#near every single time he'd catch us sitting and be like My Literal Child In Christ You Have Bricks For Shoulders

[todayisafridaynight]

stiff shoulders

[iv-aur-y]

'𝑔;- their roommate

prompt ;; if you were their roommate

characters ;; venti, childe, diluc, albedo & aether

'𝒶𝑒𝓉𝒽𝑒𝓇;-

'1;- His sister is always over, she hangs around all the time, and if not then Aether's at Lumine's dorm. They're basically never apart so expect to see her stuff littered around your shared apartment.

'2;- Really helpful. Will lend a hand with just about anything, even going as far as listening to you rant about your problems. Won't expect the same back, however if you do do the same, he'll be super happy. Practically floating.

'3;- He's probably the most normal roommate out of everyone from this list. You both have your laughs, your arguments, and well, just normal stuff.

'𝒶𝓁𝒷𝑒𝒹𝑜;-

'1;- Albedo is quite literally your personal live-in tutor. Weekly study dates usually take place on Saturdays, so everything you learned over the week doesn't just disappear, or so he says.

'2;- Generally an organized person, however sometimes the artist side of him gets the better of him. His drawings are most likely to end up everywhere, and be pinned up on walls, or the fridge.

'3;- Will leave notes tacked up somewhere visible for you to see if he's gone somewhere, or you have to take care of something for him. Sometimes will even leave notes saying he's left breakfast on the counter, maybe even that he's packed an extra lunch for you, or so.

'4;- Won't let you in his room at all costs, no matter whatever stupid excuse he has: "Wait! Uh... My room is flooded because of the people above us." You two lived on the highest floor of the building.

"Albedo?" you called, it was getting late. Both of you had the same class in the morning, so you two would often leave together in the mornings, but today he was taking longer than expected. Having been waiting for more than 10 minutes you decided to knock on his door again. "Albedo, we're late!"

Eyes widened at the sound of loud thud, "Alright! I'm coming in!" you snapped, swinging the door open. Frozen in awe of the state of his room, there were scrap pieces of paper tacked up on his walls.

There wasn't a single place where you couldn't see a drawing. A grunt pulled you back from the stupor of your thoughts. Eyes sauntering over to Albedo, who was on the floor near his bed, cheeks flushed.

Rushing over, you immediately helped him up asking what was wrong. Turns out he was sick with a bad fever. Albedo rarely got sick, heck you've never thought he'd ever catch a cold, ever! But when he got sick, it would seem that he'd be can't-even-get-out-of-bed sick.

[Name] decided to just take the day off, staying home to help nurse her dorm mate back to health, instead. Later that day, after having fed the sick teen warm soup she asked something that was running in her mind since the morning, "You know, upon close inspection of your drawings I realized they looked familiar. Are they all drawings of me?"

Albedo was never good at lying so he decided against it, "Yes." She hummed, "Do you mind?" she shook her head. "I think they're really good, I can see the effort put into it. Plus you make me look so nice, how can I refuse, then? But, why me, of all people and things in our apartment, in the world. Why'd you draw me specifically?" He averted his gaze, "It's just that you're so beautiful, that your figure is so fascinating. I just can't stop myself."

'5;- Klee, his cousin, is over sometimes. She can be a bit of handful, so you're often playing with her, or engaging her with something while Albedo is elsewhere. As a result, you've unexpectedly gotten close with his family.

'𝒸𝒽𝒾𝓁𝒹𝑒;-

'1;- Sleeps on the couch because his room is too messy, though at times, he somehow manages to even end up in your room, sprawled out onto the floor.

'2;- He compensates for messing up the living room by helping out with work around the apartment. You guys alternate chores every week, from laundry to dishes, and dusting, or whatever.

'3;- Insists, quite persistently, that you two sit down and have at least one meal together per day. ++ He makes good food, so how can you refuse?

'4;- Personal chauffeur, he'll drive you around if needed, or asked of. Generally helpful in that manner, and will even run errands if asked.

'𝒹𝒾𝓁𝓊𝒸;-

'1;- You never see him. He gets up quite early, and returns home freakishly late. Rarely comes out of his room when he is home. You see his brother more often than Diluc himself, despite having shared an apartment with you.

'2;- NEVER leaves dishes in the sink, it irks him. Expects you'll do the same, if you don't he'll give you a blank look, and a small pout. Kinda cute, no gonna lie.

'3;- Quite organized, to be honest. You've been in his room a couple of times, and it's really neat. Wonder how he has the time to clean it to perfection.

