#my coworkers who knows me outside of work as a man. n at this point its like why bother djsjs i dont mind bc i use they

[fagrackham]

my hot guy ice cream scoop summer tryst romance novel persona vs my anthropologie woman in the city commuter romanticizing the little things iced coffee button up perfume persona FIGHT

[springseasonie]

Auralism Pt4 | PJS + ZCL (M)

Jisung x reader x Chenle

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

Summary: Immediately after your interesting introduction to your long time favorite voice actor, you walk to the back of your place of employment and see someone you weren't expecting.

Warming: sexual content, dom Jisung, sub Chenle, switch-ish reader, voyeurism, a little gay tension ???

Word count: 4,8k

A/N: had to write this like 3 times to finish it then I deleted it immediately after finishing on accident but then we got the doc back 🎉🎉 trials and tribulations my friends but it's finally done!! Very sorry for making promises I couldn't keep but I hope you all like it

Something told you to check the back room for your charger but you didn't expect to see the man you just said bye to 5 minutes ago with his dick in his hands. It's like time froze, the way you and Chenle stared at each other in that room. His eyes wide and your hand gripping the door knob. It was like a silent war being fought. Who would say something first, who would make the first move. Chenle glanced at your feet while watching you stare at the cameras. There was one pointing directly at the back of the counter like always.

It shouldn't have taken you this long to put two and two together, but it did and now alarms are going good in your head. You turned your head, looking away from him for a split second, but in that second, Chenle stood up and grabbed you. Your body instantly froze, a sharp gasp leaving your lips as the door slammed behind you, leaving you in the room with him.

“I know this looks bad but-”

“Looks bad,” you said, brows scrunched in confusion. “Your dick is out.”

Chenle looked down, realizing he was still in a very compromising position. Quickly, he turned and fixed himself, face as pale as ever. He's ever been so embarrassed in his life. Chenle wouldn't say he's the best at bidding his perverted thoughts, but he does a damn good job. But this time, he has no idea how he let himself slip up.

“Were you watching me?” You already knew the answer to the question, mouth becoming dry with each second that passed.

Chenle turned around, empty eyes staring at your bizzare expression. He wanted to say something badly, but he couldn't help himself but let his mind wander under your gaze of scrutiny. The fiery look in your eyes made him hot, the anger in your voice made him sweat.

“I-I was,” he admitted.

You gulped, taking deep breaths to try and stop yourself from becoming angrier than you already were. You never took him to be that kind of person but looks can clearly be deceiving. You and Chenle have always kept things on a very normal note, friendly conversation and brief contact outside of work, so to you, all of this was completely left field. But to him, he would think about it all the time. Chenle is good at hiding his feelings. He can keep it cordial with you if need be, playing the character of the nice reliable male coworker. But once he's clocked out, all he can think of is your pretty lips, the leggings you wear to work, the way you talk. He's obsessed with you and there's only one way to get you off his mind.

“That's a really fucked up thing to do,” you said, voice raising a bit. “That's a creep thing to do. You're a fucking creep.” For a moment, Jisung's presence in the building was completely forgotten. The only thing you could do is focus on your anger, trying to bite your tongue in the best way possible. A shiver shot up your spine watching him stare at your lips, the frown on your mouth not deterring him from his sinful thoughts. For some reason you kind of liked it.

“I'm really sorry,” he said. “I just…I don't know.”

“You're joking right? Instead of actually talking to me you watch me like a fucking weirdo.”

Your words travel right to his dick, degrading giving him a sense of gratification. The annoyance and anger you have for the current situation blinds the clear lustful expression on the man's face. Chenle can't speak knowing he has absolutely no rebuttal to anything you're saying, nodding at every word that comes out of your mouth.

“Fucking sick perverted freak,” you groan, reaching for your jacket and bag. You picked it up swiftly, leaving Chenle to stare at you with longing in his eyes.

Opening the door, you stared at your feet, not seeing the figure that stood in front of you, walking right into him.

“Did I scare you?” Jisung's deep voice snapped your chin up, looking at him with wide eyes after completely forgetting about him. Chenle stood and watched, a hint of jealousy starting to brew in him but also curiosity. He watched you fuck him on camera but would it be different in front of him? Would you be more shy and timid or would you turn it up a notch? Chenle wouldn't describe himself as a voyeur, but he's tempted to take on that label full time.

Jisung is an attractive guy, tall, deep voice, nice lips. Of course you're into him, he's practically perfect. Chenle doesn't think he's inferior to him, just a little different. Regardless, you're still attracted to him so it doesn't matter who you have sex with, he'll still have a chance.

“I'm sorry I forgot you were out there,” you said in a panic, only for Jisung to shrug his shoulders.

“Well I see that,” he says. He looks up from you, facing the man who stood across the room. “And who is this?”

Jisung eyes him closely, eyes moving up and down to size him up. You look at him nervously, gulping at the unwanted interaction. You didn't want this to end your chances of ever seeing him again, wanting for Chenle to go home as quickly as possible. But every time you looked at him he was hoping he didn't have to leave. He stood there silent as he allowed his hard on to grow more and more slowly. Was he thinking about fucking you and Jisung watches or the other around? Or was he thinking about Jisung and himself fucking you at the same time?

“Chenle.” You answer. “He was…”

“Watching us?” Jisung looks at you, brow raised when your brows furrow.

“I-I was not-”

“Don't lie,” Jisung said. Deep voice filled the room. “you're a creep.” Chenle watched Jisung sneak his hand around your waist, pulling you to his body. He pressed your hips against his groin, burying his face in your neck. A smirk slid across his face watching Chenle’s eyes widen at the sight, staring at Jisung's hands sliding down your hips and between your legs.

Chenle takes the scene in, your small gasp tickling his ears as he watches the man rub you between your leggings. He can feel the blood moving right to his dick making it harder and harder. He watches Jisung take his other hand off your hip and place it on your neck, holding your jaw firmly.

“Look at him Y/N, he looks like he's gonna explode,” Jisung says in your ear.

You look at Chenle whose cheeks are like tomatoes. Mouth slightly open, lips dry as he watches you get felt up steps away from him. He wants to touch you too, to feel you, hear you. You were beginning to enjoy this, Jisung touching you like he owned you and Chenle being forced to watch like a sad puppy. Jisung rubbed your clothes clit, smirking as you let out soft moans. 

“You're so pretty. Right Chenle? Isn't she pretty?” 

He gulped, breath hitching when the younger male suddenly turned his attention to him. “Y-yes of course.” 

“Prove it.” 

Chenle gave him a blank stare. “W-what?” 

“Show her how pretty you think she is.”

Chenle watches Jisung reach into your pants, your hands wrapped around his wrist as he begins to toy with your body, moans pouring from your lips. Mindlessly, Chenle's hands reach into his own as well, wrapping his palm around his cock, pumping it slowly.

“Fuck,” you whine softly, pushing your body against Jisung's hand more. Your eyes were closed, but there was no doubt Chenle's eyes were on you. Jisung kissed your forehead, circling his fingers in your soaked cunt while you grind, a scene that played in Chenle's mind for a long time. 

The male across the room kept pumping himself as slow as possible, not wanting to cum too fast from watching you. “Shit,” he mumbled.

“Tell her what you like about her,” Jisung ordered, blinking slowly at the man in front of him. 

“I..uh..” he could barely think straight. All he could think about was pushing the guy away and taking you right there. Feeling your tight pretty pussy around him, making you scream his name. “I like her eyes..”

Jisung scoffed, his gaze on you permanent as he slowly pushed two fingers into your wet hole. 

“J-Jisung, fuck,” you whines softly, knees feeling like jelly when he begins to move them in you. 

“I know baby, I know,” he mumbles. 

Chenle hadn't realized how fast he was pulling himself, hand constantly moving like it had a mind of its own. His heavy breathing was heard all over the room, so much so it caught your attention. You opened your eyes, staring right at him. His flushed cheeks, furrowed brows, pretty lips. You're loving this more and more as the seconds go by, wanting to torture him a little bit more. 

“Her eyes can't be the only thing you like.” 

Chenle opens his mouth, but can barely focus with the way you're grinding on Jisung's fingers, desperate for more as you maintain eye contact with him. “I-I like her lips. The way she says my name. I like her..fuck..her nice ass..” 

Your lips curve into a smirk hearing him speak, begging him to keep speaking. 

“Prettiest voice, prettiest moans..” 

Chenle is breathless at this point, mouth dry watching you bite your lip, furrowing your brows at the combination of Jisung's fingers and Chenle's praise. The sweat glistening on your forehead under the dim lighting made you even prettier. The boy's soft pants were turning into moans, hand quickly pumping himself as Jisung speeds up his fingers inside of you.

“Ji, oh fuck,” you whimpered, legs clamping around his hand.

“Gonna come for me, hm? Cum all over yourself like a dirty little slut?” 

He watches you, lips between his teeth as you nod fast, not daring to tear your eyes from him. His fingers continue pounding into your sloppy wet hole, the sound of your pussy filling the room. Your eyes roll back, pressure building in your stomach faster and faster. Your walls are getting tighter and tighter around his fingers, mouth open as you moan over and over again. 

“I-Im cumming, fuck Jisung,” you moan, head falling on his shoulder, body shaking at the feeling. Your cream all over his hand, hips pushing on his fingers more and more as you reached your high. 

The both of you completely forgot about the other body across the room, lost in each other's touch and feeling. Chenle didn't even realize he came until he removed his hand from his pants, the sticky liquid all over his hand making him cringe. He's never been in a situation like this before, watching someone have sex right in front of him, being caught watching someone. It's a turn on, a sensation he never knew existed. 

“Chenle,” Jisung stated, “get on your knees.”

“W-what?” 

“Get down.” 

Chenle felt his stomach erupt in nerves, carefully falling to his knees on the other side of the room. He watches you walk up to him carefully, the prettiest glow in your skin that he's ever seen. The man is silent as he watches you undress in front of him, shoes go first, your leggings come down painfully slow. He needed you so badly he could practically taste you already, already seeing how much you came through your panties.

“You don't get to touch her till I say so,” Jisung says, coming behind you placing his hands on your hips. 

Chenle gulped, still watching you from his lashes. You hadn't said a word, allowing Jisung to take the lead on the entire situation and for some reason that scared him. 

“What do you want from her right now?” 

Chenle gazed at you, a dreamy expression in his eyes while watching your hand trail done to your panties. “I want to taste her.” 

“I'll let you if you apologize,” you respond, a shaky breath falling from your lips when your finger grazes your swollen clit. 

“I-Im sorry.” 

“For?”

The man looked like a puppy below you, brows knit, faint whines coming from him. If he had a tail, it would be wagging off the charts. His hands are grabbing at his pants, his hard on so clearly visible. He's nervous, not sure what to say and it's making him sweat but he has to say something. 

“For…uh…”

“For being a creep,” you finish, tone a bit stern. He nods, making you raise your brow slightly. “Say it.” 

“I'm sorry for being a creep.” 

“And?”

He gulps. The back and forth is beginning to frustrate him, just wanting to move your ruined panties to the side and give you what you've been dying for. But he knows he needs to do whatever you ask. After all, he is in the wrong. 

“And watching you in secret.” 

“Good boy,” you mumbled with a soft smile. Jisung rubbed circles in your hips, watching you pull your soaked underwear to the side. Chenle didn't wait for a single second before letting his mouth attach to your core. He ate you like a starved man, sucking and licking any part of you he could. Chenle's sweaty palms grabbed your legs, squeezing your thighs as if they were stress balls. 

“Fuck he's really going at you baby,” Jisung's raspy voice spoke in your ear, hands slipping under your shirt massaging your breasts. Jisung kisses your neck softly and slowly, grinding his clothed cock on your ass. 

“Fuck Chenle,” you whimper softly. He sucks your clit nice and hard, slurping noises filling the room. “Just like that.” 

He looks at you through his lashes, big brown eyes staring at you for approval as he flicks his tongue on your sensitive bud. Chenle keeps going, unable to hold back making you begin to shiver. Chenle feels your legs getting weak, but the other male behind you holds you up. He starts to groan, feeling you grind on his mouth, wanting to feel more of him. Chenle sticks his tongue out, allowing you to grind on his face more. 

“You look so pretty, baby. Keep fucking his face, just like that,” Jisung whispers in your ear, instantly giving you butterflies. 

“Oh fuck,” you whine, grabbing Chenle's hair pulling him closer to you. He flicked his tongue on your sensitive bud faster, his groans turning you on more and more. He sucks your clit hard, your eyes rolling back at the feeling, getting closer and closer to your orgasm. “Shit.. you're such a good boy..” 

“Are you gonna cum in his mouth,” Jisung whispers. 

You nod, moans getting louder and louder by the second. Your grip on his hair got stronger, making the boy whine in pain and pleasure. You could feel him melt in your hands when you came, legs trembling when his tongue lapped up your juices, eyes never breaking from your pretty face. 

But before Chenle could get too carried away, Jisung pulls your hand off his head, pulling his face from your legs. He was a mess, his hair disheveled, lips pink and plump, face wet with your cum. He's never been this desperate for a girl in his life, but you bring it out in him in the most embarrassing way possible. 

“You had your fun,” Jisung mumbled, pulling your body from the man on the ground. “Now I'll have mine, and you're gonna stay there and watch.” 

Without a word of protest, the man pulled you to the small couch that was on the wall behind you, plopping into it. He watches you, eyes never leaving your body as you climb on top of him. You hadn't had sex in ages, the sheer anticipation of feeling him inside you sending you off your rocker. The location of the sinful act didn't even cross your mind, your place of employment now feeling like a second home in a way. 

Chenle almost immediately took his cock from his pants, pumping it to the sight of you on top of the other man, watching you grind and kiss him. He couldn't see your face, but he didn't need to, not when your ass was perfectly fine. His eyes traced the lines of your back, hand squeezing his shaft as he wished it was himself you were on top of. 

Jisung kisses you in the sloppiest way possible. Tongue and saliva everywhere, his hands all over your body. You put your hands on his shoulders, lips still locked to each other's as you feel his hands rubbing your thighs, snaking to your ass. His big hands squeeze you, pushing you on his hard cock for more stimulation. 

“I wanna sit on your cock,” you mumble on his lips, peppering kisses on his jawline. 

Jisung says nothing, just reaches down into his shorts, pulling out his rock hard cock. You straddled his lap, knees sinking into either side of him. The male underneath you, pulls your panties to the side, pressing his tip into you. From how much you struggled to get him into your mouth, you knew getting him inside you was going to be a challenge. 

“Fuck,” you sighed, brows knitting when you felt a slight stretch. 

“You can do it baby.” Jisung's breathe hitches the moment he feels your walls engulf his tip, squeezing around him him. It was taking everything in him not to just ram into you at the moment. His head falls back, your eyes still on his face. Chenle watched you, eyes burning into your back as he watched you grind on the man, taking in every inch of your body in. 

With every move you made, Chenle matched in his hands, stroking himself as you grind slowly, speeding up when you sped up. Your moans made him shiver, groaning softly as he squeezed himself in his palms. Chenle nearly came when you looked over your shoulder, staring right at him as you moved the scene feeling like it came right out a porno. 

Jisung held onto your hips, fingertips pressing into your sides tight. He couldn't stop thinking about how you probably dreamt of this moment, thought about fucking him all the time, riding him till you cried. He could tell by your face that you were completely lost in the movements. So wet, he could slip out of you at any time. “Fuck baby, you feel so good,” he groaned, brows furrowed. 

Jisung smirked, eyes looking over your shoulder to see the other man jerking himself at an embarrassingly fast pace watching you ride him. Jisung held your hips tight, taking in your whimpering as you began to move faster. “Fuck, so big,” you whine, holding his shoulders tight. Your body shivers in his hands, hot skin making his palms sweat.

The sounds from your lips almost sent Chenle into overdrive, your sweet soft voice crying out and begging for more making him harder and harder. Chenle shivered when his fingertips dragged over his sensitive tip, the action making his hips buck into his hand. All he could do was imagine it was your tight pussy around his throbbing cock, imagine you were riding the life out of him. Chenle watches the way Jisung digs his fingers into your flesh, drinking every indent the man makes in your skin. He just wants to touch you, fuck you, make you feel good, but you won't let him. He doesn't mind, at least you didn't smack him and kick him out. 

Jisung slides his hands to your ass, squeezing tight as he begins to groan softly. “Just like that baby girl,” he said, a raspy voice filling your ears. “You wanna cum on my cock?” 

“Y-yes..” A gasp flies out your lips when Jisung lifts  you off his lap, laying you down on the couch. The man threw your leg in the air, sitting it on his shoulder as he stuffed his cock back inside you. You could barely catch your breath when he began drilling into you, your moans turning into whines and cries of pleasure all while lying there staring at Chenle who was still watching in awe. 

Chenle pumped his cock faster, watching the way your chest rose as you breathed. Your face fell on the dirty fabric, eyes fluttering open to look directly into his. A smile pulled your lips as you reached your hand between your legs, rubbing your clit as you watched him. Seeing him absolutely lost in you, helpless and desperate, wanting to feel you and be inside you, made you feel powerful. Chenle's moans were music to your ears, Jisung's hands all over your body, your senses heightened. 

“Fuck..I'm gonna cum,” you moaned breathlessly. 

“Yeah,” Chenle, sucking in his breath fast when he started to feel himself getting close. You watched him watch you moan uncontrollably, your lust taking over your senses seeing how fucked out he already was with just his hand. 

“Chenle,” you whimper, making the boy's eyes go wide. “Chenle, I'm so fucking close.”

Jisung didn't bat an eyelash, smirking as he continued to fuck the life out of you. His lip slipped between his teeth watching you rub your sensitive clit faster, pounding into you harder. “That's my girl,” he grunted. “Keep playing with yourself, cum all over me.” 

Your fingers kept rubbing, eye contact never breaking with Chenle while Jisung kept going as if he wasn't even there. The teary look on your face sent the man into overdrive, just that one look making him spill out all over his hand with a loud moan. Chenle couldn’t bear to look away from you, so pretty and sweaty, eyes wet with lust and desire. He's pathetic and he knows it, but if it makes you happy he'll live with it.

Jisung's grip on your leg tightens, his climax closer and closer. You can recognize those moans and grunts from anywhere, knowing he was about to cum. 

“Cum Jisung, cum in me,” you whimpered, mascara covering your cheeks. “Shit, shit..” Your orgasm hit you like a car, your whimpers turning into loud cries, body jerking underneath the man on top of you. Jisung still continued to pound into you, practically fucking the breath out of your body. With every gasp that left your lips, he went harder. Your trembling hands reached up, grabbing at his chest as you whined loudly. 

“I'm almost there, baby girl..” you were so tight around him, he was surprised he could even move. Jisung pounded into you until he came deep inside you, holding his breath as he released inside of you. “Fuck,” he groaned. 

A calm silence fell over the room, nothing but breathing bouncing off the walls and into your ears. You're hot, sweaty and completely delirious to the events that have just taken place within the past 30 minutes. Having sex with your favorite voice actor in front of your hot perverted coworker was not in your plans for the night, but you definitely cannot complain. 

“I can cross that off my bucket list,” Jisung chuckled, breaking the silence. “Jesus, that was fucking crazy..” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. But that was the only thing you could say. You couldn't even look at Jisung, let alone Chenle who still sat on the floor in front of you two. That's when you and Jisung hear shuffling, turning your heads to look at the man standing up in a hurry, shoving his now flaccid cock back into his pants. 

“I-I uh… I have to go.” Chenle grabbed his things hastily, bolting for the door without sparing either of you a second glance. 

Before you protest, the door slams, leaving you and Jisung alone. You look up at the man, mouth open in shock. 

“Wasn't that fun,” he says, beaming a tired smile at you. Jisung pulls out, his cum slowly dripping out of you onto the black couch. 

