug Amy had settled on her desk to clear his mind of any improper thoughts. She was his boss, for crying out loud, but he couldn’t deny that over the past 6 months he’d been working for Whimsy, he had tugged one out to the thought of her an embarrassing amount of times. He figured tonight would be another one of those nights, because the sight of her bent over a desk, angry, was something that never failed to work him up.

By the time Harry had snapped back to attention, Amy was almost crying and Whimsy was, as expected, fuming, which was Harry’s cue to step in.

OR Whimsy’s new assistant Harry is a wonderful addition to both the company, and Whimsy’s life.

Whimsy’s eyes fell upon the tall and well-built boy who was sat in the waiting room of her works building, just waiting for him to be called into her office. Her eyebrows immediately shot up as she continued to scan him as he relaxed back in his chair, his large hand currently swallowing up the small phone in it. While he was going to be her new assistant, this was her first time seeing him; her former assistant, Huntlea, had interviewed him and had the final decision on who she felt fit the company best. Huntlea had gotten pregnant with her 2nd child, and her husband and her both agreed they would rather raise their children outside of the city, causing them to move 4 hours away from Whimsy’s office in New York City, therefore creating the need for a new assistant.

“Harry Styles?” She announced, her voice strong as she stood tall at the entryway, her black stilettos causing her to stand at a good 5’10, her usual height being around 5’5.

Whimsy was young, and she was a spit fire who ran her business with an iron fist but who also sympathized with her employees when it was necessary. At the young age of 20, she was thrust into the position of CEO of Smith’s Marketing Company after her grandmother had died, leaving the business to her. It wasn’t a surprise to anyone that the business was going to be left to her, but it was a surprise at how soon it had happened, but she accepted it with grace and poise. She was now 22, and the business was doing better than anyone had ever expected under her new ownership.

Harry stood up from his seat quickly and his eyes landed on her and he instantly did a double take, his heart rate picking up as he scanned her over. She was gorgeous, and the tight black pencil skirt that was currently hugging her ass perfectly was making it hard not to ogle at the young woman standing before him as he approached her, his hand outstretched.

“It’s lovely to meet you, Miss. Smith,” his handshake was firm, as was hers, both letting it linger longer than a normal handshake would before pulling away.

“And you as well, Mr. Styles. Please follow me into my office,” she promptly turned on her heels and began leading the way to her office that was at the end of the hall, Harry’s eyes shamelessly watching the way her hips moved in her skirt as he trailed behind her.

They entered the large office and Whimsy made her way behind the deck, taking a seat in her cozy chair as she gestured for Harry to sit on the couch that was placed in front of her.

“First we’ll start by discussing salary, which I’m sure Huntlea touched on just a bit but there have been a few changes,” she grabbed a packet of paper and flipped through it, quickly reaching the salary pay and sliding it across the desk with a pen, “Due to your qualifications, I’ve decided to up your salary a bit, so instead of the 40k a year Huntlea and you discussed, you’ve been jumped to 55k. Every six months you will be rewarded a salary raise based on your performance. We never cut salaries here; if you aren’t doing a satisfactory job, you get fired.” Harry nodded as she spoke, his eyes scanning over the paper before quickly signing it and sliding it her way. “Thank you, Mrs. Smith. For the salary raise, and for the opportunity to be your assistant,” he sent her a calm smile as he sat up straight on the couch, his eyes watching her lips quirked up on a soft smile.

“You’re very welcome, Mr. Styles. Now, as for the job, don’t expect it to be like normal assistants. I don’t expect you to fetch my lunch or my coffee or any of that; the second you accepted this job, you became as important to this company as I am. You’ll be helping me talk to big clients, making big deals, and in general keeping me organized. Do not be afraid to speak up; I want your opinions, and I want to know if you think something I’m doing isn’t a good idea, I won’t be offended,” Harry nodded along as she spoke, his green eyes staying on hers, holding confidence, and what was soon turning into fondness as she continued to speak.

“Now,” she continued, sitting up straighter in her chair as she placed her hands on her desk intertwining his fingers, “I’m young, Mr. Styles. I’m sure you know this. In fact, you’re a year older than me, but that does not mean I am a push over. I am not just some rich snob who was handed everything; yes, my grandmother gave me her business, but she had two other grandchildren to choose from, and she chose me, the youngest, for a reason. Do not cross me. Do not try and betray me; I’ve already had one assistant try that, and now there is no company in New York City who will hire her. Do not try to take advantage of my age, because you will not like the outcome; do you understand?” Harry’s eyes were wide as she spoke, his palms beginning to sweat; he had no intention of do anything but his job, but hearing her speak with such confidence was intriguing.