"Hello?" you called, and he flinched. It had been approximately 3 weeks since you had last seen your roommate, so this was quite the shock. "Good evening," Diluc murmured, avoiding your gaze but you stood firm in the hallway.

"I was going to make something for myself, would you like some?" he shook his head, "No-" and his stomach rumbled.

[Name] thought not much of it, and then nodded, "Okay, I'll make some then." Diluc's cheeks rosied, averting his gaze. "You go freshen up, I'll call you when it's done. Oh! You're not allergic to anything, are you?"

'𝓋𝑒𝓃𝓉𝒾;-

'1;- Really cheery, and y'all become friends in an instance. Somehow became friends with your friends, and is now also a part of your friend group.

'2;- Usually prances around either shirtless or buck-naked, no middle ground, he has no common sense whatsoever.

'3;- Lazy ASF. will not do any chores, only if you hide his laptop or something. Venti will constantly beg you to make him food, honestly man's just a liability now. A child.

'4;- He drags just about anyone into your home, as such you've made many new acquaintances by living with him, like Xiao, Zhongli, heck, even Paimon!

'5;- Will most probably barge into your room with a pillow, asking to have a pillow fight, if not a pillow maybe a board game, or his switch. Really childish when it comes to losing!

'6;- Broke. Very broke, like worse than in-debt-college-student broke. Constantly asking to lend some money, and if not then just about anything too. Like your hoodie or something, I swear at least once, you'll find him trying on your bra or something.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 8

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER EIGHT

Bucky entered the bar wearing a neat, black expensive suit, a Rolex sticking out of his left sleeve. He unfastened two buttons by his waist and flung both sides of the suit in the air before sitting down on the stool. He rolled up his sleeves, his lean forearms in plain sight under the incandescent lights hanging by the counter.

Your eyes lingered longer than they should have so you shook your head and ignored his gaze, getting back to work.

"Fancy seeing you back here, James." Out of nowhere, a slight giggle came out from your mouth, pushing the tap handle up and briskly pushing Bucky's hand away. Your eyes found his, whilst you waited for the liquid to fill the beer mug. "I'll get back on you later. I have to give this beer to that son of a bitch over there."

You glanced at the man from earlier who was still giving you a death-like stare.

Bucky responded with a short chuckle and waited for you to finish. You opened your mouth to call Nick but decided against it, calling for Nat instead, who was holding a tray of chicken wings. Nat usually only had three shifts a week but since you were understaffed this week, she had the decency to help out.

"By the way, is Peter here?" Bucky asked.

You glanced at Peter's briefcase. "Yes, he came here straight from an urgent work thing. He just needed to go to the toilet."

"Good, good, that's good." He kept nodding his head, staring at absolutely nothing at all.

You waved your hand in front of his face. "Bucky? You okay?"

"Yeah, no, I'm good." He answered but you weren't convinced. He looked at Peter's briefcase and the beer bottle beside it. "Is that Peter's drink?"

The realization dawned on you once those words slipped out of his mouth. You pursed your lips then nodded. "I tried talking him out of it before but he never listened. You know how Peter is. Stubborn as a damn rock."

"That he is."

"Are you going to talk to him about it?"

"I think so, but not now. I think now's not the right time." He replied. "So, how about that drink, doll?" He asked, swiftly changing the subject.

You ignored the shivers starting to slither on your skin when you heard his little nickname for you. You have been called other nicknames in the bar, including doll, but not one had an effect on you.

Except Bucky.

While grabbing a glass on the counter, you continued to stare at him you felt absolutely nothing. "I feel like you're more of an old-fashioned guy." you commented.

Bucky didn't say anything but a smile formed on his pink plump lips as you made him a glass of old-fashioned. Besides, you can never go wrong with the original cocktail.

Once you were finished, he held the glass near his face, his nose hovering above the drink.

"You know, I've had so many old-fashioned. Smells nothing like this." Then, he took a tiny sip, released a puff of breath and clicked his tongue. "But damn, if it isn't the best old-fashioned I ever had."

You suppressed a giggle. Instead, you smirked at him. "You're not the only one who can make a mean drink, Bucky Barnes."

He chuckled and went on to say that his was still better since it was his own drink and not a classic one. You weren't much of the condescending type so you agreed with him. You could never make your own drink; only the ones you've learned from Steve from the past year.

By the time Bucky devoured the whole drink, Peter had arrived. He was so loud that everyone in the bar turned their heads towards Peter who practically jumped on Bucky from a feet from where he was standing.

"Parker, keep it the fuck down." You scolded Peter like how a mother scolds a child. But with the curses.