“That was…something else.” You're still shell shocked, the events not yet setting in. Jisung shuffles from between your legs, fixing up his pants and clothes. That's when you notice just how naked you actually were. “Fuck,” you mumbled. 

Putting your clothes back on, your legs felt sore from holding them in position for too long. A small hiss left your lips, making Jisung chuckle softly. “I did a bit much, didn't I,” he questioned. 

“Nothing I didn't like.” 

You stand up, slipping your shoes on while he towers over you, watching you silently with a smirk on his face. “Give me your number.” 

Your eyebrows shoot to your forehead, somewhat confused and surprised at his request. “My number?”

“Did you think I was gonna fuck you and never speak to you again? Especially when you're such a devoted fan?”

There it goes, your stomach erupting into butterflies like earlier. “You always know the right things to say,” you laugh. You're trying to keep it together, but unfortunately you're easy to read. 

“So, can I have it?” He licks his lips, eyeing you down like he's going to devour you. 

You gulp, nodding at his request. 

“Good girl. I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yeah.” 

~

Walking into work the next day made your head rattle. All you could focus on were the sinful acts that took place behind that very counter your coworker Lily stood. You try to keep it normal, saying hi to everyone before walking into the back. 

Your body tenses when you see Chenle putting his things in his locker, the man turning around hearing your footsteps. You were expecting him to ice you out, but he gave you a small smile, nodding his head at you. 

“Hey,” he greeted, completely monotone. 

“Hey..” you put your things in your locker, gulping as he stood there, trying to not make it obvious that he was staring at you. But the awkward energy was eating away at your insides so you had to say something. “About yesterday I-”

“I'm sorry I stormed out. I was completely overwhelmed and embarrassed,” he interrupted. 

Your brows scrunch, head cocked to the side in confusion. “Embarrassed? Why were you-”

“I shouldn't have watched you like that. I'm sorry,” he admitted, avoiding eye contact. 

Your expression was blank, trying to compute his words. “Chenle, I don't care about any of that.” 

“Oh…”

“I wanted to tell you that yesterday was fun. I had fun and I hope you did too,” you said looking up at him sheepishly. “I hope this doesn't make things awkward between us.”

“I-it’s not awkward!” 

“Are you sure?? It seems awkward now,” you chuckle. 

Chenle takes a deep breath, before turning to you, his fingers toying with the sleeve of his jacket. “Listen, I really like you and yesterday was… an enigma. I want to get to know you on more of a personal note.” 

“Yesterday was personal.”

Chenle sighed, closing his eyes to try and rephrase his words. You stood there watching him struggle in amusement as he faced the ground. “Not personal in that way, personal in less of a coworker way,” he says. “A friendly way.” 

The reality of having options weighs on you all of sudden. You're very much attracted to both Jisung and Chenle. Chenle is cute, and wants to know you on more than a sexual level. Jisung has been your wet dream for years and seems like a pretty cool guy, not to mention the sexual chemistry with both of them is out of this world. There's no way they'd let you have your cake and eat it too. But you wouldn't know unless you try. 

You took a deep breath before speaking, biting your tongue as you stared at him through your lashes. “Jisung and I are hanging out later if you want to come,” you say quietly. 

“Oh,” he says. Chenle's mouth goes dry looking at your face. “I-I could hang out with you guys.” 

“Only if you want to,” you add. 

“I-I want to.” 

“Are you sure?” You sense a bit of doubt in his answer but that feeling immediately goes away when you watch his jaw clench and his eyes harden. 

He nods, his staring only intensifying as the clatter in the cafe plays in your ears as back noise. He wants you so badly at the moment, to just shove you in the lockers and show you a good time, but he won't and he can't, so for now all he can do is agree to hang out with you. 

“Then um.. I'll see you later.” Your body is hot as you scurry away from the man, his unintentional hungry gaze making you feel small, but you liked it. 

“Yeah, bye.” His words faded out as the door shut behind you, leaving him with nothing but his thoughts and his hard on. Chenle would never describe himself as a cuck but after the events that transpired the night before, watching the girl who isn't his girl but still his girl gets fucked by a handsome man wasn't all that bad. 

And he can't wait to do it again. 

[rubyreduji]

Work Husband — jww & kmg

summary: your two coworkers get a bit too involved in becoming your “work husband”

tags: fluff, office!au wc: 1.7k an: the struggle to not make this too plot driven and just silly fluff

“Y/N-ah!” You look up from your keyboard to see Jeon Wonwoo walking up to your desk. He has two to-go cups of coffee in his hand and a smile across his handsome face. “Good morning.”

“Good morning Woo.” You smile up at the man as he hands you one of the cups. “Oh, thank you. You know you don’t have to get me coffee each morning.”

“You’re right, I don’t, but I want to. You work so hard around here and help keep the morale up. The most I can do is treat you to your morning coffee,” Wonwoo tells you as he walks over to his own desk, which is located right across from yours.

“You take such good care of me Wonwoo-yah,” you coo. “You’re like my work husband.”

Wonwoo grins at this. “Does that make you my work wife?”

“Well I suppose so.”

You and Wonwoo have been desk neighbors for over two years now. Right away when you first met you guys hit it off. Conversation flowed naturally between you two and you found you had many things in common and shared similar beliefs. After a bit of time you two would text each other outside of work and would even meet up occasionally on weekends.

These days it's not uncommon for you and Wonwoo to bring each other things during the work day and share your lunch breaks together. When a project goes wrong Wonwoo is there to console you and you are there to hype up his ideas in meetings. Everyone in the office is aware of the bond you share with the man.

“Y/N,” comes a whine from your right. You look over to the side to see Kim Mingyu pouting at you.

Mingyu is one of the newer coworkers in the office. He’s been here for a few months now and occupies the other desk next to you. He’s eager to please and has lots of energy and optimism. It’s a good addition to your department.

One thing about Mingyu though, is that he got easily attached to you. You don’t mind, you didn’t even notice to begin with, but after Wonwoo pointed it out you did start to notice the way the younger man always seeks you out.

“Good morning Mingyu!” You smile at the tall male before taking a sip of the coffee. “Mmm, Wonwoo, this is lovely. Is this different from what you normally get me?” 

“It’s a new seasonal flavor. I was hoping that you would like it.”

“I do, a lot. Proving once again you know me well.” You and Wonwoo share a grin between you two. You make a mental note to treat him to lunch this week.

“Y/N,” Mingyu calls again. “Why can’t I be your work husband?”

“You’ve done nothing to deserve to be Y/N’s work husband,” Wonwoo responds for you. You giggle a bit. “Y/N deserves someone to treat her well. More than you can give.”

Despite you being able to get along with both men, they seem to despise one another.

“Hey! I could be an amazing work husband!” Mingyu declares. Wonwoo only harrumphs. “What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Wonwoo says, turning his attention to his computer.

Mingyu goes to protest but soon your supervisor walks up. “What’s going on here?”

“Good morning Seungcheol!” You shoot the man a bright smile. “I’m getting started on that report. It shouldn’t take me long so is there anything else you would need help with before I move onto my next project.”

As usual, you are perfect at getting the heat off of your bickering coworkers. Seungcheol smiles back down at you. “Ah, thank you Y/N. I think that I will be good right now, but if I think of something I’ll come to you.” With that Seungcheol walks off and you hum content.

“You’re so cool Y/N-ah,” Wonwoo says.

“I know, you tell me every time I do that.”

“Because who else in this office can derail Seungcheol’s wrath like that other than you. I’m a lucky man to have you as my work wife.” 

You chuckle at Wonwoo’s words, completely oblivious to the way Mingyu was still glaring at the older man.

“Y/N! Please come enjoy lunch with me today. My treat,” Mingyu offers a few days later.

“Sure! There is a great cafe a few blocks away, we should get sandwiches there,” you tell him.

“Sounds good to me!” Mingyu exclaims.

“Hey Y/N, ready for lunch?” Wonwoo walks up to you.

“Oh Wonwoo, hi! Mingyu and I were actually going to go get lunch together. Would you like to come with? I’m sure Mingyu doesn’t mind, do you?” You look between the two men.

Mingyu and Wonwoo stare at each other for a moment, a tension hanging in the room. Mingyu narrows his eyes at Wonwoo and Wonwoo just smirks back. It’s clear Mingyu isn’t going to win this time. “It’s not a problem Y/N. The more the merrier.” The worse are tense as they come out of Mingyu’s mouth, but you don’t seem to notice. 

You walk together with the two to the place Mingyu suggested, a man on either side of you. When you get to the cafe you order a drink and a sandwich and both boys jump to pay for your meal. You laugh at their antics.

“Though I’m perfectly capable of buying my own lunch, Mingyu did offer back at the office,” you tell them and you watch as Mingyu smirks at Wonwoo before swiping his card.

The rest of the lunch continues with small incidents in similar fashion. Wonwoo offering to grab you napkins, Mingyu throwing your trash away for you, Wonwoo helping you out of your chair, Mingyu almost shoving Wonwoo over to open the door for you. It’s strange behavior, but the two men have always behaved a bit competitively. 

When you get back to the office you diligently go back to work, all the while Mingyu and Wonwoo spend the rest of the day shooting dirty looks at each other behind your back.

After that day there’s a considerable change in the dynamic between you three. It seems like Mingyu and Wonwoo are always jumping on the chance to do something nice for you, while simultaneously growing more hostile towards the other.

You didn’t notice it at first, just subtle things, but then it progressed to the point that Wonwoo was bringing out flowers on Fridays and Mingyu was offering to rub your shoulders during a break that you decided that yes, something was up. You know both men are sweet and adore you, and you adore them, but you’re curious about their new behavior.

The three of you are hanging out together at a bar after work when you decide to finally bring it up. You’re not drunk but you’re just tipsy enough that your filter has loosened to allow you to confront the two men.

“So,” you start, “what’s been up with you two recently?”

They both shoot you a questioning look, like they have no clue what you’re talking about. You playfully roll your eyes at them. You know that plenty of things can fly over your head, but you’re not that stupid.

“Nothing,” Wonwoo finally responds. “Why do you ask?”

“You two have been fighting even more lately and you always have a smug look on your face, like you’re winning some secret bet.” The men shoot each other a look and at least have the decency to look semi-guilty. At last now you know you’re not absolutely crazy. “It has to do with me, doesn’t it? That’s why you two have been so sweet to me.”

“We’re always sweet to you,” Mingyu finally speaks up. 

“Yes, you are, but not this sweet. Like last week when you defended my proposal to Seungcheol even though all of us knew it wasn’t my best work. Or when Wonwoo got three papercuts just so he could staple all of my reports for me when I told him I would get around to doing it myself,” you explain. “Not that I mind all the help, but I want to know why.”

You stare at the two men, your eyes flitting between them, waiting for one of them to pipe up. You watch as their eyes search the other’s face, trying to gauge the other’s reaction to the situation. You sit patiently, allowing them to work it out between each other, before they both finally turn back to you.

“It’s not a bet,” Mingyu finally admits. “We have a sort of…competition going on.”

“Competition?”

“It was unspoken at first, we didn’t intend for it to escalate so far, but it did and we decided we didn’t want to stop,” Mingyu continues.

“A contention about what?”

“Who could be the better work husband,” Wonwoo explains. “We both wanted you to be our work wife, and so we both decided to vie for the position of your work husband.” 

You stare at them for a second, before breaking out into giggles. Mingyu groans and Wonwoo starts to look a bit sheepish. “No, don’t be embarrassed. That’s so cute!”

“It’s ridiculous,” Wonwoo mutters, “but we couldn’t help ourselves.”

“I mean, I did like all the attention, but I do have one more question. Why does it matter so much? Why is having me as your work wife so important?”

“Well…because we may also bothhaveacrushonyou,” Mingyu says, speeding up the second half of the sentence, but you still understand every word. Your eyebrows raise a bit in shock. 

“Oh!” Both of their faces are tinged pink, and it’s not just from the alcohol. You grin at them. “Well, I have a crush on both of you as well.”

Both of their jaws drop. You giggle at their shock. They quickly glance at each other before looking back at you. “Really?”

“Really! You two were just too cute doing nice things for me. I’d be lucky to have either of you as my work husband.”

“What about as your real boyfriend?” Wonwoo presses.

“Hmm, well I guess you’ll both have to compete for that spot too!” You smile once more, enjoying the way both boys quickly send a glare at each other. Oh, this should be fun.

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[thetarsier]

heyyy!! i hope you’re well!! i was hoping you could write a jealous!aaron x reader where she’s basically getting hit on while she’s at girls night and maybe penelope snaps a picture of her and the guy and sends it to the BAU gc and aaron basically drives over and suprises you because he was jealous

a/n: hi! thank you for the request, lovely, i was so excited to write this one :)

Word Count: 2k

Warnings/notes: drinking, asshole-type men (yes that's a warning)

<3: aaron hotchner x fem!reader, established relationship

Girls' night always - always - ended in one of your own getting hit on. Usually, it was JJ, but Emily fielded her fair share of creepy drunk men. Penelope tended to go after men herself, and you were the quiet one that laughed along with the others at the strange men eyeing them up. Rarely were you ever the target of their affections. 

It was something that the other girls constantly tried to change, with JJ repeatedly pointing you out to the men who came over to the table (which almost always ended in you ducking away to the bathroom until the guy got the hint). They didn’t know that you were more than content being an observer of their conversations, happy to celebrate the numbers Emily and Penelope received and laugh over the rejections of the men that came after JJ. 

They didn’t know, because they all still thought that you were single. You’d never told them otherwise, and that was mostly because of who you were currently dating: Aaron Hotchner, your boss. 

It was a connection that blossomed over the many years of you being at the BAU, not the same as some rushed, half-assed attempt to score during a night out. He loved you, and you loved him, and you were trying to take it slow out of the eyes of your coworkers. It’d worked for almost two years now with only a few minor slip-ups that were easy to explain away to the people who’d witnessed them. 

Not Rossi, however. Rossi had you two figured out almost as soon as you started to take things seriously, and now he acted as your protector. He changed subjects, scolded, and made those who questioned you or Aaron seem stupid. He was the perfect person to have as a secret keeper, mostly because he didn’t have it in him to care that much. 

And he’d done a beautiful job, too. It was a running joke on the BAU group chat that Penelope’s mission on your nights out was to find you someone to go home with. This was why, despite your usual invisibility, when a guy approached you at the bar, you were left alone with him, your girlfriends disappearing into the crowd around you. 

“-And so, yeah, I would say I’m self-made. I mean, my dad did lend me most of the money I used to actually start up, and all of my customers came from the family company, too, but I run the place, you know?” The guy interrupted his ramblings to take a sip from his beer, and you continued your nodding. 

You were used to listening to fast ramblings, thanks to Spencer, but usually his monologues were interesting, and you could follow them with relative fascination. This guy was just… awful. At storytelling, and being a good conversationalist in general.

“He hasn’t stopped talking this whole time,” JJ observed from their table, shaking her head, “Can’t imagine he’s particularly decent.”

“She hasn’t walked away, yet, though,” Emily shrugged, “Maybe he’s like Reid?”

“Does he look like Reid?” Penelope pulled her phone out of her bag, “Doesn’t matter. Mission half accomplished - everyone has to see this.”

She snapped a photo of the two of you, him leaning into you, you leaning onto the bar. From an outsider's perspective, with the angle that Penelope had taken the photo, it might have looked like you were enjoying his advances more than you actually were. You felt the vibration in your pocket as Penelope sent your photo to the group chat, but you didn’t look, too focussed on how you were going to get out of the man’s company without causing a scene to care about what your phone was doing.

“Oh, look,” Emily pointed to Penelope’s phone, “Morgan’s already responded-” She switched to a lower tone of voice as she read out the man’s text. “-Doesn’t count, Babygirl. Nobody’s gone home yet.”

“He’s right, you know,” JJ looked back at you and the man, “And I don’t think this is a match made in heaven.”

“I can’t keep losing this bet!” Penelope complained as she shoved her phone back in her bag and sat down, disheartened. 

“Ha!” Emily laughed, looking at her own phone, “Hotch has seen it.”

“Oh, that’s embarrassing,” JJ stifled her own laugh by taking a sip of her drink, “Delete it, Garcia. Her boss has seen that.”

“He’s seen it all - he’s in the group chat,” Penelope defended, “Maybe the embarrassment of her constant failure will lure her into a perfect match.”

“That makes sense,” Emily commented sarcastically, eyes roaming over the crowd. 

You laughed politely at the man’s joke before averting your eyes down to your lemonade. You weren’t supposed to be the designated driver - the four of you were meant to get a cab - but once you’d found out about Penelope’s plan, you’d switched to non-alcoholic drinks. 

It wasn’t that you didn’t trust yourself, but you studied serial killers and rapists for a living, and you knew that some men liked to take advantage. If you were drunk, you couldn’t defend yourself as well as if you were sober. Usually, it wasn’t an issue - you had your girls - but sometimes the anxiety was too much for you to enjoy a drink, and that anxiety only increased tenfold when you were left alone with a guy.

The man’s droning on was getting so tedious that when you looked over his shoulder and saw Aaron - neat suit and all - you thought you had imagined him. Then, when he started moving closer, you started to worry that he would get the wrong idea. 

But, he knew you, and you could tell by his caution that he was well aware of how you were feeling, tuned into your discomfort. Once you’d confirmed that your boyfriend was, in fact, in the same bar as you, you smiled and communicated with your eyes something that you hoped sounded like: ‘Get the hell over here right now.’

“Excuse me,” Aaron attached himself to your side, and you instantly felt safer, “What are we talking about over here?”

“Hey, back off, man,” The guy stood up straighter, and Aaron slipped an arm around your waist, “I’ve been talking to her all night.”

“Yes, and clearly it was riveting conversation,” Aaron eyed the many empty bottles surrounding the two of you and then your own singular glass of lemonade with disdain, “But it’s time to say goodnight.”

He didn’t even allow the man to say anything else, just used his grip on your waist to spin the two of you around and toward where he knew the girls were sitting. His arm left your waist once the two of you were no longer shielded by other people, and as you approached the tall table, sliding into the spare chair, you scowled at Penelope. 

“Next time you try to set me up against my will, at least make sure he’s not a jerk.” 

“Next time, my love.” She promised, placing a warm hand on your shoulder. 

Aaron stood to your right, in between you and JJ, and you gestured to him as you looked between your three friends, “Look at who had to come and save me,” You feigned annoyance, and acted as though you were secretly telling the girls of your embarrassment, “How did you even know we were here?”

“Oh, my God. He saw the photo.” Penelope gasped.

“The what?”

“Garcia put a photo of you and the guy on the group chat to try and prove that she’d succeeded in her mission,” JJ admitted, amusement swimming in her blue eyes as she looked between you and Aaron. 

“Oh, you’re asking for an HR case,” You pointed a finger at the flamboyant blonde, who smiled sweetly at you, tucking her hands underneath her chin, “You sent a picture of me at a bar to all of my colleagues?”

“If it makes you feel any better, Morgan said it doesn’t count.”

“Oh, great, so you sent my picture to my colleagues, and it didn’t even count.” You were only joking with them, and each of them was well aware of that fact. 

“Still,” Emily turned her attention back to Aaron, “Why are you here?”

You also turned to look back at him as he rubbed the back of his neck. He clearly hadn’t thought much past the initial urge to save you from your misery, and you were sure that not even Rossi could’ve lied your way out of the situation. 

“Um…” He narrowed his eyes, brain working overtime for something believable, “I was here already for, the, uh…” 

His eyes darted down to yours in desperation. You laughed at him, leaning your head back onto his shoulder and reaching your hand down to grab at his. The secrecy was on your account, as most things in your relationship were; not only because he was technically your boss, but also because he was head-over-heels obsessed with you. It was created on your account, and you would be the one to break it. 

