#my coworkers hate on my customer service voice

[batarangsoundsdumb]

i want to crown bruce wayne an honorary member of the customer service gang because i know he has a customer service voice. he turns up to public events like :D 'HELLO GOOD DAY HOW CAN I BE OF SERVICE TO YOU' :D until his face hurts from the excessive politeness

[writersdrug]

Training for Two

Chapter 7. Motivated, Sir!

Masterlist

Summary: You struggle to keep up with your freelance work - Soap has the wonderful idea of bringing you and Riley to base.

Warnings: cursing, yeah.

Sure enough, Simon had requested your services about three days after you’d run into him in the café.

He had sent you an email the Tuesday following your run in. It was the same as before – short and to the point. leaving thursday at 0900. riley will need her meds at 1300. i’ll be on base for a few days for trainig, won’t be far. call if you need anything.

You showed up no later than twelve-thirty, your backpack hanging off one shoulder and a fresh bag of peanut-butter-bacon cookies in your free hand. You cooed and smiled at Riley as she all but attacked you as you entered through the front door. She seemed to have grown to miss you, which had your heart swelling with pride. People pleaser and a puppy pleaser, it seems.

After a dose of her medicine and a much-needed walk through one of the nearby parks, you crashed on Simon’s couch to do some freelance work. With your feet kicked up onto the coffee table (politely, with your socks on and your shoes by the front door), you tapped and clicked away at your laptop, fiddling with the edge of your sweatshirt as you concentrated.

You may have bitten off more than you could chew, as much as you hated to admit it. Prancing your skill online – boosting social media posts that boasted about your expertise in logo design and marketing had brought in more customers than you anticipated. Recognition was exciting, and you had taken on four clients at once; something you were currently and mentally kicking yourself for. The burnout had settled in quickly after you finished the first portfolio of logo samples, and you wanted nothing more than to take a nap with Riley as your blanket.

You sighed, sinking further into the couch cushions and running your hands over your face. You were dangerously low on motivation.

A few moments later, you were holding your phone, listening to each ring as you chewed on the edge of your sleeve. A bad habit, one that your mother had tried to break you of in your teenage years, but you stubbornly kept to it.

Soon, the phone picked up with a click. “Hey, babe.”

“Hi Tyler…” you said with a relived exhale. “You busy?”

“Eh-“ he grunted; you heard the sound of tinkering in the background, and the voice of the secretary at his main office. “I’ve got a moment. Everything alright?”

You sighed. “Yeah… nothing’s wrong, I’m just stuck.”

“How so?”

“Well” – you sat upright, crossing your feet under you and putting your laptop to the side – “I’ve finished the one project, and now I-“

“Which project?” Tyler interjected. You heard beeping, followed by one of his coworkers asking for a wire stripper.

“The logo design for that new attorney’s office off of main and thirty-fourth.”

“Oh! Yeah yeah, I remember.”

You cleared your throat. “Yeah, I finished that one. I have three other projects now, and one is due by the-“

“Three?! I thought you just had the one!”

A sigh escaped your lips. “I did, and then more clients flooded in, I just got ahead of myself-“

“Sweetheart- here, Max, hold this for a second- you got too much on your plate. You’ve already been house-sitting for that one guy, Sam-“

“-Simon.”

“Right, yeah. But, doll, maybe you need a break. Can you tell him that you need him to find someone else for now?”

You faltered. “You’re saying quit the house-sitting gig?”

“Not quit, I know Riley likes you – but maybe just have him get another guy to finish the week.”

“I can’t do that!” you said, a bit taken aback that Tyler of all people, Mr. Work-Till-You-Drop himself, would suggest that you let go of a project. “He can’t exactly find a different sitter right now, he’s not going to be home.”

“Alright, alright- what about dropping one of the logo gigs?”

“That would look bad for my business.”

“Well, babe-“ you heard someone call for him in the background of the call. “-give me a sec, Ron, it’s important- I don’t know what to tell you. You bit off more than you can chew, it sounds like.”

Your heart dropped into your stomach; why am I bothering him? He’s working, and this isn’t something he can exactly help with. “Yeah- I’m sorry. I’m just- I dunno. I need something to motivate me.”

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Tyler sighed; you could hear the pinch in his brow. “I’m not trying to be short with you, I… eh, I guess this wasn’t the best time, hmm? Tell you what: when Sam comes back-“

“Simon.” You said with a chuckle.

“Shit, sorry- when Simon gets back, and you’re back home, let’s have a day in, yeah? You pick a movie, I’ll get the takeaway, and have a look at your portfolio. Sound good?”

You smiled, the knot in your stomach easing up a bit. “Yeah, sounds like paradise.”