Peter gave you an apologetic look as he sat down on the high stool. "Oh, wait, guess who came by the office today," before he could even let you guess, he jumped straight to the answer, "Wanda."

Your actions stopped the moment you heard Wanda's name but moved on eventually. You ignored Peter's eyes while you wiped the counter table, even though it was already squeaky clean. "Maximoff?"

"Yes, Wanda Maximoff! Our team got her as the head photographer for the clothing line account we landed on." He stated.

"Who's Wanda?" Bucky interrupted, curious about the whole thing.

"She's this friend of y/n's who used to tag along with her almost everyday in NYU." Peter replied. "She's also a photographer."

Peter went on about the whole clothing line account for a few minutes. It was mostly about how he and his team landed a "cool photographer" like Wanda. Sunday was the only time Wanda was free so they took an opportunity to talk to her.

Must be nice to be so busy all the damn time.

Peter proceeded to talk so highly of her and all the work she'd done in just a shy of a  year in the industry. If you remembered correctly, the only time Peter and Wanda ever spoke to one another was when Wanda came to borrow something of yours and asked Peter if you were home. Now, he talked about her as if he'd known her for years.

Your eyes lazily wandered to the photographs you've shown Bucky this morning on the wall. Suddenly, it was eerily silent inside your head. No jukebox noise, no television noise, no rowdy noise; nothing.

It had been three years and you haven't accomplished anything that could fill your heart's content. No photos in magazines, not even on the damn streets. They were just here on the bar, camouflaged among the walls.

When your eyes found Peter and Bucky's, Peter had just finished his little story with Wanda starting to work with them for the next few weeks. "This is the biggest account my team has ever gotten. I am so excited!"

"I'm glad everything has been working out for you, Peter." Bucky placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, patting him.

"I just want to be like you, Buck."

Bucky glanced at you for a second. He let go of Peter's shoulder. He didn't respond to him. He just offered Peter a smile.

The two talked the whole night while you were pulled in every direction as more people came. You were making drinks left and right. The people by the counter had their eyes set on somewhere else. The television right above the counter. The billiards table. The jukebox. People dancing by the jukebox. Good-looking ladies being jeered at by single men, and vice-versa.

But only a pair of eyes was watching you move around: Bucky's.

You had caught him staring quite a few times the whole four hours you were working at the bar even though he was conversing with Peter. The whole time making and handing drinks to people, you kept thinking if Peter and Bucky were talking about you. Usually, you would eavesdrop in other people's conversations — of course, these were strangers. You didn't think you could do that to both Peter and Bucky. You shut your ears whenever you'd come near them but it wasn't as if they could be heard, anyway. You could barely hear the conversation with the television on, the jukebox playing and all the people buzzing in the bar — but you did catch some words like "Stark", "White Wolf", "home", and some country names.

All of a sudden, you stopped obsessing on the subject of their conversation. Your mind was then wrapped around with thoughts on Wanda and how, in just one year, she had already accomplished so much in her career whilst you were still here, juggling two jobs. You weren't the jealous type but the more you thought about it, the more those ugly feelings grew. Your photos on the damn walls were not much of a help. They just reminded you that you were a failure, that this was what you get for being a mediocre photographer and for settling for a menial job.

But you had to do what you needed to do in order to survive in this cruel world.

You did try and apply for some big advertising and business companies while working in the bar but luck was never on your side. There were always better ones, or ones who had connections. The latter one was just one of the many reasons why you hated big corporations.

"Who's the rich guy?" Whisking you from your train of thoughts was Nat. She was holding a tray full of canned beers and some fries, and caught up with you.

You walked towards the booth together.

"That's Bucky. Peter's stepbrother." You and Nat gave the food and beverage to the people in the booth.

"He'd been eyeing you for the past few hours." She hugged her tray on her chest as you walked back to the counter. "And you know what I think, y/n?"

"Nat — "

"He wants a piece of you."

You and Nat weren't as close as people would think you were. You only hung out in the workplace. And by hang out, you meant talking (even gossiping) while working.

"Please, he's so much older than me."

"That's what makes it hotter, dumbass."

"When was it ever hot?"

"Duh, those lingering stares he'd been giving you." She raised an eyebrow, stopping at the edge of the counter. "I'm telling you, he wants you."

"He's Peter's stepbrother, Nat. It's inappropriate!"

"It's not like he's his biological brother. And besides, I think it's..." She leaned in and whispered. "Thrilling."

You rolled your eyes. "And I think you're delusional."

"Think whatever you want to think." Nat chuckled. "But the facts are right there. He wants to get a taste of you, and you of him. Ciao, bitch."