“I understand. Wouldn’t dream of doing anything other than my job,” he replied back, and Whimsy only nodded in response.

“Huntlea chose you for a reason, so I do hope you live up to both of our expectations.”

Harry had exceeded everyone’s expectations.

After being at the company for only six months, it had become clear that not only was he what was best for the company, he was also what was best at keeping Whimsy sane. Harry was nothing short of the model employee; getting his work done, helping Whimsy with hers, and remaining professional, unless, of course, Whimsy and him were alone. Harry quickly learned that both got along well not only as coworkers, but as friends, and when it was just the two of them, Whimsy had no problem with them acting like it. In fact, Harry was the only person in the office who was ever allowed to use her first name, but of course when no one else was around. To everyone in the office, she was Miss. Smith the CEO, and he was Mr. Styles the assistant, but between them they were quickly becoming best friends.

Whimsy’s eyes were slanted into a hard glare as she looked at the screen of her laptop, the email she was currently reading causing her blood to boil as she went over every word; one of her employees had made an amateur mistake, but it was an amateur mistake that if not fixed immediately, would cost them 100k.

“V’ got the coffee, love…” Harry stormed into Whimsy’s office, kicking the door shut behind him but quickly stopping in his tracks as he saw the look on Whimsy’s face; she was pissed, to say the least. He knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, but he was worried for the person who was about to be on the receiving end of her wrath. In the six months he’d been working with her, he had seen her lose it on two employees (who were promptly fired) and he had felt like crying when she was done with them each time, even though he had been sat on the other side of the room each time.

Whimsy lifted her gaze from the laptop screen up to Harry, her eyes softening as she saw him standing in the middle of her office with coffee in his hand and an unsure smile on his face. “Told you for the past six months you don’t have to grab my coffee, but thank you,” she said, sending him a tight smile as he approached her and handed her the coffee. “Go to get myself coffee, pet. Would feel like a proper dick if I showed up without anything for you,” he walked up behind her, his hands landing on her tense shoulders as he looked over her head, reading the email that was the cause for her deathly glare as he had walked in.

The feeling of Harry’s hands on her shoulders instantly caused the tension running throughout Whimsy to dissipate as she relaxed back into his touch, her eyes closing as she focused on her deep breathing.

“Do ya wan’ me to take care o’ this, love?” The pet names rolled off his tongue easily when it came to her, and he often found himself struggling to keep them in when others were around. The first time he had referred to her as “love,” they had been working late in the office one night, surrounded by Chinese takeout as Whimsy was about to have a full-on breakdown. He wasn’t thinking about it as it rolled out of his mouth as he pushed the Chinese away from her and tried to calm her down, but she didn’t snap at him or scold him for it being unprofessional, so he kept saying it. Soon, he could notice a small twinkle in her eyes whenever he used one of the many pet names he had for her, so he decided to keep using them.

“No,” she shook her head, letting out an exasperated sigh, “This isn’t the first time she’s messed up, but it’s the first time it might affect our revenue. Need to get her to fix it, and I need it to be fixed now,” she shrugged his hands off her shoulder and he took that as his cue to step back, knowing she would be standing up soon, ready to confront the coworker in question.

She was always wearing those god damn tight skirts, which was the first thing he noticed as she pushed back from her chair and stood, tossing her long, wavy ponytail over her shoulder and straitening said skirt out.

The entire floor went quiet the second Whimsy and Harry stepped out of the elevator, everyone’s eyes watching Whimsy as she made her way across the room. It wasn’t hard for the office to gauge when Whimsy was angry; instead of stepping onto the floor with a smile on her face and greeting every employee she made eye contact with, she was dead silent and walked with a purpose. Her stilettos echoed through the silence as she approached Amy’s desk, Harry trailing behind her with his hands shoved into his suit pant pockets.  

“Amy,” Whimsy’s voice was calm as she spoke, but if eyes could reflect fire, hers would currently be up in flames.

Amy caught Harry’s gaze first before she flickered her eyes over to Whimsy; she knew exactly what she had done, she had gotten an email the second she sat down in her office chair.

“I’m so sorry, Miss. Smith; I got the email this morning and I am doing my best to try and fix it,” Amy rushed, her eyes pleading with Harry as she spoke; the office knew Harry was the only one who could calm Whimsy down, but Harry only raised an eyebrow at Amy as he leaned against the wall near her desk, crossing his arms as he slowly chewed on the mint gum in his mouth, a slight smirk playing on his lips as he waited for Whimsy to speak. Costing the company money was serious, and he wasn’t planning on intervening.