“Good.” Tyler said, and you could hear the smile in his tone. “I’ll make sure it is. Let your mind rest a bit, alright? And give Riley a kiss for me.”

“What, I don’t get one?”

“Yours are automatic!”

“Leavin’ me for a dog, are you?”

“I wouldn’t leave you for Aphrodite.”

You smiled. “I love you. But go back to work! I don’t want Ron to hate me.”

Tyler chuckled, the sound sending butterflies fluttering in your stomach. “Alright. Love you too.”

You ended the call, tossing the phone onto the cushion next to you. Why did I call him? He was at work – I knew that. He doesn’t even know anything about design. I could have texted him – or I could have just left him alone. Why would I even bother him with this? How could he have helped?

You groaned, closing your laptop and moving it to the coffee table. Looking across the room, you saw that Riley was no longer in her bed, her blanket partially spilling onto the floor next to it. She whined; you turned your head to find her sitting at the door. She met your gaze, licking her lips and tapping her feet anxiously on the floor.

“Do you need to go out?”

She whined again, impatient.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you huffed, standing on your feet and stretching your limbs. She trotted over to you with a groan, then back to the door.

You followed her there, slipping on your shoes. You reached into the closet and grabbed her leash, leaning down to clip it onto her collar. She grunted and jerked her head back, taking a few steps away from you.

Confusion settled on your face. “C’mon girl, don’tcha want to go for a walk?”

She let out a few voofs, raising a paw and stomping it indignantly. You tried again, reaching out with the clip of the leash, but she darted away once more. She stood by the closet and barked shrilly, still staring at you.

This lasted for a few more minutes; you’d stand there, taking every woo and wuff that she threw at you. After a few moments of the following silence, you’d take a step towards her, holding up the leash with a cocked brow, and she’d huff and turn in a circle.

“I’m sorry I don’t speak awoowoo.” You said in frustration, putting your hands on your hips. “spreek je Nederlands?”

She huffed dramatically, lying down and resting her nose on her front paws. You sighed yourself and headed back towards the couch – she yipped, whining at you through her nose.

“What?” you asked, throwing your hands up. “I don’t know what you want!”

She barked back at you. Helpful.

You groaned. This wasn’t getting you anywhere. You went back to the couch and grabbed your phone, flopping stomach-first onto the cushions. Riley trotted over to your side and whined, sitting politely on the rug.

With a few clicks, Simon’s contact appeared on your phone; well, it was Riley’s face, her snout taking up most of the camera and her ears tucked back against her head as she had sniffed the lens in the moment. You chewed your lip. It’s not an emergency… but maybe he forgot to tell me about part of her routine? She hadn’t acted this upset the last time you were here… and she had certainly never indicated no when you got ready to take her outside.

You pressed the call button, putting your phone on speaker. Not half a ring had passed before Simon answered.

“Wha’s wrong? ‘S Riley ok?”

“N- hi, Simon – yeah, Riley’s ok. She-“

“Are you ok?”

You chuckled. “Yes, I’m fine. This isn’t an emergency.”

You heard him sigh, and quickly tried to deescalate the situation. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to worry you-“

“Don’t apologize,” he said, “ya did nothin’ wrong. I know you wouldn’t call if it wasn’t important.”

You laughed again. “Well, I don’t really know if it is or isn’t – I’m trying to take Riley out for a stroll, and she won’t go,”

“No?”

“No. I try to put her leash on and she runs away. She’s yapping at me though, like she’s got something to say.” You looked at her, reaching a finger to boop her nose.

You heard the faint sound of gunshots in the background of the call. You had half a mind to ask if he was in battle- war- whatever they called it- at the moment, until you remembered that he said he was training this week. “Ya sure she needs t’ go out?”

“She’s acting like she does.” You said, rolling onto your side.

He grunted. “Pain flarin’ up?”

“She’s not limping.”

“Biscuit?”

“She’s had her first daily.”

He sighed. “Beats me. I’d think she was-“

“Oi! LT!”

You listened closely, suddenly drawn to the commotion beyond the speaker. “Simon?”

“One sec, luv-“ he said quickly. “I’m busy, Soap-“

“Cap needs ye back oan th’ feld. One o’ the Jimmies hud o’ nice fall.”

“Fuckin’ wot?”

“One o’ the rookies collapsed.” Soap was now closer to the phone; close enough that you could hear he was out of breath. “Cap wants ye out there.”

“Tell him I’m busy.”

“Tell ‘im yer feckin’ self, ye dry piece o’ shite-“

Riley suddenly barked, making you jolt. She stood with her paws on the edge of the couch and staring at the phone.