“Okay, guys, there’s a reason why I never go home with anyone from the bar…” You grinned, peeking up at Aaron from where the back of your head rested just below his chin before you looked back at the girls. 

Penelope was shocked into silence, her mouth wide open, hands stuck out by her sides, JJ was sporting a happy smile of her own, and Emily had a hand over her mouth, eyes blown with shock. After a few seconds of silence, where Aaron squeezed your hand to soothe both of your nerves, the group sprung into action. 

“Oh, my God!” Emily chuckled, “I knew there was something going on. I knew it!” 

“Oh, this is… This is…” Penelope waved her hands around. 

“Wonderful,” JJ finished, reaching over to touch your other hand that rested on the table, “And congratulations - you had everyone fooled.”

“It’s been hard,” You conceded, “Sometimes during hard cases, it was slightly too hard, but we’ve gotten through it.”

“Oh, you guys,” Penelope tilted her head to the side, “You’re too adorable.”

“And on that note,” You smiled, picking up your purse, “I think we should probably go.”

You said your goodbyes, and Aaron managed to get out his own through his uncharacteristic blushes and stutters, and you made your way out to Aaron’s car, hand in hand. 

“Why did you come?” You asked him out of curiosity once he’d climbed into his side of the car.

“Honest answer?” He raised an eyebrow and you nodded, turning your body towards his, “Really, I saw that photo of you with the guy, and I didn’t even think about it. I just got in the car.”

“Oh, you were jealous,” You teased, poking his arm gently, “It’s okay, Hotchner, I’m all yours, anyway.”

“Good,” He leaned over the centre console, fingers gripping your chin and encouraging your face closer to his, “Because I’m all yours.” 

Each of his kisses was a seal to his promise.

It was only in the morning, when you finally checked your phone after a night with Aaron, that you realised another photo had been snapped of you. One of you and Aaron walking out of the bar holding hands. Penelope had sent it to the group chat with the message ‘Mission finally successful.’ 

The group chat had barely shut up since, question after question rolling into your inbox.  

You groaned, falling back into your pillow, where Aaron kissed a path from the tip of your middle finger to your cheek, smiling against your skin. 

“If it makes you feel any better, Dave will stop bothering us about telling the truth now,” He mumbled into your neck, and you sighed, a smile on your face as you played with his hair. 

“Very true, Hotchner. Just remember: it was your jealousy that got us into this mess, so you’re dealing with the questions we’re going to get.”

He laughed into your skin, an agreement.

[kuroppiii]

     day by day ᵕ̈           husband!timeskip!kuroo tetsurō x gn reader ˎˊ˗

⋮⋮ ˒ ₍ᐢ..ᐢ₎ 𖥻 ⿻ : little moments from your ⋮⋮  daily life with your silly little husband

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🧸 directory  ‹ ✩  like what you read ? check out more of my blog !  •ᴗ•

💬 kuroppiii ─ “ this is like word vomit but pleaseee he plagues my mind , i ' m clawing at the walls of my enclosure ( not proofread !! ) ”

um yeah so congrats to timeskip!kuroo for being able to live his best life

an even greater life with you in it, of course

because although he swaggers along in his little suit and tie handing out his card willy-nilly to god knows who all day,,,

you bet your sweet ass he’s got a picture of you in his wallet

and that wallet is constantly getting whipped out around the office as he looks at your smiling face

looking longingly and with a little lovestruck sigh

(he’s so dramatic)

he has your drink order on lock and will pick it up coming back from work

but he is the type to take a “sip” out of your cup in exchange

(half your drink’s gone after that 🙁)

he “needs help” tying his tie like every other morning

“y/n love of my life can you help me with this”

it was cute

like the first couple times

maybe not so much at the twentieth time

at this point you just tell him to do it himself so you don’t have to get out of your bed bc you know what he’s trying to do

"have you ever considered trying a clip-on tie, tetsu?"

but granted, whenever you do cave, it’s impossible to miss in the corner of your eye the way his eyes are filled with pure unadulterated admiration as he watches you tie the stupid tie

(it was never about the tie)

(he just needs to look at you before he has to go the work where he can’t look at you like this until he comes home later that night)

and sometimes when he gets home he really tries to take up making dinner some nights to give you a break

he even wears a little apron (your apron) over the wife pleaser and boxers he’s so accustomed to changing into upon arriving home

(really not necessary but you two watched the bear together one night and he’s really just trying to get into it with the apron)

he looks ridiculous but you hate to admit you find it so adorable

"can someone get me a fucking sharpie, that fucking works!!!"

"i'm sorry for cursing at you babe, i don't even need a sharpie, i was just saying the thing from the thing–"

the best he can do is like cold noodles or the occasional steak dinner which really aren’t that bad when those are on the dinner menu!!!

when it comes to everything else? well... yeah he’s better off without the apron

but make him lunch for the office? oh he’ll propose to you a second time right then and there next to your fridge

put the cute character cutouts in there too, as if he cares what his coworkers might say bc anything you touch is gold to him no matter what

“ok but where are your guys’ carrot flowers, huh? don’t eat your veggies? have you ever considered that what you should actually be concerned about, is that you’re not eating as balanced of meals as i am every day?”

part of me wants to say when all is said and done, you two share a bottle of wine or smth under the night sky together to wind down

but honestly i don’t think a moment with this man necessarily calls for being a little buzzed like that

he makes you laugh simply by how he talks about his day, and with his little comments and reactions to whatever you may tell him about yours

"some people may wonder how he got demoted from a coordinator position–but y/n, honey, if you saw the way he parallel parks on the street outside our office, you would agree he's very much lacking in the skill of coordination."

"wow, i can't believe she treated you that way. and you're sure she knows the 'h' in 'hr' stands for 'human', right? because she sure isn't acting like a good one."

"😧 ..."

it’s like your home becomes your own personal comedy-club to round off yet another day with the love of your life

with the sounds of both of your laughter mingling together in a solemn late-night harmony only ever truly appreciated by the both of you

and when you two finally head to bed

his arm can’t help but snake its way around your waist

"g'night my love..."

pulling you close and breathing in your scent as you both get lulled away into a deep sleep

all to repeat everything again the next morning <3

[puripurin]

[50, 100, 150, 250 and 350 follower special] [Yan! Omega x Male Reader x Yan! Bunny Hybrid]

— You coughed as you suddenly breathed in only to realize two large purple eyes were staring at you. They blinked two times before they were pulled away harshly.

"Move it you whore. Just because we made an agreement to share him doesn't mean I'll just let you infect him with your stripper mindset." The person with bunny ears degraded the man with a harsh tone. However, the crude remarks only made him burst into laughter.

"How about you stop coming at me when you look like some of my coworkers with that skin-tight body suit?" He mocked the bunny hybrid, who put his middle finger in his face.

"At least I don't go around shoving my dick into other people other than (Y/n). Sometimes I can't believe I have to work with a bitch like you!" The bunny hybrid scowled at the other person. You raised your eyebrow at the two's arguments.

"Right... so what the fuck is going on?" You stopped their glaring at one another by making them shift their focus on you. Almost immediately, they came super close to you. The bunny hybrid slapped his hand on the other person's mouth before speaking up.

"The name's Clear Blackwell! I'm non-binary, so use he/ they pronouns." They winked and blew a kiss before swiftly pulling their hand away and glaring at the man who bit his hand.

"I'm Cecil, and the reason you're here is that you need to be taught a lesson on why you shouldn't break the rules." He kissed you on the nose before moving back a bit to cross his arms with a glare on his face.

"What were the rules?" You questioned, not recalling being given any rules. "No talking to anyone outside of work colleagues for work-related things, friends, family or people in the service industry. No watching porn. No seeking dates with anyone and so on and so forth. We tried our best to make it lenient, but you broke Every. Single. Rule." Cecil shook his head in disappointment. Oh, they were probably the ones you kept receiving in the mailbox of your apartment complex that they wrote with blood. Obviously, you didn't follow it and threw it away. You were going to say something but Clear started to speak.

"Sigh, this is one of the few times I have to agree with this whore. You have been out and about prancing around, flaunting yourself to anyone who wants to see it. Ugh... do you know how many times I had to call up my bodyguards to kill all of those cunts who dared to indulge themselves in your desires?" Clear's eyes twitched as they seethed in anger and frustration. You looked at them with a blank stare before realizing what they meant.

"YOU KILLED MY DATES!?!?" You shrieked in horror. It was no wonder why not a single one of your dates messaged you back for a second date. You tried moving away from them, but Clear slammed his hands on the chair handles to stop you from moving.

"And don't play as if you're scared. I don't like it when someone that belongs to me pretends to be all innocent whilst whoring themselves out." Clear inhaled and exhaled to calm themself down and moved away from you. Cecil patted Clear on the back in comfort before moving towards you.

"Your punishment is going to be rough. Although we wanted our first time having sex with you to be gentle, unfortunately, you couldn't keep yourself in check, so it has come down to this." Cecil sighs and takes off his collar before putting it on you. He stops at a point before pulling it so tight you start to choke.

"Now let's see if you're going to disobey the rules after this." He relaxed the tightness of the collar before pulling you into a rough kiss.

"I- I'm sho sorry f- for breaking the rulesss!" You sobbed from the pain. Almost everywhere on your body was hot with pain. Your mouth and throat were in pain even though Cecil and Clear had innocent-looking faces, their sizes were no joke. Clear kissed your swollen and bleeding lips in contentment.

"F-fuck... Clear, do you think he's learnt his lesson?" Cecil moaned as he slammed back into you, making you shudder and moan from the roughness. His face was flushed as he watched both of you make out.

"A-ah haa... Yeah... He looks so docile now, with his lips all messed up and his body covered in lovebites. Shit, this makes me want to mess him up even more... but I think he's starting to reach his limits." Clear rubs his thumb on your cheek, which nearly makes you close your eyes if you weren't getting fucked by Cecil. Cecil nods before thrusting back into you a few more times before he came inside.

"Damn... You're better than any of my clients." He kissed your cheek before rolling his eyes and kissing Clear on their lips after they motioned for a kiss. "Right, time to clean up. I'll get the towels and water." Cecil got up and brought back some towels and a few bottles of water.

Cecil cleaned up both you and Clear so fast but was pretty gentle about it before cleaning himself up. You fell asleep from exhaustion and snuggled up into a pillow at first, but Clear switched out the pillow for you to hug them instead. Clear watched as Cecil wiped off his body before speaking up.

"You're so much nicer when you aren't spouting a bunch of bullshit, you know?"

"How about you shut the fuck up before I fuck that brattiness out of you."

Yall thought you were gonna get a full-length smut? Guess what, you got bamboozled. Sorry if their personalities switch up like crazy, yall have no ideas how hard it is to write this shit down before valentine's day so you have time to write a val. special.

Anyways, for those of you who don't know, Cecil and Clear are the very first ocs I wrote about to publish on here and I appreciate all of the people who scrolled through my blog to read everything like thirsty dogs. Thank you.

Also i squizshed every follower milestone to one poast is because realistically, i aint gon an write all of that but I might reblog later to write out the full smut. Ah, almost forgot, if Clear's intro is bad here IM SORRY CUS LIKE IDK HOW YOU DO THIS WITH CONFISENCE OMG IF YALL ASK ME TO CHANGE IT ILL CHANGE IT CUS ITS BADDD 😭😭😭😭 Also Cecil not saying his last name intentional.

Once again, without the jokes or spelling errors, I'm actually grateful that yall actually comment, like and follow my writing. So I might go back on my old quotev ACC to rewrite and finish the story that I posted before. Any questions that you all might have, I'll answer in the comments. Also yes, I will write pt2 for cute! Monster's father.

(noto prooftred)

[oracle-of-dream]

hi can you do a xiaojun x male reader smut?

I totally can, I've already been trying to write something for him so I'll put it here! It's gonna be in parts so hang tight <3

Never Really Alone

Minors DNI

Summary: A feeling, at the corner of your mind. Always with you–even when you know you're alone. Someone's watching you, following you, getting closer...

Warnings: Male Reader, Stalking, Thunderstorms, Psychological terror, Fear of darkness

Wordcount: 1.5k

As your eyes opened, dark circles under them, you felt it again. The same feeling you've been experiencing for the last few weeks. It feels like you're never truly alone–someone you can't see is always with you. At first, you believed it was just the feeling of settling into your new apartment. You moved in about a month ago, but the feeling followed you outside your apartment.

At Work. The Cafe. Walking down streets. Everywhere you went.

It was to the point that you couldn't stop looking over your shoulder, even in broad daylight. You'd bought a taser, keeping it with you always even when you went to bed. The extra security still never was enough to make you feel safe enough.

You didn't have anyone to talk to about it. You'd just moved because you started a new job, if you told any of your coworkers they'd think you're crazy. Calling your parents was out of the question, they'd see it as a reason to bring you back home. You even thought about seeing a therapist. You could only text your friends from back home, they made you feel heard but couldn't do anything to help you. You were alone.

Work was the only time that you felt okay. You were surrounded by people who were at least semi-familiar, and it made you feel comfortable. But one night, after a long day of work, there was chatter about a get-together of all your coworkers.

"Y/n, you'll come, right?" Your team lead asked.

"No, I'm sorry, not tonight. I... have to look after my cousin tonight," You lied.

Your coworkers didn't press you for more as they left to enjoy each other's company, leaving you alone again. Almost alone. The feeling returned as you walked out of the work building, rushing to get home. The clouds were dark, thunder sounded in the distance, and rain was coming. You liked the rain, the soft sound of rain distracted you from feeling watched. It sometimes even made you smile, having something else to be focused on for a change.

As you got to your apartment, hustling up the stairs, a man stood outside your door. It was your landlord, Xiaojun. He was a thinner man, with black hair, always having a tired look in his eyes–like he never slept, draped in a black sweater you had always seen him in. He was standing outside your door, holding a bundle of mail.

"Hi, y/n," His voice was deep and soothing. "I noticed you hadn't picked up your mail in a while, so I wanted to drop it off."

"Thank you, that's so nice." You put on a smile as you took the mail from him.

"Have a good night, watch out for the storm. I've heard some people have had outages. Call me if anything happens," Xiaojun said as he walked down the hallway before descending the stairs.

You entered your apartment and closed the door, sighing in relief. Xiaojun was a nice man, and you felt safe around him. He offered your apartment to you at a discounted rate, after mentioning how expensive all the others were. He always went out of his way to make you feel comfortable. He also looked pretty handsome when he wasn't super tired.

You put the mail on the counter and then realized–the feeling was gone. You didn't feel like you were being watched... The urge to break down and cry was too powerful as you sobbed silently. Your chest had a weight lifted off of it. But your celebration was short-lived. As soon as you started changing out of your work clothes, you felt a sharp coldness run up your back. It was back. Now you wanted to cry for different reasons.

You took your taser out of your bag and took it with you as you swept through your apartment, just like every day, checking your home. But, just like always, you never found anyone.

You returned to your mail and started to sort it right as your lights went out. Xiaojun mentioned power outages so this is probably it. The storm must've knocked it right out. You stumbled through the darkness that invited itself into your home until you found your phone–Xiaojun asked you to call him if anything happened so he must have a way to fix it...

The phone rang as you waited for him to pick up, the sound of the rain getting louder and less friendly.

"Hello?" Xiaojun's voice came out of your phone.

"Hi Xiaojun, it's y/n, we just spoke?"

"Of course, I know who you are, silly. Can I help you with something?"

"Yeah, you told me to call if my power went out. Is there anything you can do about this?"

Xiaojun was silent for a moment. "I can get a flashlight, and bring it to you if you don't have one. I'll also check your power box, in your laundry room, to see if the circuit tripped."

"I'd appreciate it." You hung up the phone and waited by the door for Xiaojun to arrive. You opened it cautiously as you heard the knock, your camera for the front door was also not working so you couldn't see who it was unless you opened it. A flashing beam of light hit your eyes as they tried to adjust.

"Sorry about that, y/n. I didn't mean to shine you like that." Xiaojun's voice rumbled dryly. You blinked a few times, waiting for the dazzling sensation to fade.

"It's alright, come in," You mumbled as you rubbed your eyes. You felt Xiaojun's arms hold you as he shifted past you, pushing the door with his broad shoulder. You shut the door and followed him as he navigated your apartment, using the flashlight to light the way.

"You live here alone, right?" Xiaojun asked, trying to make conversation.

"Yes, that's right."

"What about your parents?"

"They're far away... I moved out here for a job opportunity, but I'm still trying to see if it was all worth it." You shivered, "What about you?"

"My father passed away, leaving the building for me to rent out."

Xiaojun got to the breaker box and opened it. "Hold this for me?" He handed you the flashlight so he could use both hands to work. You didn't know much about what was happening as he fiddled with wires. "Got a girlfriend?"

"Not really my type."

"Boyfriend?"

"No, I don't have anyone in my life like that..." You sighed.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to–I was just wondering." Xiaojun tried to change the subject, "So how do you like the apartment?"

"It's nice. Cozy."

"Really? No issues, at all? You're the only tenant who doesn't complain about something in their apartment."

"Well..." You hesitated, thinking about the feeling. This was your chance to talk about it. For someone to finally understand. "There's been this... one thing."

"Oh?" Xiaojun said without looking at you.

Your jaw tightened. "I've been having a weird feeling since I moved in. Like I've been followed. It started in the apartment, then went outside. I only don't notice it when I'm at work..."

"That's strange. I haven't heard anything on the news or something. You should be careful, is there any other time you feel okay?"

You blushed at the answer, "Well, I don't feel it now."

"Now?"

"I think it's because you're here?"

"So I'm making you feel safe?" Xiaojun chuckled. "That's so cute. I'll keep you safe, anytime." Xiaojun smiled, trying to focus but couldn't stop thinking about you. He sucked his teeth in frustration. "I think I need to grab a tool, can you hold this in place? It's gotta stay like this for me to fix it." You nodded as Xiaojun guided your hand over his, pressing down on a bundle of wires. "Okay, I'll be right back, so stay put." Xiaojun hopped to his feet, taking the flashlight with him as he left you in the dark. The second you couldn't hear his footsteps anymore, your chest started filling with anxiety. You felt incredibly vulnerable, and you'd left your taser in the kitchen–not wanting to scare your landlord with it. Your breathing got heavier, shadows danced in your vision, and your hands shook as they were glued to the wires.

Then you felt it. The feeling, creeping up your back, was the most intense you'd ever felt. You couldn't hear or see anything, but every hair on your body stood on end.

"W-who's there!?" You shouted into the darkness.

The darkness responded with nothing but dead silence.

You could run to the kitchen, grab your taser, and hide somewhere. But what if you attack Xiaojun by mistake? You needed something, anything. Your mind raced, but even in your panic, you could hear something. Someone breathing. They were excited, ready for you to fight back. You felt more helpless than before. You were doomed from the start. They stepped into the laundry room, finally making a singular footstep.

You stood, trying to see who it was, but only saw a shadow. There was sudden pain, and then darkness.

You were knocked out cold...

To continue, click here!

[justanamesstuff]

The intimacy of being understood

Chapter 1

Matty Healy x f!reader

A/N: I'm so excited and SO terrified about posting this fic. I've fallen for this concept since the first moment I thought about it, I've been having so many feelings writing this sooooo I really hope you guys like it! Let me know what you think, feedback is ALWAYS welcomed!! Happy reading, guys :))

Warnings: breakups, fame, hurt feelings, typos.

Word count: 2 k

Blog Masterlist Series Masterlist

After a quick lunch, eaten at the back surrounded by boxes full of books ready to be sorted out, Kate stumbled in. She was Y/n's friend since kindergarten: one day she pushed some kid –Y/n didn’t remember him– who made her cried and Kate pushed him out of a little chair. Small Kate turned around, offering her tiny hand, and Y/n stopped crying. Nothing came between them since, maintaining a very strong friendship. 