“Sorry is not enough, Amy. Do you understand what you may have just done? I have overlooked your silly, incompetent mistakes for months now because they could easily be fixed, but this, my dear, is messing with my company’s revenue. The money we make to keep everyone here, including you, employed,” her voice was laced with fury as she spoke slowly, the quietness of her voice only making her seem more intimidating as she leaned over Amy’s desk, placing her hands on either side of the unopened laptop in front of Amy.

As per usual, Harry’s gaze wandered over the curve of her ass and he couldn’t help but wonder how firm it would feel under his hands, but the thought of his large hand splayed over it caused him to clear his throat and focus on the pug mug Amy had settled on her desk to clear his mind of any improper thoughts. She was his boss, for crying out loud, but he couldn’t deny that over the past 6 months he’d been working for Whimsy, he had tugged one out to the thought of her an embarrassing amount of times. He figured tonight would be another one of those nights, because the sight of her bent over a desk, angry, was something that never failed to work him up.

By the time Harry had snapped back to attention, Amy was almost crying and Whimsy was, as expected, fuming, which was Harry’s cue to step in.

“Miss. Smith,” he spoke, his voice causing Whimsy to push herself off of Amy’s desk and look over at him as he approached her, his hand landing on her shoulder softly, “Why don’ ya’ go back to ya’ office and start contacting the businesses involved, I’ll help Amy try and fix this,” he squeezed her shoulder lightly as she pursed her lips, thinking over his proposition before eventually nodding her head.

“Fine, but if this isn’t fixed by the end of the day, you’re fired,” her stare was back on Amy as she spoke before she sent Harry a final nod and began to walk back to the elevator. The office was quiet the entire time, just waiting for the elevator doors to close before they all let out the breaths they were holding in.

“Thank you,” Amy breathed, blinking her eyelashes up at Harry as he looked down at her, a tight line adorning his lips.

“Only did it so she wouldn’t get more stressed than she is, had nothing to do with you. V’been fixin’ your mistakes since I got here, m’ not fixin’ this one.”

The problem was not fixed by the end of the day, meaning it was now midnight and Whimsy was about to rip her hair out. Her heels had been chucked across her office long ago and her long hair let down from the tight ponytail it had been in all day. She was sure her head was going to explode anytime soon, and all she wanted to do was relax with a bottle of wine and go to sleep.

A knock on her office door brought her out of the daze she was in, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion as she had thought she was the only one in the office. “Come in,” she called, her voice hoarse from the lack of use it had endeared the past few hours, not including the few screaming matches she had with her laptop. The second the door opened and she saw Harry standing on the other side of it, she could feel her entire body relax, a small smile gracing her lips as she spotted a bottle of wine in each of his hands.

“Figured you’d still be here cause ya’ weren’t answerin’ ya’ bloody phone,” he made his way across the office, and Whimsy noted that he was now wearing a pair of skintight black skinny jeans and a large, comfy tan knit sweater, “Started to worry me, pet,” he sent her a pointed look and all she could do was sheepishly smile, “But then I just called ya’ loft and they informed me you still hadn’t come in fo’ the night, so I knew you were here. Figured you could use some wine right about now.”

“I’m sorry I worried you, but also I’m not because it got me wine,” she stood up and walked over to him, her hands grabbing onto the fabric of his soft sweater and tugging it softly, “Looks comfy, I’m jealous,” she pouted, and Harry looked down at her with an amused expression as she sighed; it was always funny to him how short and small she truly was when her heels were off, but he loved it.

“Let’s get some wine in ya’, and you’ll start feeling cozy too, hopefully,” he placed both bottles on her desk and quickly opened one up (he had brought his own wine cork, because the last time he showed up to her office with wine, neither of them had a wine cork and it was a disaster trying to get the damned thing open), grabbing a glass from her desk and filling it up, handing it off to her before filling his own up.

For the next few hours they both sat on the floor of her office, papers and her laptop in front of them as they worked until they physically felt like they both were going to explode.

“Fucking finally,” she breathed as they had eventually resolved the issue, setting everything back to where it needed to be. She threw herself back onto the floor, sending Harry a large, wine drunk smile as she looked up at him, which he quickly reciprocated, leaning down next to her on his side and propping himself up on his elbow to look down at her.

“Told ya’ we’d be able to fix it, pet,” both were tipsy, but not enough to hamper their judgement or cause them to not remember anything tomorrow.