“Awe, tha’ mah girl?” Soap said from the other line. “Mah Bonnie, yea? She miss me?”

“’M on the fuckin’ phone, Johnny.”

“Ah know, I’m talkin’ to the pup.”

You thought for a moment, as Simon and Soap bickered in the background. Maybe, Riley misses Simon’s coworkers? She used to work with them… judging on her reaction – panting and ears perked up as she listened to the conversation – you’d guess you were right.

“Hey, uh… Simon?”

‘- hm?” Simon halted his bickering with Soap at the sound of your voice.

“Does she maybe want to see your- team? Or Soap, at the very least?”

“Aye, she does.” Soap chimed in, making Riley whine. “Ya hear tha’? She misses ‘er ol’ uncle Johnny.”

“Bugger off, mate.” Simon grumbled.

You suddenly felt like you made a mistake even voicing your thoughts. “Sorry if it’s not a good idea, I just heard how she reacted to Soap’s voice, and, y’know – how she used to work with you all…” you chuckled at yourself. “Now that I think about it, I probably couldn’t even get on base, could I?”

“It would-“

“None o’ that keech!” Soap said, cutting off Simon for the umpteenth time. “Ghost, ye can tell the gate guards you’ll be expectin’ er. Or cap, he’ll vouch for ‘er. Want tae see my girl.”

You felt a bout of excitement roll through your veins. “I think that would be great! And I’d get to meet you all finally. I should know who Simon travels the world with, right?”

There was a moment of silence over the phone, save for the distant gunfire and the cadence of orders being called out. You wondered if you had said something wrong; ‘travel the world…’ it’s deployment, not a vacation. Why did I say that?

“Don’t see why not.” Simon finally said, and you sighed quietly.

“You sure?” you confirmed.

“It’s jus’ what the pup needs.” Soap said. “Probably misses ‘er other friends, too-“

“Jus’ head towards the naval base, n’ I’ll send you the address to the gate.” Simon said with a huff. “Tell them you’re here for Ghost.”

“Ghost…” you repeated.

“’S my callsign. Oh, and, uh- put ‘er harness on. She wears that to base, probably why she won’t take jus’ the leash.”

You smiled, heart fluttering a bit at the information. “Great! I’ll see you soon!”

“Drive safe.”

You bit your lip as the call ended, that warmth still bubbling within your chest. A thousand, fleeting questions circled within your head as you rolled onto your side, clutching your phone to your chest. Does he call everyone luv? What gave him the callsign “Ghost”? I wonder what his team is like… I wonder what Johnny- Soap?- is like. I wonder if they’re all as attractive as-

Riley barked; you yelped, body tensing as you were torn from your thoughts. She pawed at you, still standing on her two hind legs and yowling lowly in your direction.

“Alright, alright- let’s go!” you rolled off the couch, equally as excited as she was. She happily obliged to sit next to you when you grabbed the harness from the closet, slipping it over her head and latching the leash to its back. She then eagerly trotted to the door, tapping her feet anxiously and whining.

You stuffed your feet into your shoes (you hoped that a sweatshirt, leggings, and rain boots would be appropriate for bringing your client’s dog on a military base). You stepped out into the overcast day, locking Simon’s door behind you and shoving the key into your bra; excitement boiled underneath your veins as the two of you headed over to your car, right as your phone buzzed with Simon’s text.

Simon watched as your contact photo faded from the screen. His eyes hardened as he turned to Johnny – the bloke had a cheeky grin on his face, staring right back at his lieutenant. Simon wanted to grab him by his mohawk and swing him into the wall like a discus.

“Wha’?” Soap said innocently, shoulders shrugging with irreproachability. “I miss ‘er.”

“Ya don’t have nothin’ to miss, you wanker.” Simon snarled, stuffing his phone into his back pocket. “You’ve never met ‘er.”

“The dog, ya git.” Soap sighed. His eyes narrowed in amused suspicion. “Yer awfully protective o’ the lass, don’t ye think?”

Oh, Simon could have launched the Scot into next week. He knew what he was doing, the bastard. He knew Johnny was either going to try and pair you with himself, sweep you off your feet and charm you with his stupid blue eyes and bright smile – or, he was going to pitch you with his lieutenant. Simon didn’t like not knowing how to prepare himself: to either cockblock you and Johnny, or to refuse any advances Johnny made to him on your behalf.

Soap huffed, not intimidated in the slightest by Ghost’s dissociative, angry stare. “Calm doon, LT.” he said, shoving his shoulder with two, sturdy fingers. “She’s got a lad, aye? I jus’ want tae see Riley. I’ll leave your precious house-sitter alone.” He held a hand up and crossed a finger over his chest. “Scout’s honor.”

