#this has happened when my other coworkers pitch in to help when not asked and later the old ladies bitch to me about it

[dog-girl-zezora]

My problematic trait is that I will watch chaos unfold around my coworkers and not offer any help unless they look to me for it

[thatlesbianbarbie]

Our Omega

Pairing: Select Lionesses x reader

Tags: Omegaverse, Sight Kidnapping, Fast burn, Love at first Smell.

Summary: large packs are normal but you never expected to be in a pack with players from the England lionesses. I hate this but I needed to expel my demons.

WordCount: 2.6K

You weren't ever really interested in Fútbol well in the women yes but not so much in the logistics and rules. So one time when your new Alpha coworker Amber offered to bring you to an England lionesses game you were really just interested in seeing pretty girls. Which is how you are here is a sweaty crowded stadium watching England play France. The weather was almost as hot as the players, meaning you were sweating out your eyeballs. But it's worth it for the front row view you are getting. “ Do you think they are going to win?” Amber asks, leaning slightly into your space. You've only worked with her a couple of times and she definitely likes you more than you like her.

She seems to be confident in herself as if everyone owes her something. “They're going to win”.You don't move your eyes off of the pitch. The whole game she has been asking you technical questions you don't know the answer to. She doesn’t understand that just enjoying the view she has to know everything. It is more than a little frustrating.

You by some grace of god manage to zone out for the remainder of the match only nodding and humming as she talks beside you. Once the match is over the wind picks up rather drastically blowing from behind you and across the pitch meaning anyone standing close can smell the sweat on your skin.”You smell good “ Amber whispers her voice deeper than usual. You really should have told her you weren’t interested. “Thanks” you try to gather your bag and wrestle your coat back onto your body. You're so focused on getting everything together so you can get out of this crowded place that you don't notice someone jogging up to the barrier.

”Hey you” A alpha voice growls from below you. You whip around in surprise. Millie Bright is standing on the other side of the barrier pointing directly at you. You point to yourself with a curious look surely she couldn't mean you. “Yes you come here” she curls her finger and it is like some part of your omega brain is triggered as you shuffle to be right against the barrier.  “Smell me” You do a double take because there is no way in hell she is insinuating what you think she is. Mates can recognize each other by scent and she seems to think you are fated. Who are you to deny this beautiful woman's claims? So Of course you lean over the barrier smelling the junction of her neck and should deeply. She smells strongly of bergamot and vanilla; it's almost intoxicating. You pull back slightly dizzying from the overpowering smell. “I knew it was you. Did you come here with anyone.” Millie questions your head still spinning, you only point to Amber. “Who is that?” Her growl is only low enough you can hear it but it is still terrifying. “A coworker, I think she was trying to get me to go out with her.” You mumble leaning in for more of Millie's scent. “That's not happening “You yelp as you are pulled over the barrier. “Hey that's my date you can’t just go off stealing her”Amber shouts but Millie doesn't even offer her a glance back. 

Millie shifts you to rest comfortably on her back. You can’t seem to bring yourself to care about the full stadium of people around you watching or videoing you. “Who is that? '' You recognize Lucy bronze in her accent alone. Her voice is just as intoxicating as Millie's scent. “Smell her” Mllie prompts as Lucy circles around her to get a better look at you.you can't help the giggle that escapes you when she nuzzles her face into your neck. “I am jealous of Your nose mill Never would have smelled her from over here.”Lucy has appreciation clear in her voice. “‘I think I should go home” Your mind starts to clear and suddenly all of this is hitting you really hard. “baby you're going to be alright Mills And I will take great care of you and just wait till Leah Hears about you she will be ecstatic.”Lucy's hand rubs over your back as Millie's purr fills the air around you again pulling you back into a manipulatable state.

When you mind finally returns to you you are in the back of a car tucked into someones lap.”Hello love” Its leah fucking williamson holding tucked to her chest like her favorite teddy bear. “Love you need to calm down or I will start Purring” Leah runs her hand over your back in soft circles. “You are safe we are going to get you home and get you fed. How does that sound.” Leah asks, wiggling her eyebrows for added effect. ”I was thinking Ham sandwiches,” Leah offers with a smile on her face. Now that she says it you are hungry. “She doesn’t want a ham sandwich Lee” You peek up from Leah to see Mary Earps navigate the car through traffic. “She seemed to think a ham Sandwich sounded pretty good, didn't you love it?” She asks softly, nuzzling at you. “A ham sandwich is okay. Whatever is easy, I don't want to be a bother.” You smile at Mary in the rearview. “You're never a bother, love your omega . We will do anything we can to take care of you.” Mary's tone is softer than you've ever heard in any interview ever. “Thank you”

“You don’t have to thank us. Love , we want to take care of you and do nice things for you.'' Leah smiles, pulling you close into her.``Were Here” Mary sings songs pulling into a gravel driveway. “Is that her?” You hear someone call as Mary opens the door and walks around to help Leah out. Mary opens the door and reaches out for you”You can walk if you want but you might still be drowsy and the gravel is sharp if you fall.” Mary explains as you let her lift you out of the car. ”Hi Im Ella that's Less over there with the blonde hair. She is a little nervous” Ella laughs as Less sheepishly jogs to catch up with Mary. “Mary kicks the door open and slips her shoes off. “Less Tooney Why don't you two go get the bags from the car” Mary is more telling then asking and the girls complain but still surender and go back to the car.

“Georgia Go straighten up the nest please” Mary asks the girl resting on the sofa. “It's really her” Georgia’s voice. “You can Gawk over her later go get the nest sorted” Mary ushers her up stairs and sets you down in the spot Georgia vacated. “Stay Here Mills is in the kitchen. I want to make sure she is making you something other than a ham sandwich. “Mary says with a roll of her eyes. She clicks the tv on to a random channel and walks off leaving you alone and questioning everything going on around you. Surely this has to be some kind of weird dream. There is no way Some of the most famous football players in the world are mated to you.

“What are you so stressed about? I can Smell you from all the way across the house” Lucy Collapses into the sofa next to you. “It's just a little Sudden I go from no mates to I don't even know” You run hand through your sweaty hair. “Seven. you have Seven Mates.” Lucy sets her Head down in your lap and you can't help the wave of calmness that overtakes your body simply from having your Alpha This close. “Ten is so many” You groan slouching back into the arm of the sofa. “Ten makes for a healthy pack. You have your alpha prime, that's Mills. Then you Alphas Leah, Mary, and Me. Then Your Delta Rachel You have your betas. Ella Alessia and Georgia.Then you are a beautiful sweet image.`` ''You guys don't even know me” you run a hand through Lucy's impossible soft hair. “Not yet but The girls will remedy that at dinner always a million and one questions.” You can practically hear Luce's eye roll. 

“Dinner is ready” Marys sings songs from what you can assume is the kitchen. “We should get you some food before there isn't any left.” Lucy's stands and pulls you up behind her. You tail after her and she doesn't let go of your hands. The table is set and the room is empty save for Mary. “ Mills wanted to get changed, just sit and I'll get dinner dished out” Mary gestures to the table before retreating back into the kitchen. “Sit here” Lucy pushes you into a chair and pushes you flush with the table not leaving any room for argument. “I'm going to help Mary stay here” Luce presses a kiss to the top of your head before evicting the room. You're barely alone a second before Rachel comes barrelling into the room. “Ahh there you are. Those girls have been hiding you away from me” She slides in “Hey” It feels so surreal to be talking to these women as if they are everyday people and not super famous. “I'm Rachel but you probably knew that considering you were at our game” She has a slight teasing tone to her voice that you find yourself really enjoying. ”how do you feel? I know the girls can be a little too much when they are all together” Her voice has such genuine concern in it that your heart hurts. ”I feel A little overwhelmed. It's just so sudden one moment I am watching a football game and the next minute freaking millie bright is pulling me over the barricade and telling me I am her mate. I just don’t know how we move forward from this.” It feels nice to tell someone about the thoughts that have been racing around your head for the past couple of Hours. ”First we decide if you want to keep your job. Then if you want to move in with us which I think is best but you can do whatever you think is best for now. That's all the decisions that need to be made right now.” Rach sounds like she has done this a time or too before. “And Mating bonds' ' That was the real problem here. You wanted to mate them to have them inside of you with their teeth on your skin but how could you even know what they expect. “If you want to do it today we will or the girls will wait. They might not be ecstatic about it but they will get over it.” Rachels hand finds itself wrapped around the back of your chair, her hand resting on your shoulder. “I think I would like to at least start tonight. I might not want to go all the way through but I want to try. I want to be mated to you guys. All I have ever wanted was to have a pack of my own. ''You let out a shriek as the door bursts open and ella and less fall into a pile on the floor.

“Girls you know how rude it is to eavesdrop.”Rache looks mock aghast as the girls scramble to make themselves presentable. “Who has been eavesdropping” Millie comes in behind less and ella and they at least have the heart to look embarrassed.”  I was trying to have a healthy conversation about the emotions our omega was going through but these two decided to drop in.” Rachel Eplains as millie finds her spot at the head of the table.  “You two know better than to eavesdrop you're on dishes” Mille scolds her alpha voice coming through slightly due to her frustration. “But we were on dishes last night,” Ella complains, sinking into her seat. “And the night before” Less adds with a pout. “Sounds Like you two are in a whole lot of trouble” You can't help the words as they escape your mouth. “How dare you we are the sweetest nicest girls you could ever be graced with the presence of” Ella argues making direct eye contact with you as if daring you to challenge her claim. “You can’t be in here lying to our omega she doesn't know any better yet” Mary enters the room with a large glass pan full of lasagna cradled in her arms. Luce enters behind her a salad and dresses in her arms. “Where did Georgia and Leah run Off too.”Millie questions cutting into the lasagna. “I think they were making sure the nest is clean for her” Luce starts putting salad on people's plates. “I can get my own food Luce” You are trying to pull away your plate. “Do you see any of these girls making their plates?” Luce raises an eyebrow as you look down into your lap. “No” You mumble not bringing yourself to look her in the eyes. “Let Me make your plate for you” Luce prys the plate out of your hand and sets it back on the table in front of you after there is an adequate amount of food on it. Georgia and Leah come running into the room just as all of the plates are dished up. “Georgia, would you mind grabbing the pop?” Georgia rolls her eyes but hurries down the hall in search of the pop. 

Once dinner and all two hundred and one questions are done a bath is a welcome relaxation. Until you realize Georgia is intent on joining you in said bath. “ Just get in, I'll go you in a minute” Georgia leaves before you have the chance to say anything. Leaving you to strip and sink into the seamting bath all by yourself.You almost find yourself falling asleep as the comforting smells of the bath oils georgia used fill your nose. “I have snacks' ' Georgia hurries into the bathroom startling you out for your thoughts. “I have ice cream and pop” Georgia sets the ice cream and a red beverage that must be the pop down next to the bath before stripping off her clothes. “Lean forward so I can Get Behind ya” Georgia barley utters the words before you're moving to comply. She slips into the bath behind you and pulls you to her chest as soon as she is settled. “Here luv” Georgia presses the ice cream into your hands and sets about washing your hair. You would be lying if you said you didn't enjoy it. Plus that ice cream is good cherry Garcia is truly the way to a girl's heart. I mean who could deny such a sweet woman. 

By the time you're done with your bath all you want to do is curl up in your nest well. If they even have a nest I mean what pack wouldn’t have a nest. Georgia wraps you in a fluffy towel and carries you into a bedroom. There is a large circle bed built into the floor while their nest building skills could you word it was habitable at least for the night. “Here Baby” Alessia handed you a shirt and a soft pair of boxers. You change into them and crawl into the net, your body sinking into the plush material. Soon after you lay down the rest join and a blanket is tossed over you. You can't help yourself as you drift off to sleep surrounded by your soon to be mates.

[gadriezmannsgirl]

Hi, I absolutely love your writing!

I wanted to ask if you could write a Fermín x reader where reader works at the club as one of the fitness trainers and Fermín has the biggest crush on her, and gets teased all the time by his teammates because he get’s completely flustered all the time she helps him with something. At the end he is tired of their teasing and finally asks her out, and he’s really shy toward her. Thank you ❤️

My first Fermín fic ever🥹✨🫶🏼 Hope you'll like this, please let me know, feedback is really important to me!

By Your Side -F.L32

Summary: You're his fitness trainer but he wants you to be something more

You were dreaming. You felt like you were even though you knew you weren't. Dreams do come true. You remember crying when you graduated with honors at School of Physical Activity and Sport Sciences, but you cried even more knowing that the FC Barcelona wanted you to do your internship with them after creating a customized training program.

Not only you got to met your favorite players, you got to work with them and be part of your favorite club, being someone important in the team and for them to take your words and opinions into consideration. To ask you questions, guides on how to be better, how to work out to avoid an injury...

However, being young and female, people- mostly men, liked to make fun of it. Why would a girl be doing in a men's world? Thank heavens, your club supported you and praised you for your hard work and mostly, the ones who were doing it were the players. You had to be constantly around them, making a diet, doing a program, training and everything...

So it wasn't hard for you to get along with them and mostly with the younger ones like Ferran, Pedri, Lamine, Marc G, Gavi, Alejandro and Fermín. You joked with them and had a running joke with each one, your banter only understandable by you guys.

On the other hand, crushing over one of the players? Now, that wasn't on your list but you couldn't help it, he's sweet and funny, shy and aggressive, soft outside the pitch and hard inside, he's very intelligent and hardworking, treating you right in and outside work.

You sighed watching his name in your list. Fermín López.

And a small smile broke into your face.

There was one thing everyone understood but you. Fermín's crush on you. He didn't meant it. You are pretty, yes. But once he got to know you his attraction for you went more than just looks. Every time he spent with you, he fell more for you. And everyone knew it. And often he got teased by it.

Whenever you passed by, stopped to talk or even when your name was mentioned in a conversation, the tables would turn and the teasing would get to him, making him shake his head at his friends and coworkers while hang his head low for no one to see the obvious blush that covered his cheeks.

"Pero pídele una cita, chaval" (Ask her out on a date, dude) Ferran said hitting Fermín's shoulder

"¿Podréis parar un poco?" (Can you stop for a little bit?) Fermín said looking at both, Ferran and Lamine

"Venga, Trujillo" (C'mon, Trujillo) Pedri appeared in his other side "You never know if she wants it, as well"

"She's just our fitness trainer tho. I wouldn't want her to end up in a mess just because I like her"

"You never know what can happen, Fer" Ferran said patting his back "The worst thing could be her ending up fired" All the looks went to Ferran "What?"

"Tiburón, mejor no hables" (Shark, it's better if you don't talk) Pedri said shaking his head at his best friend's antics

"Bueno... That's a posibility" Fermín said sighing

"I mean, it is. But it doesn't have to be like that"

"Sorry the interruption" You said "Pedri, you're doing it wrong" You smile "No wonder why you get easily injured" You joke shaking your head softly

"Hey, it's not my fault I'm fragile!" You stopped smiling giving him the right instructions

"Leg pulled out completely and chin up, go now" You said before turning to Fermín "Your back, señor" You said straightening your back to show him "Good!" You smile "Keep the work, guys"

"Gracias, Y/N/N" He said in a breath as you smile at him

They saw how you went up to Gündogan and Cancelo who were doing push-up's.

"Stop drooling" Lamine said as both, Ferran and Pedri laughed as Fermín wanted to stop what he was doing and hit the back of the youngest head

"Si queréis, la próxima lo gritas más fuerte" (If you want, next time you scream it louder) Fermín said

"I can do that" The youngest didn't catched on Fermin's sarcasm

"And if he can't, we for sure can" Raphinha said with Jules besides him

"No ustedes también, por favor" (Not you too guys, please) Fermín said putting his head on his hands

"What's going on?" Frenkie says drying his face with a towel

"Fermín's crush on Y/N"

"Right! Are you going to tell her?" Frenkie asks winning a groan from him and a round of laughter from the guys

"Can you at least keep it down, guys? By the end of the routine she'll know about it"

"Is it a good or a bad thing?" Robert, who now joined to conversation, asked. Fermín let out a sigh when he saw you walk out the training room

"A very bad one"

"Why?"

"Because she's our fitness trainer and she could get in trouble?"

"Everyone knows you're friends outside this place with her and no one is commenting a thing on it-"

"As they should" Fermín said nodding his head

"So I don't think they'll say something if you ask her out on a date" Robert shrugged his shoulders

"But what if-?"

"Stop with that, you never know what might happen if you never try it" Araújo says with a smile "Besides, she might as well like you"

"And then you'll be a happy couple" Marc Casadó said

"Happy ever after, isn't it?" Oriol joked making everyone laugh and Fermín blush

"Stop guys" He said standing up from the machine "I'll be going"

"You can do it!"

"Good luck, chaval!" Gündogan yelled being followed by everyone

Once Fermín was out the training room, he pushed his weight onto the door, closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

He loved his co-workers, teammates and his friends to death but dear god-

"Hola Fermín"

"¡Puta madre!" (Fuck's sake!) Fermín yelled out startled and startling you as well

"Hostias, I know I don't look good in my work clothes but it's not like that"

"No! No. You look great! You look great, believe me. I just didn't expect it" You laugh lightly seeing him worried

"I was kinda joking, Trujillo. Calm down" He blushed smiling at the nickname while you laughed softly

"¿Qué?" (What?)

"You're blushing"

"I'm sweaty, that's why" You both laugh as he tries to calm himself down

"Sure, of course" You nod giggling

"Pero que tú tambien estás sonrojada" (But you're also blushing)

"It's hot today!"

"Such a liar you are!" You laugh sticking your tongue out

"But in all seriousness... are you feeling okay? I saw you coming out from the room and you looked anxious. Is everything okay?"

"Yes, everything is fine! I'm just overthinking some things" You nod

"I gotcha" You said crossing your arms over your chest "You wanna talk about it?"

Fermín looks at you and frowns "Don't cross your arms like that"

"Over my chest?" He nods "Why?"

"You instantly frown and your smile disappears. You're prettier while smiling" You blushed and smiled

"You're distracting me from your problem"

"That's my problem"

"I'm being serious"

He giggles "So am I" He says shrugging his shoulders

"Fermín"

"¿Qué?" He laughs

"I'm serious"

"I'm not having any problem, Y/N" He smiles "It was mainly just some things, the guys were saying"

"What did they say?"

"It was some teasing but it's a pretty serious thing for me and I get them but I don't think they get me"

"You can tell me, you know? I'm always here to help you"

"It's a complicated theme"

"I can understand"

"I'm okay, Y/N"

"C'mon, Fer. I know we're at work right now but we're friends. You can tell me anything"

Fermin sighs "It's really complicated"

"I have time" Fermín smiles shaking his head "Is it about football?" He shakes his head "College?" No again "Family?" No "A girl?" He doubts lightly before shaking his head "It's a girl"

"No"

"Don't lie, López" He smiles looking at the floor

"I like this girl, I have been crushing on her for the longest time possible but I'm afraid because of some things"

"What things?" You ask

"Her job first of all and what people can say about that"

"Is that just it?"

"I'm also afraid she doesn't like me back"

"How could anyone not like you, Fer? You're amazing. Come on, tell me more about this girl" You start walking

"Where are you going?"

"We're gonna have a talk, Fermín!"

"Wait...!"

He ran after you as you got to your office "Get ready, I want details"

Fermín looked at you as you were picking up some papers and making your office more presentable than it was already

Suddenly he felt his blood running through his whole body and remembered every teasing the guys made

"You need a tissue, man. You have drool on your chin", "Go ask her out", "Training with more passion are we now, huh Fer?"

"The girl" You hum letting him know to continue "The girl I'm talking about..." You lift your head to see him "It's you"

"You say what?"

"I like you" He said nodding "But I'm scared because you're our fitness trainer and I don't want to cause you any kind of problem. I don't want people to judge you nor your well deserved spot on this team and I have been into you ever since you came here 'cus you're gorgeous, sweet, smart, funny and many things that I wouldn't be able to describe with words" He shrugs his shoulders with a soft smile "But I don't know..." He said looking at the floor as you smiled

"Really?" He nods

"I'm sorry if-"

"That's a good thing to know then" you cut him off "'cus I like you too"

"Really?" His head lifts, his eyes shine and in his face was a smile

"Yes" You said blushing by the intensity of the eye contact held between the two of you

"That's amazing!" You both laugh "I'm sorry"

"It's fine, Fer. It's okay"

"Would you... Uhmm... I don't- I mean... Would you like to go with me on a date?" You smile nodding

"Sure" You smile "Is 7pm good for you?"

"Yes! Yes, of course! It works for me" He smiles and giggles. You smile back. "Do you want me to pick you up?" You nod

"That's perfect!"

"Perfect" He breathed out with a smile

"Great"

"Great" You laugh

"¡Fermín! ¡You're missing one repetition!"

"Not to kick you out but you should go" You said as he nods laughing

"I should"

"And go there jogging. You stopped excercising a while ago I wouldn't like for you to get a cramp"

"Yes, miss" He smiled getting out of your office.

You stayed there looking at your door. Damn, your cheeks hurt for smiling so much. But it was something he gets out of you easily. He makes you happy.