“I like when you call me pet,” Whimsy spoke softly, one of her hands reaching up so she could trail her finger along his cheekbone, “Like when you call me anything actually, except for Miss. Smith,” her nose scrunched up, causing Harry to laugh as he caught her wandering hand in his own, holding onto it, “Makes me feel like I’m old. Like I’m my grandma, not that there’s anything wrong with her, she was a lovely woman but I’m young,” she rambled on, her cheeks heating up from the warmth that was spreading throughout the hand that Harry was holding. “Mmhm,” he agreed, his eyes trailing along her body, lingering at the waistband of her skirt longer than they should, which Whimsy was quick to notice, but she didn’t see the intention behind the lingering stare.

“It’s uncomfortable,” she whined, referring to the skirt which took Harry a moment to catch onto before he was sending her a smirk.

“Take it off then, love,” his voice was deep and slow as he spoke, the alcohol running through his veins clearly catching up with his mouth. He expected her to swat at him and tell him to screw off, something he was used to when he would flirt with her, but instead she jumped up and began unzipping the back of the skirt, causing his eyes to widen, “Shit, love.. I was kidding,” he spoke frantically as he sat up, but he wasn’t sure if his heart was racing because his boss was about to take her skirt off in front of him or… well, that was truly the only reason.

“I knoooow,” she huffed, struggling with the zipper before her eyes lit up in victory as she yanked it down, “But it was a good suggestion. So, I’m listening, because this stupid thing has been annoying me all day,” she was now tugging it down her thighs, and Harry couldn’t help the audible groan he let out as her red lace panties came into clear view, and he knew if she turned around he would finally have a perfect view of her ass. Soon the skirt was pooling around her ankles and the tight fitting white button up she had tucked into it was falling loosely around her hips.

In that moment, Harry was thanking god the only light in the room was coming from her laptop and the city lights that were streaming in through the wall in her office, which was just glass, or she would be able to see the clear bulge that was now straining against his pants. He let out a huff and stood up slowly, realizing he really had to get them both home, their own homes, or he was going to lose it. Except when he turned to face her again and saw her leaning against her desk, he knew he was fucked.

“Thank you for helping me tonight,” she spoke, breaking the silence as she watched him, her hands resting on her desk as he walked up to her, his hand coming up as he captured his bottom lip between his thumb and pointer finger, tugging on it lightly.

“We should probably get home, kitten,” if Harry had been paying attention, he would’ve noticed the way Whimsy clenched her thighs together as the pet name kitten rolled off his tongue; it was the first time he had ever used it on her, and she wanted to hear it again.

“Kitten, hm? That’s a new one,” she reached out for his sweater, as she had done when he first got there, but this time she was tugging him towards her, causing him to stumble over his feet and his hands to catch onto her desk on either side of her hips, “Think I like it the most.”

“Is that so?” His lips were now dangerously close to hers, both of their breaths mingling; Harry wanted to kiss her in that very moment, but he knew the second they kissed things would change. Both of them could feel the tension in the room, and it was clear by the way Whimsy was currently wrapping her bare legs around his hips and pushing him in-between her legs that she didn’t want to ignore it.

Without thinking it over, his lips attached themselves to her jaw, slowly making their way down her neck until he heard her take in a sharp breath as he came across her soft spot. His lips quickly puckered around the skin, sucking it into his mouth as his hands moved to grip onto her hips, pressing his bulge into her now wet core. She let out a quiet whimper as he grinded against her clothed center, her hands slipping under his sweatshirt and trailing over his defined chest, causing him to bite down on the skin harshly before he traced his tongue over it to sooth the sting. Harry wasn’t sure exactly where any of this was going, but the second she moaned out his name, he couldn’t stop his hand from slipping into her panties and quickly flicking over her clit before tracing down her slick walls.

“Harry…” she whimpered, causing him to release the skin of her neck, his eyes now moving to where his hand was working against her center, watching as her hips grinded into his hand. He pulled away for a moment, his eyes watching hers as he rolled the sleeves of his sweatshirt up before moving his hand back to her and slowly slipping a finger inside of her tight cunt, his eyes squeezing shut as he felt how tight she was around his finger before he slowly slipped another inside of her. She was absolutely drenched, making it easy for him to quickly move his fingers in and out of her at a pace that had her back falling against her desk as her breathing picked up, not so quiet whimpers leaving her mouth as he skillfully applied pressure onto her clit with his thumb.

“Ya so fuckin’ wet, kitten,” he groaned, watching his fingers move in and out of her core, each time coming out even slicker than before; he could feel her clit throbbing under the pressure of his thumb, and the sight of her withering underneath his hands as she chased her orgasm against his fingers made him wonder what she would look like as his mouth was on her. Both of his fingers curled inside of her, dragging along her walls slowly before applying continued pressure onto that one spongy spot inside of her, causing her back to arch off her desk as she called out his name.