Kate didn’t work at the bookshop with Y/n, she didn’t have the money to pay someone else to help her. She did good money enough to maintain the place and rent a small flat not far away from the shop. Even though, Kate constantly showed up wanting to spend time with her, sharing the latest gossip of her office or ramble about one of her ex-girlfriends she bumped into while helping her with the books.

“She looked amazing- Holly fuck!” Kate’s tone drifted from a normal one to a gasped whisper, interrupting herself. 

Y/n looked firstly to the front door, leaving the spreadsheet on the counter; checking if someone was happening outside. She couldn’t see anything through the window. 

She decided to ask Kate, “What?” 

“Look.” it was very rare hearing Kate whisper, she was all out, a true extrovert. Her friend’s finger pointed to the other side from the door.

Y/n turned her head, still hearing the sound of the angel caller she hanged in the entrance as a bell for when a new customer entered the shop. Her eyes finally fell on a very familiar man. 

“I’m looking, but I don’t see anything weird.” Y/n copied her tone, looking how Matty roamed through the different categories. She felt strange about him not greeting her as usual. Y/n reassured herself, ‘it must be a reason’. Her eyer returned to Kate.

“Shhh.” Kate startled her best friend with the sound when nothing really happened. Y/n glanced at her as if a new eye showed up in the middle of her forehead. 

“What’s wrong with you today?” Y/n inquired. “Sorry, but I’m not following you.” she sentenced.

Kate checked Matty was turned to point a finger in his direction. “That one…” she turned her head like a mad woman. “That’s Matty Healy!” Y/n’s friend said with a hissing voice.

Y/n was so confused, “Do you know him?” maybe he was a coworker, that happened many times before. 

“Oh my god!” Kate let his arm fell, rubbing her face dramatically. “I forget how out of this world you are.” she glanced towards the floor as if she was trying to look for answers.

“Still not having a clue over this.” Y/n let eyes returned to the paper work she needed to get done.

“Matty Healy doesn’t ring a bell inside this mind of yours?” Kate tapped her left temple. 

Y/n brushed her off, trying to think about it, even when the full name didn’t bring a bell. 

“Name plus surname no. Matty comes here all the time.” she said, shrugging her shoulders.

Kate stared, trying to decide if she was messing with her or not. “You’re full of shit.”

“No, I’m not. He’s really nice.” Y/n turned the page, writing numbers here and there. 

Matty was indeed a very regular, he had been for more than a month by that moment. Y/n fell quickly into conversations with him when he dropped by. She didn’t give the casual friendship too much thought until that moment.

“Oh, really?” Kate folded her arms, smirking with Y/n’s words. “How nice?”

Y/n couldn’t believe what she was implying, so her sight flew to her friend's face, being the one to search signals that told her she was kidding. Kate wasn’t, she really wanted to know.

“No like that!” the bookshop owner moved forward and beyond Kate’s body to check he wasn’t hearing their conversation. Y/n sighed loud watching him so far from them. 

“Mmm…don’t believe you.” Kate kept pushing her to talk, only gaining a red tint showing on Y/n’s cheeks.

“He started coming here like a few months ago. He looked stressed as fuck…he excused himself saying someone was following him, I’d thought he was talking about a mugger not- whatever he has…fans? I don’t even know.“ Y/n explained.

Kate nodded. “Crazy fans.”

“Well, he stayed a lot over the back of the shop and after- I don’t remember how long… he came back carrying a children's book. I think it was ‘The very hungry caterpillar’, and I got excited over it.” Y/n tried to avoid her friend’s eyes at all cost.

“Of course…” Kate’s voice full of irony. 

“He was buying it for his godson and since then he started showing up here and there…he never explained what he does for a living, I don’t even care.” Y/n admitted.

Kate let her hands fell on top of her chest. “Such a cute story”

“I can’t believe he’s famous.” 

“Yeah, you live under a rock.”

“No, I live inside the real world.”

“Liar.” Kate accused her. “You have your nose inside a book every time I open that door.” she pointed to the front door. 

Y/n gasped and turned, saying, “Aren’t you supposed to help me arrange the new saga?” 

Kate groaned loud. Y/n felt Matty looking their way, but didn’t dare to make eye contact. 

“Why I offered my free time again?” her friend asked.

“You own me! Remember how I had to pick your ass at 4 am at that Soho party you chose to tried to get in and got kicked out?” Y/n felt good teasing her back for once. 

“Thanks for reminding me that.” Kate eyes’ returned to Matty, who moved to sit at the big sofas adoring the centre of the shop. “I’ll go to the back. Shout when he comes over here.” she begged.

Y/n boobed her head up and down in a dramatic way, pursing her lips at the same time. 

“Mhm, definitely going to do that. Be sure I’ll do exactly that.” Y/n spoke to Kate’s back walking away. 

“I need to see if he’s really handsome indeed.” she whispered from the door leading to the storage room. 

“He is.” Y/n added just to mock her.

“Agh, you’re so mean!”

“Work, now!”

Y/n waited until Grace was far away to focus on Matty. He was still sitting on the sofa, now with a book on his lap but looking at the ceiling. She decided it was a good moment to approach him.

“Hey.” 

Matty got startled a little, too deep into his thoughts to acknowledge the sound of her feet approaching him.

“Sorry, didn’t mean to…” Y/n felt sorry to scare him.

A big smile showed up in his face, changing all his demeanour. “Hey there. Don’t worry.”

“I couldn’t stop to notice- I mean, maybe you want a moment of quiet, and I’m disturbing you but…sorry.” Y/n grew self-conscious under his attentive eyes. “What I’m trying to ask is, are you alright?” 

Matty felt his heart skip a bit, “You’re the first person to ask me today.”

Y/n frowned, checking her clock. “It’s 3 pm.” she stated.

“I know.”

“So I assume this is not your best day.”

“Not at all.” he said, still smiling, contradicting his own words somehow.

 Y/n decided to change the subject.“What book you chose?” she pointed to the book resting unread. 

“Everything quiet at the front.” Matty read the title. 

“Uplifting I see..” she joked, and Matty laughed. The sound reached her ears and warmed her heart. 

“‘m sorry I didn’t say hello earlier.” Matty apologized. “Didn’t want to interrupt your conversation with the other girl.” his hand pointed towards the front desk.

“She’s my best friend and personal nightmare…Kate.” 

“Where’s she now?”

“At the back, she owns me a few favors so…”

“Mhm.”

“Well, I’m going to stop bothering-“ Y/n started excusing herself.

Matty interrupted, clarifying, “You never bother me, Y/n.” Her name coming from his lips felt different. 

“Good to know.” her cheeks were burning. Y/n turned around towards her desk but desist in the middle of the action. “Can I suggest you changing the book?” she asked, looking inside her tired eyes.

Matty gave her a signal, adding, “Which one you say is better?” 

“It’s a play in fact…’The Seagull’ by Chéjov. It’s also sad but easier to read, I think.” 

“Interesting.” Y/n felt maybe she should’ve kept her mouth shut. “I have to go now, sadly, but I’ll be back soon to read it.” Matty told her.

“I can pack it for you. Have one over he-“ Y/n’s mood lifted a little with the last part, proposing packeting it for him, although she interrupted her again. 

“No, I prefer reading it here the next time I come.” 

“Okay, suit yourself, Matty.” Y/n looked down, not really knowing what to do now. 

“I’ll see you soon, thanks. Say hi to Kate for me.” Matty scratched the back of his head. 

“Oh, that nice…for sure, I’m going to retransmit that.”

“Bye.” Matty lift his hand, waving at her from a few meters far from her.

Y/n followed his form, walked towards the door, and once outside get lost between the people coming and going. 

Kate showed up from behind the storage door, smiling wide at her friend. 

“If I wasn’t so stoked about one of my favourite singer of all times knowing… remotely… who I am, I’ll say that man is sad but down bad for the library girl.” she wiggled her eyebrows. 

“Stop bluffing and celebrate a little.” Y/n tried to distract Kate. 

“Y/n…”

“I don’t want to hear it!”

They had that conversations for months, almost a fucking year, and Y/n knew it as if was a play she wrote. Kate would insist about her dating again, she would say she’s not ready –which was the truth– and her best friend would be sympathetic about it even though she would keep insisting. 

“I saw pictures of that man in love…I know, a bit, how he is.” Kate tried to persuade Y/n. 

“Kate, you really don’t know him. I don’t know him far from Matty, the guy that comes here from time to time.”

“Do you want to know more about him?” she took her phone out.

“No.I don’t. I respect his privacy.” Y/n was pushing her away, closing herself. Both friends knew that. 

“You can’t wound me with this.”

“Fine.”

“Come on! Forget he's fucking famous…he's fucking hot, and he wants you-“ 

Y/n closed her eyes tight, “You don’t-“

“He does. I feel it.”

“Why you have to sexualize this?”

“Because it what he exudes, my love.” Kate placed herself at the other side of the front desk, where Y/n was trying to look busy with books and papers. 

“I don’t want to hear anything else, okay?” Y/n stared at her eyes briefly. 

“Y/n…I know that what you’ve been through is a lot to recover your heart from, but you know he’d want-“ the mention of his wishes angered Y/n, who pushed a book down with too much force. 

“No, I don’t. He never spoked about it because we were meant to spend the rest of our lives together, and then…” Y/n felt tears pooling in the corner of her eyes.

“Oh, my love…” Kate ran around the counter. “Come here.” she hugged her friend. “I’m here, I’m here. I’m sorry.”

“I can’t do it.” Y/n said into her shoulder.

“Okay, okay. I understand. I’m so sorry.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Mmm…it’s never too soon to have a new, famous and hot friend.” Kate tried to lift her mood.

Y/n snorted, “He’s hot.” there was no reason to deny it. 

“Right?! That’s a start! Baby steps…come on, girl! You can do this.” Kate took Y/n’s face between her hands, staring into her red eyes.

“Let’s get back to work, please.”

“Would you take me as an employee if I quit my job?”

Y/n titled her head, “You love your job.”

“But I’d love to see Matty's butt flying around.” 

“Could you stop sexualizing my customers, please?”

“No when they’re Matty fucking Healy!” she shouted while returning to the back.

*****************

Taglist (let me know if you want to be included): @indierockgirrl

[bygiornogiovanna]

Back to what we were

a small yandere! giorno one shot because I love this man so much

actually, it isn't small at all oopsie. I got carried away.

warnings: implied yandere themes, implied stalking, giorno still considers you are together, manipulating

also, i don't know if my previous post was seen, but my requests have been opened again. send me your ideas!

Everything went quiet.

The chatter stopped the moment he opened the door.

You felt your knees getting weak when you saw his tall figure. It felt like time stopped the second he stepped inside the room.

With his blonde locks resting gracefully on his shoulders and his head held high, he exuded a superior air. The power he gave off was intoxicating.

His presence was overwhelming.

Every pair of eyes was laid on the influential man walking across the room. Even you couldn't break away from his spell over the public.

You, who weren't supposed to be there.

Actually, he wasn't supposed to be there. Because you worked there and he didn't.

You and Giorno broke things off a long time ago. At least, that's what it felt like.

In reality, only a few months passed. And, during those months, you couldn't say you were the happiest without him. You missed him much, but your pride kept you from returning to him. Especially since you were the one that broke the relationship.

Your gaze dropped as soon as he stared around the meeting room as if searching for something. His vigilant eyes quickly caught your figure, but he kept up the show.

"Is L/N Y/N here?" His voice rang through the room, pretending to not know exactly where you were, hiding behind your documents.

Your best friend leaned to you, his gaze moving between you and the blonde. He whispered- "Why is our new boss searching for you?"

Wait what? New boss? How?

Even though that would explain what he was doing here.

"New boss?" you whispered back, almost inaudible. Your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest that you were afraid it would get out.

"Yeah, how didn't you know? Mr. Giovanna became our boss a few weeks ago. It's said he bought the company from Diavolo." Before your friend could say anything else, Giorno's suave voice was heard again.

"I'm not aware of how the last boss let you treat him, but when I ask something, I expect answers. Immediately. I also hate repeating myself."

You rolled your eyes at his remark, but you remained quiet. You didn't want to speak with him. You preferred him being mad at everyone in the room, rather than seeing him for the first time in so long.

However, your plans were ruined by one of your coworkers, who almost yelled - "Yes, they're right there!" while pointing to you. You shot a deadly glare across the room, from where your coworker sat.

"Y/N, stand up, please. I can't see you." Giorno said, but the words sounded more like an order. Not wanting to make a scene, you sighed deeply and got up from your seat. "Good. Thank you for telling me, miss Hannah. You, come with me."

You shot another glare in Hannah's direction and got your things. "I'll be back." you murmured to your best friend and followed Giorno outside the meeting room.

Not a word could be heard until you got into what you supposed was his office now, and even then, he didn't say anything. He sat down in his chair, his emerald eyes eating you up.

"Okay. What the hell is happening here? Why are you here? How did you get this position? Why don't you leave me alone?" you said, trying to sound like you were mad at him. Honestly, you were just confused.

The corner of his lips rose, forming half an arrogant smile. You felt your heart flutter, and you bit the inside of your cheek.

"That's no way of speaking to your boss, is it now?" he said calmly, but your head was spinning with the need to know, not giving a damn about his role now.

"Cut the bullshit! I didn't even know you were my boss until like, what, five minutes ago?" you kept your attitude while Giorno just extended his lips into a full smile. However, his eyes weren't smiling back at you.

"I suggest you lower that tone of yours and change your attitude, sweetheart. If you are not aware, I'm the one who is in charge now. I could fire you any second. Perhaps, I should." The coldness hidden in his calm voice sent shivers down your spine.

You roll your eyes, annoyed, and he signals you to sit down. He was right. He did have the power to do it, given his new position. "Fine, I apologize for my behavior. I'm just...confused, to say the least. You were okay with us breaking up, and now you are in my life again. As my boss, but still. I thought that's where our paths diverged. Why are you here?"

"Well, I think you know my dream is to make Italy a better place. Meaning I need to absolutely get rid of drugs. And I'm pretty sure I never agreed on our break up"

"What does that mean? I asked you if you are okay with us parting ways and you said yes!" Probably the combination of shock and confusion that was displayed on your face right now was more than funny, considering the giggle that left his pretty lips.

What am I thinking?!

"Oh, my silly little bunny...You are so funny sometimes."

You raised your brow at his remark.

"What do you mean? I'm pretty sure you did agree." After he realized you were serious, his smile dropped. You felt shivers running down your spine and it suddenly felt like the temperature went down.

"I told you I'm only giving you a break. You really thought I'll let you leave forever?"

[rinsuniverse]

hi hiii ur woozi drabbles are so adoraaablleeeeee 🤧🤸‍♀️🤧🤸‍♀️🤧🤸‍♀️ can we get the members calling you to get woozi out of his studio since he is always working so hard 🥺🫶

[9:06]

imagine the members desperately calling you to collect your mans (woozi) from overworking himself 🫶

this is literally the cutest thing ever

anyway, you're clocking out of work one day, thinking about what you want to eat

when suddenly you get a video call from soonyoung

you quickly say goodbye to your favorite coworkers, then walk outside of the building to answer the call, plugging in your earphones quickly

"hey, soon-"

"Y/NNN, MY SAVIOR, MY ONE AND ONLY, MY BEST FRIEND, MY-"

"YOU GOT A HOLD OF Y/N?! HURRY AND TELL THEM-"

"guys, maybe we should chill out- haha, they don't know what's going on at all 😭😭😭"

"just pass the phone to me-"

"no, i got it! y/nnieee, how are you?"

you sit there, staring at soonyoung, dk, mingyu, and minghao who are crowded together in what seemed to be a practice room

"umm, i'm good. just got off of work. what's up?"

"oh, that's great! do you have any plans-"

"get to the point, soonyoung!"

"i'm getting there!"

"y/n, can you check on jihoon for us? we're all playing around in the practice rooms, but he's telling us not to worry about him and that he still has lots of work to do... but he's been in there like all day," minghao says, interrupting soonyoung

"oh, but what am i supposed to do?"

"convince him to come hang out with us, of course! you can come hang out, too!" seokmin says, popping his head into the frame of the camera

"he won't listen to me-"

"he can never say no to you!"

"oh, please. he says no to me a lot," you say, trying to think of a time

"pleaaaaase, y/n? we're really worried about him :(" soonyoung pouts, making you kind of cringe

"okay, fine, but if he says no, then i'm not pushing it."

"try your best! do some aegyo if you have to! we'll see you soon!" dk says before hanging up the call

you make your way over to his studio, kind of nervous about it

like, if he says no, what are you supposed to do? just... leave? alone?

you knock on the door, and soon enough, he's there in front of you with his long hair kind of messy and in his signature slippers

"oh, y/n. i didn't know you were coming," he says, opening the door for you

you nod, walking into the studio and placing your stuff down on the couch

he sits down at his desk before going back to his work

you awkwardly waddle over to his seat and peer over at the monitor.

"hey, jihoon..."

"hmm?"

"are you busy?"

"yeah, kind of. why?"

"i was thinking... maybe we should call it a day and go hang out? it's already pretty late. the sun is setting."

he tilts his head. "did the members set you up to this?"

"no! but it would be cool to hang out with them, right?"

he laughs lightly, before turning to look at you. "wouldn't it be better to hang out just you and me here?"

you frown, turning to look around the studio

he wasn't rejecting you, but you didn't want to let the members down

you internally cringe as you pull up a chair and sit down next to him, turning his chair so he can look at you

"can we please go hang out with your members? pretty please? ... um... it'll be really fun! i'll make it up to you, okay?... baby?" you give him your best puppy eyes as he looks at you with his jaw dropped

his cheeks quickly turn a nice shade of pink, but he silently wishes you can't see it because of the dim lighting he has

"what?"

"don't make me say it again..."

he cannot make eye contact with you

but he silently saves his work and shuts off his monitor before grabbing his jacket and your belongings

"let's go?"

you look at him, your cheeks still burning from embarrassment, but you follow him out anyway

he teases you after you hang out with the members when you get home

he pokes you and says "how are you gonna make up for it, hmm? should i call you baby, too?"

"what do you want me to do? it's embarrassing just thinking about it"

"come here," he says, pulling you closer. "give me a kiss."

you kiss him, tangling your fingers in his hair as you pull him closer to make the kiss last longer

you let go, and he quickly disappears, leaving you in your room alone

def not because he is blushing out of his mind and needs to be alone to process how much love he has for you already 😗

thank you so much for this cute request! i hope you enjoyed reading it. feel free to request many, many more things! ✧( ु•⌄• )◞◟( •⌄• ू )✧

(p.s. requests are still open! i specialize in woozi stuff, but i don't mind writing about other svt members! i can also do some nsfw if you want! so request whatever and as much as you want! ς(>‿<.))

[boypeggers]

rainy days

pairing: bunny!armin x reader

wc: 1.7k

tags: angst but not like the “SOBBING MY HEART OUT SJSBDJSJ KMSSSS” kind. tiny fluff at the end i think idk

rainy days comfort you on your worst days but you think you’re finding new source of comfort in the hybrid you saved

warnings: mentions of blood but no graphic details

a/n: this is just something i wanted to write cause i was bored. it’s not that good but if you would like me to continue w this lmk!!

the rain outside makes me feel a little better about my day. i’ve always loved the rain, but there’s something about packing up my things to go home to the sound of the rain. it has always bought me comfort. being a hybrid veterinarian is hard work and the sound of rain has always found a way to make my day better. after a day like this one, i needed this.

today, we got one of the worst cases of hybrid abuse i’ve seen. he came to us beaten bloody so much that it made me stomach turn. after we were done working on him. i had to go to the bathroom so my coworkers wouldn’t see me cry. you would think after working in this field after a few years. k would be used to this type of stuff but it never gets easier.

a knock on the door startles me out of my daydream. it sounds panicked. i cant see throught the glass doors because the blinds are down. i have no idea who could be knocking at this time of night. i look down at my watch.