°°° °°° °°° °°°

Taglist: @gaviymarcsbride @stuckinaf4nfiction @elijahslover @azzpenswrld @http-isabela

[alittlebitofloveliness]

The Outsiders as Modern Fast Food Employees

Based on stuff I have seen/done at work

-The management very clearly have a 'brand' about who works out front, so stereotypically 'pretty' people are usually interacting with customers and everyone else gets banished to the grill (this is a real thing that happened at my work. We have one token dude who works at the front and the rest of us are all rosy cheeked young girls with long hair. Seriously, put me and most of my female coworkers together we look scarily similar) POINT IS Soda, Ponyboy, and Angela would all get to work front of house

-Steve works grill and he's the coworker everyone likes for no reason, he's just chill and good at what he does and helps out when front of house is swamped without needing to be asked or being a dick about it

-Every fast food place has one good manager and one evil manager (it's a canon event ok) and as long as the evil manager isn't working Steve lets everyone working eat some of the leftover fries before he chucks them each night

-Ponyboy found a mouse in the walk in pantry once and took it home in a cup to keep as a pet. Darry wouldn't let him, so Curly agreed to foster it for him, and now they relentlessly refer to it as 'the baby'. Newly hired coworkers are always confused and a little concerned because are they actually gay teen parents? No, they're just dumbasses, but no one tells the new hires that because it's fun to see how long it takes them to figure out they're cooing about a pet MOUSE not a human child

-Everyone chats and shit talks over the headsets all the time, even though they're not supposed to. Since Curly and Angela speak spanish but no one else does, they shit talk about the evil manager when she's there, and tell her they're talking about their brother if she ever asks what they're going on about

-Sodapop hates working drive through but gets it almost every shift since he's one of the few people trained to do it

-Two-bit is that guy who's technically employed but has like...one scheduled shift a week and still calls in all the time

-Theres a group chat where the schedule gets shared but only Soda and Steve ever use it, and never for it's intended purpose

-Angela can cry on command and anytime a customer starts to complain about anything she immediately bursts into tears. As soon as the customer leaves she stops

-Angela's customer service voice is already high pitched (we love customer service voice woohoo) but when she's working drive through it's so shrill its a wonder anyone can understand her

-Darry has his other jobs so he definitely wouldn't work where the rest of them work but he's that family member that stops by all the time and chates to soda and/or pony for half an hour and everyone else is annoyed 'cause they gotta pick up the slack.

-Dallas also wouldn't work with them because that man could NOT do customer service but him and Tim could drop by all the time and be really nice to the workers but yell at other customers. Someone is letting their kid run wild in the lobby? Tim's scolding that kid AND their mother. Some old guy is bring curt with the staff? Dally's gonna be more than curt to him

-Johnny would be a doordash/skip driver but he's at the store so often that everyone greets him by name and kinda treats him like an honorary employee

[lemotmo]

This ask is all of us 😫 but also when you do put it in real job terms it's so embarrassing for him. Yikes.

Q. How did we get here? Seriously how did it get to this point? What the hell happened? I genuinely don't understand how he managed to start all of this. 🤣😭

A. I'm tired of talking about the cameo videos so I'm going to talk about them without talking about them, lol. I can't really figure out a good way to break it down so I'm going to use myself (as Lou in this scenario), my job (obviously 911 in this scenario), and my coworkers (the 911 cast) to try and break it down in a real world sense. I will use the character name that correlates instead of my actual coworkers names. So bear with me.

Let's say the firm I work for has a client and that client has a product (911) that they have made some modifications too (newly bi character). As a result my company needs to figure out a way to sell those modifications to the public. My company has a senior staff team (Bobby, Chimney, Hen, Buck and Eddie). My company also has a junior staff team (Ravi, Karen and Albert), I (Lou) am part of the junior staff team. Once in a while our boss (Tim) will assign a junior staff member to collaborate with, or help a member of the senior staff with working up a product launch or rebrand. In this case my boss has assigned me to work with Buck on this rebranding. Now normally Buck works with Eddie on his campaigns so Eddie is still a part of the team, I'm just basically Buck's assistant on this particular campaign. The pitch we come up with works pretty well and the client is happy with the overall result. I had nothing special to do with the success of the rebrand but I was a part of it. But a few of my coworkers liked the work I did and told me they would like to see more of my stuff. I'm not used to that particular kind of attention so I enjoy it for a bit. It's fun. No harm no foul. But at some point I decide that those coworkers are correct and I deserve a bigger role within my company. The problem is there are no openings on the senior staff. So I need my boss to believe that he should just create a position for me. So I get those coworkers to tell my boss that they want to see more of my work and he needs to give me a promotion that doesn't exist. My boss (again,Tim) tells them that there aren't any open positions that need to be filled, but thanks them for their enthusiasm for my work. But now I want that job that isn't really available so I tell those same coworkers to go above my boss's head and demand his boss create a position for me. His boss says the same thing, she did a great job but we don't need anyone. So that group of coworkers decide that they need to get Eddie moved to a different department so I can have his job. The problem with that is Eddie is very well liked by the staff as a whole. Our clients (the audience) like Eddie. They especially like his work with Buck. Buck is also not interested in working with anyone other than Eddie. So the idea doesn't go over well with most people. Besides the fact they all like Eddie there are other members of the junior staff (Karen and Ravi) who have been with the company longer and would be more deserving of a promotion, if one became available, than I am. But my friends and I disagree so my friends set out to try and turn the office against Eddie. They start bad mouthing him to our other clients. They spread rumors about him through the office. Some of them even start suggesting that maybe he and Buck are sleeping together and that's why Buck refuses to accept the idea of working with someone else. Things get so bad that the office splinters into two camps. The much larger pro Eddie camp, which includes Buck and the majority of our clients, and the much smaller pro me, (Lou) camp that is just louder and nastier. Forcing our boss to step in and condemn the smaller pro me camps behavior. Which now puts my boss, and his boss, in the position of deciding whether or not to keep me until my contract is up, so we can complete the original product plan, or go ahead and dismiss me from the company all together before completing the task, and just altering the original plan.

This is where we are.

This got insanely long, and maybe really confusing, I'm so sorry, but this is a real world version of what Lou basically did. And when you apply this tactic to a real life job scenario the level of absurdity is mind blowing. But, anon, this is how we got here. Essentially he started believing his own hype and opened a Pandora box he now cannot control and cannot close. So now we wait.

Thank you Nonny for dropping this in my inbox!

Now this was a great idea. If you put this in terms of jobs most people in fandom can understand and relate to, this kind of behaviour becomes even more unhinged.

Thank you for the time and effort to type this out Ali.

IMPORTANT! Please don't repost this ask and/or a link that leads straight to my Tumblr account on Twitter or any other social media. Thank you!

Heads up! For anyone who is giving me the shifty eyes for reposting Ali's updates instead of reblogging. Read this.

Remember, no hate in comments, reblogs or inboxes. Let's keep it civil and respectful. Thank you.

If you are interested in more of Ali’s posts, you can find all of her posts so far under the tag: anonymous blog I love.

[b0ng05]

Celina Juarez x Fem Reader

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Aura Pt. 2

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Word Count: 1003

Prompt:

"God. I missed that."

"Missed what?"

"Your aura. I- it um- it sounds kind of dorky, but your aura lights up the room."

Summary: What happens when John Nolan and Lucy Chen notice some similarities between their rookies? What if they decided to play matchmaker?

Master list/Request list

Part 1.

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Celina staring didn’t go unnoticed by the training officers, in fact they were hiding in plain sight watching on from afar.

Y/n was sitting at a table not too far from Celina, the distance was merely teasing Celina’s racing heart more. The temptation to approach and-

“Hey, Officer Juarez, right?” A sweet voice snapped Celina out of her trance.

Celina’s eyes widen as she sees that same sweet aura accessorized with an even sweeter smile. It takes Celina a good second to register what was happening.

“Oh! Yes- Yes I am. I’m Celina Juarez, it’s nice to meet you.” Celina rushed out feeling slightly embarrassed at her late response.

“I’m Y/n Y/l/n, can I sit here?” Y/n asks, with a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Y-yeah, of course,” Celina replied.

Her heart thumped in her chest as the aura was now closer than before. The vibrant pinks, purples, and greens painting a wonderful scene before her. It felt like a bright light that filled a dark void. A scene so beautiful that it makes the room feel lighter.

“So, how’s your day going so far?” Y/n asked, with that lovely smile. She raised her hand to take a sip of her coffee as she looked on curiously.

“I- uh, my day is going pretty well. What about you?” Celina says feeling a bit flustered at the attention of this woman.

“Mine is going well. You’re Nolan’s rookie, right?” Y/n smiles, making Celina’s heart race.

“Yeah, and you’re a transfer from SDPD,” Celina states, her eyes lighting up a bit as she talks to the woman.

“You’d be correct. So, gorgeous and attentive? I like that.” Y/n teases, a small smirk tugging the corner of her lips.

Celina blushes deeper, letting out a small nervous giggle. She felt embarrassed at the sound of her laugh, but couldn’t help but smile at the compliment.

From a distance, Nolan, Angela, Nyla, and Lucy all watched the interaction. When they heard the awkward high pitched giggle Celina let out, the women all looked at each other with furrowed brows trying not to let out a laugh. Nolan just looked confused, having never heard Celina laugh like that.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Three months have passed and Celina has gotten a lot closer with Y/n. Celina’s crush didn’t fade, but in fact grew stronger. As Celina got to know her, not only was her aura beautiful, but her personality and her heart were just as stunning. Celina would never admit it to her coworkers, but she had been keeping a rose quartz with her in her pocket since she met Y/n. Hoping the crystal would indirectly influence her interactions with the woman.

Cop cars and SUVs surrounded an old warehouse. Its metal walls rusted and weakened to a fault. Its garage-like door opens revealing the secrets hidden within. Around twenty men hid around the building, some behind corners, and others ducking behind crates. In view were crates filled with yet to be identified narcotics and weapons.

The interior looked like a maze. Every turn is unknown. The horde of cops surround the building, slowly inching closer to begin the full bust. The men in the warehouse unknowingly walk around, guarding the building armed with weapons.

Or that’s what Celina had heard. She was told to stay back on desk duty today, she was currently filling out a report of a stolen bike for a 13 year old kid. Normally she wouldn’t entirely mind desk duty, but today marked the 8th or 9th day in a row that Y/n was sick with covid. Not that Celina was counting the days.... She totally was.

So Celina didn’t have any light to brighten the boring existence of desk duty. She didn’t have anything to do after the kid left with a copy of his bike report. She sat down on one of the desk chairs and let out a small sigh. Her deep brown eyes watching the station doors, hoping for something to busy her mind.

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Celina sighed as she entered the station. She immediately went to the breakroom to get coffee before anything else. Her eyes don’t really look up to meet anyone else’s as she heads for the coffee pot, but she pauses when she sees someone in front of the coffee pot.

She moves to sit at the table while she waits but she stops in her tracks. She sees a familiar light flash. She turns her head back towards whoever was at the coffee pot. Green, pink and purple fill her vision.

“God. I missed that.” Celina muttered as she stared on, a soft smile gracing her lips.

“Missed what?” Y/n asked as she turned around to face her, a smile teasing the corner of her mouth.

“Your aura. I- It- um- it sounds kind of dorky, but your aura lights up the room.” Celina admits, her hand rubbing the back of her neck as she sheepishly blushes.

“So, we can add charming to the list of things I like about you.” Y/n says as she blushes and smiles at Celina.

Celina looks back at her with a flustered smile as she moves closer to Y/n grabbing a paper coffee cup.

“Oh yeah? How long is that list getting?” Celina teases, a small smirk on her lips. She glances at Y/n as she pours herself some coffee.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Y/n says, her tone playful as leans her elbow on the counter, passing Celina the coffee creamer.

Celina’s heart races as their fingers brush together. Her smile getting a bit brighter, the electric touch felt like it gave her more energy than the coffee would. They both look into each other’s eyes, smiling like total dorks.

“Oh I would definitely love to know.” Lucy pipes up from the doorway of the breakroom, a grin plastered on her face.

“I would as well.” Nolan smirks, raising his hand from where he sits in a breakroom chair.

Celina and Y/n blush deeper as they glance at each other.

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[inamindfarfaraway]

The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals Pitch Meeting

[Should be experienced imagining the voice and acting of Ryan George, who is linked to above.]

Producer Guy: So, you have a musical for me?

Screenwriter Guy: Yes sir, I do. It’s called The Guy Who Didn’t Like Musicals because the main character, Paul Matthews, doesn’t like musicals.

PD: He doesn’t?

SG: No, he can’t stand them. Watching one is his own personal hell. And that isn’t a throwaway quirk, it comes up several times and is integral to the plot.

PD: Isn’t the protagonist typically meant to be relatable to the audience?

SG: Yeah.

PD: And won’t the audience be full of people who like musicals?

SG: Yeah.

PG: Bit of a weird choice, but okay then. So other than the musical thing, what’s Paul like?

SG: Oh, not much.

PG: What?

SG: Yeah, he’s the most average, boring, white middle-class American everyman you can imagine. No desires, ambitions or hobbies; he never expresses much passion for anything except things he doesn’t like. He has an office job at a company that’s so generic, I didn’t even think of what it does. He’s not particularly nice either. Like, when his best friend Bill asks him to help him reconnect with his teenage daughter Alice, he refuses to avoid his own discomfort despite having nothing else to do. And when his other friend Charlotte right next to him is clearly upset because she’s in a miserable marriage to a neglectful, cheating husband, he doesn’t bother to comfort her.

PG: Isn’t the protagonist typically meant to be likeable and interesting?

SG: Yeah, but we’re not gonna do that I decided. So another important character is Emma Perkins, this barista Paul has a crush on. She’s the only reason he keeps going to this crappy café.

PG: And what’s her deal? Is she kind and friendly to balance out Paul being so apathetic?

SG: No, she’s also rude, but she has better reasons for it. She hates her job and has really annoying, mean coworkers her boss favours over her, who just won’t shut up about how great musical theatre is. They all love it so much that there’s a new rule that if they get tipped, they have to perform a whole song and dance routine.

PG: But working for every tip negates the point of a tip!

SG: Yeah, yeah, yeah. Like I said, it's a crappy café.

PG: I gotta say, though, you’re presenting musical fans in quite a negative light there. They are the people whose money we want.

SG: (aside) You haven’t seen anything yet. Anyway, Emma and Paul bond over not liking things and people - it’s cute. But then at the end of the day, a meteor crashes down in a big storm and lands right in the town’s theatre, which is putting on a musical. And the meteor turns out to have evil alien life inside it!

PG: Oh my God. What happens to everyone in that theatre?

SG: Well, it’s offstage, but we find out later that the alien works by taking over your body like a virus and killing you to use you as a vessel for its hive mind. So that probably happens to most of the people. Bill and Alice get out okay, but a lot of people are dead now.

PG: This escalated very quickly!

SG: Yeah, this show does that. It’s a horror comedy; it’s like a sitcom where anyone could brutally die. But here’s the thing: the alien hive mind makes the Infected sing and dance like they’re in a musical, so all the fun, catchy songs are actually it controlling people’s corpses. That’s how everyone knows the lyrics and can move in time to music nobody’s playing. You only hear the music if you’re Infected. And it spreads really fast, so this mindless musical obsession could literally destroy humanity!

PG: That’s so dark and tonally dissonant. But I have concerns about the villain essentially being a living musical, in a musical. Won’t that kinda alienate the audience? As in ‘make them not like it’, not ‘make them aliens’.

SG: No, it’ll be fun. The first song after the intro is very entertaining. There’s this really funny part with a silly, crazy homeless guy.

PG: Ah, yes. Making fun of the homeless and mentally ill is tight!

SG: Not what I… (moving on) and, and, we can cleverly parody musical tropes. For example, Paul’s boss tries to get him to sing an “I Want” song because the Hive want him to be the protagonist of their ‘musical’, but he doesn’t want anything so he’s a terrible protagonist.

PG: Oh, that was on purpose! I thought you were just a bad writer.

SG: Yeah, no, I’m setting up an arc. So the Hive take over most of the town - which is on a island and the bridge gets pulled up, so there’s no way off - including Emma’s café. But she escapes with Paul and they meet his friends from work, plus this obnoxious asshole Charlotte’s cheating with called Ted, who's the worst. But then the Infected police show up, including Charlotte’s husband Sam. She begs him to snap him out of it ‘cause she still loves him, but he pulls a gun on her.

PG: Oh no.

SG: Fortunately, Ted knocks him out.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But he hits him too hard and his brain falls out!

PG: Wait, even putting aside how unlikely it is that his flesh and skull were broken open wide enough that his whole brain could fall out, isn’t the brain… attached? That’s a very implausible injury.

SG: I’m gonna need you to get all the way off my back about that.

PG: Well, okay then.

SG: So Charlotte has a mental breakdown and Emma suggests they go to her biology professor, Henry Hidgens. He’s an eccentric doomsday survivalist who somehow predicted this exact incredibly specific apocalyptic situation and has a huge house with top-notch security. And he's a biologist, so he might be able to study the alien infection if they bring him Sam.

PG: It’ll be hard to get there safely with the town swarming with alien zombies, especially carrying a dead man.

SG: Actually, it’ll be super easy, barely an inconvenience.

PG: Oh, really?

SG: That part just happens offstage.

PG: So they get to shelter?

SG: They do, so they start to relax for a bit. Except Charlotte, she’s dying inside and stays with her tied-up dead husband. Bill and Ted have this funny argument where Bill threatens to kick Ted’s head, which, you know, is a stupid threat.

PG: It is?

SG: Yeah, because you’d have to kick really high and most people can’t do that.

PG: I thought you would just push the person to the ground with your arms and then kick their head. Most people can do that.

SG: True.

PG: And it would be highly effective. You could kill someone that way.

SG: (getting an idea) You could, couldn’t you? (writes that down)

PG: What are you writing?

SG: Nevermind. Emma and Paul have a nice heart-to-heart where she reveals her backstory. Turns out she had a sister, Jane, who lived a great life, dream job, true love, kid, everything, while Emma left home at eighteen and travelled around being aimless and irresponsible. But then last year Jane died and that’s why Emma came back and is studying, to try to do something with her life now that Jane can’t anymore.

PG: Aw, that’s sad.

SG: Even a zany horror sitcom has its serious moments. So she and Paul bond some more, until Charlotte and Sam burst in.

PG: Wait, what?

SG: The Hive made her think he’d come back to life and manipulated her into letting him go. Then he just killed her.

PG: Dick move.

SG: Massive dick move! So now Ted gets beaten up by the possessed corpse of the woman he loves, after the last things he said to her were mean because he’s the worst. Fortunately, Hidgens kills the zombies.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But Alice calls Bill and she’s under attack at her school!

PG: Oh no.

SG: If Bill goes to save her alone he’ll almost definitely die. But Paul volunteers to go with him.

PG: So he won’t be nice to his friends in everyday life, but he will risk his life for them?

SG: Precisely, this is really bringing out his inner hero. But when they get there, Alice is already Infected. She sings a whole song about what a terrible father Bill is and he's so guilty that he failed her that he tries to kill himself with the gun they brought. Fortunately, Paul takes the gun off him.

PG: Oh, good.

SG: But he drops it on the ground, so Alice just shoots Bill herself.

PG: Oh my God! Why did he let go of the gun? That was a very poor decision!

SG: Extremely poor, yes. Alice nearly kills Paul too, but the army rescue him. Specifically this secret special unit that I made up called PEIP that deals with supernatural stuff like magic and aliens that most people don't know about. They're ordered to kill everyone to keep the weird stuff secret, but the leader, General John MacNamara, is a good person so he doesn't do that.

PG: So he lets Paul live?

SG: He does, and he sends a helicopter to take him and Emma off the island.

PG: Paul tells him about Emma?

SG: Uh-huh. He realizes that he's in love and finally does want something: to be with her.

PG: Cool, cool, cool.

SG: Meanwhile, Hidgens and Emma are studying the Infected. Emma theorizes that if the brain of the Hive is in the meteor, they could take out all of them by destroying it.

PG: Is that true?

SG: There's no reason it couldn't be! But Hidgens changes his mind about the Hive being evil, knocks Emma out and ties her and Ted up. Then he opens his house's gates because he wants the Hive to get in.

PG: Why does he think the Hive isn't evil?

SG: Well, he's thinking that since humans are so immoral and harmful we're killing the planet and each other constantly anyway, but the Hive will bring peace and harmony. And he loves musicals.

PG: Oh, he does?

SG: Yeah, he's even written his own awful one, and he plays a song he wrote and composed to lure the Infected inside. He's willing to die and doom humanity for his twisted, irrational love of musical theatre.

PG: Really slamming your audience again. Hey, why wasn't he at the musical the theatre just put on?

SG: I don't know.

PG: Fair enough.

SG: So Paul comes back, frees Emma and Ted and they escape, but General MacNamara kills Ted because the soldiers are Infected now!

PG: And this is all onstage?

SG: Yes.

PG: Then it's gonna be hard to get past a division of fit, armed zombie soldiers who can survive not even having brains in their heads.

SG: No, it isn't. Emma shoots MacNamara in the shoulder and that makes him just give up.

PG: What about all the other soldiers?

SG: Please ignore them.

PG: Okay.

SG: So Paul and Emma get to the helicopter and think they've made it, but the pilot is Emma's mean coworker from earlier and makes them crash.

PG: Why is she Emma's coworker and not just the army pilot, if the Hive got there first?

SG: Because.

PG: That works. Are they okay after the crash?

SG: Paul is, but Emma's too hurt to walk. Paul says they should find a boat -

PG: Wait. There are boats? Or does Paul just think there might be?

SG: I have more notes on this town and it has a boating society, so there are boats.

PG: Then why haven't the Infected got in the boats and gone to mainland? Shouldn't they have done that by now?

SG:

SG: ...You're right. I didn't think about the implications. Oh my God, I didn't think about it!

PG: Whoops!

SG: Whoopsie! So anyway, Emma tells him her theory and he goes to blow up the meteor with a grenade.

PG: But then he could die, and right when he actually cares about something. That is heroic. Do he and Emma have a touching maybe-last goodbye?

SG: Kinda. They try to kiss, but she coughs up blood in his face. The Hive knows Paul is coming and lets him in order to infect him. He does his best to resist its control, but it makes him sing and dance and have an existential crisis.

PG: Oh no.

SG: But at the last possible moment, he pulls the pin, blows up the meteor and saves the day!

PG: Wow, wow, wow. Wow.

SG: So we cut to two weeks later. Everyone else in the town is dead, but Emma was saved by the army reinforcements and she's getting out of hospital on the mainland and ready to start a new life.

PG: Well, at least she survived and the Hive is defeated. That's what Paul wanted. But it's still a shame he died.

SG: That's what Emma thinks... until he walks in!

PG: (excited) What?

SG: Yeah, he's okay and he gives her this soft smile and she's the happiest we've ever seen her and they hug.

PG: That's such a sweet ending. After everything they've been through, getting to be happy together feels earned, and I really have warmed up to them both.

SG: And then Paul starts singing.

[Beat. Producer Guy's relieved expression turns to confusion, shock, sorrow and horror as he processes that information and its implications. He stares at Screenwriter Guy, betrayed.]