“Fuck, Harry… fuck m’ so close,” she was an absolute mess underneath him, but Harry wasn’t done with her, not yet. The second he saw her legs start to shake he quickly removed his fingers from inside of her, causing her to let out a distressed cry, her eyes flying open and quickly widening as she saw him slipping the fingers that had been inside of her into his mouth, his tongue lapping up her slickness.

“Do ya mind if I properly taste ya?” His hands were already curling around the edges of her panties, just waiting for her to give him permission. She nodded her head quickly, a chorus of “yes’s” leaving her mouth, causing Harry to smirk as he dragged her panties down her legs and got down on his knees, leaving him eye level with her dripping core.

He slowly dragged a finger over her sensitive clit causing her to take in a sharp breath, but nothing prepared her for the feeling of his lips sucking the sensitive nub into his mouth. His hands were on either side of her thighs, pushing them apart as he traced his tongue across her entrance, quickly dipping inside of her cunt causing him to moan against her. Whimsy’s hands flew to the hair on top of his head, quickly grabbing onto the strands and yanking on them softly as he dragged his lips back over her clit, sucking on it until she was seeing stars. His fingers quickly found a home inside of her cunt once again, his mouth never once letting up on her swollen nub. She couldn’t do much but whimper Harry’s name and tug on his hair, but that seemed to be enough to spur him on. He had never seen a more beautiful sight, and he was sure in this moment he could spend forever between her thighs, watching her wither and struggle to catch her breath. The combination of him sucking on her clit and pounding his fingers into her wet cunt mercilessly was enough to send Whimsy over the edge, her mouth opening against a silent cry as her legs began to tremble as she released around his fingers, struggling to blink the white spots in front of her eyes away as she caught her breath.

“Harry,” she whined as he continued to work her through her orgasm, her hands trying to push him away from her oversensitive clit, causing him to smirk against her. With one final kiss to the sensitive nub, he pulled away, the sight of his chin now covered in her release absolutely sinful as he repeated his actions from earlier and placed his fingers inside of his mouth, licking them clean.

“Reckon I should call ya kitten more,” he commented as he wiped his chin off on the back of his hand, causing her to let out a breathless laugh. He was quick to gather her panties off the floor and slide them back up her legs, helping her sit up so he could slide them over her ass.

“Thank you,” she whispered softly, stepping down from her desk on wobbly legs and Harry was quick to place his hands on her hips to steady her, sending her a smirk that had her melting once again.

“My pleasure, kitten.” What the hell had they just done?

[rvnjun]

single!dad taeyong

genre: fluff! warnings: none a/n: like I said, I love aus. single!parent aus are some of my favorite. I hope you guys enjoy this!

Taeyong was the proud dad of a little girl 

she was his life, he didn't know what he would do without her 

her made sure that she got to do many things

she was in dance, top of her class

he went to every single recital of hers

he always picked her up on time

he bought her almost everything she wanted

“dude, you’re spoiling her too much,” Johnny said one night making Taeyong question everything 

he acted like he had everything put together but he was constantly on the verge of a mental break down 

it was stressful, he worked 2 jobs and had to raise his daughter all by himself

his friends would worry for him

they started to mentioned that maybe he should get a nanny

but he couldnt afford that

when they brought up dating he immediately shot the idea down

he was still heartbroken from when his daughters mom left him

it did a lot of damage on him 

“you need to go on dates,” his daughter started totease

taeyong would simply laugh and tell her that he is perfectly fine

he was surprised the first time she mentioned it 

after hearing his daughter say that a few more time he started to think things over

maybe it was best for him to try and find a significant other

what happens when he was younger was tragic but there was plenty of fish in the sea

he did want to get out there again 

he did work a lot and his daughter was probably lonely and craving for attention 

“you need to make yourself appear more interesting,” his daughter said while he set up his dating profile

taeyong started to laugh at all the things she began to put 

“astronaut, super cool, can juggle 3000 balls at once, makes great pasta,”

“hey, i cant lie,” he said while gently pushing her and deleting what she wrote

she burst into a fit of giggles and watched as he attempted to get out into the scene once more 

after a week or so of talking to a nice girl he met up with her at a nice diner

it didn't work out so well

she was actually engaged but was taking a break from her fiance

taeyong attempted to meet with someone again

but kept missing

he always met up with his dates at the same diner

you were apart of the waitstaff there

you watched with amusement everytime taeyong came in with a new girl

at first you thought he was player, he really looked like he could be one

and the few times you served him he seemed like possible douche

it wasn't until he came in with his daughter one day and she started to make fun of him for not finding a partner that you realized what was going on

while his daughter was heavily eyeing a stuffed toy out in the machine, you approached his table