11:00 PM

i start to walk slowly around my desk to the door. As i get closer there’s three more knocks

BOOM

BOOM

BOOM

then, i hear a weak plee.

“please, open the door. i need help.. please.” a weak voice calls out.

do they know someone is in here? i find myself becoming a little scared but nonetheless i take a deep breath and finally open the door. a body tumbles over to my feet from leaning against the door.

i let out a small startled gasp. their face hidden behind the large black hoodie that they’re wearing. i bend down to get a closer look & move the hood from their face. it’s a man but not just any man.

“a hybrid?” i whisper.

a bunny hybrid to be exact. bunny hybrids aren’t uncommon but i’ve never seen one so large but that’s not the problem right now. he needs help. he’s unconscious and has bruises scattered across his face. i try to shake him awake because i’m not very confident i can carry him in myself but he doesn’t budge.

“here goes nothing i guess.” i huff as i try to calculate how i’m going to carry him inside.

i decide to reach behind him and slide my arms under his. i drag him as gently as i can to the back room so that i can have a closer look at his injuries. i somehow managed to put him across the metal table in the middle of the operating room.

i start by unzipping his hoodie that he’s wearing. As i finish unzipping it, i notice blood pooling onto his white ratty shirt. o let out a small gasp. i don’t know how I didn’t notice this earlier. i start panicking slightly because i’m not sure how much blood he’s lost yet.

“calm down, y/n.” i say, as i take a few deep breaths.

i remove his shirt and start working on treating all the wounds that i can.

i sit down with a huff at my desk. i look down at my watch.

2:00 AM

i don’t even think i should even go home now. i have a hybrid who probably doesn’t even know where he is in the back and when he wakes up i need to be here. who knows when that’ll be. he lost quite a lot of blood but thankfully it wasn’t too much to the point he needed a blood transfusion. he should recover quickly especially with his hybrid genes.

i was just about to start finishing up some of the paper work i was packing up before i got that knock on my door but i hear something fall from the operating room the hybrid was in.

i stand up and starting to slowly make my way back to not startle him even more than he probably already was. Once i enter the room i see him backed away from the table into a corner holding a scalpel out toward me. i hold my arms up to my chest to show him i’m not a threat but i don’t think that helps.

“hey, it’s okay. i- i’m here to help.” i say in a shaky breath.

he doesn’t change his position. he still seems tense as i try to comfort him into putting the scalpel down. this isn’t something new, i have been in this same exact position many times before and honestly i don’t blame any of the hybrids that have done this. a lot of them have no reason to trust humans. i would honestly do the same if i’ve been through some of the things they have.

“i’m just here to help.” i repeat.

i point to my badge that i’m wearing on my scrubs. “see, i helped you. i’m a vet here.” i give a small smile. “i even patched up a few of your wounds. you knocked on the door as i was getting ready to leave but when i opened the door you were unconscious.”

i try to stare directly into to his eyes so that he can see that i’m being sincere and honest but it’s hard because his eyes are darting all over the room.

“what city are we in?” he questions softly

“we’re in boston.”

he visibly relaxes a bit and he finally lets the scalpel hit the floor. “i need to leave.” he tries to rush toward the door.

“wait, you still need a couple days to heal.” i try to reason with him. “you could even stay here for a couple days.”

“no, i need to leave now. it’s not safe for me to be here.” he pleads.

“why, we can protect you here. no one knows you’re here.” i reason. “whoever you’re running from doesn’t know you’re here.”

he scoffs and shakes his head. “i’m not running from anyone. i just can’t be here.”

“why can’t you? we can keep you safe here.” i know it’s not my place to beg him to stay especially if he doesn’t feel safe but he’s hurt.

“why would I ever feel safe here.. with humans who do things like this to me.” he looks down at his waist where the bandage lays.

that’s true. why would ever feel safe with me or any other human. he has no reason to believe the words coming from my mouth.

“you’re right. you have absolutely no reason to believe that I’ll keep you safe.” i say looking down at the ground. then, i get possibly the dumbest idea I’ve had all year.

“okay, what if you come to my house for a couple of days. absolutely no one will know.”

“why would I do that?” he questions. “i have no idea if you have any ulterior motives.”

“i swear i don’t. i just want to help you.” i look into his eyes.

“why are you doing this? why you want to help me so bad.” he says this as he brushes his hand through his hair.

i actually don’t know why i want to help him so bad. Of course i always want to help my patients and i will always want what’s best for them but this feels.. different. maybe it’s because of what I witnessed earlier today. that hybrid that came in today broke something inside of me and deep inside i felt guilty. guilty because i felt like k couldn’t help them enough. i obviously helped heal their wounds but i could never heal that trauma that will live on with them for the rest of their lives.

“i- i don’t know. i just do.” i sigh. “you can leave after a couples days. when your wounds heal.” i point to his side. the side i patched up. i notice he’s been wincing in pain and holding his side gently as we sat here talking. there’s no way he’ll be able to make it far if he decides to leave on his own.

“okay, i’ll leave with you.”

-

. after coming home last night i got the spare room in my small apartment ready for him and after that i haven’t seen him.

it’s now 1pm the next day and i took the day off of work just to see how he’ll adjust. i know hybrids can have a hard time adjusting to new places and even if he’s only going to be here a couple of days. i still want him to be as comfortable as possible.

i would be worried even more if i hadn’t been setting food outside of his door and seeing it disappear. i’m glad to know that he’s at least eating well.

i honestly don’t know what i was thinking last night. maybe it was because i was severely sleep deprived but i just felt a strong urge to help him. i couldn’t just leave him there and now i feel a big weight on my shoulders now that there’s another presence in my apartment.

-

as the day passes the suns eventually goes down and i find myself placing dinner at the door. i find myself feeling a little disappointed he didn’t come out today but i also understand. a new place can be scary and he doesn’t even know me.

after, i place the food at his door i start to walk away . his door cracks open and we make eye contact. i just give him a small smile and i continue to walking away but his voice stops me.

“is there anyway i could have more vegetables?” he questions in a small voice.

as soon as i hear the question leave his mouth i instantly feel bad and honestly quite dumb. as a hybrid veterinarian, i should’ve known he would like a mostly green diet. his human side still needs other nutrients but he would mostly crave vegetables.

“oh, of course. we can go get some out the kitchen if you want.”

he doesn’t say anything just picks up the plate i sat on the ground and makes his way towards me. as we make our way over the to the kitchen, he speaks up again.

“my name is armin by the way” he states nervously.

i take it in with a smile and i respond with my name.

[lazycats-stuff]

I have a stpry idea for you.

The Corinthian x male reader.

Yn had a really bad day, like really really bad, so when he got home he gave Corinthian the silent treatment. The Corinthian has tk use his southern charmᵗᵐ to get Yn to talk.

You got it Anon!

Summary: (Y/N) is having a bad day at work, so much that he ignores everything and everyone. Corinthian included. Corinthian is not having it and decides to use his southern charm to get him to talk.

Warnings: None.

(Y/N) sighed, for the nth time this day. There was so much work for one person. He truly needs a raise or a new job. If he gets a new stack of papers, he is going to set this place on fire. He can't do any paperwork anymore. He truly cant. And it seems that he needs to stay late. For the 3rd time this week. Overtime that is not paid.

Welcome to Hell.

He sighed for the nth time today, refusing to look at the big stack. He looked up and froze once he saw an intern with a huge stack of papers, heading towards his desk. He looked up to the ceiling, praying to whatever deity is willing to listen that he doesn't stop by his desk.

And of course, the intern stops by his desk.

" I'm sorry mister (L/N). "

" I don't blame you, I blame our boss. " (Y/N) said, standing up.

He went to the break room, leaving the intern behind. The poor kid is not blame here and he didn't want to snap at him. He couldn't do that to the kid who simply wanted to earn some money and get some experience.

He opened the door to the break room, but jumped back once he felt bumping into somebody. With a hot cup of coffee in their hands. He hissed in pain as he felt the hot coffee on his skin, even through the fabric of his shirt. He quickly moved the damp patch away from his stomach, trying not to get a 1st degree burn.

" Shit! " (Y/N) cursed at the coworker.

The coworker started apologizing and (Y/N) simply accepted, moving into the break room, quickly taking napkins and wiping the coffee of off his skin. Why is this happening to him?

He quickly washed it off and looked at his shirt. The big brown smudge bothered him. He frowned at the smudge. He was going to burn this place down one day.

" Shit... " He said to himself.

Once he was done with the half the stack of papers, he was packing up to go home. He stayed an hour late and he was exhausted. For the 3rd time this week. He has just hoped to leave because he didn't want to see the boss, he didn't want to get any more work at this point.

" (Y/N), just the man I was looking for. " He said, walking up to (Y/N).

(Y/N) didn't say anything, he simply nodded in acknowledgement. He didn't want to say anything rash and he definitely didn't want to snap at the man. He does sign his paychecks after all.

" I need you to stay behind tomorrow as well. "

" Well sir, if those hours are not going to be compensated, I'm not going to stay behind. I am exhausted and I don't feel well. "

His boss seemed shocked to hear him say that. It seems that he didn't hear anybody say that to him.

" We are already short staffed as it is (Y/N)! You can't bail out on us! "

" Well, that is not my fault, that is your fault. And my health is more important then to pay for your mistakes. Now, if you are going to excuse me, I am leaving. Good night. "

(Y/N) quickly left, not wanting to continue this conversation with his boss. He simply wants to crash right now. He frowned once he exited the building, but couldn't find his car keys, but then remembered. The car was at the mechanic's. Shit. This is going to be a long walk back home.

He sighed and got started. He looked up to the dark sky. It was far too dark for his liking. He could only hope that the rain doesn't fall right now. The first drop made him lose hope.

Corinthian glanced at the clock, then glancing outside at the rain falling down.

He hoped that (Y/N) is somewhere nearby, knowing that he was at work. He didn't like it. His lover was exhausted and simply moving on autopilot, barely able to function.

He remembers how he had to feed (Y/N) once. He chuckled at the memory and put the book away. Maybe he should go see where his boyfriend, just to make sure...

He didn't have to, since (Y/N) walked through the door.

" Hey darling'. How was work? " He asked from the couch, glancing at the remote, before turning to look at his boyfriend.

He didn't get anything in return. Okay. Maybe he simply didn't hear him. Or maybe he is mad about something. Because (Y/N) usually greets him with a kiss and a hug. No ifs or anything like that, Corinthian always get his hugs and kisses.

He frowned once he hear a sniffle in the bathroom and then the shower. Okay, something has happened to (Y/N). He needs to break him out of the trance and make him talk.

After the shower, (Y/N) moved to the bedroom, sniffling on the bed, seemingly forgetting that the Corinthian was in his apartment, worried about his lover.

He needs to get him to talk. So, he is using one of the things that he knows will make him talk.

His southern charm. The one he uses to seduce and make (Y/N)'s knees wobbly.

" Why darling, what's got you so worked up? Hmmm? " Corinthian asked, sitting down next to (Y/N)'s lying form. (Y/N) curled into himself more, trying to make himself smaller.

" Did something happen at work? Did somebody tried to do something to you? Do I need to kill somebody honey bun? "

Corinthian smiled when he heard a watery laugh from (Y/N).

" What happened hun? If you need me to kill somebody, I will. "

(Y/N) moved to lay his head down on Corinthian's lap. Corinthian got the hint and started scratching (Y/N) as if he is a cat. Behind the ears, or caressing his head.

" Now, what happened? "

" I had so much work today, then I got coffee spilt on me and my boss wanted me to stay behind tomorrow... And I told him no, then I got soaked by the rain... And... I'm sorry for ignoring you. "

" Don't be hun, it's normal for wanting to shut off. But just know, if you need a talk, I am right here. "

He moved his hands down to caress (Y/N)'s face.

" I know... I know. "

[namuneulbo]

week one hundred and fifty six

this week was alright.

ben & jerry's has started a loyalty card in a few store chains here now and i will be using that so often. i eat so much ben & jerry's ice cream.

we had an after work on monday. i didn't work that day but almost everyone were going anyways so i joined in for a bit. it was fun and i'm slowly getting to know what my coworkers are like outside of work. one of them started like talking about a fight she had and i was weirded out because she kept calling the person a transvestite and not using correct pronouns and kept going like "he... she? they?" and i literally ended up snapping at her a bit telling her to just use they and later on called her out on using transvestite when that's such an old term. obviously, still used today but she was obviously using it to mean trans person when those terms are not interchangable. i just felt really weirded out about it, man. knowing it was a trans person didn't add anything to the story anyways, it was exactly the same as pointing out race or disability or whatever. didn't add context. just weird pointing it out.

still had a good night apart from that though!

my local store just restocked carbonara fire noodles. they're always out of stock. i got a couple but i realize i should've gotten way more because, jesus fucking christ, they sell out fast.

we were dressing up for work on thursday... or so i thought. everyone said they would but i ended up being the only one fully in costume. i was dressed up as tyler durden, blood in my face and red leather jacket yadayada and the two other coworkers who were dressed up wore like a tiny accessory and called it a day TT i felt so out of place. no customer even recognized my costume either.

on friday i went to another halloween party. it was hosted by the university and it was at the same place as the usual wednesday pubs. it was fun actually seeing people dressed up although very few were properly dressed up. i say this as someone who did the laziest costume ever and did mia wallace. literally watched pulp fiction for the first time while getting ready for the party. what a mid fucking movie.

saturday started off with leftover tortillas and a pepsi max for breakfast. quite the cuisine if i do say so myself.

the craziest thing happened too. there's this guy i talked to briefly in the summer. we matched on both hinge and tinder but it was around the same time i just started talking with h and he was more fun and replied faster so you know... he won. anyways, i've seen this guy on campus a few times. well, after work on saturday, i went to pick up some food from max because i would be home alone and i didn't feel like cooking. WHOOOOOOO do you think packed and handed me my food? :)))))

anyways those nuggets were hitting the right spot ;} i fucking love max's vegan nuggets !!!!!!!!!

on a whim last night i texted n, telling him we don't need to go on another date if he didn't feel like it. i did it because i could TELLLLL he was uninterested and to be completely honest, i didn't care too much about having any romantic stuff with him after having him reply with an average speed of one message a day.

today i'm at work again. makeup's slaying. my hair's greasy so i put it into a bun and braided my slut strands. i feel pretty!!

sotw: my chemical romance - sleep

[ltbarnes]

My Blood Turns Into Alcohol

Summary: Bucky Barnes doesn’t step out behind his trusted bar counter, no matter what goes on out on the floor. Until you, that is—the town newbie who stumbles inside the lanky old bar and won’t stop showing up in your pretty dresses and with that shy smile. Bucky is infuriated. Maybe that’s why he won’t let you pay for even one of your drinks, or why his coworkers won’t stop bothering him about you.

Pairing: bartender!Bucky Barnes x fem!reader

Word count: 11.4k

Warnings: mild violence, alcohol consumption, allusions to sex, assholes named John (seems to be a reoccurring theme in my stories), Bucky being a grump and also mutual pining

A/N: This honestly took me three months to write. It’s not even funny anymore, I have three dozens of wips and this is the first I’ve been able to finish in months. Enjoy whatever this became I had no idea where it was going at any point of the story

Masterlist

James Buchanan Barnes does not leave the bar counter. Under any circumstances. It does not matter what's going on on the other side of the two and a half feet of polished wood, placed between himself and the crowd lingering until the early hours of the morning.

Reasons for his principles are discussed heavily amongst the patrons of the bar. He's scared. He doesn't like people. He doesn't want sticky beer on his precious metal arm. Some things are partially true and other not at all, but the principle remains the same. Bucky Barnes does not step outside of the bar counter.

His hostility towards the openness of the bar never stops him from intervening when needed, of course. Middle aged men who don't know how to control themselves, slurring profanities and stalking the waitress, always get dragged out by the security guard. Bucky makes sure of that, always. So does 19-year old kids who think he won't notice their anxious gazes roaming around to see if someone have noticed their intrusion.

Bucky keeps the place in check, but he rules it all from behind the counter. Have been doing so for years. No matter how rowdy it gets through bar fights and unexpected bursts of college kids. He's been forced to roar out orders and yell at frat guys to not lay another fucking hand on the jukebox, or he will personally see to it that they won't have any fucking dicks left the next day. But then it's most sufficient that way, when he remains quiet and brooding for the most part. Comes as a surprise then—his outbursts.

Mr. Lee, who's been a regular for as long as Bucky has been working at the bar, tells him that he won't ever convince a lady to settle down with him if he continues scowling silently behind his sacred wall of wood. He usually earns a grunt in answer, on occasion a smug smirk, while Bucky throws the towel over his shoulder or wipes down the counter.

The topic of his love life comes up all too often during the long shifts. Wanda, the waitress who never fails to turn down each of her seemingly endless suitors of the bar in the most polite way, loves to discuss it like nothing else. She has indeed reminded him that he is no bad looking man at all, and if he really wanted to he could step outside on the street and be crowded by young ladies. It's all with a glint in her eyes, because thankfully she hasn't tried to set him up with a single woman. Not like Natasha used to do.

Quite frankly, Bucky doesn't care that much about getting a girlfriend or wife or whatever people want him to have. Life is entirely fine on his own. Actually, he prefers it. People are complicated and whiny and attention-seeking brats. Everything is better from a distance.

The bell above the entrance chimes as the door is opened gently. Bucky has had a thought or two of crushing it to pieces during his many shifts at the bar, but the owner insists on having it there. He suspects Tony is so attached to the bell simply because of Bucky's distaste towards it.

He tenses just slightly as you make your way inside. Your knee-length dress sweeps across your legs, light fabric contrasting against the small flowers printed upon it like it's 15 degrees hotter outside and not a rainy night, bordering on stormy. Bucky can't help but think that folks these days, especially you, don't know how to dress properly according to the weather, or time of day, but that's just the old man in him. That's what Steve usually says, like he's not just as bad.

But then you sit down by the counter, hoisting yourself up on the tall chairs while adjusting the cardigan on your shoulders. It unnerves him, the way you always let your eyes wander towards him timidly in wait for service despite having met him one and a half dozens of times already. He lingers by the bearded drunk at the end of the bar a few seconds longer than he should, only to postpone the encounter a bit longer. The past few months since you started showing up has been weird for him.

He wants to roll his eyes for no good reason at all as he forces himself towards your end. It's not intentional, his aversion, acting the way he does around you. Most of the time Bucky is quite closed off, he has plenty of trauma to justify it, but he can't grasp what it is that makes him so unapproachable when you show up in front of him, makes his face become stuck in a constant glare that usually scares away most. Steve always complains that he's too grumpy. Lighten up, jerk. 'S not all bad out in the world.

"Hi, Bucky," you say softly, almost too quietly, and he sees it on you that it came out more quietly than you intended. Your face almost contorts into a wince.

It's a dick move, that he doesn't say hello back. He knows that, and still he plants his hands on the wooden counter and stares you down instead. You gulp, mustering up a half-smile.

"I want a strawberry daiquiri tonight," you tell him, scratching the side of your nose with your nail. “Please.”

Bucky raises his eyebrows, some sort of surprise displaying on his face. "Strawberry daiquiri?" he asks, like your request is some outlandish idea he's never heard the likes of. Sure, he's gotten to know that you prefer colorful drinks over a glass of whiskey, but usually Steve makes them for you.

"Yeah. Strawberry daiquiri. Of course, only if making a drink like that won't taint your masculinity all too much." You look up at him. "Fruity drinks are risky business after all," you whisper to yourself, running your finger over a scratch in the wood.