PG: But that means he's... (SG nods, proud of himself) and Emma's theory was wrong, and... (SG nods again) the Hive is on the mainland now, so the entire world is... (SG nods again) oh, a very depressing ending!

SG: Set to a very cheerful song! The cast even stay in-character for the bows; the Infected bow while Emma screams and cries and begs the audience for help before being dragged away. So what do you think?

PG: That ending will haunt my dreams. But as creative as the premise is and as emotional as it gets later on, I don't know if this will be that big of a hit. The tone changes so fast and jarringly, the main characters aren't that likeable at first and it all just seems pretty niche. And it spends so much time mocking its own genre and audience. I can see it becoming a cult classic, but I don’t think you’ll be able to launch a series with it or anything.

[princehendir]

Play by play on the Easter hunt this is like I've been watching filler episodes and this is the big finale of your work™️ posts

PREVIOUSLY ON:

we do movies at my theatre sometimes because we have a screen. This showing of [REDACTED RABBIT THEMED FILM] has been planned since the beginning of the season, but in February it was decided that since the movies haven't been selling so great we wanted to add an extra event to help draw people in. Several ideas were pitched (by me) but what we (they) landed on was an Easter egg hunt before the movie.

I hated this idea, but was out voted. 

The plan was this: at 1:00pm, we will open the house (eggs will be hidden in the house) and let everyone in. And then the movie will start at 2:00 and everyone will sit down.

I hated this plan, mostly because it's not actually a plan. “Let’s just have kids look for eggs and then the movie will start” is just like, an idea. Its not a plan, there’s no structure. A plan would be something like, between 12:30 & 1:00 kids are free to search for eggs, at 1:00 everyone will be asked to leave the house so they can go see the easter bunny over by concessions! (wink wink) The children can then be entertained by the easter bunny until 1:30, when we will re-open the house for seating, or their parents have the option of leaving and coming back at that time, whatever works best for them. In that half-hour gap the house can be cleaned up and reset for a business-as-usual film screening. 

That is the plan I put forward at our first event planning meeting. It was shot down, very rudely and aggressively, by my coworker Katrina. She insisted that i was “maing this too difficult” and over thinking this” and “we don’t need any of that”. She interrupted me, loudly, multiple times to say these things. And then my boss went with this non-plan that she presented over mine, even though she’s from marketing and doesn’t ever interact with customers and I’m literally the house manager a.k.a the person who is in charge of the house & the lobby whenever it is in use? Because she’s been here longer and can speak more words faster and louder than I can, I guess? I was too flabbergasted to that this woman who is not my boss and not in my department and who I’ve met in person exactly once before was talking to me like this (and that no one else, including my boss, felt the need to intervene).

I tried several more times over the next two months to add structure to this event but was shut down and told to relax by either Katrina (who again, is from marketing so why does she have any say here?) or my boss, who would always side with her. Eventually, because i was demoralized (and because my boss literally told me she was sick of talking about this with me and not to bring it up again) I just gave up.

SATURDAY THE FIRST (24 HOURS REMAIN)

2pm. I & several other coworkers (but not Katrina…🤔) + our boss arrive to hide 700 eggs in the house

 it's kinda hard because there's not really a lot of places to hide anything? Because it's just rows & rows of theatre chairs? I warned them about this btw.

 also an issue! The floor is sloped. Because it is a theatre :) So eggs just kind of keep, rolling towards the orchestra pit. And it's really loud the whole way down. I literally told them this would happen  but I guess we all just have to pretend this is a surprise.

at finish, none of the eggs are like, at all hidden. They are all 100% visible from all angles. Also something about them all being in there suddenly makes it really clear how many forbidden dangerous areas, delicate historical features, finger-crunching mechanisms, and weird little trip-fall-break-your-leg-and-sue-us ledges & stairs there are in this room.

my coworker April (heavily involved in the planning, but only because the poor thing can't say no, she is a victim here too imo) privately admits to me that she's dreading this event and just wants it to be over. 

previously it was agreed, MULTIPLE TIMES, that we were going to set a limit on number of eggs per kid, and exclusively allow only the bags we provide (small) to be used. But when I brought it up my boss (Kelly) said "oh no we won't need a limit that's not necessary :) and people can bring their own bags who cares"

whatever. 

SUNDAY.

arrive at 11:30.

April is already there. This is way earlier than she said she was coming. She admits that she was too anxious to stay at home.

also, the gal who was going to wear the Easter Bunny costume sprained her ankle. So now April is doing it. Good lord. Anyways

Also now we’re apparently going to have the Bunny in the main lobby? Greeting kids? Instead of else where so that bored kids could Go and do something else/split the crowd so as to ease congestion in our small historic lobby? Which has been the plan the entire time until just now????

whatever.

further backstory: I couldn't get any fucking volunteers to staff this stupid thing. So my mom finally took pity, volunteered herself & my father and bribed two family friends with lambshanks into coming and helping also.

further further backstory: our good popcorn machine is broken. Started out that it was just tripping the breaker every single time it got plugged in, but now it's throwing sparks when plugged in also lollllll. So we're using the small, older, back-up machine. This will become relevant soon.

Katrina arrives, two of her grandchildren in tow. She lets them into the lobby even though we aren't open yet. They are EXTREMELY badly behaved. Loud. Throwing things, hitting each other. She's not managing them very well and I feel uncomfortable intervening. Eventually she takes them outside (confusing, is she working today or here as a patron?)

volunteers arrive. Parents + friends + the one other volunteer I could get. I explain to them the "plan". They are confused. Why isn't there a distinct end time for the egg hunt & start time seating? What about people who show up for just the film? Do they have to sit with an egg hunt happening around them? Are we really letting people bring their own bags? This room seems like a terrible place to let children run around in? I tell them that I brought up literally all of these issues, AND had clear solutions for all of them, and was rejected every time :) oh well!

there's a lot of people lining up out front. Way more than expected. You can hear crowd noises through the glass. It's kind of intense.

some big 12-year-old literally charges the doors, Jurassic Park velociraptor style. Building is 95 years old so it's loud AF and everything on the whole wall shakes.

its Katrina's grandson. Because fucking of course it is.

one last check on the concessions stand before we open. The credit card machine has no power. Oh shit, I think, is this machine tripping the breaker too now? no, breaker is fine. It's just somehow this one wall plug has stopped working. Suddenly. Whatever. I plug the machine into a different socket and decide to fix the other issue later because the doors need to be open in 5 minutes 

i get the lobby doors open at exactly 1:00. Check with tech to make sure we're good to open all the way up, get the ok. We start taking tickets and letting people in to hunt at about 1:01.

A mother approaches me to tell me that her kid got no eggs, and there are no more eggs to be found. It is 1:07.

Multiple complaints now that there are no eggs left. It's been less than ten minutes. 

check in with my mom, she confirms that the first couple of kids to get let in had shopping bags, and since the eggs were not actually hidden they were just kinda laying there those kids just basically..... Cleared the room.

extra gift bags full of the leftover eggs are quickly made up by my boss. Easter Bunny passes out a lot of those.

meanwhile, a line is forming at concessions. The popcorn machine is not quite keeping up. It's not an.... emergency yet. Though.

meanwhile, unbeknownst to me, my mother has corrected this one boy for his bad behavior three separate times. On the third time, the adult with him got really nasty with her. When I come by again mom reports this interaction to me in case there's a complaint. After she describes the boy and adult to me, I inform her that that was Katrina & her grandson.

"Katrina... Is she that cunt who cc'd you in that really nasty email you showed me?"

yeah mom. That very same cunt.

because there are no eggs left, most people have just taken a seat. It's still only 1:20. There's 40 minutes until the movie starts. The children are restless and tense because there is nothing for them to do. Eggs gone. They already saw the Easter Bunny. They are bored now. I predicted this btw.

several parents talk to the volunteers to confirm that there really is nothing else to do but sit until the movie starts. "I don't know if I can keep my kids focused  and still that long, plus the movie runtime" “you really expect people to sit and do nothing for 40 minutes?”

I'm sure you're sick of hearing me say this but I literally predicted this issue. And I tried to prevent it! But I was told I was "making this way too complicated" and "overreacting 🙄"

fuck them.

April, despite being in a mascot suit, is still very visibly miserable.

the line at concessions is now the length of the entire hallway between the lobby and the concessions area. This is like two car lengths. There's a separate line that's just people who have already paid and are waiting for popcorn. I literally don't know anything about what happened in the house after this point because I spent every single moment until the movie started helping them try to get through this. They ran out of water bottles and I had to raid the bar fridge of every single bottle there and we went through those too. People are ordering like 3-6 popcorns per group and the machine can really only kick out about 5 per batch. The coffee machine ran out of water which has never happened before? We ran out of napkins and I had to go raid the upstairs bar for those?

my off-duty coworker who showed up as a customer with her kids (very polite, unlike some people's) literally jumped in to help me because she could see how crazy it was.

I need you to understand that this is only 35 minutes in.

boss will not make eye contact with me. General guilty puppy vibes. I fucking told you bro

finally, eventually, the line dies down enough that I feel like I can leave the concessions volunteers alone for a bit. (Sidenote: they are almost completely out of candy at this point.) I go to the bathroom for the first time in like an hour. I'm coated in sweat from running back and forth. I scream into my hands for a couple of seconds to decompress. And then I get right back out there.

unbeknownst to me: my mom has pulled aside the technical director (they know each other sorta) because he seems irritated, asks him what he thinks of all this. He repeats literally every complaint I have. Mom says "yeah, Ashland predicted all of this in a meeting two months ago and she says that no one listened". He laughs for 20 straight seconds.

some adults came to just see the film. They came close to the start time hoping to not be bothered by the egg hunt, but because there was no real cut off/end time, and no reset of the room, it was still kinda sorta maybe not really happening around them, and they were annoyed. WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT I TOLD MY BOSS WOULD HAPPEN.

several volunteers now have now independently reported to me that they've had to intervene with this same ill-behaved boy. He tried to go backstage, tried to pull the fire extinguisher off the wall, running even though we keep saying not to, climbing things, pulling on curtains. I'm tired of being nice and inform every one of them, bitchily, that yeah, that's my coworker's grandson. Crazy huh. Yeah really inappropriate and unprofessional I agree. Yeah :)

THE MOVIE FINALLY STARTS. Ten minutes late for some reason. A lot of people end up leaving about 20 minutes in because their kids are under/over stimulated and can't sit still any longer. WHICH IS EXACTLY WHAT- * I am pulled off stage with a shepherd's crook*

anyways, funny detail! Two weeks ago I went to my boss and said look, I'm really stressed out about this Easter thing, I genuinely think it's going to go badly if it's done the way you're asking me to do it, please just let me use the schedule of events I wrote up in our first meeting it will go so much better. And she said no :) and said "Ashland I think it will go fine if we do it the way me & Katrina are planning. And if it doesn't I will eat crow" and I said do you promise. And she said "of course :)" and I said okay I'm holding you to that :) And we both laughed. But I wasn't joking.

 ANYWAYYYYYS I spent like an hour and a half in the lobby with my boss while the movie was going, covered in sweat because I’m the one who was Actually Working, and she awkwardly made small talk and avoided all eye contact the whole time. I think she's really hoping I drop it. I won't though.

Katrina is nowhere to be seen for some time now. Again, I'm really confused as to whether she was supposed to be working or not, as she did nothing 

after its all over and all the volunteers (tired and annoyed) are getting their coats. Family Friend A invites us all over to her and Family Friend B's place for drinks because "what the fuck was that. I mean you warned us it was going to be bad but what the hell was that".

the day wrapped up pretty well at least. I got to drink soooo much alcohol at A & B's house and it was so fun to bitch and complain for three hours and then my mom bought my drunk ass fast food :) love is real btw.

tune in to the season premiere this Tuesday to see the thrilling conclusion (my staff meeting is on Tuesday) (I have four pages of notes) (and I fully intend to take up the whole meeting talking about what a shit show this was) (lol + rofl + neener neener + told you so + get fucked)

[knightotoc]

So the final ep of Rings of Power came out yesterday, and I binged the whole season with my dad. Kind of a rough show to watch with him, since it's all about mean dads! How far this story has gone since Tolkien wrote it for his kids.

I went into it with low expectations, but it ended up disappointing me in compelling ways. Like Star Trek movies, the even-numbered episodes are better than the odd-numbered ones. Late-game reveals retroactively add some thrill, but can't go back in time to erase the initial tedium. The show has the same structural and characterizational flaws as last decade's LotR spinoff, the Hobbit trilogy: unrestrained emptiness in both showtime and our hero's brains. These goodguys are stupid, and their writers have even less respect for the audience.

But stupidity, while an unexpected legacy for the world's most overthought fictional setting, is not a killing blow to it. We've always had Pippin, after all. The thing that hurts, the thing that makes RoP unique, is indifference. These characters, with a handful of important exceptions, do not love each other. They certainly don't hate each other. They just don't care. In the first scene children destroy each other's toys, and nobody really grows out of that pointlessly selfish mindset.

Fight choreography is self-centered and nasty. Shot composition is lonely. Nobody talks to each other with the goal of actually communicating; they speak in dramatic pauses, anecdotes, twists and turns. At one point, a blind woman asks what has happened, and no one answers her. Her father died. Everyone else is too far inside their own feelings to tell the person for whom that matters most.

The leadership and general population of the elves, dwarves, and humans are bigoted isolationists. The villains, a host of orcs who wear cool skulls on their heads like Cubone, display far more fellowship and joie de vivre than any group we're supposed to like. They even call their leader Dad, and, by this show's standards, he's above-average at that role.

But the most shocking intrusion of indifference is with the horrible nomadic harfoots. You know how ohana means family, and family means nobody gets left behind or forgotten? I don't think they know about ohana, Pip. These cultish hobbit-knockoffs condemn anyone who misbehaves, and their family, to the back of the group when they migrate. If not for some supernatural help, our plucky heroine would apparently have gotten picked off in the night by the cruel forces of nature. If the hobbits had been anything like the harfoots, the only logical message of the original story would have been "Fuck the Shire."

But I said there were important exceptions. Of the multiple subplots, at least two revolve around genuine affection, and at least one of those is actually cool and fun. Firstly, there is the grand romance of sexy elf Arondir and lovely human Bronwyn, original characters who have to drag around his lazy coworkers, her stupid neighbors, and a cute kid.

Secondly, there is the rekindled friendship of conflicted dwarf prince Durin and ambitious half-elf Elrond...who is not only my favorite character in LotR but one of my favorite characters in anything, so I am happy to report that he slays in this one. And in the end, for me, that's all that really matters.

Durin and Elrond's friendship is not only beautiful on its own, but it shines all the brighter among the cynicism and apathy that characterizes the rest of this show. After some genuinely great shenanigans, Elrond starts to give Durin a literal elevator pitch about some bullshit. Suddenly, Durin tearfully confronts Elrond with the fact that, though they used to be friends, Elrond missed Durin's wedding and the birth of two of his children. Elrond is taken aback -- after all, twenty years is much shorter for an elf than any other being. He apologizes. They hang out. They take a vow on the mountain. They defend each other to their shitty kings, at the risk of their own futures. Durin almost tells Elrond his true name, and Elrond's like, "Save it for Heaven." They cry because they wuv each other so much. It fucking rules. Eat your hearts out, Legolas and Gimli.

Unfortunately Elrond's not a dad yet -- he's a little baby who looks like a combination of Hermey and MatPat (pictured) -- so the proportion of bad dads to good dads remains overwhelmingly poor. The only actually good one was the one who sat next to me while we endured this terrible production.

[phanfictioncatalogue]

Awkward Flirting Masterlist

A Book, An Umbrella, and Two Carmel Macchiatos (ao3) - koleen

Summary: A Coffeeshop AU. Mute!Phil.

a game of chance (ao3) - danhoweiis

Summary: Phil worked at Chance and Counters, a board game cafe in North East London. One definite perk of the last few weeks had been the guy who Phil was now delivering a coffee too. Phil had been smitten from the second he stepped through the door which was something he now wished he hadn’t told his friend and manger Nate, so he could have saved himself being teased every time Cute Dan (as Phil had affectionately called him after overhearing someone say his name) came in

all i want for christmas (is you) (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summary: He finds himself huffing out a small, high-pitched laugh that he couldn’t even dream of passing off as part of his natural register. “Hah… yeah. Mhm. Nice. Morn… ing. Yup. Sure is.”

Dan’s smile falls a tiny bit, a hint of confusion flickering behind his eyes. Unfortunately, that’s an expression Phil is all too familiar with receiving.

AU where Dan is Phil's Christmas coworker crush, and awkward boys are awkward.

blanket of stars (ao3) - silentdescant

Summary: “That’s all for now, thank you.”

“I’ll be back to check on you in a bit.”

The whole script is so routine, Phil thinks his brain would short-circuit if either of them deviated from it. Dan walks away and Phil sinks lower in his seat, sighing into his blue drink.

“When are you gonna ask him out, man?” Martyn asks.

Blushes and A Cup of Coffee (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Phil was expecting one of the stereotypical first questions, ‘what’s your favourite colour?’ Or ‘where were you born?”

Instead, Dan asked, “Do you like coffee?” and Phil couldn’t help the short bark of laughter that he let out at the strange question.

Or

The two idiots and their first date

Birds of a Feather Steal Together (ao3) - orphan_account

Summary: Dan never expected anything remotely interesting to happen during his summer job at a petting zoo. But when he catches a boy with bright blue eyes and a cute laugh trying to smuggle a bunch of ducklings out of the farm, things take a much more interesting turn...

blow a kiss, fire a gun (ao3) - The General Phanchild (orphan_account)

Summary: "If I don't improve... he'll absolutely obliterate me. And there's nothing I can do to stop him." Secret Agent “Gold,” or Dan Howell, is less than thrilled when he is forced to team up with new recruit “Amethyst,” Phil Lester. Phil is a former trainee; clumsy and overly apologetic, while Dan’s six years of experience have left him skilled and stealthy, yet completely emotionless. Throughout their mission to bring a mysterious super-villain to justice while travelling the city of Tokyo, Phil tries to come to terms with his illogical fear of Dan, while realising what Dan's true intentions with him are.

could’ve knocked me out with a feather (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: “Thank you, love you,” says the guy, and freezes. Dan’s smile suddenly feels a lot more genuine.

Cross My Heart (ao3) - kitchen_sinks

Summary: Armed with nothing but a baseball bat, it’s Dan versus the mysterious stranger who’s broken into his flat, but oh wait he’s kind of hot… Awkward flirting and bandaging of injuries ensue.

Lights, Camera, Satisfaction (ao3) - americanphancakes

Summary: Dan's landed a dream acting role, working with a director he's always admired but is now crushing on badly. And today, he has to shoot a love scene. What could go wrong?

The Director!Phil AU that actually several people asked for.

New Year, New Us (ao3) - BlueFox1319, UnusPhanus

Summary: “Dan hurry we are going to be late, PJ and the others will be here any minute to pick us up! It’s already seven, we need to be at the restaurant by eight!” Phil yelled down the hall at his boyfriend. December 31st, New Year's Eve, every year the pair went out with friends and spent the first night of the new year together. For Dan and Phil, tonight would be a little different though, Phil had been planning this for months

possibly, maybe, i’m falling (ao3) - lestered (clonetrobed)

Summery: It’s just another boring day at Dan’s summer internship. Luckily, there’s an accidental coffee date waiting for him at the customer service desk.

Prestissimo (ao3) - worriedpeach (skeletonflowers)

Summery: When Dan starts to get notes in his locker in the form of terrible pick up lines, he doesn't know who it could be and he doesn't really care. All he cares about is his violin and his studies. He could care less about the nonchalant cellist who never seems to take anything seriously.

Professionally, Yours (ao3) - deletable_bird

Summary: Dan is an overworked, underpaid, very homosexual uni student in need of an easy job. Phil is a successful, rather lonely businessman in need of a housekeeper. This is their story. Fluff/smut, 31.2k, written for the Phandom Big Bang 2016

Three Tattoos (ao3) - greensweater

Summery: When a talkative, blue-eyed boy named Phil Lester walks into Dan Howell's tattoo parlor one dusky autumn afternoon, Dan isn't sure what to make of him. But when Phil keeps coming back, their one-time connection grows into friendship, and eventually, something more.

Two Blushing Pilgrims (ao3) - hxwell

Summary: "Our teacher ships the two of us and we're reading Romeo and Juliet" au//Dan owns 7 pairs of the same jeans and high-fives everyone he sees while Phil listens to Neutral Milk Hotel and paints in his spare time

[sweetandmeat]

whole little story i wrote in my friend’s dms between bob and miles while half asleep vv 

how bob and miles meet: bob sees miles as the next victim of his general escapades of being a cannibal, but when infodumping to miles he corrects him actually, and bob gets curious about what he knows so what Was a near deadly scenario turns into a surprisingly pleasant conversation, bob reclining onto a wall while miles recomposes himself while listing off anatomy facts to a very fascinated bob.

they part ways, and only find eachother again at random intervals around the town later on. the town isnt too big, so it's not to hard to crash into someone you may know, even if its a serial killer outside of his usual attire, recognized by voice alone.

they get to talking, get to know eachother, and bob invites miles to the decrepit isolated SHITTY apartments he lives in and miles is like dude. Nah. NAH. rents getting harsh for me do you maybe? want to move in? the company would be nice. plus you get anatomy facts all day everyday. HOWEVER, chill out a little with the killing. i see a new vody in the newspapers almost every fuckin day dude!

so they now live together and dont Actually talk that much. bob does his own thing whereas being an intern in a hospital is Long hours. he comes home more and more worn out constantly. one week it is SO BAD he gets maybe 10 whole hours of sleep in three days and is having THE WORST constant mental breakdown in his life.

bob, NOT one to usually ask about the mental state of others is even pretty worried. dude barely talks anymore just sleeps and goes to work so hes like awh shit ok. Whats going on. and miles is at his wits end and EXPLODES in all his pent up fear and anger. job is considering kicking him out since he cant keep up with the same resilience as the other interns and residency is almost at his doorstep but hes Struggling to assist and nearly fucked up in the OR and hes SOOOO tired. he can't solve an issue to a patient they've opened up with a pulmonary issue that everyone is stumped with and he's got the feeling that if he gets taken off the care list for this patient he's going to be out of a job soon or WORSE. he's paranoid about being blacklisting from the medical field (but that's pure paranoia talking)

bob just kinda is at a loss. he doesnt really kniw how to soothe these things super well other than like a hug or cuddling but when it comes to Words or other actions he falls short. so he asks what he could possibly do. and miles is like "UGH i dunno man  i just fucking WISH i could just stare at some fuckin lungs to try and figure iut what i can do for this patient. cause if not im a goner, and you wouldve wasted your time Not eating me four months ago." and bobs like oh. I Can Do That

next day miles comes home to a whole pair of lungs on the dinner table NOT PRESERVED AT ALL stinking up the place. he hates it but its not Much worse than the usual smell of an OR so after the initial "WHAT THE FUCK" moment he looks over to an eager (but also oddly nervous) looking bob and gets to work dissecting the lungs to figure his predicament out.

it helps! A LOT! he actually thinks he has a solid course of action and fir the first time in about a month he gets a SOMEWHAT ok amt of sleep in preparation to pitch his idea to his residents

it goes well, and now he's feeling a little better. but now hes got his next case, and bobs on it again to retrieve another organ. rinse and repeat! suddenly miles is no longer struggling to keep up with his other interns and hes doing Good (to the surpriseof all of his coworkers and Annoyance of a few shitheads). it raises a few eyebrows but they ultimately just see it as a "fuck. now this guys a contender for residency Too. ugh w/e."