“ya know, you should stop forcing yourself to go on dates for your daughter. I understand you want her to have another parent around but sometimes you need to put yourself first,” you said while filling up his drink

once done you went to the machine where his daughter was and put some coins in so she could play

“thank you so much,” she said while giggly and trying to win an animal

“Of course,” you smiled softly at her

she was adorable and you always wanted to have your own kids but you never found the right person  

taeyong stared at you as you walked away

he smiled when he saw you help his daughter 

then he thought back to your words

he really didn't know what to say

you were right, he wasn't happy constantly going on dates, it was a waste of money and he wasn't going to find someone at this rate

taeyong couldn't get you out of his head

he had actually taken interest in you the minute he first saw you

you were one of the main reason why he kept going to the diner, he wanted to catch a glimpse of you 

he left the diner that night with a full mind

after some thought taeyong agreed that he would go on one last date before giving up

once again he met up at the diner 

he sat at the table and waited for his date to show up

you both kept looking at eacother

taeyong was nervously sipping on his water

time kept passing by and no one was entering 

you watched him with careful eyes

you couldn't get him out of your head

something about him was pulling you in 

“boss may I clock out early? we aren't busy,” you asked with a sweet smile

your boss went ahead and let you off early

without really thinking you immediately sat down at taeyongs table, catching him by surprise

“what are you doing?” he stuttered 

“no one was showing up so I figured id enjoy a meal,” you shrugged your shoulders

taeyong smiled at your actions

“well , im already ready to order since i've been looking at this menu for an hour or so. Let me know when you're ready,” he said making you laugh

“I work here,” you pointed out while closing the menu right away

one of your coworkers came over and took your order

you and taeyong started to talk about many things

inclduding his daughter and how he became a single parent

“It was a one night stand, we tried to make things work but it was a toxic relationship. After she had the baby she left me a note saying she was leaving and I could have our kid,” taeyong said making you cringe

“thats horrible! you deserve so much better, you're such a nice guy, how come your dates keep on failing?” you asked curiously

taeyong blushed light pink

he wanted to say that it was probably because they all noticed him staring at you the whole time but he chose not to

“i don't know, guess i'm bad at it,” he said making you think

he didn't seem like he was bad at it

taeyong looked at the time beofre feeling bad

“I,,I have to go, I need to pick my daughter up from dance soon,” he said while cleaning up the table area

you nodded your head, not really wanting this night to end

you had really enjoyed spending time with taeyong

he seemed to be feeling the same way

“hey,,actually,,,would you like to do this again?” he asked feeling hopeful

you looked at him with wide eyes before smiling brightly “id love too,” you said happily

taeyong smiled, he laced his arm with yours and walked you out to your car

“Thank you for a nice night taeyong, even though it wasn't planned,” you said giggly and sitting in your car

taeyong nodded his head ”Thank you for joining me,”

he slowly walked away and gave you a bashful smile while waving 

[shoephoneweasley]

Why I Can’t Sleep Tonight #8

This is the first time I’ve been on my laptop in so long. I miss the simple days when I used to spend all my time on here just typing away. I miss typing so much. It’s almost two in the morning and I have to be away by 4:30 a.m. but I just really needed to type, ya know?

I hate that I think so much at night. It’s such a hassle.

Back in July, I had decided that it was time for me to move back to Mississippi. I thought to myself that I just can’t afford to live in Orlando anymore since I don’t have a car, and as much as I love working at Universal, the bullshit I deal with on an almost daily basis is just too much to handle. So I told all my friends here, my coworkers, my family and friends back home, that I planned on moving back to Smithville in February of 2019.

I had it all planned out too. I was going to move in with Tyler and our friend Scott. I would work on getting a job somewhere it was easy for me to get back and forth from. But more importantly, I would be near my nephew Joshua, who is my absolute pride and joy in this crazy ass world.

Before I had decided to move back, I had already planned on taking a week’s vacation to visit home and just enjoy the country life. I really thought I missed it and I was just so so very excited to head back to Mississippi for a week and see everyone. After deciding to move back, I couldn’t wait for my vacation so I could plan my move back home.

I was home for nine days, but the first three days made me realize I had made a terrible mistake.