And maybe, just maybe, Bucky let's the corner of his lip quirk up just slightly. But you don't see that. You're too busy staring down at the tainted countertop, following the path of your fingertip.

"Sure," Bucky mutters, turning around before he gives in to the compulsion of staring at you for too long and calling you sweet pet names that he makes up in his mind for you.

It's not that you're the most beautiful woman he's ever seen, or the most interesting either. Those come into the bar every now and then. But if he's honest, you're not the usual kind of regular the bar has. And he's well aware that it's a popular drink, what you just ordered, it's just that people don't order one very often here.

The rest of the late night patrons seem to share his aversion to your presence, or at least curiosity, even after you've lived here for almost three months. The man who's gulped down a few too many glasses of Jack a few feet away keeps sending long glances your way, letting his eyes wander just a little too much. Bucky had planned to send him away soon anyways. Dum Dum Dugan and his biker gang seem to joke around about you, although it's all friendly. They can get rowdy, but it's never anything malicious.

You're mostly quiet as you sip on your red drink for a good half an hour. Sometimes you interrupt your silence to tell him about something you saw the other day, or a good book you just finished. Bucky serves another two rounds of beer to the bikers, rum and coke to an accountant-looking type, tequila shots to Brunnhilde and Thor in the corner booth. Wanda stays with him behind the counter to talk to you about how her brother and boyfriend get along so well despite their many differences. He checks the stock twice, organizes the bottles, counts the change.

It's nearing closing and you're still in your place, lingering with the same drink in your hand while the only other customer left is the half-passed out drunk. Bucky has no willpower in him to kick the man out. He's quite sure you'll leave whenever he tells you to, but Wanda beats him to it.

"Hey, Y/n, we're closing up in ten," she says with a kind smile, wiping down the counter for the last time. "If you're gonna finish that drink, you better do it soon."

"Oh, okay. Sure will," you reply. "It was good, by the way." Your eyes travel over to Bucky where he stands, leaning against the back with his arms crossed over his chest.

"You sure about that? Been sipping on it for an hour and a half." He nods towards the half-empty glass.

It surprises him when you let out a quiet chuckle, shaking your head to yourself. "I’m just distracted. Little stressed," you confess. "Still trying to settle in."

"Still having troubles with your landlord?" Wanda asks, perking her head up. "I told you to let me know if he gave you anymore problems."

You ignore the way Bucky's stoic face turns into a near scowl along with her words. He always seems to do that when you speak of your many mishaps and small miseries.

"Yeah. It's okay, Wanda. I'll handle it myself," you say. "I'm gonna let you close up." You move off of the chair.

"No worries," Wanda answers with a smile. "Let me know when you've gotten home. And don't be gone for too long until the next visit. I'll have Bucky make you 'nother drink that you'll like more."

You nod, trapping your bottom lip between your teeth for just a mere second, but Bucky can't get the image out of his head. If he were any closer he might have freed it with his thumb. When you reach into the pocket of your cardigan, fishing out a ten dollar bill, he can't control the words tumbling out of his mouth.

"It's on the house," he says, stopping your movements before you have the chance to lay the bill on the bar.

"Oh," you breathe out. "Really? Thank you." The smile on your face is blinding. "Think I'm gonna keep coming here if you give me more free drinks."

"'S not gonna be a regular occurrence," he mutters, face fallen into that brooding frown once more. "Any longer."

You back towards the door, closing your hand around the handle. "I'm not counting on it," you say over your shoulder, before slinking out of the door.

It's not until the bell chimes once more, ringing in aftershocks of the door closing shut, that Bucky feels the intense stare of Wanda on his face.

"What?" he mumbles.

"You know those free drinks you keep giving her are going out of your paycheck, right?"

A grunt is enough of answer for Bucky, who drags himself away from Wanda. She knows he's avoiding talking about the topic. Doesn't mean she'll stop asking.

"She's very nice, you know?" she says after a dozen seconds of silence, sticking her head inside of the storage room.

"Don't even think about it."

You've been here quite a lot lately. More than what your mother would approve of—she'd undoubtedly think you were an alcoholic by now. But you don't drink every time, not even close to it. Instead it's mostly Shirley Temples and sometimes a coffee from the staff room if Wanda's working.

Bucky the brooding bartender isn't here tonight. He's an enigma to you—grumpy and cold and somehow sweet in the moments when he lets his mask slip. But you're not really sure wether or not you like the guy yet. Or you like him, a bit too much, but he's very...interesting in his behavior.

You've noticed how your tab doesn't always include everything you ordered when he's working, and he always listens intently to whatever you have to say, but then he stands there scowling in the corner whenever you talk to Wanda or the other bartenders. Sometimes he tells you a bad joke under his breath, as if he hadn’t intended to, and then he says nothing for an hour. He's balancing on a scale right now, you think. Maybe it's for the best that he's not here. You always say such stupid things around him.

The waitress though, her you certainly like. Actually, you're bordering on loving her for how good of a friend she's been to you since that first night you stumbled in here a few months ago. Honestly, friends have been sparse since you moved to town. It's understandable, considering the small size of it, but it's been lonely besides the sisterly bond you've managed to form with Wanda. You guess that's why you ventured into this bar in the first place, but found yourself too shy to start conversation with anyone.

The fact that it's a Friday night probably gives your loneliness away, though. Perhaps it is so obvious that it's the reason behind why the redheaded waitress joins you in your booth, sliding in opposite of you with a warm smile on her face that forces you to drag your eyes away from the laptop.

"Hi, Wanda," you greet her, taking out the headphones from your ears.

"I like you too much to let you sit here alone on a Friday night. That is just not acceptable, honey," she says, reaching over to close your laptop. The gesture earns an offended gasp that doesn't quite carry the conviction a genuine one would.

"Does it matter if I would have done the same thing at home?" you ask meekly, reaching for the glass of water you've settled with so far. "I'm at least a little more social here..."

"No. That won't do it either," she tells you, already halfway up from her seat. "Put that thing away and join me by the bar counter. I'll have Steve whip you up one of those fruity drinks you like."

A quiet chuckle through a sigh is all the answer Wanda gets before she turns around, heading away from you with her hair swinging from her ponytail.

"No grumpy bartender here tonight?" you ask while sitting down at one of the stools placed by the counter, giving a glance to the tall blonde occupying the space Bucky usually has. "Has he quit of misery after I didn't drink up the Tequila Sunrise he made me the other day?"

Wanda smiles, shaking her head while sharing a knowing glance with the man. "Bucky doesn't get in until ten today, miss. But I'm sure I can occupy your time until then if you wish to see him so desperately."

Heat rushes to your cheeks so quickly that no matter what you say it will most likely come across as a horrible excuse. "No—no. Not like that," you nearly seethe through a whisper, leaning in like your words are somehow a secret. You hear Steve chuckle heartily from a few feet away. "Don't laugh at me, Steve! I just want more free drinks, that's all!"

Your attempts to deflect the attention away from you fails miserably, because there's that eyebrow lift from Wanda and amused shake of head from Steve that tells you they've got it all wrong. You don't actually know why Bucky keeps evading your attempts to pay for your drinks. A groan sounds from your lips while you bury your face in your hands.

"Oh, just give me that drink I was promised. I think I'm gonna need that if I'm gonna spend the next few hours with you two."

Slipping your palms away from your hidden face, you're met with two warm smiles, Steve leaning his hands against the counter and Wanda loading up shots on a tray. And the absolutely infuriating man dares to open his mouth once more, delivering one of those smug lines he always seem to have.

"Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say."

Four and a half drinks and two hours later, you've relocated to a booth and taken off the sweater previously covering your arms. Wonderfully tipsy, probably drunk but absolutely in denial, and unexpectedly in tears from laughter. Squeezed in between the large and boisterous man who you've come to know is named Dugan and his trusty friend Gabe, you're perfectly content and more happy than you have been since you moved here.

A harmless biker gang consisting of a bunch of old friends in their late-thirties to mid-forties is the last group of people you would've thought you'd end up in conversation with tonight, but god, are they wonderful. Steve sent you here in exile after you started getting too chatty during the third drink, to the point where he had trouble doing his job. Who knew a little bit of alcohol was all you needed to get out of your shell?

Unfortunately, or maybe it is a blessing in disguise, you don't even notice when Bucky turns up behind the bar counter to start his shift for the night. Though he notices you. Oh, it's very first thing he sees—you throwing your head back in laughter, reaching for your glass while Morita gestures wildly through one of his infamous stories. You're drunk. He sees it so clearly, and you're so different.

Bucky almost scowls, because he despises himself for taking note of how you've held yourself, how you talked and grew shy and apprehensive and how you held back during your visits. All of that is gone—now sits a free-spirited woman on the verge of slurring her words, having so much fun that he nearly wants to shake his head.

"What is she doin' there?" he mumbles while making his way to Steve, who's drying his hands on a towel.

"Who?" the blonde asks in return with an amused smile, despite having spotted the way Bucky's eyes drifted to your figure. He only earns a glare in answer. "Sent her away a while ago. Apparently that one is a talker with a few drinks in her blood. Would tell you to keep an eye on her, but seems like you already got that handled."

"Punk."

"Jerk." Steve smiles. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah, yeah," Bucky mutters dismissively, barely even noticing as his friend slips away.

And no matter how much he trusts Dugan and Morita and everyone else around that table, Bucky keeps an extra eye on the group during the next half an hour. They're good men, but it still unnerves him as you sit there laughing and managing to keep their attention through your questionable attempts at storytelling.

And maybe he spends a bit too much time letting his gaze drift down to how your cleavage looks in that cute little blouse of yours, but he spends just as much time watching the way your eyes light up right before a big laugh escapes your lips, and your hands flying wildly around you while engaging in the conversation. It's not often he wishes to be a part of a large, rowdy group, but in this moment he would rather sit there than stand behind this bar.

It's not until you make your way out of the booth, standing up on wobbly legs and a giggle on your lips, that he forces himself to remain professional and do his goddamn job. You stagger up to the bar counter, hoisting yourself up on a stool despite having no plans to stay very long.

"Bucky. Bucky-boy," you say, smiling up at him while your eyes blink slowly. "I want a shot. Vodka."

"Vodka?" he asks, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that, Y/n?"

"Yes. 100%. It's vodka or nothing."

Bucky turns his head, keeps his smile away from you, before schooling himself and letting the corners of his lips fall once more.

"Think you'd be better off with nothing, huh? You're gonna be sick, Y/n."

"No. I promise I won't, Bucky." You lean your chin in your hands, fluttering your lashes while pleading with your gaze. "Please. Please. Bucky, you know you're my favorite bartender."

"Flattery is not gonna work on me, peach," he says, gulping to rid himself of the nickname he just let slip.

But you barely notice. At least, that's what he reads your wandering gaze that stays anywhere but at him as. And despite his gratefulness for your distant mind he still finds a part of him wishing for you to react.

Against his better judgement, he pours that one last shot for you. It's not that he finds it hard to say no to you. Denying your wishes is something that he does constantly, it seems like, everytime he insists on letting you go without paying. You really have fought back fiercely these last few weeks though.

Bucky is made to regret his decision remarkably a few hours later, just thirty minutes shy of closing and the bar mostly empty. Except for you, Dugan and Morita, that is. He did not expect to find you so mischievous while drunk. How you managed to get a hold of more alcohol without him noticing is a little amusing and slightly disheartening, but mostly concerning.

You're slumped in the corner of the bar, eyes fluttering closed every other second while desperately trying not to throw up. Apologies to the men beside you have been rolling off your tongue repeatedly for the last ten minutes. You do not want them to feel obligated to stay for your sake, but quite frankly you are not fit to be alone either.

The sound of voices speaking softly, probably, buzzes in the background. You let your eyes rest, head leaning against the wall, heavy breaths escaping your nose. Sleep feels like the only sane option in this moment if you are to rid yourself of the horrible feeling coursing through your body.

Hands on your thighs gently shake you awake. The bar is empty. Only the usually grumbling bartender is sitting in front of you, crouched down, brows furrowed into a concerned frown. The image is strange.

"Hey, Y/n," he says, much too indistinguishable for your drunken mind to comprehend. "Y/n, I need you to drink some water. Think you can do that for me?"

All you muster up in answer is a nod. Bucky's quite sure you don't know what you're agreeing to. Despite your less than functioning state you manage to bring the glass to your lips, gulping down the cool liquid with only a few drops spilling down your chin. A calloused thumb wipes away the water from your skin.

"Let's get you home, huh, sweetheart?" Bucky mumbles under his breath, much too quietly for you to hear. He doesn't know if he'll ever have the courage to call you things like that out loud.

He's glad he walked Wanda to work after she'd stayed at your apartment only the week prior. Taking you home to his place would feel both inappropriate and a violation to your safety. He would never do anything to jeopardize it, but you don't know that. You can't possibly trust him like that yet.

"Do you think you will throw up, Y/n?" he asks you while helping you up the staircase, his arm thrown around your waist and yours around his shoulders.

"No. No. 'S better," you mumble, squinting to see through the poorly lit building.

"Are you sure? Do you need me to stay for a moment?" he adds, even though the question is more a request in reality. Leaving you alone in this state feels so fundamentally wrong in his bones. It nearly aches, the thought of his absence during your hardships.

"You trying to get 'nto my bed, Barnes?" you say, cracking a smile while your eyes flutter closed, head lolling onto his shoulder. Bucky doesn't answer. He can't. Not that you'd remember his reaction tomorrow, or anything that was said during the past hour. He's never seen your bad jokes on a roll like this, despite having been properly used to them by now.

Fishing out the keys from your bag is more complicated than expected. Having someone slumped against your side, barely conscious, will inevitably have that effect even for someone like Bucky. Cold gusts of wind from the open windows meet damp skin once he steps inside the apartment, carefully maneuvering you to the dresser you have standing in your hallway. Kneeling down to untie your shoelaces, he finds himself sporting a stupid grin while hearing your giggles.

"It tickles," you say through a hiccup, the muffled thump of your head meeting the wall behind you sounding through the apartment.

"Just a few seconds more," Bucky answers, fingers clasped around your leg while removing the shoe from your foot.

And he makes the mistake of glancing up at you from where he's kneeling, meeting the intense gaze directed at him he haven't quite seen before. Not like that, like you're looking at him now. But you're still drunk. He notices that so clearly as you fall down on top of your sheets, sinking into the soft duvet with a hum on your lips. The presence of him in the room is barely noticed, he believes, until your voice breaks the silence of the cold room.

"You're so nice to me, Buck," you mumble into your sheets. And he thinks that, no, he isn't very nice to you at all. Not in the ways that matter, in the ways that are obvious or straightforward or particularly noticeable at all. Do you really notice?

"Go to sleep, honey," he says, tracing his fingertip just over your cheek. Your lips part, eyes closed.

"Sweet...Buck."

Your breathing evens out only a few seconds later, without the end of your words meeting his ears. Bucky stands in the doorway, turns your lights off, for a whole minute before he gathers himself enough to leave. It's getting too real, too close, doing this. It's not his right to act this domestic with you when he can barely pay you a simple compliment. Constantly watching from afar, listening to your rambles and once in a while offering a piece of himself that can only count as a crumb. What he has with you can surely only exist in his mind.

He manages to lock the door from the inside. Spending the night guarding your door from the outside would piss Steve off, having him sleep-deprived tomorrow at work. Or today, isn't it?

He sees the soft fabric of your dress, white flowers against dark blue, fluttering around your knees before your face comes into view. Only you, only this goddamn girl who comes into this bar with pretty dresses that drive him fucking crazy. He nearly wishes you would stop showing up like that, in case that would hinder him from fucking his own fist on sleepless nights to the thought of unwrapping you from those dresses. But he would never deprive himself like that—no, seeing you so beautiful and soft gifts him enough life to remain calm in even the nastiest of bar fights and disputes with annoying college kids.

Your name lingers at the back of his throat, syllables rolling on his tongue until it nearly slips out. It does halfway, before he witnesses your hand encased in someone else's, a man just behind you with his hands on your skin. Fingers digging into the curve of your waist, scrunching the fabric, a nervous smile on your lips. The glass in Bucky's hand shatters quietly. No one else notices but him when the shards carve into his skin and draw red drops of blood down his palm.

He looks away. He doesn't want to, god knows he wants to always let his gaze travel over your figure, but he has to. Your eyes flicker over towards the bar counter, worriedly searching for Bucky in some grasp of comfort. But then again, if you actually caught eye contact you might have abandoned the whole thing if only for just a small chance to spend the night with Bucky instead. But the guy asked you out, and he's handsome and charming and probably wonderful, and Wanda insisted you try new things now that you're in a new town.

"Hey, you're bleeding," Sam calls out, frowning while eyeing the red liquid dripping down Bucky's hand.

The latter grunts in response, sending one last glare your way before slipping in the back. He comes back with a bandage wrapped around his palm, a scowl deeper than the one before, and a new costumer waiting for him with a face that begs to take his fist. He hates the guy already.

The man orders a drink for you. It bugs you a little that he didn't ask what you wanted, but you make no move to acknowledge it. Leaning your chin in the palm of your hand, you gaze down at the chipped pink polish on your nails and make no move to pay any attention to what's going on at the counter.

"Busy night, huh?" the man asks, leaning against the weathered wood with an arrogant smirk Bucky would just love to wipe out. He really does goddamn hate talking to people.

With a grunt he answers, ignoring the question in favor of concentrating on making the drinks. The punk ordered a fucking martini for you. Did he even ask you what you wanted? Bucky knows damn well that you would spit it out rather than force one of those down.

He casts an eye your way, seeing you peel off your chipped nail polish the way you do when you're nervous. That dress you're wearing—the punk with you tonight doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve seeing the way the fabric flows down your legs, sweeps against your knees when you walk. Not when he couldn't even bother asking you what you wanted. A martini? Seriously?

Glasses clink against wood a little too harshly, sweeping near the edge once he sets down the finished drinks. An old-fashioned and a Paloma stands swirling in front of a scowling bartender, hands grasping the counter harshly while glaring at the costumer.

"This is not what I ordered," the man says, eyeing the grapefruit pink liquid in front of him. Sam sends an amused side-eye towards Bucky that he tries to ignore. The man eyes it with distaste, frowning while bringing it up to his nose to smell it. Bucky hopes he spills the drink on his ridiculously crisp shirt.

"She doesn't like martinis," Bucky mutters under his breath, looking over at where you're sitting once more. You're tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, biting down on your lip.

"How the hell would you know?" the man spits out. A small drop of saliva hits Bucky's cheek. It takes every ounce of composure not to flinch. "This is none of your damn business. Do your job."

"She doesn't like martinis," Bucky repeats again, slower, glaring him right in the eyes with teeth grinding against each other. "Should've asked her before you walked up here and ordered."

He scoffs, averting his gaze with a roll of his eyes before taking a hold of the two glasses and walking away. Bucky sees the guy slide into the booth, right opposite you, and the way your eyebrows lift slightly in surprise as you notice your drink. He hears the guy take credit for the choice of drink, act like he just knew you liked it from the beginning. Bucky's pissed off.

"You're gonna kill the guy with that glare," Sam says through an amused grin, taking a swig of his beer.

"Eat shit."

"And you should be nicer to that girl, you know?" Sam says as soon as he sits down at the bar, sporting that everpresent smirk that tells him he knows much more than he lets on.

"What d'ya mean?" Bucky mumbles, a scowl on his face that always seems to be there when Sam shows up. Thank fucking god he loves the punk.

"You're broody. She's trying to talk to you, but you always act like a dick except when you refuse to let her pay for her drinks."

"I'm like this to everyone," he answers.

"No, you're not. I've seen you been nice, and this is not it. The poor girl have been here for six months, doesn't have a lot of friends besides the people in this bar. She doesn't need an asshole of an admirer right now, does she?"