AND THEN. bob gets arrested. he isnt seen for a few years, and miles is So worried for a good year before his saddness kinda fades into the background.  he knows what happened but hes just, Sad. and he kinda saw it coming. but no tracks led back to him, which was surprising since bob seemed very Ride Or Die about everything.

SO. miles continues on. life as usual, he's finally a resident he's doing well he's got a house for himself now though it's still just him in it. and them the events of tender treats happens. and theres a Corpse knocking on his front door. a LITERAL corpse. bullet wounds, tire tracks, severe burns and all and miles is like WHAT THE FUCK!!!

bob just kinda hobbles in, and lays down on the couch. miles FRANTICALLY fishing out his firstaid kit and it stiching uo everything and putting ointment pretty much Everywhere he can and wrapping wounds the WHOLE nine yards. hes freaking out about the bullet wounds and while fishing it out bob is just like Hissing in rage about how his night went. tensions are high and miles keeps SCOLDING the guy until he snaps and they start arguing BUT not for long

its out of worry. and miles bites back i "THATS IT! i know all aggression comes from fear so WHAT ARE YOU SCARED OF?!" and bob shouts back that hes TERRIFIED of being forgotten. he doesnt care HOW he's remembered he was just horrified and scared of being forgotten by the town. and ESPECIALLY scared of being forgotten by miles. everything falls silent, and after miles double and triple checks bobs wounds they fall asleep together on that couch

next day they catch up! bob doesnt have much to say, he just spent all his time in solitary confinement, what he Does say is what he was up to when they lived together that first time. he got tangled in the cults shenanigans, and was offered the amulet. he was essentially being used as a distractor for the cult, all eyes would be on the cannibal killer running amok so no one would pay attention to the far more calculated and discreet actions of the cult. he got to do what he wabted, they got to do what they wanted. the amulet just insured that hed be able to do it for Far longer, not having to worry abour death as much. he became NEAR impossible. which also meant he didnt actually follow miles' rule of "dont start shit as often." he earned a smack on the head when recounting that one

the amulet, THOUGH it got damaged, insured he stayed alive even after that second encounter with the police in tender treats, but its healing properties were gone, so he tanked all the attacks and Felt it all. hence the corpse at miles' doorstep.

miles forces him to lay low at his place and NO MORE KILLING. (bob doesnt listen to that last one really, but his attacks are incredibly sparse now) and they have hot gay sex now yippee end of story (for now)

[waspenned]

scenes from an italian restaurant • part seven • peter parker

you’ve never seen peter like this before. apparently, now is the time to be honest with each other. • 4k

warnings: a tiny gun whoops, some suggestive language but no smut, swearing

now playing: honesty by billy joel

part one / previous

a/n: IT TOOK A WHILE BUT THE NEW CHAP IS HERE my b ive been swamped LOL join my taglist for a wee message from me when I upload new fic xx

If it was any other time, the expression on Peter’s face, marred by his waiter’s cloth, would be hilarious. However, your brain is still dealing with the emotional whiplash of the moment, every fuse in your brain simultaneously shorting out and melting the whole thing into a puddle. Your ears ring with panic, the both of you completely still, sprung like a trap ready for prey.

“That was like, a rat, right-?” You whisper, and Peter shushes you, eyes wide, grip tight on your hips. His eyes are on you, but his focus is clearly somewhere else, the hairs on his forearms pricked up, and you can practically see him calculating. It’s semi-ridiculous, the both of you naked from the waist down, but the heartbeat pounding in the back of your throat is making it hard for you to see the comedy.

When you say his name, a soft murmur, he straightens a little, taking in a sharp breath. He seems to have figured out whatever he was deducing in his head, and he helps you down, setting you on the floor and gathering your uniform trousers and underwear.

“Pete, it’s probably nothing-”

“Get dressed.” He whispers, barely audible, a finger over his lips, and you comply almost robotically. It’s odd, the way he’s moving, tiptoeing around all silent, like some sort of cat. He’s always been strong, you knew that, but every step is incredibly controlled as he redresses, limbs tense and firm like a gymnast. You’d have to ask about it later, if he'd had any training. He’s over at the door in an instant, while you’re still struggling with your fly, cracking the door open a sliver and peering through it. You attempt to speak again, fill the awkward, crushing silence, only for him to shush you.

You’d be lying if you weren’t a little disappointed, the anticipation of everything still wound up in your gut like a coiled spring, your flesh still hot and sensitive to the touch. Everything else has been replaced by a sheer, dreadful feeling, though - oscillating wildly between the anxiety of maybe being caught nearly fucking your coworker in the pantry, and the embarrassment of nearly fucking your coworker in the pantry. Maybe this whole thing was a blessing in disguise; nothing good would have come of whatever was about to happen between you two, no matter how bad you really, really wanted it - and still maybe, kinda did. You could brush off a kiss (well, in theory) but you can’t brush off knowing what Peter looks like naked, how he feels in your hand, how he sounds when you find just the right pace. The acrid burn of regret is already charring your tongue, your face burning in the pitch dark.

Oh, God. Peter has seen you naked.

“Uh, so, about the-” You begin, barely at a whisper, deciding to do damage control to avoid as much awkwardness as possible. Trying your best to tiptoe over to the door, Peter shushes you again, clamping a hand down over your mouth. Almost instinctively, he’s pulling your body close to his, tucking you in to his chest and wrapping an arm around you. He’s still staring intently into the crack in the door, pupils moving a mile a minute. If it was any other moment, you'd be melting away into his touch, but the tenseness of him is seeping into you, your heart pounding.

There’s a horrid, weighted moment of silence, waiting for whatever it was to make another noise, or for the coast to be clear, and you can feel Peter’s heartbeat strong and paced against your shoulder blades. The clock in the dining room ticks, ticks, ticks, and what must be a century passes.

And then, another noise.

Peter’s hold on you tightens, and he jolts from the door, shutting it over and pushing you into the furthest corner of the pantry. It’s unmistakable what the noise was, you heard it hundreds of times a shift, and only now do you fully realise just what’s happening. In the front of Joe’s, the till must be about forty years old, the numbers worn away with countless greasy, callused fingers, then drawn anew with a sharpie. It’s sticky and rusted slightly on the drawer, and makes a heavy groaning sound when it’s opened, followed by the rolling of the hinge tracks and the tinkle of quarters rattling in the chipped plastic drawers.

And unless Joe’s has suddenly become haunted, someone is in the front of the diner, and they are opening up the cash register.

“Oh my God.” You’re panicking, eyes wide, voice only just reigned into a hissing whisper-shout, watching Peter root through all of his pockets, then his apron. Then, he starts ransacking the pantry, clearly looking for something.

“Please, you have to be quiet.” He’s almost begging - he was doing something akin to begging not five instants ago, but this was different, more selfless. Whatever moment you had was long gone; replaced by an awful, palpable fear that lingers in the air like smog that burns your lungs. There’s no time to mourn the almost, because Peter’s practically turning the whole pantry upside down, somehow completely silently.

“Oh my God, the diner’s being robbed.”

“Yes, I know.”

“Oh my God.” You can’t help it, your brain is barely working now, sparking and smoking from having to shift gears this quickly, and you can’t really bring yourself to say much else. You’ve been scared before - Sal offered to drive you home once, and you only barely lived to regret it - but that seemed trivial, surface-level. This was something rawer and colder, deeper, a flood of pure fear. Your hormones are all over the place, drowning you, the adrenaline slowly plummeting you from arousal to a pent-up, jumpy sense of terror. Checking your pockets, you notice a distinct lack of your phone.

You’re doing really well at the whole manager thing so far. Good job, idiot.

“I don’t have my phone.”

“Me neither.” Peter’s looking you up and down, frowning, like he’s weighing things up in his head, but you’ve got no idea quite what. He seems to come to a decision though, pulling a folding chair from a gap in the shelves and propping it against the door to wedge it shut.

“We’re, uh, gonna just have to stay put and wait for help.”

You can’t help it, but through the panic, you’re rolling your eyes at him. It’s definitely the safest plan of action, but something irks you about just having to sit there and let some random rob Joe’s dry, twiddling your thumbs. Something irks you even more about who ‘help’ might come from, because if you couldn’t call the police, there was only one other person who ‘help’ could possibly be.

“Oh, from who, Spider-Man?” It perhaps comes out more venomous than you mean it to, and Peter’s alarmed, more panicked by the idea of Spider-Man than an actual, genuine burglar stealing his wages.

“No!” He blurts out, before taking a breath and trying to wrestle his voice back to a whisper. He’s hesitant, trying to style it out, but it’s just sort of awkward and stilted. “I mean, maybe - I don’t know!”

“I was joking, man, why would he help us?” Suffice to say, your opinion on Spider-Man hasn’t improved since you last spoke about him - if anything, Peter’s joined the ranks of your coworkers in poking fun at your Spider-based opinions, elbowing you and bringing you tiny house spiders he finds in the dirty corners of the diner, holding up the glass and coaster he caught it with. The jokes were fine, you could handle them pretty well at this point, but the actual presentation of insects was far too much - they were weirdly attracted to Peter, you think. He never had too much trouble catching them and if anything, he liked being able to set them free outside. He’d always have this funny look on his face, the same expression as when he’d serve a customer a perfectly fried egg, like he’d done a good job and got to be all proud of himself.

Now, though, it seems his patience with you is finally beginning to wear thin. It’s oddly serious, more serious than talking about his Uncle Ben, and even more serious than when he was fully ready to have sex in the diner’s pantry, kissing you hard against the very same shelf that had nearly crushed you a few months prior.

“I don’t want to talk about this right now.” His voice hits a tone you’ve never heard from him before, something lower and straighter than usual, roughed by the hushed volume of it. You feel your stubbornness kicking up for the first time in a while with him, wanting to dig your heels in.

“Neither do I, but Spider-Man’s not gonna be at Joe’s of all places, Peter. Why would he care about us? There’ll be something blowing up across town that’s more important.”

“What is your problem with him?” Your tone ignites something else in him now, and it seems you’ve finally managed to strike a nerve with him. If it was still the summer, the younger, bitterer you would have rejoiced at finally getting a rise out of him - but now, it just produces some sort of sinking feeling in the pit of you.

“He doesn’t rescue people in real life, we’re not special. We’re two normies in a shitty diner on the closing shift - he’s got bank robbers to stop.” You can tell Peter wants to say something, and part of you wants him to argue with you, but he won’t. His face shifts, it's minuscule but you see it anyway, and he swallows whatever he wants to say, taking a breath instead.

“Please, we have to just hide and be quiet, okay? We’ll call the cops when they leave.” He’s trying to save the situation, and even though he turns around, you can tell his brain is computing, calculating how to barricade the door, or lock you in - keep you safe. You’re scowling now, and you grab at his arm, spinning him back towards you again - he doesn’t fight you, just looks alarmed. Guilt twists in your gut.

“What? No way dude, those are our fucking wages - we don’t get paid if they get stolen.” That rings in Peter’s head, you can see it echoing around behind his eyes, and his expression shifts slightly. It sounds dramatic, but it was true - the diner was old school and family-run, there was no ‘upper management’ or well of resources to pay you from. If there was no money in the till, there was no money going into your bank account. This usually meant that your wages were quite high, because the staff was so small, and Joe’s was popular with the city - but getting robbed before you had managed to lock the money in the office was a certain downside.

“So you want to get shot?” Something in you drops.

You didn’t know there was a gun involved. What seemed like pretty moderate danger had now escalated very quickly, and you weren’t quite sure what to do about it.

“They have a gun?”

“I mean, I don’t know!”

“Oh, Peter!”

Somewhere in the past, you’re stuck in the staff room, watching the kitchen slowly fill with smoke and left to wonder if your coworkers even got out of the diner unharmed, unable to help. In the present, you feel like you owe them something, some level of risk, to get even. People need that money, you need that money, but other people have, like, kids and shit - so you’re going to make sure they get it.

Ah, fuck. Goddamn whatever complex you have going on at the moment. Goddamn crime. Goddamn Spider-Man especially.

“Stay here.”

“What? What are you doing?” Peter watches you with a grave look on his face, pale and ragged, as you search through the cupboard clutter for anything that may be of use. You find a large pizza pan - maybe useful as a shield? - stained brown from the oven and heavy in your grasp. It’ll do, and you realise with a biled taste in your mouth that it’s really all you have to defend yourself. Pete grabs at you, tugging at your uniform shirt in an entirely different manner now; you know whatever expression he has on his face will wrench your heart from your chest, so you avoid looking at it despite the comfort it usually brings you. 

“You’re not going out there.”

“I’m the most senior member of staff here, you have to do what I tell you to.”

“No, I don’t!”

“Just stay here, Pete. Please.” He’s trying his best to be defiant, but you’ll get your way - you don’t really have another choice. You’re technically responsible for him, the restaurant, and the wages currently being ripped from the till and stolen from the people you’ve worked with for years. Spurred on by some stupid sense of duty, and what can only be described as a flight response to the intimate moment not a few minutes prior; there’s nothing else to do about it, you have to keep Joe’s safe, and this - apparently - is the only viable way your brain can cook up right now..

“I’m in charge, okay? I’m in charge of you, and the rest of these people, and I have to look after them.”

“Stop it.” Peter’s eyes are wide and oddly shiny, too glossy for you to look at comfortably, and you avoid his gaze as if to give him privacy in whatever moment of emotion he’s experiencing. This just seems to upset him more, and he takes your face in his hands, his palms warm against your cheeks, the skin roughed from labour. “I’ll deal with it, okay? Let me do it.”

“Pete, these people rely on me to look after them and make sure they get paid. I’m their manager.” You’re trying to get away from him, no matter how much his touch quiets the panicked thumping in your chest, and he looks at you like you’ve broken his heart. “And with that role comes responsibility-”

Peter pales almost instantly, his face falling, tears springing to his eyes. Something inside you rips into a deep chasm at the sight of him, his voice intense and desperate.

“Don’t. Don’t finish that sentence. Please.” He’s tugging, grasping, at you now. Fingers scrambling along your skin for anything to hold tight. “You can’t go. Not after you’ve said that.”

The moment is raw, and there’s something underneath his skin that you seem to have pricked, some nerve you’ve accidentally struck. You’re trying to find something to say, to make it better, but you can’t think of anything.

“You can’t. I can’t lose-” Peter cuts himself off, his words dying away on his tongue. He’s looking you up and down, hands flexing at his sides. For a millisecond, you can tell he’s considering something, fingers stretching towards his palms. Then, nothing. “Please.”

And before he can protest any further, you’ve slipped through the pantry door, and slid the metal bolt into the slot on the doorjamb, locking it behind you.

The diner itself is eerily quiet and dark, brief flashes of light coming from the robber’s cellphone light as they illuminate the cash register. The atmosphere is thick, but you can hear the rustle of dollar bills in their hands, even though you’re a good few meters away from them. Crouching, you sneak across the kitchen, to the serving hatch, then dare to take a peek.

You can see a dark figure now, dressed in black, stuffing the day’s earnings into a backpack, backlit by the streetlights. All of a sudden, everything’s very real, and you feel as if your heart fell out of you a good while ago - like you left it with Peter on the pantry floor. This was no longer a hypothetical matter of moral duty, this was happening and it was happening now.

And somehow, the only part of your brain still working (the part that isn’t focused on the way your skin tingles after Peter kissed it) has decided that if the real Spider-Man isn’t coming, you’ll just have to be Spider-Man instead. A lot easier to say than do, probably.

Waiting until the intruder has turned away, you scurry along the floor, crouched low, until you can get yourself pressed flat along the back wall, and under the counter behind them. Your fingers are cramping from holding onto the pizza pan so tight, slippy in your nervously sweaty grasp. You adjust your hold on it, though you’re not quite sure what you’re going to do with it. You really should have thought this through. You probably should have stayed in the pantry with Peter.

Then, on the ceiling, something moves.

You swear for a second, that there’s a big, dark mass, creeping along the ceiling like a cockroach; the sight of it sending a bolt of fear through your spine. It’s something eldritch and awful, all limbs and joints but still vaguely human under the shadows cast over it. The stranger, nearly finished with their ransacking of the cash register, drops the wad of cash they were clutching, gasping at the shape on the ceiling. The bills fall inches from your toes, and the thick, hard hands of a man come scrabbling into view to try and collect them. The back wall is cold and hard against your back as you press yourself into it, tucking your body in on itself to make yourself as small as possible.

You think he’s still looking at whatever’s on the ceiling as he tries to gather the money, because he only hesitates when his fingers accidentally brush one of your undone laces.

Fuck.

Your heartbeat pounds in your ears as he stills, as he turns his head to look down. You can’t see his face, just hear his rattling breath and the rustle of his clothes, watching his hand collect the rest of the bills and then inching towards your foot. Your mind is racing, trying to decide whether or not to attempt to kick him, his dirty fingers outstretching towards your ankle as you push yourself further and further into the back wall.

That is until an odd thumping sound pierces the diner - rubber on tile, and silk shot through the air.

The stranger makes an odd sound, gravelled and rough as his hands, straightening up. Then, there's a strained grunt as some force slams him backwards against the back counter, the cutlery clattering in the trays. You’re scrambling out from behind his legs in an instant, checking the ceiling again for whatever thing you saw. It seems to have disappeared without a trace, but the stranger isn’t bothered about it anymore, because he’s regaining his footing and looking straight at you. You’re not sure if you recognise him or not, he’s just sort of generic-looking, but he’s freaked out, eyes alight like a caged animal. You attempt to gather the momentum to vault the serving counter, but it’s like you’re moving through syrup, your legs weighted and stuck.

He’s wiping some odd, tacky substance from his chest that you can’t make out in the low light, something that clings to his fingers like glue, then he’s reaching into his pocket and grabbing around for something you’re not sure you want to see. There’s movement behind you, in the front of the house, and someone calls your name from miles away, but you’re too focused on whatever’s about to happen in front of you. You blink, and a series of things happen.

One; something sends you stumbling to the side, a firm force planted into your shoulder blades, the warmth of it blossoming on your skin. You manage to catch yourself on the edge of the back counter before you fall into it and hurt yourself.

Two; there’s a gunshot, and the shattering of glass, a hair away from where you were just standing. The sound reverberates within you, turning your bones to puddles, and humming in the pizza pan that has managed to stay in your hand this whole time.

Three; you look up, and you’re greeted with none other than the business end of a pistol, a dark, unblinking eye. In that same moment, something flies into vision - some white streak of fluid - and rips the gun from his hand, sticking it to the back wall.

Four; before you can process anything that’s just happened, your body takes its own initiative, and slams the pizza pan down on his head. Whoever the fuck was in the diner is knocked out cold now, collapsing in a crumpled pile at your feet.

Your hands are still shaking when you come to, looking at the white substance that seems to have stuck the guy’s pistol to the wall. It’s thick and tacky, it forms tendons and limbs, it stretches its fingers out across the wallpaper like a hand, the gun nestled in its palm. It’s stringy, like the stuff you found on the jar in the pantry, all those weeks ago, after you sent everything tumbling to the floor and Peter caught you.

Looking in the direction of the gunshot, you almost want to laugh. On the photo wall, one of the frames has been blown to pieces, the bullet buried deep through the plaster right where your shocked, reindeer-antlered head would have been. You suppose you got your wish after all. Maybe you could get Sal to keep it with the hole instead of replacing it with a new one; make up some bullshit about preserving the history of the diner. You’d have to show Peter.

Peter.

“Peter!” You say his name in a gasp, shocked back to the situation at hand, unsure if he’s safe or not. What if more people came in through the back and ransacked the place? Stabbed him up? Left him for dead on the kitchen floor? Despite this, you still hope that when you look behind you, he won’t be there. You don’t even want to think about what could come after.

You’re turning, hoping you just spoke out loud to an empty diner; you’re turning with no idea what you’re going to do, about Peter or the ceiling monster you apparently now have to deal with.

“Are you okay?”

Great. You’re not sure to be upset or relieved.

Peter says your name about a hundred times, between strings of fervent apologies and other anxious ramblings. His hair is ruffled into a wild thatch from raking his fingers through, his face sparked into a hybrid of focus and panic. The vice on your chest relaxes from sheer relief that he’s close to you and unharmed - then immediately clutches you again when you realise he did the exact opposite of what you asked.

And then there’s that gaping pit in your stomach. The one that’s been growing since you had to lock yourself in the staff room and plug the door with old tablecloths to stop the smoke from getting through.

He’s alert and wound tight, that beautiful brain of his working a mile a minute; his hand is outstretched towards you, his eyebrows furrowed low. He’s still mumbling and you’re not listening, your ears ringing from the gunshot; his voice just adding to the din.