The first incident: Long story short, Tyler and I messed around last year when I visited home in August. He made it very, very, VERY FREAKING CLEAR that he wanted to mess around again this time when I was home. He would literally text me eggplant emojis and my stupid ass fell for it because... well... I’m stupid. And then when it was night and we were getting ready for bed and I was ready for... whatever... he just up and decided “Eh, nevermind, I’m good.”

It took me awhile to realize he was literally just doing this to be an asshole because he knows that I kind of like our friend Scott, and Scott is kind of into me as well. Scott is total gentleman and I would be the luckiest girl ever to end up with him. But Tyler is a FUCKING ASSHOLE and decided to ruin the whole thing. I just... nah, I’m not living with him after that realization.

The second incident: I fell through the floor of my parents house. The floors were very, very weak, and I stepped on a soft spot and went right through the floor. As I laid there with one leg touching the ground, all I felt was Mississippi laughing at me and telling me that I don’t belong there anymore.

The third incident: Not really an incident, but more of an observation. Without a car, I’m literally stuck in house all day against my will unless a friend wants to go somewhere. If they don’t, I am screwed. My mom won’t let me drive her car. She wouldn’t even let me take it down the street to get something from Dollar General. Boredom doesn’t even began to explain half my time being couped up in that house because I had nothing to do and no one to see.

The fourth incident: I love my family, but I no longer fit in with them. Not that I ever did, but it was easier to pretend back then. Now... not so much.

A few years ago, I came to the realization that I’m bisexual. I like men and women. It’s not a phase. I pretty sure I’ve known this since I was little (I’m talking like five years old at least) but I never acted up it because I was always told that it was wrong. However, living in Florida for a little over three years now has slowly changed how I see and accept things, and I choose to accept my bisexuality and new looks on life.

My family does not.

I’m not telling them about this not because I’m ashamed, but because 1. it’s none of their business, and 2. they will do everything in their power to try to convince me none of this is real and I’m just showing out or whatever. Yeah, no, I’m fine keeping my thoughts to myself and being gay as hell here in Orlando. #sorrynotsorry

I got into a small argument with my mom though. She tried to tell me that being bi wasn’t an actual thing. “People who sleep with men and women are how HIV and AIDS gets spread around. It doesn’t make sense, you’re either gay or straight, there is no in-between.”

What killed me the most though was the example she gave me on why it’s dangerous to be bisexual: “Let’s say you marry a man, and you think you are in love with him. Y’all are marry for like 20 years, and then all of the sudden, you fall in love with a women and decide to leave your husband. That’s not cool at all.”

I stared at her in disbelief and asked, “But if you fall in love with another man and live your husband for him, that’s okay?” She couldn’t say anything, but I knew I had made my point.

I don’t want to have to argue with my family like that everyday because they said some offhand comment I don’t agree with. They do that all the time. My sister literally asked me if one of my friends had daddy issues because she sleeps around a lot. Um, no ma’am, she does not. She and her father have an amazing relationship. She just loves sex. She wanna be a hoe? As long as she’s protecting herself, I couldn’t be more proud. Fuck out of here with that.

The last incident: I forgot how backwards Mississippi, especially country ass bumpkin ass Monroe County, really is. Smithville lost so many businesses when the tornado hit seven years ago. There are still stores that could be built there. Right now, there is only a Dollar General. There was a Piggly Wiggly, but it got blown away. What do they decide to put in it’s place instead of another place to grocery shop?

A motherfucking gun shop.

All the shit going on in Trump’s America right now, and they want to put a damn gun shop there.

I was LIVID when I found out. I’m still livid, which is how this whole post came to be. Like, how fucking dare they think this is okay?! And the best part is that the asshole running the shop... well yeah, he’s a fucking asshole! Mallory told me about all the stunts he pulled in Amory when there was a march going on for gun control and it literally frustrated me to tears. It still does. I just... I can’t go back to that. I refuse.

I hate that I told everyone BEFORE I visited that week that I was moving back. I wish I had just had the thought in my head, told no one, experienced my week back in Mississippi, and then decided on if I was moving back or not. Now I have to go through the embarrassment of telling everyone a month later that, oh hey, nevermind, I’m not going back to that hellhole.

Yeah, Florida is expensive as hell to live in. It sucks not having a car or money here. But I’m trying so hard. And despite all of the hardships, I’m still so happy here. I have the buses to get around (even though they suck). I can walk to nearby stores. I’m independent as hell and I love it.

I thought I was going to be so happy to go back home, but while I was there and watching the snapchats of my friends at work, I realized that I still missed Orlando more than Smithville, and that it was going to break my heart to live.