Bucky refrains from sighing out loud, opting to wipe down the counter in silence instead. He knows very well what Sam is saying is true. Too much, probably, but he can't really help it. You're too soft, too nice, too different than what he is used to. Having a conversation with someone who genuinely listens like that, honestly wants to know what his day has been like or what his favorite thing to cook for himself is or what he watches on a Friday night—it's new.

If there's one thing Bucky Barnes has learnt in the countless of hours with Dr. Raynor, it's that he's allergic to vulnerability and would do pretty much anything to avoid it. Including his problem with going out on the bar floor. And treating you less than what you deserve, despite how much you never let it affect you. You keep coming, keep trying to make conversation even if you don't always get an answer. By this point you've told him pretty much everything about yourself just to fill the silences.

"I'm heading out." Sam interrupts his deep train of thought, setting down the glass with a clink. "Lighten up, will you? Be nice."

With an acknowledging nod he sends his friend off, tending to the refills and newly stumbled in costumers while trying to stop himself from glancing over at you every other second.

He fails miserably.

Bucky could feel his temper run away from him, far from where he has any control of his actions or whatever is said from his mouth. No one could blame him if he socked the guy in his eye right now, could they?

He didn't want to hear the conversation going on right outside of the door. Or to say he isn't intentionally listening would be a blatant lie, but he wishes he hadn't heard the words coming out of your date's mouth. It's bordering on astonishing how you've managed to find the biggest jerk there is on the market.

And it's not a complete lie to say that Bucky wished during the evening that you would realize what a prick the guy was, abandon him and come sit with Bucky by the bar counter instead. But for god's sake—this is not what he wished for.

"It was really nice to meet up with you, John, but I don't think we're a good match," you had said. Politely.

That simple sentence earned a two minute sermon on how John goddamn Walker had only asked you out to be nice, to make you feel better about yourself because you are just so 'fucking sad', aren't you? But of course you would be too self-absorbed to accept an invitation back to his place for a night of what probably would have been disappointing sex. And that's fine, you know, because you aren't very pretty anyways and you're also boring and annoying and a fucking bitch.

John had grabbed your waist, pulled you into him, right as he led you out of the bar. And it felt wrong. You hadn't planned on going anywhere with him from the beginning, but the conviction only grew when he put his hands on you. The polite rejection came tumbling out of your mouth before you even knew you were talking. That he would go on to push you down in every possible way for several minutes was unexpected. Shocking, even. Maybe that's the reason behind your tears as you stand alone on the curb in the middle of the night, hands wrapped around yourself and dreading walking inside again. But you force yourself to.

The bell rings as you close the door gently behind you, gently despite the tears gathering in your eyes, gently despite the heated words being thrown at you just a moment prior. You're too gentle for your own good. Bucky has thought that ever since the first day you stepped inside this lanky old bar.

"Hey," he calls out, setting down the bottle of Bacardi he has in his hand, following your trail to your discarded bag in one of the booths with his eyes.

Your steps are hasty, rushed while you ignore his call for you. He goddamn hates it—the tension in your posture and the way you're trying to hide the tears you're furiously wiping away from your face, back facing him. You won't let him see you.

"Y/n, slow down," Bucky calls out once more, reluctantly, because there's a hesitance somewhere along with the vulnerability you bring out in him. None of his other goddamn regulars make him worry like this.

Your hand reaches into the very depth of your bag, scrambling around for a stressed ten seconds before your fingers clasp around the cream wallet with small flowers on that Bucky can't help but think is adorable.

A few steps, heels clinking against the wooden floor, and a fifty dollar bill is smacked onto the newly cleaned counter, still damp with small droplets of water. Bucky's face falls into a deeper frown, if possible, because you know damn well you're not paying for anything you have in this house. Even if it's covering for the punk who walked out on you.

"No."

The word is a grumble, stone cold and gruff and accompanying the nearly incomprehensible sound of the bill sliding back towards you.

"Just keep it," you say, voice breaking even though you try so hard to keep it strong. Your eyes are not looking at him—he needs you to look at him so badly—but he sees the slight wobble of your lower lip and the trace of mascara starting to dissolve from your lashes.

"You know you're not paying," he answers, adamantly keeping his fingers on the money in case you get the idea of sliding it back towards him. He knows you're goddamn stubborn, he's gotten that by now.

Deep breath. Head cast down, a few blinks. "Please, Bucky. Take it," you say, an ounce more of conviction in your words while you bite down on your lip. Your hands are still shaking, legs desperate to carry you out of there before mortification chips away on more of your pride.

"I said no," he repeats with just a hint of an order, a harshness to his words that he didn't mean to use. Never with you.

"Just take it for god's sake!" you yell, unable to keep the tears from spilling down your cheeks with the strain. "Why do you—why do you always have to make it so goddamn hard?!"

Your hands come up to your face, a groan of frustration escaping your lips while turning away from his burning gaze. He's always looking too closely, too much. Even if there's two dozens of patrons in the bar, it always feels like his eyes are on you and you hate it. Especially now. It makes you fidget and worry too much, about the way you look and what kind of expression you're making or if there's a trace of food on your skin.

Bucky doesn't inch back. He would have, hadn't he had such a grip on the counter beneath him. Not once has he heard you speak with such animosity, nor volume.

"Y/n—"

"No. Have a good night, James," you force out of yourself, grabbing your bag before he has a chance to convince you to stay.

Bucky's legs itch. They itch with the urge to drag you into his arms, the urge to stalk down the jerk who made you cry, the urge to get on his knees and beg for you to 'please, sweetheart, look at me for god's sake'.

The door opens, old familiar bell rings, and the eyes of Bucky are pinpointing you so hard that it might as well have been a laser pointer. In your haste, you fail to remember the doorstep several inches too tall which always needs caution unless you plan to trip in front of a dozen drunk men.

It's the last straw. Everything spills out of your bag, scatters over the floor and catches the attention of the few people remaining. You freeze, a shaky breath escaping you before you finally let go of your desperate attempt to hold back the tears. Knees nearly touch the floor as you crouch down, burying your face in your hands along with the sound of your sobs.

And Bucky sees it, of course he does. His heart fucking shatters where he stands, just a few inches from where the counter ends and opens up to the floor of the bar. But he hesitates. You're crying for god's sake and he has the nerve to hesitate, over wether or not he should leave what he has lived after for years to comfort you.

"Shit, fucking—" Bucky breathes out, eyes flickering over the bar in panic with his palm running over his mouth. The sound of your whimpers fills his ears, scrapes against his eardrums and he thinks he's never heard something as painful as your sadness.

But then he hears your soft whine, face falling into the palms of your hands, and Bucky doesn't give a damn about whatever hesitations that have been keeping him rooted in his place. He rounds the corner of the bar, forcing himself to look at you because he thinks that if he even sends a glance any other way he will back out.

Dugan had already begun picking up your things, gathering them into your handbag while you lean against the wall right by the door. Bucky releases a shaky breath, unfurling his fingers from where they've been tightly formed into a fist, kneeling down right in front of your figure on the floor.

Bucky tethers onto a thin thread of restraint, seeing you so devastated. He can't pull you into his chest, keep your teary eyes away from the world facing you outside. That rule he made for himself has been an invisible fucking thing that had no real power to stop him, and still he never felt like he could break it. But he sits here, right now, searching for anything to say that will make it better. Anything.

This goddamn rule—it didn't help him in the least from getting attached to the girl hovering around his bar in the most unexpected times in her pretty dresses and with that smile and her words that infuriate him to the point where he can't even work because you're there. Right there, in a booth a few feet away or just right by the bar counter. It doesn't matter where you sit, or if you're even at the bar, because Bucky constantly finds himself keeping an eye out for you.

"Y/n, hey. Look at me," Bucky says, laying his hands over your shoulder. "Sweetheart, 's alright. Will you stand up for me, please? Come sit down in the booth."

He can't stop staring at you. Not even as the bell clinks again, alerting him of a new visitor despite the late hour and pouring rain outside. It's not until the offending cable-knitted sweater comes into his sight once more that he dares lifting his attention from your crying figure.

"Forgot my fucking phone," John says with a scowl as Bucky pinpoints him with his glare.

The clench of his jaw is sure to shatter his teeth eventually, but the nerve of your goddamn date to show his face here again after he made you cry is out of this world. That's evident on not only Bucky's hold, but the remaining regulars not caught up in comforting you. If looks could kill, as you say.

Picking up his phone in the booth with arrogance radiating from John’s hold, Bucky nearly lets him go until the jerk sends a distasteful glare your way. He loses it.

All inhibitions fly out of the window as Bucky pushes himself up from his kneel, steps out onto the sticky floor, stalking towards John right as he turns around. A puff of air is forced out of him as he's met with Bucky's scowling face, backing him into the edge of a table a few feet behind him with a death grip on the collar of his sweater.

John glances down at the metal encasing his shirt with sudden alarm, trying to shrug out of Bucky's grip to no avail.

"You think you can come back in here and act like nothing?" Bucky's voice rumbles with the effort to keep it on a low enough volume. Despite being in the middle of the fucking bar floor he really doesn't feel too keen on exposing this conversation to your ears. "Like you didn't just insult her in every fucking way?"

"What the fuck, man? Get off of me!" John seethes, thrashing once more without any luck, earning him another harsh shove against the table. But his cheeks are burning with shame, because there's nothing more embarrassing to a man like him than to be stuck under another man's thumb.

"Don't ever come in here again. Send another glance her way and I'll fucking end you."

"This is—this is illegal!"

His shouts catch your attention, drawing you away from the shoulder of Dugan to worryingly stick your head out to see what's going on. You saw him come in again, of course you did, but somehow you managed to escape the notice of whatever confrontation is going on. Most of all the sight of Bucky anywhere else than behind his trusted counter sets your heart pounding a little faster in your rib cage. He went out onto the floor.

"I don't care. Get out of my bar before I make you get on your knees and beg her for forgiveness," Bucky grits out through his teeth, shoving the blonde away from the wall. He stumbles, only catching his balance once a few feet away from the door.

With a shake of his head, Bucky turns around, letting the hardened clench of his jaw turn into a concerned frown once more without a second glance to any of the shocked gazes on his back. The hand on his shoulder catches him off guard. Really, if he believed John had any guts left in him he would have foreseen it, but the fist against his cheek hits him real hard.

Stumbling a few steps back with his hand flying to his now bleeding face, he doesn't even have to stave off any other attack before Dugan and his men come to his aid.

"Fucking asshole!" John shouts as he's dragged out of the bar, in lack of any other more creative insults.

Bucky wipes away the blood from his cheek, lifts his eyebrows in slight amusement, while eyeing the man getting kicked out onto the curb. A few choice words are delivered by Dugan and Morita, muffled but still heard through the glass windows, as John gets up from the ground with spit flying out of his mouth.

Turning around to the bar once more, he leans his hands against the counter while wincing through the newfound throbbing in his face. He remains that way, even when the sound of soft footsteps and heels clinking against the wooden floor fills his ears.

"Bucky?" you nearly whisper, nearing him with caution. He can almost imagine your furrowed brows, your concerned face, perfectly.

Bucky turns his head to the side, only enough for you to make out the profile of his face. A bruise is already developing, drawing a wince from your lips.

"Are you okay?" you ask, reaching your hand out but withdrawing it the second his eyes flicker down towards it. He wishes you wouldn't have.

He finally turns around. Seeing the remnants of tears dampening your skin steals the attention away from the hit he took to his face, if even for just a second. Nearly makes him run out and get a hit in himself, before he remembers the question so softly spoken from your lips.

"Yeah. Yeah, 'm fine." He nods, averts his eyes for just a moment. "Are you alright?" he asks, looking down at you through his lashes like that, like he always does, but with a new kind of softness to his gaze that makes heat travel to your face.

You nod in answer as well, wiping underneath your nose with the back of your hand. "You're bleeding, Bucky," you observe, trailing your eyes over the blooming purple patch of skin, stained with the red liquid dripping from his wound. "I should clean it up."

His eyebrows lift just slightly at the suggestion. Having you touching him like that—he's not sure he can take it. Not when it's him that should be comforting you.

"Can I?" you ask, looking at his bleeding wound so intently that he fears you will combust if he doesn't let you. It's not right denying you like that, he tells himself right before opening his mouth to answer.

"Yeah, yeah. Okay." He nods. "Let me just..." Bucky points behind him towards the counter where a first aid kit is stashed somewhere.

"No. You sit down," you say with conviction, pointing to the padded booths behind you in return. "I'll get it."

Bucky can't do anything else than give you another nod, because that's all the communication he can apparently muster right now, knowing that he'd probably do anything you tell him to. Except taking your money.

He looks over his shoulder as he walks towards the seats, seeing you slip out of your heels in the middle of the floor. The corners of his lips quirk up just slightly, sitting down with a silent puff of air escaping his lips. It's about damn time for you to take off those uncomfortable-looking heels. The thought of you squeezing your poor feet into something for that jerk's sake makes him pissed off.

You disappear behind the counter as if you do it everyday. But then again, you're here often, wether it's to talk to Wanda or work at something on your computer or only to sit with a drink and observe the people of the bar. Unlike you, who always chip away at your nail polish while nervous, Bucky keeps his gaze on your figure as you crouch down away from his sight, waiting for your face to return.

The sound of scrambling through the shelves comes from behind the bar. A cheery 'Oh! Found it!' erupts from your lungs that dissolves the silent tension you held before, puts a goddamn smile on the brooding Bucky Barnes's face, until it disappears just as quickly when you bump your head on the polished wood on your way up.

"Ow!" You wince, rubbing the back of your head as you rise to your full height once more, a first aid kit in hand.

Bucky raises himself from his seat with alarm, a step forward with a frown, but is stopped by your lifted hand.

"It's fine, 's fine. I'm okay," you say, unfurling the furrow of your brows as quickly as it appeared.

It's obvious that you intend to walk past him, access the seat next to where he sat just a few seconds ago, but it's hard to do so when a 220-pound man blocks your way. Somehow he manages to be determined yet hesitant in his movements when he lays his hands on your head, tilts it forward to see where you hit it. His fingers run over the slightly red mark that will be gone in a few hours.

"I'm okay. Happens all the time," you assure him in a near whisper. You're almost sure an amused breath escapes him, but it feels out of character for him to do so. Especially now.

And once again you attempt to move past him, but the sudden presence of his hands on your waist is enough to throw your entire sanity out of your head. You squeal when he lifts you, setting you down on the table in front of him with an ease you can't help but be in awe over.

"Oh," you breathe out, watching him intently while he sets himself down in the booth right next to you.

The front of your shins are pressed against his knees. A seemingly innocent contact, but it doesn't stop your nerves from wreaking havoc and sending shivers all over your limbs. It doesn't help, it really doesn't, that Bucky is looking up at you again with that intense stare that forces you to avert your gaze. It's not that you don't want to look at him—he has the most beautiful and blue eyes you've probably ever seen—but it's too much. You can't do that and also succeed in hiding whatever you're feeling for the man.

Instead you carefully search through the first aid kit, closing your fingers that are just trembling slightly around some disinfectant. Of course you spill some on your dress, but you barely even notice. Bucky does.

"Come here," you whisper, motioning his face closer with your fingers. He listens to you without hesitation, despite knowing that having your faces so close will make it hard for him to keep himself from devouring your lips.

And then your fingers slip under his chin, tilts it upwards, and he nearly groans. Having your hands on him, despite how little contact there actually is between you, is a godsend Bucky has longed for since you first stepped into this bar a few months ago. And then you—god he can barely formulate a thought in that dumb brain of his—you trap your bottom lip between your teeth as you clean away the blood from his cheek. He can't stop himself.

A silent gasp escapes your lips as Bucky's thumb frees the prison your lip was held in, stopping your movements only for the sake of watching him. You can see that it wasn't even nearly intentional on the way his eyes widen just slightly, lips parting in some form of shock. But still his thumb lingers, runs over your lip for a second more before he retracts it.

"Sorry," he mumbles, clenching his fist tightly underneath the table. His lack of self control is laughable.

"It's okay," you tell him, gently grasping his face once more. Returning to your service without commenting on it further. He's thankful for that. You're a little disappointed. The thought of it leading to something more nags at you, tugs at your heartstrings that make your pulse go haywire. He hears it.

The pad of your finger brushes over the small bandaids you place over his wound, smoothing it over his skin while a frown grows on your face. Most likely you would have cried if you got a punch like that. Not only because of the pain, but because it's humiliating letting someone hurt you like that. It's humiliating that you let your date insult you like he did, humiliating that you stood there listening to his words to the point of tears.

"I'm sorry," you say, retracting your touch from his skin and Bucky nearly growls.

"For what?" he asks you. Your gaze is still stuck on his wound.

"What he did to you. If I didn't...I shouldn't have—"

"No." Bucky shakes his head, cutting you off before you even have a chance to finish that goddamn sentence. He won't even hear it.

With a sigh, Bucky gathers the courage to lay his palm over your thigh. Holding you still, keeping you here with him.

"It's not your damn place to apologize for what that fucking jerk did. He ain't got no right to come here and ignore what you want and call you those...things when you're not what he expected. I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I can't let that slide. Not when it comes to you."

Not when it comes to you. With a gulp, you force yourself to take in the other words that came out of his mouth and not just the whole of the last sentence.

"But he hurt you." Your hand comes to cup his cheek, thumb running over the blooming bruise once more. "Because of me."

A gasp escapes you as the cold metal of Bucky's left hand comes to rest against the crook of your waist, right hand around your wrist as he holds your hand to his face. Securing it there, afraid you will slip away. He needs your touch.

"Listen to me, honey," he tells you. "I'm a military vet. My best friend got me into three dozens of fights as a kid. I lost my goddamn arm working in this very bar. A punch is nothing."

You raise an eyebrow. This punch—it's not nothing. Doesn't matter how little it is in comparison to everything else he's been through. Bruises and blood don't belong on his skin.

"I don't care about that, Bucky," you say. "I don't want you to get hurt."

He shakes his head, averting his gaze to the door still unopened since Dugan's men dragged your date out. Squeezing your thigh once more, he catches himself having his hands on you without even thinking about it. He didn't even notice.

"Is this alright?" he asks, nodding down to where his palms lay over your figure. Better late than never.

You nod furiously, more eagerly than what you intended, but it's true nonetheless. It's so goddamn alright that you wish he'd never not have his hands on you. With a deep breath and burst of confidence, your hand slips down from his face to his left arm, running it down gently until you reach his hand.

It's unfamiliar, that kind of soft contact with the limb, Bucky realizes as soon as your fingertips trail over the intricate pattern running along the black.

"You lost it in this bar?" you ask, brows furrowing into a frown that he wants to smooth out.

Bucky nods. "Lost it when I was the new kid around here. We had these jerks come here few times a week—Hydra, they called themselves. The leader, Rumlow, he was a real shitty person. Came in with his gang one night already drunk out of their minds, high too probably, looking to pick a fight."

It's your turn now to squeeze his hand. Fingers trail over his palm, tracing a soft pattern that calms him better than the glass of whiskey he has beside him.

"They started picking on this young kid—Peter, who worked extra shifts on the weekends. Pulled out a knife eventually. I had to step in, safety guards weren't really a thing here back then," Bucky says. You notice the clench of his jaw, the tension he holds, and still he doesn't let any of it bleed out on his hold on you.

"Got ugly real fast. Brock and many of his friends had been serving too, overseas. They knew what they were doing, you know? At the end of the day, there were four of them against one. Had no chance, really."

"I'm sorry that happened to you, Bucky," you whisper. "Is this...you never step out past the bar counter. Wanda told me. Is this why?"

He nods in answer, knowing that he just did so after seven years of keeping this goddamn rule. His nod is answer enough for you, it seems like, because you move on to the next question before you even react.