“Peter.” You say again, dumbstruck, and he cringes, screwing his eyes up as he keeps talking, the whole thing coming out in one long sound. Something simmers under your skin and in your gut.

“I’m sorry, I know you told me to stay, I’m sorry, I just kept thinking about Ben, and the gun, and-“

“Peter.”

“And what you said before, I couldn’t just sit there knowing you could get hurt, and after I lost-“

“Peter!” This one cuts through to him, puts a stopper in his mouth. You’re mad, that’s what it is, and the adrenaline pumping through you doesn’t help. It’s confusing, you can’t quite pinpoint what you’re mad at, but it’s got you wound up - so you pick something to vent your frustration at; your hand flung towards the white shit on the wall, glueing down a weapon that could have killed either one of you. “What the fuck is that?!”

Peter flinches. Strong, brave Peter flinches at you. He’s small, tiny even, shrinking under your gaze and betraying his every emotion with his eyes. He’s caught, cornered, backed into something he couldn’t possibly get himself out of.

“Is that your question for the day?” He asks, breathless, and you grow more exasperated.

“What?”

“Is that your question for the day?” When he repeats himself, he’s louder, but his still voice trembles. Usually, he fidgets, but he’s unnaturally still - rigid in what you can only describe as not a fight or flight response, but a freeze. “Because if it is, I have to be honest.”

You don’t want to push him, but it seems like you’ve fallen into your old ways of snark and bitterness, because you’re snapping at him, even though his reaction makes you want to cry.

“Yeah, it is! Does it matter?”

He’s upset - you’ve upset him, you horrid thing. Peter opens, then closes his mouth, and repeats this a good few times before he finally settles on what he wants to say. He’s shaking, you can see it in his hands as he turns to check that the intruder is still out cold on the diner floor.

In that same moment, you realise what all this mysterious tacky stuff has been - what you found on that jar, what’s glueing the gun to the wall. You’ve seen it before, splatters of it on the sidewalk, hanging from streetlights and awnings, trailing in the wind from skyscrapers. It’s not glue, or streamers, or spray paint - it’s a web.

Peter Parker takes a breath, and holds your gaze.

“I’m kind of sort of Spider-Man.”

[moonlightyeager]

my savior

summary || losing your job was hard especially in a new city. thankfully someone has a offer

pairing || mafia!bucky x female!reader

warnings || creepy guys (but bucky saves the day)

note || after this im gonna start doing other au’s beside mafia!bucky

please don’t steal my work!

part 2

Losing your job was not part of the plan when you moved to New York. You still weren’t familiar with the city. It was pitch black dark out again with small street lights illuminating the sidewalk. You stay concealed underneath the shadows as you tried to make your way back home.

Loud music floated through your ears as you passed by bars and clubs which were at their full peak of excitement. You didn’t happen to notice a couple of guys standing deeper within the shadows of an alleyway. A cold sweaty hand gripped your wrist as you were pulled back deeper into the darkness.

“What’s a girl like you doing out here all alone?” A man cooed. Ice-cold fear ran through your veins as the man tried to tug you closer. Your other hand shot up to grab his wrist to try and pry your other wrist from him.

“Let go!” teeth gritted you pulled harder at your enclosed wrist. He tried to grab your purse, but you quickly ducked under his arm and ran away. Except for his hand again grabbed your arm as you tried to leave.

* ˚ ✦

He had been leaving the club early in hopes of finally getting some rest. Something had happened at the club and only he could take care of him: Sam and Steve trailed behind him as they laughed like schoolgirls about something.

“Let go!” A women’s voice came from nearby. Bucky came to a stop nearly making Steve and Sam run into each other.

“One of you start the car. I’ll be back.”

* ˚ ✦

“She said to let go.” A third voice came. The two men suddenly turned around to see a fourth figure emerge. You could barley make out his face, but by his voice you knew these men somehow knew him. They quickly ran away in fear of what would happen to them. The man came closer and you moved away a little bit in fear.

“I’m not going to hurt you. I just heard you and thought you needed some help.”

“Well, thank you. I’m glad you were nearby,” a soft smile came to your face as you got closer to the man. You were so close now you could see his features in the dark. His dark blue eyes seemed to expand and his short cut chestnut hair.

“If you don’t mind me asking why were you out so late?” His voice seemed to soften towards you.

“Oh, I went back to collect my things at my old job and got lost on my way back home.”

“Sounds like your new to the city,” a small smirk came to his lips as he watched you chew your lip slightly.

“I am. I moved here only a few weeks ago,” your eyes moved back to his as you noticed his full attention on you.

“I have a open position.”

“Hmm?” Your eyes were filled with confusion as you stared at the tall man before you.

“I have an opening at my club for a waitress position,” he pointed to the club down the street that had a line wrapped around it. You had heard your old coworkers talk about how it was the biggest club in all of New York City.

“I would love it. Thank you,” that soft smile you had only grown into a bigger one.

“No problem. Just get home safe,” he was hesitant to let you go home by your self and you could tell that he wasn’t quite sure.

“I’ll be okay. Thank you again,” you called as you turned the corner. A wider smile coming up on your face at the thought of having a new job.

* ˚ ✦

“What are you two waiting for?” A scowl etched onto Bucky’s face as he saw Sam and Steve waiting around the corner.

“We were waiting for you boss, but you took too long. Thought we could investigate,” Sam snickered slightly.

“One of you get the car please,” Bucky sighed running a hand through his hair.

“Boss?” Steve asked when Sam turned to go get the car. Bucky hummed in response.

“We don’t have a waitress position open.” Bucky turned to look at Steve his best friend who looked at him with a questioning glance.

“Well, then make one.”

[americasass91]

The Shield and the Sweater

Hello lovelies! This little fic came to me when the lovely, beautiful, talented @stargazingfangirl18​ asked a very important question on her blog. Would you rather be enemies to lovers with Steve Rogers or friends with benefits with Ransom Drysdale. Well my greedy ass wanted both. Thus the birth of this story. I also turned it around a little to make it fit into Siri’s 5k Soft Dark Challenge! I’ve never written anything dark before. Also not sure if this classifies as soft!dark or if it’s more dark. But it’s one of those! If that makes you uncomfortable, then please don’t read it. This is also my first time writing a threesome, so let me know if it sucks! I hope you enjoy it! 😘

General prompts:

8)The town golden boy isn’t as sweet as everyone thinks.

Dialogue prompts:

3)”Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

11)”I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.”

Rating: Explicit(if you’re under 18, please leave)

Words: 6.2k(this one got away from me, sorry)

Warnings: soft!dark/dark themes, unprotected sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, threesome(M/M/F), manipulation, language, model!Ransom being an asshole, Steve not being who you think he is

“And I really think if everyone pitches in to make these changes, it’ll really make a difference in the long run.”

Wow, so this is how you were going to die. In your whole 20 something years of existence, you never thought boredom would be your cause of death.

Sure, you were the lead Accountant at Stark Tower and these monthly meetings were mandatory. But did you really have to be here to listen to Rogers go on and on about how we can ‘improve our working environment’? Why did he even care anyway? He was barely ever here as it is.

You must have been zoning out worse than you thought because next thing you know your coworker, Janet, is poking you in the side and pointing towards Steve.

With a quick glare sent her way, you move your gaze to the Captain. He is giving you the same look he always does. Like he’s disgusted with you. “I’m sorry Miss Y/L/N. Am I boring you?”

A scoff escapes your mouth. “No, not at all Captain Rogers. I just love when people who are never here seem to always have an opinion on how things are run and how they could be better.”

He narrows his eyes at you. “Do you have a problem with me, Y/N? Cause if you do, I’m sure there’s a way to solve that.”

You stand up and match his expression. You lean forward with your hands resting on the table. You can’t help but notice the Captain drops his gaze to your cleavage that’s now on more display than before. But just as quick as it was there, his gaze rises back up to meet your face. “Is that a threat, Captain Rogers?”

“Oh, it’s more than a-“

Tony quickly stands up and claps his hands together. “Okay! Meeting adjourned! You two, come here!”

You quickly straighten yourself up and make your way over to Tony. You always try to make sure you show him as much respect as you can. He’s your boss after all.

“I’m so sorry, Mr. Stark. My emotions got the better of me. It won’t happen again.”

He nods to you. “Thank you, Y/N. I accept your apology. But what I’m not understanding is why Steve here wanted to fire you?”

You both turn to look at Steve who has a sheepish expression on his face. “Yeah, sorry about that, Tony. She just seems to bring out this ugly side of me. I’ll try to keep it more contained next time.” He then moves his gaze to you. “Sorry, Y/N. I promise to be more professional moving forward.”

He makes a quick exit, leaving you shocked that he apologized at all. Ever since you started here almost a year ago now, you’ve been at each other’s throats. It was your fault really.

It was your first week and you were in the break room grabbing some coffee when you overheard a few of your coworkers making fun of Steve for being a virgin. Now, you weren’t sure if it was true but you wanted to fit in so you made your way over to the group and asked if anyone calls him Captain Virgin. That earned you some big laughs. But the laughter died down quickly as Steve entered the room to grab some coffee. Judging by the glare he gave you, he heard what you had called him.

You went straight to Tony after that to apologize. You really didn’t want to get fired. But you wanted to make sure Tony heard the story from you before Steve got the chance to talk to him. To your utter surprise, Tony found the name hilarious and gave you a high five, saying you were going to fit right in.

Well long story short, it’s almost a year later and Steve is still getting called Captain Virgin. Oh but don’t worry, he has names of his own for you. His favorite is Tony’s Pet. For some reason, it really eats at you when he calls you that.

But the one thing you hate the most about Steve?

Is how utterly, hopelessly, and desperately attracted you are to the son of a bitch.

That happened in your second week when you went to use the complimentary gym and saw him beating the shit out of some poor punching bag. Your panties and your workout were definitely ruined after that.

The more you fought with Steve, the more you just wanted him to bend you over any surface and have his way with you.  

It was despicable how horny you were for him. You were pretty sure all he’d have to do is snap his fingers and point to the floor in front of him and you’d happily drop to your knees and take him down your throat.

So that left you leaving work every day in a horny state. You started by taking care of it yourself when you got home. But after a while even that wasn’t cutting it. Then you started bringing home one night stands. But after the 4th disappointing non-orgasm, you gave up and just learned to live with it.

Sure, you could attempt to start being nice to Steve and maybe ask him out. But you were pretty sure he hated you. Plus you have way too much pride to actually do that.

So that leads to now. It’s Friday night and your workday is almost over. You’re inputting the last few numbers from the last expense report in your pile.

You get the last number put in when Janet approaches you. She sits on the corner of your desk. “So, you coming tonight?”

You take your glasses off and lean back in your chair, stretching your arms over your head. “Coming where?”

She rolls her eyes at you. “Oh, come on Y/N! You know we go out almost every Friday night. You never come and you always say you will!”

You start to clear off your desk and put things back in their place. “Yeah well I could. Or I could go home and sit on my ass and do nothing.”

“Well, that explains why it’s looking a bit bigger lately.”

Janet’s jaw drops as she directs her gaze at Steve, who is now standing in front of your desk.

You smirk and lean on your elbows towards him. “You like looking at my ass, Rogers?”

He scoffs. “Well when it takes up that much space, it’s hard not to notice. But here, I came to give you this.”

He hands you what looks to be a 10 page expense report. “Sorry it’s late, I’ve been busy, you know. Saving the world.”

You ungraciously take it from him and throw it in your to-do pile. “That can wait until Monday. I’ve got plans. We’re going to-” you look towards Janet for clarification. “Lavo.” You turn your gaze back to Steve. “Yeah, we’re going to Lavo. So this will wait til Monday if that’s okay with you, sir.”

Steve does his best to move his bag and jacket subtly towards the front of his pants so you won’t notice his growing hard-on. He hates how turned on he gets when you guys get into it. And then you call him sir? Jesus. He clears his throat. “Of course, I'm the one who turned it in at the last minute.”

Janet speaks up quickly. “You could always come with us! It’ll be fun!”

You grin widely at him. “Yeah! You could finally get your cherry popped, Captain Virgin.”

Steve can’t help the blush that covers his cheeks. “Uh, I can assure you my cherry has been popped since the 40’s. But thank you for your concern. And thank you for the invite, Janet. But i think I’ll stay in tonight.” He takes out his phone and sends a quick text before turning around and walking towards the elevators.

Wow. He didn’t even try to retaliate. You shrug your shoulders and grab your purse before standing up. “Alright, I’ll go! But on one condition!”

Janet claps her hands in excitement and starts walking with you towards the elevators. “Sure, anything!”

You press the button for the lobby. “You are going to be my wingwoman. Cause this girl definitely needs to get laid.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Lavo is super packed by the time you guys arrive. Of course you all had to go home and change.

You decided to go with a simple, yet effective, little black dress that showed off just enough to get men’s attention.

Thankfully you are able to score the last table. The waiter comes over and gets everyone’s drink order. You decide to stick with your favorite. You don’t want to get too drunk on the off chance you find someone to take home.

About a half hour into hot office gossip, Lucy, who is sitting across from you, taps your arm. You raise your eyebrows in question towards her.

She subtly nods her head towards the bar. “Okay I’m pretty sure the hottest guy I have ever seen is checking you out.”

You can’t help the smirk that crosses your face. “Yeah? Which one?”

“You can’t miss him. He’s fucking hot. Like no comparison to any of the other dudes sitting up there.”

You glance down at your drink and quickly finish the remainder. You stand up and adjust your dress, pushing up your breasts in the process. “Well, then I guess it’s time for a refill.” You wink and turn to make your way towards the bar.

It doesn’t take long for you to spot him. And boy was Lucy not kidding. He was fucking hot. Brown hair, blue eyes, and a smug smirk that would normally turn you off. But on him it worked. And who even looks that good in a fucking cream colored cable knit?

You go up to the bar, not too close to Mr. Hottie of course, and patiently wait for the bartender.

Hottie McHothot not so subtly moves his gaze up and down your body. He must like what he sees. “Hey honey, have you ever raised chickens?”

Uh. That’s definitely not the first thing you expected to come out of his mouth. You look over at him with confusion on your face. “Uh, no. Why do you ask?”

He just shrugs his shoulders. “Just kinda figured you might. Cause you sure can raise a cock.”

Okay, you’ve definitely never heard that line before. You crack up. You’re pretty sure you even snorted on accident. Once you collect yourself you ask, “Has that line ever worked for you?”

The bartender makes his way over to take your order. After reordering what you had before, you turn towards Hottie and wait for his answer.

“Not sure, my buddy told it to me yesterday so this is the first time I’m using it. Did it work?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. It was pretty cheesy.”

“Yeah, maybe. But it got you to laugh. So I’d say mission accomplished. Name’s Ransom. What’s yours, pretty girl?” He holds out his hand for you to shake.

Ransom. Now where have you heard that name before? You accept his hand shake. You can’t help but notice how much bigger his hands are than yours. Jesus. You could already feel your panties getting wet.

“My name’s Y/N. Ransom, that sounds familiar. Do I know you?”

He releases your hand and goes to take a sip of his bourbon. “Well, I guess that depends. Do you read magazines or have you seen the side of the city bus lately?”

You quickly wrack your brain. You don’t read many magazines. But the bus drives by you everyday on your walk to work. Holy shit! That’s it! He’s in his underwear on the side of the bus. You’ve drooled over that picture plenty of times.

“Oh, yeah! I remember now! I’ve seen you on the bus! What’s it an ad for? I can never really get past the almost naked man. A bit distracting on my way to work.”

He smirks as he briefly glances down at your breasts. “I’m glad you know my work. It’s an ad for Calvin Klein. For their new line of men’s briefs. Sorry I’ve been a distraction.” He sends you a wink.

Fuck. He was a model. And a popular one at that if he’s in an ad for Calvin Klein.

“I didn’t say I minded. You can make it up to me you know.” You wink back. Holy shit. Were you really flirting with a model?

“Yeah? Well, how about we get out of here and I’ll show you a fully naked man.”

Okay. Cheesy line number 2. Was that really going to work on you?

Yes.

Yes it was.

“Let me just go grab my purse.”

Drink forgotten, you go back to your table as quickly as you can without looking desperate. “Sorry, girls. But this is where I leave you.”

Janet glances down at her phone. “We haven’t even been here an hour yet! Where are you going?”

You send her a wink. “I’m leaving with that guy! You guys know him! Remember that ad on the side of the bus?”

They all turn their gaze to him. And they all make it very obvious. He just waves and sends them a smirk.

“Holy fucking shit! That’s the new Calvin Klein guy! Oh my god you lucky bitch!”

“Wait! Listen. We’ll let you go on one condition.”

You furrow your brows in confusion. “Okay?”

Janet gives you a naughty smirk. “On Monday I’ll need a report on if they had to stuff his briefs to get that delicious looking bulge or not.”

You give her a naughty smirk of your own. “I can totally do that.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Monday morning you were all smiles as you stepped off the elevator and headed towards your desk. You give Janet a wink as you pass by her. She quickly makes her way over just as you sit down. “Um, excuse me hoe. But is that the same dress you were wearing Friday night?”

You quickly grab the cardigan you always keep in your desk out and put it on and button it up, attempting to look a little more professional. “Maybe.”

Janet opens her mouth in shock. “You stayed the whole weekend with him? You little slut! How was it?”

You turn on your computer and grab for the expense report of Steve’s you left in your to-do pile. Then you turn towards your nosy coworker. “Well, if you must know, yes. I did stay the whole weekend with him. And I’m pretty sure I was in an orgasm-induced coma the whole time. It’s all kind of a rough, sticky, mind-blowing blur.”

“Are you going to see him again?”

You shrug your shoulders as you put in your login information on the computer. “I haven’t decided yet. While the sex was the best I’ve ever had, he’s kind of an ass. Talked about himself and all the famous people he’s hooked up with since becoming a model. I honestly kept initiating sex just to make him shut up.”

She gives you a look like you’re stupid. “I’m not seeing the issue here. So what if he talks about himself a lot? The sex was amazing. You need to lock that down girl.”

You roll your eyes at her. “That’s the thing, Janet. He doesn’t do relationships. He told me so multiple times. Plus I’m pretty sure he was texting another chick in between our ‘sessions’. I suppose if I’m desperate, I’ll get a hold of him.”

“You know you could always just have him on backup for sex. Like a friends with benefits situation.”

“Janet, I’m in my late 20s. I’m too old for that kind of relationship.”

“Exactly, you’re in your late 20s! This is the perfect time for that kind of relationship before you settle down and get married! Have one last final hoorah!”

“I can’t have this conversation before caffeine. I’m going to get coffee. You act like I’m dying soon or something.” You turn to walk away but then remember you were supposed to tell her something. “Oh yeah and by the way. The bulge is definitely not stuffed.”

You give her a wink and then head to the break room for some much needed coffee. When you see who’s in there, you almost contemplate going downstairs to a different break room.

Steve is standing at the counter, preparing his coffee. He turns when he hears you come in and gives you a once over. “Well, look what the cat dragged in.”

You grab a mug out of the cabinet beside him. “Sorry my appearance isn’t up to your standards today, Rogers. I was a little...busy this weekend.”

He takes a sip of his coffee to make sure it’s right. Then he moves out of your way so you can get to the coffee, but still staying close. “Busy getting run over by a truck? Cause that’s kind of what you look like.”

You pour yourself a generous amount of coffee and take a long sip, letting the bitter liquid slowly make you human. “Yeah, well. I was busy getting fucked all weekend, Rogers. But I know your little innocent mind wouldn’t know what that’s like.”

That wipes the stupid little smirk right off his face. He almost looks pissed. He moves even closer to you. Almost pressing himself right up against you. So close that you can smell his coffee-scented breath. If you were wearing panties, they’d be ruined.

“Not all of us feel the need to sleep around. Some of us are looking for a real connection. Not just a one night stand of meaningless, mediocre sex.”

You press yourself just a little closer to him, his chest now touching yours. “Oh, it was anything but mediocre. Maybe if you actually got some, you’d know what that feels like.”

He leans his head down until his mouth is next to your ear, his left hand now resting on your hip. “You really need to stop insinuating that I’m a virgin sweetheart. If you were nicer to me, I’d show you that I know how to fuck.” With that he backs up and heads out of the break room.

You let out the breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. Jesus Christ. You swear you almost came.

And if you were nicer to him? Fuck him. He’s not nice to you either. That’s okay. You have someone who can scratch this itch.

You pull out your phone and send a quick text.

To: Fuckboi

You busy tonight? I could really use a release.

The reply came almost immediately.

From: Fuckboi

Didn’t get enough of my cock this weekend huh? I suppose I could make myself available.

You roll your eyes and quickly reply with your address and what time to be over.

The rest of the day passes by slowly. It takes you half the day to enter Steve’s expense report. God he’s descriptive. At least it’s completed. You can’t really say that much for the other Avengers. They usually half assed them and made them barely acceptable.

You are shutting down for the day when Steve approaches your desk. You remove your glasses and look at him expectantly. “Is there something I can help you with, Steve?”

A blush creeps it’s way across his cheeks. “Um, I was actually just wondering if you had time to go over the new expense report forms? They should be a lot easier to fill out.”

You glance down at the clock on your computer. Ransom is going to be at your place in about 20 minutes.“Can we do it tomorrow? I have company that’ll be showing up at my apartment in like 20 minutes.”

His hopeful smile falls. His face is now unreadable. “Would your company happen to be whoever you spent the weekend with?”

Confused, you grab for your purse after getting your computer shut down. “Actually, yes. Should I have asked your permission first?” You attempt a joke to ease the sudden tension.

He pulls out his phone and starts typing furiously. Wow. You weren’t aware he knew how to text. You hear it ping with a reply before he angrily puts it back in his pocket. “Sure, we can do this tomorrow. Wouldn’t want to get in the way of your whoreing around.”

Your jaw drops in surprise. Sure you guys were always throwing jabs at each other. But he’d never said anything like this before. And in such a mean tone.

You round your desk and stand right in front of him. “Fuck you, Steve.”

You hurry towards the elevators before he can see the tears that have welled up. You couldn’t let him know he had that power over you. Asshole. Thank god Ransom was coming over. Hopefully he could fuck what Steve just said right out of your head.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You’ve lost count of how many orgasms Ransom has pulled from you with his mouth when there’s a knock on your door.