And with that, she spun around, her red hair lost in the sea of strangers.

By the time your shift was ending, you removed the apron and hung it on the coat rack near Steve's office at the back. Your instinct was to go to Steve's office and let him know that your shift was over but you just remembered that he was in Rhode Island with his family. You lost the grip on the knob then went back to the counter and tapped Peter's shoulder, interrupting his conversation with Bucky.

"Already?" Peter asked in disbelief. "Wow, it's true what they say. Time flies by when people are catching up."

You squinted your eyes at him. "I literally have never heard someone say that, Parker."

"Really, never?"

"Never." You replied, opening the passthrough. "Now, let's go."

"Wait," Peter said, "I have to go to the toilet real quick."

"Our apartment is right above this bar. You can just go there."

"Sorry, y/n. This can't wait." He sped towards the toilet, practically flying. You sighed and took his seat, facing Bucky.

"Hey, doll." He said in a voice that could make any woman swoon and fall on the floor. Bucky's voice was raspier than you remembered, breath with a hint of whiskey mixed with beer. "Haven't spoken to you in a while."

"Sunday nights can be busy as well."

"So, I've seen." He hummed. "This is your everyday life, huh?"

"Except Mondays. We're closed on Mondays. And except when I have some photography gig." You replied then whispered the next part: "Which I haven't been getting lately."

"Isn't Sunday," he laughed, "supposed to be a rest day?"

"In our bible, it's Monday."

Before Bucky could even speak, Peter came up behind you and wrapped his arms around your shoulders. "If you just accepted that job offer at our company, we would've been working together, y/n."

You playfully shrugged him off. "You were thinking about that while peeing? Weirdo. Plus, Wanda has a lot more experience than I have."

"But — "

"Come on, let's go. You're drunk." You lifted off his arm and turned towards Bucky. "You take him. He's a bit hard to handle when he's this drunk."

Bucky walked ahead, guiding Peter towards the door. Before you could even follow the two, Nat patted your shoulder. You spun around, meeting her suggestive eyes. Without even a second thought, she pulled your tight v-top even lower and spilled some drink on your exposed cleavage.

"Nat, what the damn hell!" You hissed.

"Trust me on this, babe." She scrunched up her nose. "Go get some rich dick." She twirled your body so easily then slapped your ass. You wanted to shout at Nat but you didn't want to cause a scene in the bar and the moment had already passed as she disappeared amongst the crowd once again.

You caught up towards Bucky and Peter, opening the door for them.

The walk towards the apartment unit was tedious and was accompanied by Peter's hilarious commentaries about every little thing he saw on the way. As Bucky's arm was getting sore, you helped lift Peter up as the elevator doors closed behind you.

You felt Bucky's eyes on you as you lifted Peter's right arm, slinging it across your shoulders. You came face to face with Bucky, his eyes somewhere underneath your neck. You cleared my throat to get his attention.

"Uh," he stammered, "you got some alcohol on your... uh..."

"Oh, yeah. Don't mind that. Some idiot spilled on me." Nat really was some idiot.

A genius idiot.

Peter immediately hugged his pillow once we placed him on his bed. You leaned in and kissed his forehead good night. "I hope you have a heavy hangover tomorrow, Parker."

You turned around only to be blocked by Bucky's towering figure. "Sorry." You mumbled, looking down on your feet.

"It's alright, doll." He replied, making some space for you to walk on.

You headed towards the kitchen to grab a glass of water and Bucky followed suit, tossing his suit jacket on the couch as if he was living in your place.

"You should go get changed." He spoke.

You rolled your eyes, finishing up your water.

"Okay, daddy." Of course, you meant it as a joke as it sounded so much funnier in your head — not so much said out loud.

Bucky's eyes lit up with curiosity, walking towards you. "What did you say?"

"Nothing." You replied quickly. "I absolutely said nothing."

He just continued to stare as he strode towards you. You just stayed frozen in your place, unable to process what was about to happen. You backed away from Bucky as he neared you, your back hitting the fridge. He stopped right in front of you. He looked so much different when you first saw him. His eyes had become darker and stared with so much intensity and intention.

"You know, you're something else." He licked his lower lip.

"I don't know what you mean, Bucky."

He traced your jawline with his finger and tilted your chin up. "I can't quite put my finger on you, doll, but you're really something else."

You weren't ready for something to happen so you walked as quickly as you could towards your bedroom, locked the door behind me and leaned against it. Your breathing was quite uneven and your heart thudded like fast bullets on the ground.

You looked down on your sticky chest that reeked of vodka. You pursed your lips together. "Natasha Romanoff, you son of a bitch."