"Where is Rumlow now?" you ask reluctantly, tightening your hold on his hand. He sees the way your gaze travels to the window for just a second, as if he would appear out of the blue to come for Bucky once more.

It's so goddamn endearing that he can't help himself. His hands travel to your waist, lifting you down from the table, placing you in his lap. The soft pads of your feet cling onto the sides of his thighs, heat rushing to your cheeks so quickly that Bucky can almost feel the temperature radiating from you. But you don't protest in the least. Instead you give him a shy smile, hands ghosting over his skin until they find their place at the nape of his neck.

"He's serving time, sweetheart. Can't get to me or anyone else in a long time," Bucky assures you, running his hand down the small of your back while gazing up at you. His head has fallen back onto the top of the sofa, resting. "You know I wouldn't even let you in this bar if there was a chance he and Hydra could come in?"

"No?" you ask, stopping the slow movements of your hands.

"Absolutely not. If someone laid a hand on you..." Bucky trails his fingers up to your cheek, tucking strands of hair behind your ear. "Don't think I would be able to handle that very well."

A shaky breath escapes your lips, hits the top of his nose with the proximity. He knows he just revealed too much, too much about what he feels for you, but it doesn't really matter anymore. He already has you in his lap, stroking your hair with a softness he's never displayed before. You have to know by now.

"Why did you go out today, Bucky? Why did you do that for me?" you ask him in a near whisper.

He looks down at where you’re pressed against him with a deprecating smile. "Steve told me it was obvious from the second night when I kept giving you free drinks even though I said I wouldn't, that punk," he answers you.

And despite his words, his conviction in your knowledge of how absolutely gone he is for you, your eyes still widen along with your fingers digging into his shoulders tightly enough to bruise. It almost makes him angry, the way you're so used to having real affection kept away from you that you haven't seen his infatuation. But then again, he hasn't been exactly perfect in handling his feelings. Sam gave him a good reminder of that earlier.

"Hell, I don't blame you for missin' it," he speaks up again when your silence remains. "Been a real jerk sometimes. Couldn't even talk to you for real the first few weeks."

And to his surprise, you let a small chuckle slip out between your lips. It's not really the reaction Bucky expected.

"You know, I've been telling myself that Wanda was the reason I came here so often?" you say, tracing the outline of his face with your fingertip. "Thought I could trick myself into liking you less if only my reasoning was something else than staring at you working all night. But I don't think that's possible—not looking at you, I mean."

"Hm?" Bucky smirks up at you, drawing a blinding grin from your lips.

"When something...someone lovely exists in front of you, just like that, you would think it a great disservice to whoever created that thing if you do not look at it. And my god, are you beautiful, Bucky."

"Beautiful?" His eyes flicker down to his arm for just a thousandth of a second—you catch it, the way his smile falters just as quickly as it returns.

"Yeah. Surely you must have noticed. You do own a mirror, do you?" you say, melting under his touch as it draws you closer to him. Chest to chest.

"I do," he answers. But he's not looking at you anymore. Or he is, he is looking at you, but not at your eyes. No, his gaze have flickered down to the swell of your lips. "I don't look at it very much."

"No?"

"No. Been spendin' all my time keeping an eye on the pretty girl hanging around the bar. Listening to her talkin' for hours, watching her get pissed drunk, working even though it's a Friday night. I could watch you breathe for hours and not tear my eyes away."

And that’s just what you do—breathe, shallow breaths that feel warm against Bucky’s skin. By now your gaze isn’t focused on his eyes anymore either. It sits so comfortably on the swell of his pink lips, begging for a touch with your own. Soon that silent plead turns real when his mouth forms after the words coming out through his lips.

“I have to kiss you, Y/n. Please let me,” he breathes out, panting, hands splayed out over your cheeks. Both warm and calloused, cold and hard. Perfectly Bucky.

“You don’t gotta ask,” you whisper, an inch away from him, noses touching.

A minute passes. 30 seconds. An hour. Two weeks? You don’t know and don’t care. Spending half a month having Bucky Barnes’s lips on yours would be a perfectly reasonable amount time, if not much too little. But oh, he lets out small whines when you distance yourself and you can’t help but giggle each time.

The next second he pulls you in again, demands the presence of your lips against his, orders your submission with his tongue. He groans, bucking up against your hips. God, the way he touches you, acts, make you desperate. You think you might be addicted to the sweet bourbon taste of Bucky Barnes.

“I knew it!” a shrill shriek erupts the enclosed space you shared with the man underneath you, tears you away from his lips with a soundless whine.

Wanda stands there, all smiling and giddy with a pouting Steve beside her, just behind the bar. He fishes out his wallet from the back pocket of his jeans, plucking out a twenty dollar bill with a scowl. But despite it all, as he makes eye contact with Bucky, there’s a raise of his eyebrow and a small questioning smile on his lips.

You hurry to scramble off of Bucky’s lap, sitting down on your knees right beside him, a grounding metal hand on your waist. The embarrassment must be visible from miles away.

“Thought you’d never have the guts to ask her out,” Steve mutters under his breath. “You just made me lose twenty bucks, you punk.” He holds up the wrinkled bill before Wanda snatches it out of his hands.

The man beside you growls quietly, mumbles a ‘jerk’ under his breath, but you catch the small smirk on his lips anyways.

“Oh, c’mon. It was obvious that these two were gonna combust if they didn’t kiss by the end of the week,” Wanda says.

“Yeah, yeah. You know, Sam was about to ask her out. Said that if Buck didn’t make a move soon he would instead.”

Bucky’s grip on you tightens so much you have to gently loosen it with your fingers. It nearly makes you giggle, the way he’s glaring daggers at his friend sporting a knowing smirk. Steve knows exactly what kind of reaction that would summon out of him.

“That damn pu—“

“Hey,” you call out softly, hands engulfing his face until he’s facing you. “I’m yours, Bucky.”

His scowl softens, blue eyes running over your face for any sign of insincerity that he has never found the trace of in your expressions.

“If you’ll have me,” you add a few seconds later, an abrupt response to the realization that what Bucky is looking for might not be something more than a make-out session.

But then that frown turns into a devious smirk, eyes once more flickering down to your lips while his palms find their way to your hips.

“I’ll have you, darling. On every damn surface in my place, in every damn way I can have you.”

“We can still hear you!” Wanda shouts.

But that mischievous smirk doesn’t falter. No, instead a soft kiss is pressed to your lips, drawing an even bigger smile out of you.

“Good.”

[darling-i-read-it]

The Office

Matt Murdock x Parker!fem!reader

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: SPIDERMAN NO WAY HOME SPOILERS

Author’s Note: I just think … he <3 I hope you enjoy!

Requested: by anon, ooo I have a request! maybe something along the lines of being peters sister and knowing to contact matt cause he was your ex (maybe some history there) and old feelings reconnect?? Fell free to change anything thx :))

Summary: the request

I don’t own these characters. They belong to author/director/creator

(not my gif)

You had been at work when you got the text from Aunt May about Peter and your world came crashing down around you. All of the sudden your coworkers were staring, even the ones you were sure didn’t even know your name. It was that moment that you felt your entire life shift a bit. Things would never be the same after this.

You hit Peter’s phone in your contacts but he didn’t pick up. You didn’t even bother telling your boss you were leaving; everyone knew where you were going the second you ran out the door.

Peter’s face was on billboards and huge TV’s, following your every move. Every time you turned the corner you could tell people were talking about it on the streets. You could barely make it up to May’s door and even then Peter was leaning against the door.

“No entry!” he yelled through it. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s me Peter! Your sister?!” He threw the door open and ushered you inside before anyone else could get in. He leaned against the door, staring at you. You looked at Aunt May, Happy and MJ, who were also in the apartment.

“What the fuck?” you asked, looking at him. You have been trying to protect Peter every minute of every day since your parents died. You could only do so much and then he became Spider-Man right under your nose. You pointed at the windows, listening to the helicopters outside. “How did this happen?” “I was fighting Mysterio and then, you know…he told everyone!” Peter exclaimed. You shook your head.

“They’re going to arrest you. You’re gonna need a lawyer.” You had been thinking about Matt since you heard the news. You had dated for a year before he broke up with you because of his nightly activities.

“You’re gonna call Matt right?” May asked. You pursed your lips, nodding.

“He’s the best lawyer I know. Peter sit down.” You pulled out your phone and turned around, rubbing your temples. Matt was still so high up on your phone. You thought about calling him all the time. You googled Daredevil more times than you cared to admit, reading Karen's pieces about him to make sure he was still doing okay.

He picked up on the first ring.

“Your brother-” he started.

“Yeah.” You leaned against the wall. You could feel May and Happy’s eyes on your back, listening intently to your every word. You had told Matt Peter was Spider-Man. You hadn’t planned on it but when you found out he was Daredevil you couldn’t help yourself. “Can you help?”

“Text Foggy your Aunts address. We’re on our way.” ===

Matt got there in record timing. He quickly walked in, happy to get there before the police did so that he could talk to Peter about not talking at all. You stood in the back, against the wall. You listened intently as Matt spoke, more worried about Peter than you ever had before. All this talk about murder charges…it was scary. That was your little brother they were talking about. He could never murder anyone.

“The good news is, Y/N you probably won’t be arrested. May they’ll want to question you especially because of your close involvement,” Foggy explained.

“They’ll ask if you knew. They could try child endangerment on you but it won’t go through,” Matt promised. “Call me the second they come.” Peter nodded quickly. Matt stood up, holding his cane with both hands. You pushed yourself off the wall and walked over to Matt and Foggy.

“Thank you so much for coming, Matt,” May said, shaking his hand. They had met plenty of times before. May was practically your mom and Matt and you were as serious as they came.

“Of course. You all have my number.”

“And mine,” Foggy said.

“Matt, can I have a moment?” He nodded.

“I’ll meet you out there, Foggy,” he said. Foggy patted his back and gave you a nod.

“It was really nice to see you, Y/N. I’d be nice to see you more often, you should come down to the office. Karen is like an actual partner now.”

“Did she go to law school?”

“No but we have that power. We think.” You laughed and watched as Foggy left. You and Matt moved to a more private corner of May’s apartment. You had learned to study his face while he looked forward, trying to gauge his emotions. He seemed closed off, reserved. Lawyer mode.

“Thank you for coming,” you said, unsure how to say what you wanted to say.

“You were right to call me. This is a tough spot for Peter and there’s a lot of press. He’s going to need good representation.” You nodded, crossing your arms.

“How are you?” you questioned, unable to help yourself. “I just mean…this could have just as easily been you.” None of your family members knew Matt was Daredevil, not even Peter. It was a secret you kept.

“It won’t be me.”

“You said that when we were dating and I still don’t believe you,” you said, laughing dryly. “Peter had the Avengers in his corner and it still got out. I just don’t want it to be you next,” you said.

“It won’t be me,” he promised.

“You don’t know that.” You grabbed his hand. He rubbed your hand, involuntarily. “I still care about you Matty, no matter what you wanna say.” “Karen says you still talk?”

“Yeah. She gives me every Daredevil article before it’s published.” He smiled slyly, facing so he was looking behind you.

“We broke up so you would stop worrying about me.”

“You broke up with me,” you corrected. “I never agreed to stop worrying about you.” Matt shook his head gently, adjusting his footing.

“It would do you good to stop.” “Are you saying you don’t miss me too?” It was a long shot but you had been thinking a lot about it. Matt dated girls because he was charming and didn’t like to be alone too long. Was that all you were to him?

“Your heart rates going faster.”

“So is yours,” you guessed. He chuckled dryly. You put your hand on his chest and felt the even beating. “Hypothetically.”

“I can’t put you in any more danger.”

“I’m already in danger!”

“Everything okay in here?” Peter asked, stepping inside the room you were standing in. You nodded, brushing your hand over your forehead.

“It’s okay Peter.”

“Please don’t make my lawyer hate us,” he said innocently. You smiled softly.

“She couldn’t if she tried,” Matt promised. Peter slowly backed out of the room. You looked back up at him.

“Come with me back to the office. It’s safer there for you anyway. I can protect you there.”

“Matt I won’t go if you say you don’t miss me.” “Of course I miss you,” he told you finally, frustration in his voice. You breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay. Let’s go.” You walked past him out of the room. You put your shoes back on and grabbed your jacket. “I’m going with Matt back to the office to help him with Peter’s paperwork. I’ll be back tomorrow to check you guys haven’t been arrested,” you called around the house. May raised an eyebrow, taking advantage of Matt’s blindness to mouth ‘things good?’ suggestively. You rolled your eyes and put on your jacket.

“I’ll see you all soon,” Matt said.

You let him lead you down the stairs and he linked your arms once you got to the large crowd of people outside. You fought your way to the car where Foggy was already sitting in the driver's seat. You got in the backseat. He turned around, eyebrows raised.

“I see we adopted another lawyer who is not a lawyer,” he said.

“It’s safer for her at the office,” Matt said smoothly. Foggy nodded slowly.

“If that’s what you want to tell yourself,” he muttered. He started the car.

===

You walked behind the two of them into the office. Karen looked up from her desk.

“I thought we might be picking up a stray,” she said, clicking her pen against the papers, making a soft thud noise. She had her hair up in a bun. She looked a little more rough around the edges then the last time you saw her in person. “I’m glad you’re here.” “Me too,” you admitted. “What can I do to help?” “Sit and look pretty, like I can see you,” Matt muttered, taking off his jacket. You rolled your eyes.

“Matthew.”

“You can come help me with Peter’s paperwork. I imagine your brother will be getting arrested here soon. I’m glad you’re here so they can’t arrest you too just for being there.” He let out a sigh, settling into the office.

“Can we just admit you were lonely without her?” Karen teased.

“Oh so lonely,” Foggy joked. Matt flushed, shaking his head.

“They’re exaggerating.” Despite that he grabbed your hand. You raised an eyebrow, trying to focus on keeping your heart beat slow so he didn’t pick up on your nerves. “Lead me to the office?” You rolled your eyes.

“You can’t play that card on me.”

Despite that you led him to the interview room. Karen and Foggy shared a knowing glance.

Marvel Tag List: @dpaccione, @demonchick1, @karasong, @elisaa-shelby, @lov3vivian, @russian-soft-bitch, @alexxavicry, @valentina-luvs-u, @demigirl-with-problems, @chaotic-fangirl-blog, @caswinchester2000, @mads-weasley

[f10werfae]

Sleeping Patient

pairing: Chris Evans x Doctor!Reader

Summary: After a tough time at work Y/n goes through another episode of sleep paralysis, just when she thought it was getting better. Chris takes it upon himself to go over the top to solve this, as usual.

- Requests are open!

Likes, Comments and Re-blogs are appreciated♥️

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(Y/n's P.O.V)

It’s a well known fact Doctors do not have the best work-life balance, and it’s for good reason. For years even when I was training as a junior doctor, things like sleep paralysis was a constant nightmare, quite literally. It usually happens a couple of times over a range of months, so luckily not daily.

“Y/n you should really head home girl, you’ve been up for 36 hours straight. That’s not ok” Steph groaned taking the clipboard out of my hands, working in the emergency department did that to you. Days of just staying up late, nights of restless work and reports.

“But the patient in room 305-“

“Calm down girl, I know your man must be waitin for ya at home. Don’t drive home, i’ll call you a cab okay?” With one ring of a cab, Steph handed me my coat and duffle bag from the locker room and stood with me outside to wait for my taxi.

“Are you sure you’ll be alright tonight-“

“Yes hun, go home and relax, I know you’re off for the rest of the week”

Nodding my head I stepped into the yellow cab that had just arrived, telling the driver my address I just let my head fall onto the rain stricken window. God I had forgotten what it was like to finally be in a somewhat peaceful environment, no more ringing sounds in my ears, or the constant rush of adrenaline.

(Chris' P.O.V)

Getting off the phone from one of Y/n's coworkers Steph, I stood outside of our front door, sitting on the chair on our porch.

My poor girl has done nothing but work tirelessly these past few weeks, especially with COVID on the rise again. With me being away for multiple projects this year, like Ghosted, I knew she used work as a distraction from staying alone in the house.

I walked down the path once I saw the yellow cab pull up, handing the driver some bills, I opened Y/n's door who was clearly dozing off in the back. Looking at the cute sleepy look on her face, I took her bag from her and basically carry her into the house.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

“ ‘m sorry Chris, i’m such a mess” She mumbled as I set her to lay down on the bed, her head lifting slightly while I took off her shoes and started taking off her work scrubs.

“Don’t apologise sweetheart, i’m so proud of ya” I cooed watching a sleepy smile grow on her face as she somehow found the energy to crawl under the covers. Pulling back my side of the covers I slipped in beside her, her body slowly moving towards mine and wrapping itself around me.

Within seconds Y/n was knocked out on my chest, light snores leaving her lips, her face looking much more rested and calmer. Deciding It was still too early to sleep, I turned on the bedroom T.V and switched to some random channel for some background noise.

(Y/n's P.O.V)

'What the fuck? Not again’

I felt a continuous weight pushing down on me from somewhere, my eyes half cracked open yet I couldn’t speak or move. Sleep paralysis.

For years I had continuous spurts of sleep paralysis episodes, recently not really but I knew it was coming at some point.

Moving my eyes about I could see Chris was awake yet his attention was on something else in the room. Then the worst part started, a dark figure appeared in the dark corner of our room, it was always faceless and resembled a shadow. It never moved or anything, just stayed there silently torturing me as I lay there helpless.

I felt my breathing start to quicken out of my nose, the feeling of anxiety bubbling up horribly in my chest.

(Chris' P.O.V)

Mindlessly watching the screen, I felt a major shift in Y/n's breathing. Looking down I saw her pretty eyes dart around the room crazily,

“You awake Y/n/n?”

No reply.

I repeated my question only to see her eyes meet mine, it instantly giving my chills as I watched them tear up. Shaking her a bit to no avail, I now sat up and shook her a tiny bit harder; then all I heard was her breaking into wrecked sobs. Her breathing was all over the place as she held onto my shirt tightly, her face hidden.

“B-baby what the hell just happened? Are you alright? Did ya have a nightmare?”

“Water” She croaked out gasping for air,

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

(No one’s P.O.V)

“Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I’m pretty sure t-that was another episode of sleep paralysis” Y/n breathed out handing back the cup of water for Chris to set back onto the bedside table.

“You’ve had this before?”

“I mean not recently, it was before we got together it was really bad, so I thought it had gotten better” Y/n shrugged tugging up the covers to her neck

“Bub why didn’t you tell me? You know I would have helped you with anything?”

“I don’t know I didn’t see it as a big deal, plus I know how busy you’ve been I don’t wanna add onto that ya know?”

“Y/n what did I say when we first got together?”

“I’m your number one priority” Y/n breathed out feeling Chris' arms wrap around her even more, both of their bodies smushed together in a bundle of blankets.

“Will ya sing for me?” Y/n asked, with Chris starting to him ‘The Carpenters - Close to You’ into her ears softly, his large hands rubbing up and down her back gently. Y/n's eyes were still tired with sleep, even with the episode she was desperate to fall back asleep again. That sense of happiness filling her when she realised she was off for the next four days, and Chris was too.

“Sleep tight baby”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Chris hummed holding onto Y/n's hands tenderly as they sat outside the bed store, mattresses filling the furniture store they were currently at. Reading up on sleep paralysis, Chris read that one of the main ways to help was to ensure a good night’s sleep. With a rich man like Chris by your side, he insisted (forced) that you actually buy a whole new mattress for your guys' bed.

“Chris we don’t actually need a whole new mattress”

“Shush honey, after we fixed your working hours, I am making sure your bed is practically heaven” He said pressing a finger to Y/n’s lips to stop her from talking, standing up when a store attendant headed their way

“N' it means we get to christen the thing, any way we want” Chris whispered bending down to Y/n, his fingertips dancing over the small of her back.

———

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