Ransom looks up at you from his kneeling position on your living room floor. “Did you invite someone else to join us, pretty girl?”

You scoff and push him away so you can stand up. You pull your dress down as you make your way towards the door. “Yeah. I can barely handle just you. I’m pretty sure if we added someone else, I’d actually die.”

You open the door and gasp in surprise. “Steve? What are you doing here?”

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. “Look, I know you probably already have company but I felt really bad about what I said to you earlier today and wanted to apologize.”

You have so many questions. “How did you know where I lived?”

That sheepish smile makes its appearance again. “I may or may not have looked in your employee file.”

You shake your head. “And you felt the need to come all the way here and apologize? Why not just text me?”

“It would only have felt right to me to do it in person. I really am sor-”

You feel a pair of arms wrap around you from behind. “Well, who do we have here? Why is Captain America at your door?”

You turn your head to address Ransom. “He just came by to apologize to me. I think he was just leaving.”

Steve has a disappointed look on his face. “Yeah, I suppose I was.”

“Awe, what a shame. I thought you were gonna ask him to join us, pretty girl.”

Steve’s eyes grow wide at the thought. You quickly speak up. “No, I don’t think he’d be comfortable with that. He’s a little old fashioned.” You give him a sincere smile. You didn't think that was a bad thing.

Steve looks back towards the elevators and then back to you. He clears his throat. “What if I wanted to join you?” Seeing your wide eyed look, he quickly adds, “Only if Y/N would be comfortable with that of course.”

You contemplate what the consequences could be in your head. But then you get distracted when Ransom starts grinding his hard on against your ass. “Come on, pretty girl. Make a decision.”

The next word comes out of your mouth faster than what your brain can process. “Okay.”

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

Now you were standing awkwardly in your bedroom with Steve and Ransom looking at you expectantly.

You’ve never done this before so you’re not sure how this is supposed to go. “So, um. How do we start exactly?”

Ransom smirks and comes up behind you. “I think you should call the shots, pretty girl. If you’re okay with that, Steve?”

With the mention of his name, he walks towards you and places his hands on your hips. “I think that’s a great idea. Can I kiss you now?” He places his hand under your chin and raises your face up to meet his. “I’ve waited a long time for this, sweetheart.” With that, his lips meet yours. It’s explosive. You quickly wrap your hands around his neck and press yourself up against him.

You get so lost in the kiss, you forget that Ransom is there. That is until he presses his lips against your neck and presses himself against your ass. It presses you even further against Steve, making you feel his excitement against your lower belly.

You’re so overwhelmed already and you’d barely started. You may not survive this evening.

As you move your hands down to remove Steve’s shirt, Ransom is unzipping your dress, pressing kisses to every inch of exposed skin.

Without breaking the kiss, Steve moves his hands around to unhook your bra so he can get his hands on your breasts. He pinches your nipples, causing you to moan into his mouth. He moves his lips to your neck, sucking on your pulse point.

After successfully removing your dress, Ransom stands back up and turns your head to connect your lips. He starts rutting his clothed hard on against your naked ass. His left hand reaches around to bat one of Steve’s away so he can squeeze your breast.

Steve takes the hand that had been swatted away and moves it down to your soaking wet core. He starts lightly circling your clit. Just enough pressure to make you mewl.

You reach behind you with your left hand and tug at the waistband of Ransom’s briefs. “Off.” You moan out as you take your right hand and start attempting to take off Steve’s jeans. He smirks into your neck and helps you out. He barely gets them unbuttoned and unzipped before you’re reaching your hand into them and his boxers to grab his cock. It feels big.

Ransom grabs your left hand and places it on his now free cock. You wrap your hand around it and give it a squeeze before you start pumping your hand up and down. You do the same to Steve’s, making the both of them let out grunts against both sides of your neck. Steve increases the pressure on your clit a little. Still not enough.

“Nee-need, you. Please.” You weakly moan out. Ransom moves his mouth up to your ear. “How do you want us, pretty girl?”

You reluctantly pull away from both of them so you can think. You decide to be greedy. You point to Steve. “I want you to lay on the bed, please.”

He does as you ask. Putting his hands behind his head as he awaits further instructions.

You get on the bed and straddle him. You turn around and reach your arm out for Ransom. “Want you behind me.” You lean over and open your bedside drawer to grab the lube and toss it at Ransom. He smirks as he straddles Steve’s legs and gets behind you. He uncaps the lube and starts coating his cock with a generous amount. “Need my cock in that ass, pretty girl?”

You hold up your hand. “Wait.” You lean down towards Steve and give him a quick kiss. “Are you okay with this?”

He nods his head. “As long as you are.” You raise back up and smile at him. You turn your head and look at Ransom. “I’m assuming you're okay with this?”

He just smirks and squeezes some lube out so that it slides down the crack of your ass. “More than okay, pretty girl. Need me to stretch you out first?”

You smirk and pull him in for a quick, filthy kiss. “I think it got plenty stretched out this weekend.”

He matches your smirk. “You little slut. Wanting both of our cocks stuffing you full.”

You whimper as he lands a smack on your ass. Leaning up on your knees, you grab a hold of Steve’s cock and start running his tip up and down your folds. He places his left hand on your right hip and his right hand on your left thigh. “Condom?”

You quickly shake your head and pause your actions. “On the pill. Unless of course you’d be more comfortable with one.”

He shakes his head. “No, just making sure.”

You turn back to Ransom. “I’ll let you know when I’m ready for you.”

He nods and places his hands on your shoulders, waiting somewhat patiently.

You slowly sink down on Steve’s cock. He’s stretching you out so deliciously. It burns in just the right way. Ransom may be longer, but Steve is definitely thicker.

After you get fully seated on him, you take a minute to adjust. It only takes a few seconds. You turn your head towards Ransom. “Okay, I’m ready.”

He removes his right hand from your shoulder and grabs the base of his cock and starts pressing against the tight ring of muscle. He’d been in there a lot over the weekend. But it was still a tight fit regardless. He doesn’t go as slow and sheaths himself to the hilt, causing you to moan out in slight pain and pleasure.

Holy fuck. You feel so full. You think you might die. That is until Ransom removes his cock until just the tip remains and then forcefully thrust back in, causing you to grind on Steve’s dick.

Steve grunts out from the movement and starts thrusting up into you the best he can from his position. Ransom wraps his left arm around you and continues his thrusts, not letting up his pace. You don’t even really have to move, the both of them doing it for you. They somehow find the perfect rhythm. Each of them pulling out and pushing in at the same time. One of your hands is behind you, resting on the back of Ransom’s head while the other is resting on Steve’s chest.

Steve sits up suddenly and pulls you in for a kiss. “Like being stuffed with both of our cocks, pretty girl?” You hear from behind you. “Yes. So good. So full. Gonna cum.”

Ransom removes his arm from around you and reaches down and starts circling your clit. “Do it. Cum all over us. Make a mess.”

Steve can feel you squeezing him. “Please, sweetheart. Need to feel you cum on my cock. You’re gripping me so good.”

You explode. You clamp your eyes shut, seeing stars behind your eyelids. You let the both of them fuck you through it.

Ransom’s hips stutter. The fluttering around his cock is too good. He cums with a shout of your name, filling up your ass to the brim. He gives you a few more thrusts before he pulls out and collapses beside you two.

Steve’s been patient while you come down from your high. He lays back down, pulling you with him so that your chest to chest. He bends his knees and grabs onto your hips. “You ready, sweetheart?” You raise up, both of your hands on each side of his head. You give him a nod.

That’s all he needs. He starts fucking you, hard and fast, chasing his release. He can feel it building. He just needs to feel you come undone around him again. He moves one of his hands and starts circling your clit with his thumb. “Need you to cum for me again, Y/N.”

You shake your head. “Can’t. Too much.”

Ransom sits up beside you. “I know what she needs.” He reaches over with his left hand and wraps it around your throat, squeezing gently.

It makes you clench down on Steve’s cock. “Yeah? That all you needed, sweetheart? A hand wrapped around your pretty throat? I know you like it. Can feel you squeezing me.” He picks up his pace. The only sounds that can be heard are his grunts, your breathy monas, and skin slapping against skin.

It doesn’t take long for your orgasm to hit you. This one is somehow even more intense than the last.

You must’ve blacked out for a few seconds because the next thing you know, you’re waking up in between Steve and Ransom.

Steve smiles down at you. “There she is. We lost you for a second, sweetheart.”

You feel drunk. You smile goofily up at him. “Did you cum?”

Just as you ask that, you can feel his release seeping out of your overused cunt. Then you feel cum leaking out of your ass. You hide your face behind your hands in embarrassment. “I can’t believe we just did that.”

Ransom removes one hand while Steve removes the other. “Nuh uh uh. No hiding allowed, pretty girl. I have no regrets.” He looks at Steve. “Do you?”

Steve smiles down at you and leans down to press a soft kiss against your lips. “None from me. You tired, sweetheart?”

You let out a big yawn and nod your head, slowly closing your eyes. “Get some rest, pretty girl.” That’s the last thing you hear before sleep takes you.

😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈😈

You wake up sometime in the early morning, stretching out your sore limbs. You know you have a dumb smile on your face. But you can’t help but notice your empty bed.

You sit up and hiss at the deliciously sore feeling between your legs. You grab your robe and slip it on. You can smell coffee coming from the kitchen. You giddily make your way out of the room and down the hallway. They both barely just come into view, still unaware you’re there, when you hear Steve speak.

“I thought you were going to be an asshole to her? Make her see I’m not that bad.”

You hear Ransom next. “I was an asshole to her. I’m sorry I dicked her down so good that she wanted more.”

Steve scoffs. “I never gave you the okay to fuck her!”

“You also didn’t tell me it was off limits. Look you got what you wanted right?”

“No, actually I didn’t. I didn’t pay you so we could have a threesome together.”

What the fuck? Steve paid Ransom to help him get in your pants?

“Ok, how about this? I’ll give you all of your money back if I can fuck her one more time before I go? Then we’ll be squared away.”

Steve seems to be conflicted. “Fine! But this is the last time Ransom. I have to get to work anyway. After this, she’s mine. And make sure she’s not late for work herself.”

Before you have time to react, Steve rounds the corner and sees you standing there. He has a deer caught in headlights look. Ransom comes up beside him and sees you. “Oh, honey, you weren’t supposed to see that.”

You slowly start backing up towards your bedroom. Steve moves towards you, stopping once you put your hands up. “Stay away from me! Both of you! I want nothing to do with either of you!”

Ransom moves past Steve and grabs onto your arms. “Oh, please. You’d fuck us again if we wanted. Wouldn’t you?”

You spit in his face. “Fuck you, Hugh.”

He gets a sinister look on his face. “Wrong move, pretty girl.” He looks toward Steve. “Don’t worry, I’ll fuck the brat out of her. You better tell her boss she won’t be in today.”

Your eyes go wide at his words. You start thrashing against him, trying your best to get away. Steve has had enough. He comes over and yanks you away from him and presses you against the wall. “You better calm down, sweetheart. I’ll treat you like a princess if you can be my good girl. Can you do that?”

You shake your head. “Why would you think I’d want anything to do with you after finding out you paid someone to help get into my pants?”

He gives you an evil smirk. “Because if you don’t, I’ll just have to release the tape of last night on the internet. Let everyone see how much of a slut you actually are.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “You’re bluffing.”

He smirks and turns his head towards Ransom. “Show her.”

Ransom gets his phone out of his pocket and swipes at the screen for a second before turning it in your direction.

Holy shit. They weren’t bluffing. There you were, getting fucked by the both of them. That would ruin you if it got out. Not only would you get fired, but your parents would probably disown you. You’d never have a normal relationship again. You’re fucked. Even more than you were last night. How had you not noticed they were recording it?

Ransom must have read your mind. “I set my phone up while you were busy with Steve’s fingers on your cunt and his tongue down your throat. I think you need to ask her again Steve.”

Steve grabs your chin and moves your gaze onto his face. “I’ll ask you again. Are you going to be my good girl? Let Ransom fuck you one more time and then it’ll just be me and you?”

You drop your gaze to the floor. You feel a tear run down your cheek as you whisper out, “I’ll be your good girl.”

Taglist: @stargazingfangirl18​ @drabblewithfrannybarnes​ @harrysthiccthighss​ @lllols @patzammit​ @quxxnxfhxll​

Steve Taglist: @donutloverxo​

[tobesolonely]

kindergarten teachers

summary: teacher!harry and coworker y/n have a hard time coming to terms with their feelings for each other

a/n: ahhh she’s finally done! i’ve been working on this fic for sooo long and i hope u all like it! big thanks to @queencharry​ for helping me when i got stuck and beta reading, and @behindthatbabyface​ for beta reading as well and giving me feedback!! i appreciate u both <3 enjoy ~11.3k words of some mutual pining and teacher!h interacting with lil kindergarteners 🥺also i am sorry if theres any major grammar mistakes (as always) or crazy typos, i always miss some things when i go back and proofread that im sure i’ll catch later! thank u

warnings: smut, mentions of alcohol 

talk to me about harry and y/n! let me know your thoughts!!

my ko-fi! thank you :)

From the time you were very young, you knew you wanted to be a teacher. One of your earliest childhood memories was going to school dressed up as one for career day. Your usually untamed hair was pulled back into a sleek bun (courtesy of your mother), and you donned a funky baby-pink sweater. For bottoms, you wore the closest thing to a pencil skirt you had in your five-year-old wardrobe. When you look back on the photographs your mother took of you that day, you did not resemble a teacher in any way. You were sure if you had not done your Career Day presentation in front of the whole class, no one would have even known who you were dressed up as.

Once you moved onto college and declared Education as a major, that was when people really started to let you hear their opinions on the career path you wanted to pursue. It seemed like whenever you went home for a holiday, relatives were always in your ear saying, “You know teachers don’t make a lot of money, right? Have you ever considered something in the sciences?”. You always responded, “I know, but what would the world do without teachers?”.

Eventually, you finished your undergraduate career, successfully completed student teaching with the highest praise from your superiors and colleagues, obtained your teaching credentials, and even went back to school to get your Master’s degree. So, it was much to everyone’s surprise when you settled on being a Kindergarten teacher. People assumed that because you completed so much schooling, you wanted to be a university professor. However, the thought never even crossed your mind. You always thought Kindergarten teachers were the most impressionable people out there and knew you wanted to be one.

To you, there was no greater responsibility than that of a Kindergarten teacher. It was your responsibility to teach your students reading, writing, art, and music at the most basic level. You showed them how to play with others, how to be kind, and give them the tools necessary to succeed once they leave your classroom. You were the first teacher your students ever had, so you needed to make them fall in love with school instead of hate it, considering they’d have to stick to it until they were at least eighteen. 

You’ve been a credentialed Kindergarten teacher for the last three years, and you’ve loved every moment of it. You were one of the younger teachers at school, but you never felt left out. Your colleagues were amazing people who often shared tips and tricks they wish they knew when they first started teaching.

Now, you were groggily unlocking the door to your classroom, feeling those first-day-of-school jitters you always felt. You knew kindergarteners weren’t there to harshly critique you. Still, you wanted them to go home and tell their parents about how excited they were to have you as a teacher, not run home in tears. That never happened, of course, but you didn’t want to take any chances. You drop your keys and mutter a quiet, “Shit!” setting your travel mug filled with coffee on the ground and readjust the box of donuts you had for your kids on your hip. As you reach for your keys, you hear a deep voice ask if you need help. You quickly turn around, eyes wide from being startled.

“Oh! You scared me,” you place your free hand over your chest. “But yeah, actually, that’d be great. I’m struggling to get my door open.” The man nods, his own keys he wore around his neck jangling as he retrieves first your keys, then your coffee mug.

“I’m Harry– Mr. Styles, if you want,” he holds your keys out for you to take, your coffee mug still in his large hands. “Uh, I’m the new Kindergarten teacher.” You give him a confused look and trade the box of donuts in your arms for your keys, opening the door. “The last one, Mrs. Brown, I think it was, I guess she decided a few weeks back that she wanted to retire.” You get your door open and walk inside your classroom, turning on the lights. It was a little stuffy, considering you hadn’t been there to open any windows in about a month.

“Oh, that’s right! Welcome,” you give him a warm smile. “I’m Y/N– Miss Y/L/N if you want.” A slight blush appears on his cheeks. “We’re gonna be working together then, it seems. Don’t get me wrong, I loved Mrs. Brown, but it’ll be nice to collaborate with someone closer to my age, you know?” Harry nods, and you realize he still had your coffee mug and box of donuts in his hands. “You can just set that on my desk, thanks for helping out. Would you like a donut?”

“Um, I- it’s okay,” he stammers, setting the items down. “Sorry, it’s just that I’ll probably crash if I have a donut first thing in the mornin’.” You smile at him and move to open all your windows and the back door, wanting the stuffy classroom to air out a bit before the children got here. 

“I totally get that,” you giggle, walking back over to your desk. “Are you excited about the first day? I always get a little nervous. I also talk a lot when I’m nervous, I’m sure you caught onto that.” 

For the first time that morning, Harry laughs. “Yeah, I’m nervous, too. ’ve never taught in the States before, so this is a bit new to me.” He’s playing with the keys hanging from his lanyard. 

“I noticed you had an accent, but I didn’t know if it was weird to ask about it. What brings you to California?” You open the box of donuts and take one out, wanting to eat it before it gets cold, and the glaze hardens.

“Uh, I went to University here, but when I graduated, I decided to go back home and teach for a couple of years. I really missed being here though and wanted to come back, so I got my credentials, and uh, here I am,” he tells you with a grin, and you notice he has deep dimples. 

“Well, we’re glad you’re here,” you tell him earnestly. “The kids are just gonna love your accent, too!” you joke and Harry laughs for the second time that day. 

“If all else fails, ’m hopin’ to charm everyone over with my accent,” he stares at you for a moment before speaking again. “Well, I better finish getting situated. It’s fifteen til, and I reckon the children will be arriving soon, yeah?” He asks. You nod. 

“Best to be waiting at parent drop-off too, there are always a few parents that are just as nervous as their babies, if not more, and could use a quick pep talk.”

“Thanks for lettin’ me know. I was thinking about standing out there anyway, just to make a good first impression.” You take another bite of your donut, giving him a thumbs up. 

“You’ve got this, Harry. I know you’re not completely clueless since you’ve taught before, but I know the first day can be a little intimidating. You know where I am if you need anything.” He gives you a grateful smile, quietly thanking you before turning to walk out the door. You’re left thinking about your new coworker, only being pulled from your thoughts of him when the first bell rings.

“Good morning everyone, my name is Miss Y/L/N. Are you all excited to get this school year started?” A chorus of high-pitched yeses fills the room, and you smile warmly at your class. “I’m so excited that you’re all here! I have a little surprise for each of you!” You grab the box of donuts and walk back to the rug in the center of the room that the children usually sat on for storytime. Little gasps fill your ears, and they all say, “Donuts!” and “Yummy!”. You smile at the kids again, already feeling overwhelmed with how adorable they were. 

“We all get a donut?” one little girl asks, her eyes wide. You nod at her.

“Of course! Everyone will get a donut, sweetie.” You move to get the plastic food gloves you kept so you can safely hand out a donut to everyone. “Okay guys, I’m going to pass a stack of napkins around the room. Take one and pass the stack to the person sitting next to you. Does that make sense?” All the students nod their heads in confirmation, so you grab a stack and hand them to the child sitting closest to you. “Once the last person has their napkin, let me know, and then it’ll be donut time!” You say this over-enthusiastically, and the children squirm in their seats in excitement.

As you go around handing out donuts to each of your students, you learn their names and ask them to tell you one fun fact about them. Most children say things like, “I have a brother/sister!” or “I can run really fast!”, and you find it absolutely adorable. One thing you loved the most about teaching five-year-olds was their ability to think everything was cool. It was comforting to know that no matter what you did, they’d find you cool, and your first-day jitters quickly dissipated. As the children eat their donuts, you read them a story, putting on different voices for all the various characters. You show them how to raise their hand when they have something they’d like to share and remind them to use their “listening ears” when you or one of their classmates are speaking.

When it’s time for recess, you show them how to line up quietly at the door, and assign a line leader and a hall monitor. You remind the children that they will all get a turn at these tasks eventually because it’ll switch every week, and not to worry. As you’re walking down the hall backward (one of your teachers walks that you’d finally perfected), you hear Harry’s voice.

“Okay Room Ten, we’re gonna go out to the playground now, where you all will get to play every recess and lunch. That sounds like fun, doesn’t it?” He asks them, and you hear little voices chattering out to him in excitement. You can’t help but peek into his classroom as you walked by, as his door was open. He didn’t see you because he was busy organizing his class into a straight line, so you keep going. Your class, who, much to your surprise, was walking very quietly, got loud once they saw the Kindergarten play area had a slide and monkey bars.

“We get to play on this?” one of your students, Destiny, questions. 

“Yup! This is a pretty cool play area, isn’t it?” They nod and stare at you, waiting for direction. “Oh, you can all go play and run around, get some of that energy out. When the bell rings, though, I want you to listen to the yard teachers because they’re gonna help get you all lined back up so we can go back inside. Deal?” The children give you nods and thumbs up, and you grin at them, telling them to have fun and be nice to one another. As you’re turning to go to the teacher’s lounge to refill your mug of coffee, you see Harry walking down the hallway with his class, and decide to wait for him. He gives his class the same spiel you gave yours and tells them to “Treat each other with kindness” before noticing you waiting for him.

“Hey,” he gives you a grin, looking far more relaxed than he did when you saw him earlier that morning. “How’s it going so far?”

“It’s great,” you reply, leading him in the direction of the teacher’s lounge. “They’re all adorable.”

“Yeah, don’t know what I was so nervous fo’. They’re great. Also, you’re right,” Harry has an amused look on his face. “The first thirty minutes of ’em bein’ there was just them askin’ me to say things because they think I sound funny.” 

“I told you!” you exclaim, laughing at him. “A British accent is definitely not something we hear every day, not here at least.”

“I figured,” he replies, and silence falls between you. “Where are we going, by the way?”