No, I don’t plan on staying in Orlando forever. There are still so many places to see and live. But for the time being, Orlando is my home and I’m forever in love, through the good and bad times. I’m just so happy I was able to realize that before making a huge mistake.

[mculovin]

Friends with Benefits (part 2)

Part 1 Part 3  Part 4 

ps this is more of a filler, the next part is gonna be more exciting (felt there should be more development first)

-------

I sighed and walked to work, it had been two days since I saw Tom. Waitressing didn’t make the best money, but being in my senior year of university, I needed the money. Along with the financial aid I had received, waitressing was able to pay for university and my apartment. I didn’t have too much left over, but whatever I did I used for important things like groceries. Not all of us could be Tom Holland. 

I opened the door and walked in, the bell ringing signaling someone had entered the diner 

“Rough day?” Jeremy, one of my coworkers, frowned. Jeremy and I had grown close, so he could tell when something was up. 

“Something like that” I quickly put on the outfit waitresses were required to wear. 

“Come on, you never ever call out, and yet you did for the past two days. You’re the one that works overtime. What’s up?” Jeremy gave me a look. He was working on his interrogation look since he wanted to become a police officer. The money he made from the diner, went towards the police academy. 

“There’s just stuff. A lot of stuff going on” I quickly put my hair into a ponytail. 

“When you take your 15, let me know. I know you well enough to know something isn’t okay” Jeremy sighed and went back to work. I breezed through the first two hours of my shift, serving people, collecting tips, the whole shabang. As I cleaned up the table of a family that had just left, Jeremy tapped my shoulder. 

“Table 18 said they would prefer if you serve them” 

“Since when do we take requests for who serves you?” I furrowed my eyebrows. 

“Go, I’ll clean up here” he nudged me in the direction of table 18. I sighed and walked over to table 18, expecting it to be some prank my coworkers were pulling. 

“I’m Y/N, I’ll be your waitress tonight. What can I do for you?” I pulled out my notepad to take their order and looked up. It was Harrison and Jacob. “What are you guys doing here?” I couldn’t believe they were here. As if I wasn’t feeling heartbroken enough, Tom sent his buddies to my work. 

“Two sprites no ice, and we’ve heard the banana blueberry waffles are to good to be true” Harrison grinned. I wrote down their order, collected their menus, and headed to the kitchen to give our chef the order. I grabbed two glasses and filled them with sprite and headed back out to their table. 

“Seriously guys, what are you doing here?” I said coldly. 

“Where’s Tom?” Harrison asked, taking a sip of his sprite. 

“How am I supposed to know? You’re his assistant”

“What? He was with you last, and we haven’t heard from him since” they gave me a strange look. 

“Tell Tom to stop trying to do whatever this twisted game is. I know about the girl on tv with him. Don’t come back here” I sighed and walked away from them. How dare he? I mean did that boy have no decency? 

“I’m taking off for the night. Table 18 is the only table I have right now, I don’t care who gets them. I can’t deal with all this right now” I took off my apron and placed it in my locker. 

“Wine night? I can stop by later on with Claudia” Jeremy offered. 

“I’m okay. Thank you though. See ya Jer” I punched out and left, walking back to my place. The moment I shut my door tears were streaming down my face. I turned on the lights and hung my jacket up on the hook and walked in. Truth be told, I missed him. In the past two days I had seen myself with him, happy, more times than we’d hung out. 

 I checked snapchat and saw Tom had put up a story. He was out, partying. What bull that Harrison didn’t know where he was, it was in his goddam story. I noticed a notification for a new voicemail, so I listened to it seeing it was a random number. 

“Y/n! It’s me! Tom! I’m, I’m actually not sure where I am- yeah another round- anyways, I need you to know I really made a bloody mess of us. I’m a real twat sometimes you know? I’m going to make it right though. What? Who’s paying? Free dances?” the voicemail ended. So he was at a strip club, drunk, wanting to make things right, while getting a lap dance. Just about sums up normal doesn’t it? I deleted the voicemail. A knock came from my door, and for some reason I wished for it to be Tom, coming back and begging for forgiveness. My heart ached in a way I didn’t know it could. Instead, it was Jeremy and Claudia.  

“You look like the ghost of our best friend” Claudia held up a bottle of Duckhorn Merlot. 

“Oh you know I love that wine” I grabbed at the bottle. They gave a disapproving look and closed the door, headed to the kitchen, and poured 3 glasses. 

“Wasn’t there a picture of you and spider boy over there?” Jeremy pointed at the side table where the most recent picture of Tom and I was. 

“Yeah” I frowned and sipped my wine. 

“So, tell us” Claudia swished her wine around. And so I did, all of it. 

--

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