You stop in front of a blue door and sift through the keys on your lanyard, finally finding the one you were looking for. “Teacher’s lounge. Have you had the chance to check it out yet?” He shakes his head, and you pull open the door after having unlocked it. “After you.” He shakes his head and steps back, signaling you go ahead of him. You quirk an eyebrow at him, and he gives you a defensive look.

“What? ‘M a gentleman. Ladies first,” he insists, holding the door open. You walk inside the room, trying to refrain from rolling your eyes. There aren’t many teachers in the lounge. You figure they all must be in their classrooms, trying to do some last-minute organization and lesson planning amidst the first day of school chaos. However, a few colleagues that you’re rather fond of are in the room, so you take it upon yourself to introduce them to Harry.

“Hello everyone, I hope you’re all having a relaxing morning!” They chuckle lightly at your sarcasm. “I’d like you all to meet Mr. Harry Styles. He’s the new Kindergarten teacher that took Mrs. Brown’s place.” A look of realization washes over all three teachers’ faces, and they warmly greet him. Harry goes around, shaking each of their hands, voice dripping with charm.

“Lovely to meet you all. Looking forward to collaborating,” he tells them quietly. They begin engaging in polite conversation, so you leave Harry’s side, walking over to the coffee station to get what you came for before recess was over. He joins you shortly after, grabbing a disposable cup. “They were a nice bunch.” He mutters, pouring the steaming coffee into his cup. You hum in agreement.

“Everyone here is nice. The lounge is usually much more crowded than this. Everyone else must be in their rooms,” you flick your wrist up to check the time. “We got some time to sit down and breathe for a bit if you’d like? Unless you wanted to get back to your room.”

“‘M in no rush, trust me,” he tells you, flashing you a small smile. “Let’s take a seat.” Harry walks over to an unoccupied couch and sits down slowly, taking care not to spill his coffee. 

“You didn’t want a lid?” you question when you see him struggling. He shrugs.

“Not necessary. Jus’ some extra plastic,” you hum and look down at your lap. You were quickly learning that Harry was not a big talker, and he liked to get his point across in as few words as possible. Him being a Kindergarten teacher contradicted heavily with his rather bashful demeanor, but that just made him all the more endearing to you.

“Do you live nearby, or is your commute long?” you ask him after a few moments of silence. As soon as you ask the question, you internally cringe, feeling like it was too invasive. If Harry thought the question was weird, he doesn’t show it.

“I live in town. I actually walked here today, believe it or not,” he tells you with a chuckle. “Was such a beautiful morning that I figured I should.” Every time you think Harry can’t possibly get any more captivating, he does, and you find yourself biting back a smile.

“How long is your walk?” You cross your legs and then uncross them, a nervous habit that you had. Harry takes a sip of coffee, mulling your question over.

“I’d say it took me about twenty minutes. I was walkin’ at a pretty leisurely pace, though,” Harry shrugs. “How about you? Do you live nearby?”

“I also live in town, but I’m way too lazy to walk, so props to you,” you smile. “The best thing about living around here is seeing your kids out in public. It’s the cutest thing.” Harry smiles, not saying anything else. A silence falls over the two of you again but instead of feeling the need to fill it, you just sit beside him, drinking your coffee. Your mind wanders off to what you were going to do for the rest of the school day, if you had enough groceries in your apartment for dinner or if you should go grocery shopping after work, and if you remembered to pay your bills on time. The bell rings to signify the end of recess, and you jump slightly.

“Ready to go back?” Harry asks, standing up and walking back over to the coffee station. “Think’m gonna get a bit more.” You go to stand by the door, waiting for him to pour another cup of coffee. He quickly rejoins you, and the coffee sloshes a bit, some getting on his hand, but he doesn’t seem to notice. “Hope those lil’ buggers got some of their energy out.”

“Right! Mine was even more hyper than they probably would’ve been ’cause I gave them those donuts this morning,” you laugh. “So, for my sake, I hope so too.” When you and Harry arrive back at the Kindergarten play area, your classes are already lined up quietly awaiting instruction, thanks to the yard teachers. You and Harry both thank them and move to stand in front of your kids. 

“Miss Y/L/N,” one of your children calls out from the back of the line. “Can we get more donuts when we go back inside?” You see Harry smile out of the corner of your eye as he’s giving instruction to his class.

“There are no more donuts, you guys ate them all! I have something even cooler than donuts planned for us, though, okay? Now, remember what I told you all about walking quietly, right? Mr. Line Leader, how does your line look? Do you think we’re all set to go back inside?” The child you appointed line leader turns around to look at everyone, occasionally shushing some people. After a few moments, he turns back to you, giving you a thumbs up. 

Harry moves to stand beside you, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “Wanna eat lunch together and do some planning? I feel like it would be a good idea for us to be teachin’ the same things, more or less.” Your body feels warm all over, and you just look at him and nod, not trusting yourself to speak. Harry smiles and places a hand on your shoulder. At a normal volume, he says, “See you then, Miss Y/L/N.” 

Upon entering Harry’s room, you’re immediately met with the scent of vanilla and the loud hum of the air conditioning. It was bright, adorably decorated, and surprisingly decluttered. It was the polar opposite of your room, and you found it very welcoming and comforting. “Nice set-up you’ve got going on in here,” you tell him. He jumps in his seat at his desk, not having heard you come in.

“Fucks sake,” he mumbles, face going red. “You scared me. Thanks, though. My sister helped me decorate, I don’t really have an eye for this type of stuff.” He rubs the back of his neck, sheepishly. 

“Well, if you ever need any help decorating for back to school and your sister isn’t around, I’d be more than happy to help.” Harry smiles and suddenly gets up from his chair, offering it to you.

“Please, take my seat. I’ll just sit in one of the kids’ chairs,” he rolls it towards you, and you shake your head, about to object, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N. Their chairs aren’t that bad.” You take the seat Harry was just in, mumbling a quiet thank you. He hums and pulls a tiny chair up beside you, legs scraping loudly across the floor. When he sits down in it, you can’t but burst out laughing.

“Harry, that chair is so tiny! Are you sure you don’t want me to sit there instead? You look so uncomfortable,” you tell him in between laughs. “This is your classroom, after all, I’m just a guest.” Harry shakes his head, cheeks flushed.

“It’s okay, Y/N, really. ‘M perfectly comfortable in this lil’ miniature chair,” he looks at the lunch bag you sat on his desk. “What’s for lunch?” You reach for your sack and unzip it, pulling out a pre-packaged salad from Trader Joe’s.

“I’m very lazy when it comes to packing my lunches,” you admit sheepishly, pulling out a fork. “How about you? Did you eat already?”

“Oh yeah, I had a green smoothie. Not a big lunch guy,” he replies calmly. “Wanna get started with planning? I think we only have about thirty minutes left.” He looks down at his watch to confirm the time. Harry opens his planner, and you see pages filled with his neat, blocky scrawl. He jumps right into talking about the ideas he had in mind, excitement filling his voice that you haven’t yet heard. 

The passion and enthusiasm he has for teaching are evident through the way he tells you about the activities he has planned, new materials and teaching methods he wants to try implementing, and things he’s tried before that didn’t work out the way he wanted them to. He asks you for your advice and listens intently when you speak, jotting down notes.

You find yourself having to mentally remind yourself not to stare at him. He was a handsome man– there was no denying that. He had curly brown hair, soft and wild-looking, the most beautiful green eyes you’d ever seen, and arms covered in tattoos. You also noticed he had the tiniest cross on his left hand. You wanted to ask him about it, but you figured that was a conversation for another time. 

“Y/N? Did you hear what I just said,” Harry asks, giving you a concerned look. “Are you alright? I think you just zoned out for a couple minutes or somethin’.” You nod quickly, feeling your palms growing sweaty.

“Oh yeah, sorry, I was just thinking about something I have to do later. What did you just say?” You play off how you were just wholly drooling over your new coworker, feeling scrutinized under his piercing gaze.

“Jus’ got an email from the principal. Said we have a faculty meetin’ after school at three. Wanna go together?” He asks. You know Harry’s asking you to accompany him primarily because you’re the only person he really knows so far. However, it still makes you feel warm and special. “He said we’re gonna go over some planning for the Fall Festival. What’s that?”

“Oh, it’s just the back-to-school festival. It’s adorable,” you explain. “It’s like a mini carnival that we have right here on the playground. Every year they have teachers host booths. It’s a great way to get to meet your kids’ parents and bond with the other faculty.” Harry nods, standing up from the tiny chair right as the bell signifying the end of lunch rings.

“That sounds lovely,” he chirps, smiling down at you. “We’re gonna have the best booth out of everyone Y/N, trust me.” He jokes, the corner of his eyes crinkling. This was the most Harry had talked since you met him that morning and you were enjoying witnessing him open up to you more and more with each conversation shared.

“It is,” you stand up as well, gathering your trash and empty lunch pail. “Thanks for having me, Harry. Next time we can meet in my room. I wouldn’t mind making this a daily thing.” As soon as the words came out of your mouth, you physically wince, figuring Harry had to think you were obsessed with him at this point. He looks down, the corners of his mouth upturned when he makes eye contact with you again.

“I’d like that, Y/N. I’ll actually start bringin’ a proper lunch, so you’re not the only one eating,” you smile. “I’ll meet you in your room after school?” You nod in confirmation, walking out the door in front of him. 

“See ya later.”

“Did everyone have a good day today?” You ask your class, walking backward to the dismissal gate. You’re met with a chorus of cheerful sounding ‘yeses,’ and you place your hand over your heart in a dramatic fashion. “That makes me so happy, everyone! You’re all incredible little people, and I think we’re gonna have a fantastic year. What do you guys think?” The children chatter excitedly, glad to have made it through their first day of school and see their parents on the other side of the gate eagerly awaiting them, cell phones snapping pictures. 

Harry’s already at the gate, waiting for the bell to ring so he can dismiss his class. He’s walking down the line asking each of the children if they see who they’re supposed to go home with, crouching down to their height so they can point them out to him. Some children in his class look a little upset because they don’t see their parents yet. Harry quickly consoles them, telling them they can all play a fun game together while they wait for their ‘Mummies and Daddies.’

You do the same with your kids, and by the time the bell rings and you finish dismissing the ones who saw someone there to pick them up, there was one child from your class who was still waiting and two from Harry’s. He walks over to you, one of their tiny hands in each of his. The boy looks unbothered, but the girl was beginning to cry.

“Hey, Ava, should we ask Miss Y/L/N and her friend if they want to play iSpy with us? The more, the merrier, isn’t that right?” He looks down at her, and she nods, looking down. You figure she’s one of his more shy students he was telling you about earlier.

“Hi, sweetie! I’m Miss Y/L/N, are you waiting for your mom or dad?” She nods, biting her lip. You turn and gesture to your one student who was waiting as well. “Well, so is she! Don’t worry, they’ll be here.”

“I’m Matthew,” the little boy holding Harry’s other hand informs you, shifting from foot to foot. You give him a big smile.

“Hello, Matthew! I love your Spiderman shirt; he’s just the coolest. Jade, do you want to introduce yourself to Mr. Styles, Ava, and Matthew? Remember when we learned about introductions today in class? When you got to introduce yourself to all your classmates?”

Jade nods, a big, toothy grin on her face. “Hi! My name is Jade, and I am five-years-old but my birthday is September 19th, so I’m actually almost six-years-old,” she tells them matter-of-factly. “It’s very nice to meet you!” She adds, remembering the script you gave them earlier. Harry looks down at her, an impressed look on his face.

“Well, it is very lovely to meet you too, Jade! Do we all know how to play iSpy?” Jade and Matthew shout in excitement, but Ava just grips tighter onto Harry’s hand. He looks down at her again. “Do y’ want Miss Y/L/N and I to show you how to play, Ava?” His voice is very quiet, slow, and soothing. She nods, letting go of his hand.

“Well Ava,” you say, looking around for something to start the game out with. “I would say, “I spy with my little eye something green. Then you, Mr. Styles, Matthew, and Jade, would have to look around and name out everything that’s green. If you name something and it’s not it, then I will tell you nope, and you can try again, but if you figure it out, then you’re the winner! Does that make sense?”

She nods, and you see a gleam of excitement in her eyes. “Can I go first?” She asks quietly. You tell her, yes, and she looks around quickly, trying to find something to say. “I spy with my little eye something blue!” She has a triumphant smile on her face, and even though you immediately know she’s talking about the sky and you’re sure Harry does too, you both decide to take a step back and let the children take the game into their own hands.

“Y’know, that lil’ introduction Jade gave was really somethin’. I didn’t even think about teachin’ my kids that. Think I’ll try that out tomorrow,” Harry whispers, craning his neck slightly to be at your ear. You shiver at the feeling of his warm breath against your skin. 

“Yeah, I feel like that’s always a good first day of school activity for them to do. A lot of them have never really been exposed to people outside of their immediate family, so they’re not too sure how to talk to others.” Harry hums, standing back up straight.

“Mr. Styles,” Matthew calls, running over to Harry. “My mommy is here. Can I go now?” Harry nods, telling Matthew to wait for him so he can say hi to his mother. You watch as he walks away, overhearing as he tells the boy’s mother what a great job he did today and how he’s so excited to go through this school year with him in his class. Ten minutes later, Jade and Ava are gone as well, and Harry locks the dismissal gate. 

“I forgot how exhausting the first day could be,” he tells you, letting out a quiet sigh. “Ready to go to that meeting, though? It’s just about three.” You check your watch and see the time read at 2:57 PM.

“Yeah, just let me grab my bag, and we can head over there. I’m really hoping this won’t take too long; I was planning on going grocery shopping after this,” you walk down the hall towards your classroom and feel Harry’s gaze on you.

“Where do you like to go grocery shopping?” he asks after a few moments of silence. “I need to pick up some groceries this week, too. ’ve been eatin’ takeout for the past week, and I’m starting to feel like shit.” You laugh, unlocking your door. Harry stands outside, holding it open while you grab your purse and lunch bag.

“Honestly, I don’t have a preference. I switch it up a lot,” you shrug, making sure all the windows are closed before walking out. “Was there something, in particular, you were looking for?”

“Uh,” Harry scratches the back of his head. “No? Maybe you could text me a list of all your favorite stores, though. Jus’ so I won’t forget.”

You quirk an eyebrow at him, ignoring how fast your heart was beating. “Are you asking for my number, Mr. Styles?”

“I guess I am,” he replies nonchalantly. “We’re gonna be workin’ together a lot. Might as well have your number– if that’s okay, I mean.” He looks down at you.

“Yeah, remind me after the meeting,” you tell him, trying your hardest to play it cool. “Don’t let me forget.”

“Trust me, I won’t.”

“So Y/N and Harry, you two will be in charge of the pumpkin decorating booth? Is that right?” The principal looks down at his notes and then shifts his gaze between the both of you. You both nod.

“Yeah, I’m excited! I think it’ll be a lot of fun,” you reply excitedly. “We can go to the craft store and get a bunch of paints, but where do you think the best place to get the pumpkins would be?” You pull out your planner, ready to jot down any suggestions.

“You two could try going to a pumpkin patch? They’re starting to pop-up around town,” one teacher suggests. “I’m sure if you purchased a bunch and told them it was for a school event, we could get some kind of deal.” The rest of the faculty buzzes in agreement.

“Y/N and Harry, could you get to a pumpkin patch sometimes this week and see if they can give us an estimate of how much it would cost? Then I could let the PTA know.” You and Harry confirm that it will be possible to do sometime this week, and the meeting continues on.

By the time you’re finally free to leave the meeting, it’s already growing dark outside. Harry’s hands are shoved in his pockets, and he’s looking down at his feet. “So–”

“Do you want–”

You both stop, laughing awkwardly. “You go first.” you tighten the grip on your purse.

“Uh, I was jus’ gonna ask if I could get your number now. Yanno, so we can plan when we’re gonna go get all the stuff for our booth? And you still gotta tell me what your favorite grocery stores are,” he has a playful look in his eyes. For the thousandth time that day, your hands become clammy. There was just something about every interaction you had with him that made you so nervous. 

“Oh yeah,” you answer coolly, digging in your purse for your phone. “Just text your number, so I have it.” You hand him his phone, and he stops dead in his tracks, a look of concentration on his face. 

“I can’t walk and be on the phone at the same time,” he mutters when he looks back up and realizes you were watching him the whole time. “I don’t know how people do it.” He hands you back your phone. “What were y’ gonna ask me?”

“I was just um, I was gonna ask if you wanted me to give you a ride home? I mean, since you walked to work today and it’ll be dark soon,” talking to Harry made you feel like a nervous school girl interacting with her first crush, and you hated that feeling.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that–”

“It’s no bother, really,” you cut him off, and you realize you sound a little eager, but at that point, you didn’t even care. “I’m sure we don’t live too far from each other.” Harry looks slightly unsure but nods, and you let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

“If you’re sure, Y/N. I appreciate it, I owe you one,” he’s following behind you to the teacher parking lot. You silently pray your car isn’t messy inside like it usually is as you approach it. You decide to pick up your pace and walk ahead of him, telling yourself if the passenger side was messy, you’d just quickly throw everything in the back. “Heyyyy, why’re you walkin’ so fast? Are you sure you’ve got the time to take me home?” He takes a few big strides and quickly catches up with your hurried, tiny ones.

“Yeah, of course, I have time,” you respond, unlocking your car as you approach it. “If it’s messy, then just ignore it.” you preface, honestly not remembering the state in which you left your car this morning when you walked into work.

“Don’t worry about it. You should see mine,” Harry jokes, and it immediately puts you at ease. As you’re about to open your door, Harry quickly rushes to your side, opening it himself. “Let me.” 

His hand rests over yours, and you quickly pull it away, your body heating up. “Harry, I’m already right here. I can open my own car door.” 

“I know you can. But I’m a gentle—“ 

“You’re a gentleman, I know,” you playfully roll your eyes and take a step back, allowing Harry to open your car door all the way. You couldn’t lie and say you weren’t flattered and honestly a little bit turned on. He flashes you a smile as you situate yourself behind the wheel of the car and makes sure you’re all the way in before slamming it shut. You see him lightly jog around to the passenger side, and soon enough, he’s beside you, your car immediately starting to smell like his cologne. 

“What music do you like to listen to?” Harry asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. 

“You ask me a lot of random questions, Harry,” you reply, looking behind you as you slowly back out. 

“Is it a crime to wanna get to know my new coworker?” you can hear a smile in his voice. “C’mon. What’s your favorite music to listen to?” 

You shrug, looking both ways before exiting the parking lot. “Where do you live?” 

“I don’t know my address yet. Just take a left at this light coming up. Favorite music?” Out of the corner of his eye, you see him scrolling through his music library. 

“You don’t know your address yet?” 

“No. I’ll play something random,” he says, tapping his hand on his knee. “You can take a right at that stop sign up there.” You put on your blinker and glance over your shoulder before switching lanes. Harry quickly pairs his phone with your Bluetooth, and a song you’re unfamiliar with blares through your speakers. Neither one of you says anything else, only speaking to each other when he’s giving you directions to his house, and you’re confirming what he said.

After two more songs, Harry says, “S’right up here.” He’s led you to a beautiful apartment complex— one you were looking at when you were moving out of your parent’s home but just couldn’t afford as a new graduate. You expertly parallel park and then turn the car off, a silence falling between the two of you.

“This is a nice complex,” you tell him after a moment. “Really close to school. I see why you opted to walk to work today.” 

“Mhm,” he hums. His seatbelt is still fastened. “I understand if you’re busy, but did you wanna come in?” You raise an eyebrow at him, and he quickly backtracks. “I mean— it’s just— remember the activity you taught your kids today? About introductions? Jus’ wanted to know if you could walk me through it, that’s all.” 

“Oh. Well yeah, I can hang out for a bit.” You unbuckle your seatbelt and reach in the backseat for your purse that you threw haphazardly over your shoulder earlier. 

“Will your boyfriend be okay with you coming in, though?” He’s chewing on the inside of his cheek.

“What makes you think I have a boyfriend?” You’re slightly taken aback and oddly flattered that he thought you were in a relationship.

“I dunno,” his face grows red. “You got all weird when I opened doors for ya. Figured you had a boyfriend.”

“I don’t.”

“Cool.” More silence falls, this time an awkward one.

“Should we go inside now?” you unlock the doors, quickly getting out of the car. Harry follows behind you and waits for you to walk onto the sidewalk before going up the walkway.

“How close do you live to me?” Harry asks, punching in his gate code. He pulls the gate open and gestures for you to go ahead of him. You decide not to comment on it this time.

“A couple blocks away. I could probably walk over here if I was in the mood to,” Harry shuts the gate behind you and walks over to the first set of stairs, taking them two at a time. “I was interested in this complex when I was moving out of my parents’ but I settled on something else.” He hums, stopping in front of the first door at the top of the stairs. There’s a brown ‘Welcome!’ mat outside his door, along with a few potted plants.

“Here we are,” he looks over his shoulder as if he’s checking if you’re still there. “Excuse the boxes. ‘M not done unpacking yet.” He pushes open the door and steps in, quickly turning on the light. You’re met with the same sweet scent of vanilla that’s in his classroom. Considering he was in the process of unpacking, his apartment was reasonably tidy.

“It looks good in here,” your heart felt like it was going to beat out of your chest. You were in your coworker’s house that you just met that day, and you could already feel yourself developing a crush on him. There was obviously no way you’d let this relationship progress past anything strictly professional, but that didn’t mean you weren’t allowed to admire his beauty.

“Thanks,” he gives you a smile, relief washing over his face. “You can set your bag down if you want. Take a seat, make yourself at home.” He leaves the room, and you hear him rattling around in the kitchen. “Can I get you anything to drink? Wine? Coffee? Tea?”

“Coffee sounds great,” you reply. You set your purse down on his coffee table and sit on the edge of his couch, inspecting his living room closer. There were two books on the table, both flipped upside down as a way to mark his page. There were a few more plants inside, similar to the ones in front of his door. There was a framed picture of him with two beautiful women you assumed to be his mother and sister. Harry comes back into the room a few minutes later, two steaming cups of black coffee in hand.

“Here you are, Miss Y/L/N,” he puts on an exaggerated posh accent, and you giggle.

“Why thank you, Mr. Styles,” you respond in the same voice. “Do you have cream and sugar?”

He wrinkles his nose. “I think I might have sugar. Is oat milk, okay? I don’t have cream.” He goes back to his kitchen to retrieve the items before you can tell him it’s okay, and you’ll just drink it black. You thank him, pouring the tiniest splash of oat milk into your coffee. You can feel his eyes on you as you add a bit of sugar, stir, taste, and then add some more.

“So,” you begin after your coffee is made to your liking. “What did you think about your first day? You can be honest since we’re not on campus anymore.” Harry laughs, looking down at his fingernails.

“Uh,” he starts. You notice he says, ‘uh’ a lot. “It was terrific. Not so sure I would’ve felt the same way if I didn’t have you to help me through it.” 

“We’re partners in crime now, Harry. We’re the two Kindergarten teachers, and you’re the only other person there my age? We’ve definitely gotta stick together,” you give him a big smile. He doesn’t smile back but looks a bit troubled instead. You wait for him to speak, coming to accept that long pauses were just a thing when having a conversation with Harry.

“Y’know how I assumed you had a boyfriend earlier? I thought after I’d said that–– rather I hoped after I said that you’d be like,” he clears his throat. “‘Why, no! I don’t have a boyfriend. Do you have a girlfriend?’” He put on the worst American accent you’d ever heard to imitate your voice, causing you to laugh. “To which I would’ve replied with a simple ‘no.’” 

Now it’s your turn to leave Harry wondering what you’re thinking for the first time all day. You can feel his eyes on you as you look at his couch cushions, noticing a bit of crumbs that you hadn’t seen before. “Are you flirting with me?”

“I think you’re beautiful.”

“You don’t even know me. We just met today.”

“Does that mean I can’t think you’re beautiful?”

You bite your lip, feeling yourself starting to grow a bit turned on by his forwardness. There was a part of you that would risk it all for just one night in bed with Harry because you just found him that attractive. The rational, adult side of you was screaming, ‘Don’t mix business with pleasure!’. By now, you had both moved closer on the couch to one another, knees nearly touching. “I think you’re beautiful, too.” He grins, setting his coffee cup down. You do the same.

“Would it be crazy of me to tell you that I really wanna kiss you right now?” His face is mere inches from yours, so close that you could smell the coffee on his breath. You shake your head.

“No. I really wanna kiss you too.”

“C’ mere, then.” 

Harry leans forward a bit more until his lips are ghosting over yours. You pull at the collar of his shirt, bringing his already close body even closer to yours. His lips are softer than they look, and he’s a better kisser than you thought he’d be, too. He brings his hands up to tangle them in your hair, and that’s when you abruptly pull away, not wanting things to go too far. “We shouldn’t…” He looks at you with sad eyes, but he nods, understanding what you mean.

“Probably not the best idea?” his response comes out as more of a question than a statement, but you nod in agreement anyway.

“Definitely not. I’m um–– I’m actually gonna go,” you stand up, slinging your purse over your shoulder. “Thanks for the coffee, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Yeah, see––”

You’re out the door, rushing down the stairs before he can even finish his sentence.

The rest of the school week goes on without either one of you mentioning it. It’s a little awkward for a couple of days, but by the time Friday rolls around, both of you decide the best course of action to take regarding the kiss would be to act like it never happened. 

You’re in your room at lunch hanging up your kids’ artwork they made during their ‘Free Time’ this morning, having declined Harry’s lunch invitation for the fourth time that week. You decided to pretend to be busy with work so you wouldn’t be too tempted to go into his room. To most people, you’re sure it looked like you were avoiding him–– and maybe you were. However, you were trying to get over this crush on him in the best way that you knew how.

“Need some help?”

You jump, nearly falling backward off the stepstool you were on. “Holy shit, Harry! You scared the hell out of me!” You feel your body getting warm, and you quickly look away, not wanting him to see how flustered you were.

“Sorry, you weren’t answering my texts, so I decided to come see what you were up to,” he walks over to where you were standing and hands you a piece of art, smiling at it before handing it to you. “You’ve got some artists in your class.”

“Mhm,” you hum, not looking him in the eyes. You hear him let out a quiet sigh.

“Still able to go see about getting those pumpkins ordered after work?”

You had completely forgotten that you and Harry decided today would be the day you’d go get the pumpkin situated figured out for your booth. For a second, you consider making an excuse to get out of it, but you decide against it. This was something that both of you were asked to do, not just him, and you didn’t want the fact that you let your attraction to him cloud your judgment getting in the way of your professional responsibilities.

“Yeah, that works.”

He doesn’t say anything, and even though you’re not looking at him, you can see the gears in his head turning. “Should we talk––” 

You’re quite literally saved by the bell, the end of lunch interrupting where you knew he was about to lead the conversation. “I’ll see you after school? Did you walk here again? I can drive.” Harry nods slowly.

“Uh, yeah. he replies. “I walked. Uh, ’m gonna go get my kids. See you after school then?”

“Yup!” you respond, fake enthusiasm in your voice. Harry gives you one more look before walking out of your room. You wait until he’s all the way down the hall before following behind him to bring your class back inside. You knew you were the one making things awkward between you and Harry. However, the realistic part of you knew getting involved with your coworker was one of the worst ideas you’d ever had in your life. For now, you’d just tell yourself that you were probably more into Harry than he was into you and pray that would be enough to make you get over your crush.

“I haven’t been to a pumpkin patch since I was a kid.” Harry stuffs his hands farther into his pockets while yours are tightly hugging your chest. You hum, not saying anything. The car ride there was a little awkward, and you were glad it was so short. You could tell there was a lot Harry wanted to say, but you were glad he wasn’t saying it. You keep seeing him glance at you, but you pretend not to notice.

“What size pumpkins should we ask for? Small ones, huh?” Harry nods, looking around in childlike awe. There was a small petting zoo, booths selling warm drinks and kettle corn, and an obscene amount of children.

You walk around together for a moment before encountering a friendly-looking employee who looked like he could help you out. Harry takes over, explaining the situation, and why you need to order one hundred tiny pumpkins. While you’re waiting for the employee to ask the owner if that would even be possible, Harry turns to face you.

“Y/N? Can we talk about what happened on Monday?” you’re about to tell him that you’d rather not, but he continues. “I felt something during that kiss, Y/N. I’m not sure if you felt it too, but I don’t want things to be awkward between us. We have to get through an entire school year working side-by-side, and if you’re not interested, then I respect that one hundred percent, but I just want––”

“So the owner said that is possible!” The employee that was helping you out comes back with a form and clipboard in their hand. “Can you just fill out some information and let us know what time you need it tomorrow? The owner said he could get it delivered and give you guys a discount since you’re ordering so much.”

“That’s great!” you exclaim, taking the form from him. You were glad to have been saved from your conversation with Harry. You quickly go through and fill out everything you can, telling them they can bill your school’s PTA. 

The walk back to your car is silent. You’re replaying what Harry was saying to you over in your head, thinking about what he was going to say before he was interrupted. He opens your car door like he’s been doing, but he doesn’t make eye contact with you or say a word as he slides into the passenger seat.

“Y’can just drop me off,” Harry says quietly. He leans your seat back and closes his eyes. You wait to see if he’ll connect his phone, but he doesn’t, so you turn on the radio at a volume so low it almost can’t be heard. It takes everything in you not to speed back to his place. You just wanted him out of your car. You had such strong feelings for him that it physically hurt, and restraining yourself from telling him how you really felt was growing harder and harder.

“We’re here.” your voice is a little hoarse from not saying anything. Harry slowly opens his eyes and unbuckles his seatbelt, opening the door.

“Right. Thanks for the ride. What time do we need to be at school to set up our booth by?”

“Four. I can pick you up if you want?”

“Yeah. See you tomorrow, Y/N.” He closes the door and walks up to his gate without looking back at you once.

“Hi Miss Y/L/N! Hi Mr. Styles!”

Groups of your students had been coming up to you excitedly all evening. It made you happy to see that the Kindergarten classes were no longer divided. They were starting to hang out with one another. Their parents tell you how their children thought it was just the coolest thing to be on school grounds on a Saturday, and how even though it was only a week into the school year, they were having the best time. It was comments like this that made you fall in love with your job all over again.

Things between you and Harry were going well. It wasn’t awkward, but you think it was because you were both too busy helping children paint their pumpkins. You were glad that Harry didn’t take the bit of downtime the two of you had when no one was at your booth trying to talk about the kiss and instead talked about other random things instead. You find out he loves baking (specifically, bread), he has an obsession with old music, and has about fifty tattoos. He talks to his mom on the phone every day, and he is extremely close to his sister. You tell him about your parents’, your undergraduate experience, your hobbies, and you finally tell him what music you like to listen to.

The festival quickly comes to an end, and you find yourself sad once you and Harry are done cleaning up your booth, knowing that you were just going to drop him off at his apartment and go back to yours to spend another Saturday night alone. You get to his complex almost too quickly, and you almost want to keep going and pretend you accidentally missed it just to be with him a bit longer. Instead, you park.

“D’ya wanna come inside?” He blurts out. Even in the darkness of your car, you can tell his face is flushed. “I mean if you haven’t got plans. I know it’s a Saturday night, so I understand if––”

“Nope, I don’t have plans. I’d love to.” Your hands are shaky as you unbuckle your seatbelt. He quickly gets out of your car and runs around to your side, opening the door for you before you can do it yourself. You almost don’t even notice since it was becoming such a habit.

“I picked up this new bottle of wine a couple days ago that’ve been wanting to pop open. Think we deserve a glass or two after such a long week, hmm?” You wordlessly nod, wholly mesmerized with just how good Harry looked after such a long day of work. His curls fell perfectly across his forehead, his eyes were sparkling and full of excitement. 

“A glass of wine sounds great,” you reply with a chuckle. “I’m ready to drink a whole bottle by the end of the week if I’m being honest.” Harry laughs, quickly punching in his gate code. You could see his hands shaking a little bit, but you decide not to comment on it. He takes the stairs up to his apartment two at a time like he did last time you were there, but this time there’s an urgency and clumsiness to his actions that you haven’t seen before. He jams the key in his lock, quickly shoving the door open.

His apartment is a little messier than it was when you were in it at the beginning of the week, but it’s nothing disgusting. He runs his fingers through his curls, moving aside papers that were scattered along the length of the couch. “Sorry, I was doin’ some planning. Make yourself comfortable.” He disappears to the kitchen, and moments later, you hear the pop of a wine cork and the smooth sound of him pouring the alcohol into glasses.

He emerges from his kitchen, handing you a generously poured glass of wine. “Thanks, Harry,” you tell him before taking a big sip. It was sweet, and while you usually preferred a more dry wine, it was still delicious. 

“Cheers to the end of a successful first week,” he holds up his glass, and you smile, clinking yours with his. “Thanks for helpin’ me get through it, Y/N. Couldn’t have done it without you.” You give him a timid smile.

“Stop, Harry. You’re a great teacher. I can see your kids love you already,” you take another sip of wine. “I kinda do too. I mean–– that came out wrong. I don’t love you, but I do think I like you.” You didn’t know what came over you at that moment, but something told you now was the time to lay it all out on the table with Harry. He sets his glass of wine down, the biggest smile on his face.

“Really? I thought you weren’t interested. Was kinda startin’ to feel like you hate me,” he sounds a little sad. You shake your head.

“Quite the opposite, actually. I’m really into you,” you didn’t even realize how you’d inched your way towards Harry. “I’ve been trying not to think about how we kissed because we shouldn’t, you know? We’re coworkers. I’ve been trying not to think about it all week, though, and I just can’t get you out of my mind.” He stares intensely into your eyes, chewing on the inside of his cheek like he usually does when he’s thinking.

“Can I kiss you, Y/N?” he finally asks. You’re in the same position as you were last time, being mere inches away from the other’s lips. Only this time, you smell the wine on his breath, not coffee. You nod quickly, and Harry cups your face in his hands, hungrily pressing his lips against yours.

“You can do more than kiss me, actually,” you tell him breathlessly. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

Harry raises an eyebrow, a shocked look on his face. “When you say anything…” he trails off.

“I want you to fuck me, Harry,” you tell him bluntly. “Please. Been wanting that all week.” He licks his lips, looking at you in a way he hasn’t yet before. 

“I can definitely do that,” he replies, resting his hand on your thigh. His large hand is dangerously close to your pussy, and you can already feel yourself growing wet. “Let’s get all these clothes off you then, huh?” 

You stand up and quickly start removing your clothes. First, your blouse comes off, and that’s quickly followed by your bra. Harry’s leaning back on the couch, arms resting behind his head. “Enjoying the show?” you ask, quickly pulling down your jeans and underwear. You’re completely naked in front of him in thirty seconds flat, and you reckon that’s the fastest you’ve ever undressed for anything. 

“Very much so,” he mumbles, palming himself over his khakis. “C’ mere, Y/N.” he pats his lap, and you move to sit in it, now straddling him. He softly presses his lips against yours, the hunger that was there just a moment ago completely dissipated. This was a much more hesitant kiss, more gentle and tender. “You’re really beautiful, Y/N.”

You giggle. “I know. You’ve told me that before.”

“I want you to know how much I mean it.”

“I know you do.”

Harry nods. “Can I have a taste of ya now?” you notice that his accent sounds a bit thicker than usual, voice a tad gruffer. You nod, swallowing thickly. Climbing off Harry, you lay back on the couch, situating yourself, so it’s a little more comfortable. He looks into your eyes, placing his hands on your knees. “Is this okay, Y/N?” You nod again, and he removes his hands.

“What’s wrong?” your voice has a hint of desperation in it, but after a week of extreme sexual tension, you wanted nothing more than to cum by the hands of this man.

“Wanna hear you tell me it’s okay. I don’t wanna do anything you don’t want,” he’s looking down at his hands.

“Harry, I wouldn’t have given you a striptease and laid back on this couch for you if I didn’t want it. I wholeheartedly give you permission to do whatever you want with me––”

That’s enough for him. He roughly pries your legs open, immediately licking a long stripe up your heat. You cry out, not expecting him to get right into it. You look down at him and groan when you see he’s making eye contact with you, a smug look on his face. “How’s tha’, love?” You nod, tangling your hands in his curls.

“Yeah Harry, please,” you moan. Harry sucks harshly at your clit, pulling off loudly, the sound echoing throughout his minimally furnished apartment.

“Please what, pet?” He’s looking you dead in the eyes, a devilish grin on his face while his index finger rubs small circles on your clit. Your chest is heaving up and down quickly as you try to calm your breathing down.

“Please make me cum on your tongue, Harry,” you try pushing his head back down to your cunt, but he doesn’t budge.

“Think I rather like hearin’ you beg like this fo’ me. Enjoyin’ watching you squirm like tha’, love.” Just as your about to beg for him some more to feed his inflated ego, he attaches his lips to your clit once more, this time adding his ring finger into your tight pussy. “You’re tight. Sure you’ll be able to take my cock?” His voice is muffled, and you just barely make out what he says.

You clench around his finger, and he laughs, the vibrations sending a new sensation across your clit. “Y’like thinkin’ about my cock, hmm?”

“Yeah, want you in me,” you beg, lifting your hips up. He grips onto your hips tightly, keeping you in place.

“Can feel yeh gettin’ ready for me, darlin’. Think you can take another one?” You nod, and Harry gently places kitten licks on your swollen clit while he slowly pushes his middle finger into you. You feel full in a way you haven’t felt in such a long time, and he only had two fingers in you. Once he pumps his fingers in and out of you a few times, he goes back to harshly sucking on his clit, moaning every so often so you can feel the vibrations against your cunt.

“Fuck,” you’re moaning loudly, and you pray Harry’s neighbors don’t hear you, knowing how thin apartment walls were.

“So fuckin’ wet for me, doll,” he mutters, adding another finger inside you. The burn feels amazing, and you place your hand on his wrist, urging him to go faster. “Gonna cum in my mouth, hmm? Gonna let me feel ya around m’ fingers?”

“Yes, please, Harry,” you feel yourself nearly there, your orgasm threatening to overtake you at any moment. 

“Give it to me then, Y/N. Cum for me,” he demands. As soon as he says those three words, you’re done for, your body going tense as waves of pleasure roll throughout your body. He doesn’t remove his digits from the your cunt until you’re coming down from your high, placing a kiss to your clit. He laughs as you shudder at the overstimulation. Harry places his three fingers that were just inside of you and his mouth and sucks on them, not once breaking eye contact with you. 

“That was really good,” you tell him, crawling on your knees towards him to place a kiss on the underside of his jaw—Harry’s beaming, a triumphant look on his face.

“Not yet. Gotta make y’ cum one more time. I’m a gentleman, after all.” You know he’s messing with you but also serious, so you lean back on the couch, opening your legs once again.

“Are you gonna take off your clothes too? Why am I the only one that’s naked?” Harry laughs, and you hear the clanking of his belt as he undoes it. 

“You’re impatient, aren’t ya?” you nod, and he pulls down his tenting khakis and tight boxers. His cock springs up, slightly touching his stomach, and he hisses at the feeling. “Hold on a sec.” He gets up quickly, and you hear him hurry to what you assume in the bathroom, rummaging around. He comes back a minute later with a box of condoms, making you laugh.

“Is that a new box of condoms? Have you been holding onto those all week, Mr. Styles?” Harry rolls his eyes and opens the box, ripping open a condom expertly with his teeth.

“Weren’t you just the one beggin’ for me, pet? I’d watch it if I were you,” he jokes, rolling the condom onto his hard length. He leans down to place wet, opened mouth kisses to your breasts. “So beautiful.”

“Are you gonna take off your shirt?” you ask quietly. “I kinda wanna see all your tattoos.” Harry raises an eyebrow at you but unbuttons his shirt nevertheless, throwing it into the mess of clothes scattered around the living room. You reach your hand up, shakily tracing the swallows on his chest, moving down to the butterfly across his stomach and finally to the ferns on his abdomen. Harry’s staring down at you, watching as you delicately touch his skin. “You have so many.” you finally say. He nods.

“Yeah. Some of them I just got for the hell of it. Felt like after I got that first tattoo, it was hard to stop.” He caresses the skin on your thighs, and you shudder again. “Gonna let me get inside that pretty lil’ cunt now?”

“Please.”

Harry aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes into you, sharply inhaling as you clench around his length. “Relax, Y/N.’ve got ya,” he tells you reassuringly. “Can’t get inside ya if you’re all tense like tha’.” You can tell Harry’s trying his hardest not to absolutely wreck you, the vein in his forehead very prominent from clenching his jaw so tightly. You grip tightly onto his bicep, biting your lip as you adjust to his size. You were so wet and indescribably turned on that you felt every vein his thick cock had to offer, and you knew you wouldn’t last long once he started moving. By the looks of it, Harry wouldn’t either.

“You can move,” you tell him, squeezing your eyes shut. Harry slowly pulls out of you and then ever so gently sinks back inside you, bottoming out. He lets out a breathy moan, moving one of his hands up to tweak your nipples. “Harder, Harry, fuck.” 

He immediately pulls out of you and slams back inside, the sounds of his balls slapping against your ass echoing in the room. You scream in pleasure, no longer caring if his neighbors hear what you two were doing. 

“Like tha’?” He asks cheekily, working up a steady rhythm. You nod, gripping your boobs to keep them from bouncing. Harry shakes his head, forcefully removing your hands. “Nope, none of that. Wanna see ’em.” He takes both of your hands in one of his, pinning them up over your head. His other hand reaches in between your bodies to rub at your clit, and before you have time to warn him, you’re cumming again, squirting all over his cock. 

Harry throws his head back in pleasure, his thrusts getting sloppy and frantic, and you know he’s seconds away from his own orgasm. You spur him on, telling him how badly you wanted him to come inside of you (even though he was wearing a condom). He stills moments later, shaking above you as he holds himself up with an arm, not wanting to collapse on top of you.

“Fuckin’ hell, Y/N. Why did we wait a whole week to do this again?”

[amnesiaguy]

oh could i get a preview of the beats for paloma & leslies relationship? how their friendship deepens & what makes them realize they like like each other

at first they're awkward coworkers - paloma is pretty standoffish when not in work mode, and she's still smarting from having to cooperate with her ex jack on a case when she meets leslie. so her head is Not screwed on straight when they meet and she isn't very nice to him, but he is instantly very intimidated by her and wants her approval. the perfect storm. paloma also just has a lot going on in general; she's a thirty year old vampire who's still getting accustomed to being a vampire, her sister is missing presumed runaway, her ex is a petty self righteous bastard (even if she's right more often than she's wrong, much to paloma's chagrin), and dom's hanging on by a thread just kind of in general, and paloma made him her responsibility years ago. it's a lot to handle. so making buddies with the new kid is the last thing on her mind.

of course, once leslie's magic starts manifesting further as his family's curse progresses, he gets her full attention. bastian is too occupied with looking after dom to devote himself to taking care of leslie, and dom is going through major demon-related deterioration, so paloma finds herself being leslie's main source of support, much to her bafflement. so they go from awkward coworkers to awkward buddies through sheer force of spending time together worrying about the same thing. she resents it a little, even though leslie never asked her to do any of it.

speaking of, leslie has a wretched little crush on paloma from the start, but he squashes that down FAST because he's like ??? i am a tryhard college dropout in my twenties with gender dysphoria and she's a cool older goth?????? and paloma kind of picks up on it because she has eyes. she decides it's in everyone's best interest if she politely ignores it.

that is, until leslie's curse reaches a fever-pitch and she bites him to drain a little of the poison out and buy them more time. she looks at leslie differently afterward, sees how strong he is, how dedicated he is to doing the right thing even though he's so scared of what's going to happen to him. he's so bright and vivid and alive (something she doesn't think she was even when her heart was still beating), and she can't help it, she wants him to be alright. but she doesn't WANT to like him. she gets dragged into love kicking and screaming :')

the real turning point is when she realizes that leslie feels exactly the way she does, like a one-of-a-kind creature that will never fit into society (because paloma is a self-hating vampire and leslie is a nonbinary boy-witch who might be a lesbian). they find commonality that turns into deep affection!!