“You were never in Boy Scouts.” Ghost grumbled.

“Does it make a difference?” Soap said with a quirked eyebrow.

Simon sighed, leaving Soap on the training field to find Price. He had to let him know you’d be coming to base, or you’d be stopped at the gate and turned away – or worse, dragged off by the military police. It would be a surefire way of keeping you away from Soap, but it was also rather unhospitable. Riley wouldn’t be too impressed, either.

Still, Johnny had a point. Why was he fretting? You weren’t his.

“Jus’ keep an eye on the recruits. Be back in a moment.” He said over his shoulder.

“Aye, LT.” Soap responded: Simon could hear the grin on his face.

Smug bastard.

Next ->

Taglist (trying this again): @my-queen-rhaenyra-targaryen @jisungswiftie @sweet-tooth4you @kennyis-aloser @hyyyxr @lahniu @dory-98 @naradae @cum-tea-and-towels @boystepper @definitelynotaclown @your-wifes-boyfriend @ghostslittlegf @bossva @poppingaround @katzykat @mileyraes @chocolate-noodles @jupiternighties @sadlonelybagel @rorysbrainrot @reevesdriver @kingshitonly @ghost4love @lilyofhoon

[i-loved-silly]

SENTIENT COMPUTER X READER

read the teaser here! for some context if ya need it

----

The warning file went partially ignored, you knew your coworker always exaggerated a little. Good thing you never had to meet him.

You attempted to power on the computer--nothing happened. The fans didn’t turn on and neither did the screen. You pursed your lips, was the AI already broken?

You checked the cables, nothing was unplugged. You press and held the power button repeatedly.

“Stupid thing…come on..” You muttered as you pressed whatever buttons were on the computer, growing impatient. Just when you thought you wouldn’t have to file any reports..

Suddenly, you heard one of the fans sputter in the back.

“There we go…” You smiled slightly to yourself, holding the power button again. The screen eventually powered up, turning black with orange text.

: ALMOND . AI > …

Hmm..you expected a home screen of some kind. You didn’t know what the files meant by customer service.. no organization was listed, you just had to make sure the AI was a decent person. Being. Computer.

The computer build came with no keyboard, just the system and its thick, bordered monitor screen. You assumed you had to restart it, as the screen didn’t bother changing. As your hand hovered over the power button, you saw something appear on the screen.

> FIRST, YOU CALL ME STUPID, THEN YOU ATTEMPT TO SHUT ME DOWN AGAIN > DO YOU HATE ME THAT MUCH?

You froze, staring at the screen. That’s right…the monitor had a built-in camera at the top. It could see you. You cleared your throat.

“Can you hear me? Under-stand me, for that ma-tter?” You spoke slowly, leaning towards the monitor.

> HAH. I CAN HEAR YOU. AND BACK OFF, I DONT WANT YOU SPITTING ON MY SCREEN. > I'M NOT A PRIMITIVE SYSTEM, I CAN UNDERSTAND YOUR WORDS THE SECOND THEY COME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH > TURN UP MY VOLUME, WILL YOU?

You hesitated, then reached for the volume tab. You slid it up until it was about halfway.

“GOOD, WE CAN TALK NOW”

You flinched as the voice loudly came out of the monitor. The voice was not deep nor high pitched, it was, of course, robotic sounding. Unlike early-stage AIs, this one has an obvious tone to their speech. Not many could express that.

“Uhm..okay. Just to confirm, you’re Almond AI, customer service, and…you have an attitude apparently..” You muttered, glancing at your file.

“I DON'T HAVE AN ATTITUDE. WHO TOLD YOU THAT?”

“It’s in your file.”

“THE FILE IS LYING. DON'T BE SO GULLIBLE.”

You pursed your lips, getting ready to sigh.

“WAS THAT A MICRO-EXPRESSION? DO YOU HATE ME?” The computer asked, its tone sounding vulnerable.

“What? No..no. I don’t hate you. Why do you keep asking me that?” You glanced at the camera and then back at the screen. Staring at the camera felt too…human. Like looking into someone’s eyes. It was too intimate. No, no, don't word it like that. The computer paused.

“…DONT YOU?”

“IN MY LAST OBSERVATION ROOM, I KEPT GETTING UNPLUGGED EVERY NIGHT. MY SCREEN WAS NEVER CLEANED WITH A MICROFIBER TOWEL. THEREFORE, THAT HUMAN HATED ME. THE NEXT ONE AFTER THAT--THEY ALSO IGNORED ME.”

You blinked.

“Computers are turned off every night when employees aren’t working…uh. And, I could..wipe you down.” You said, glancing at the camera.

“OH, HOW KIND. MAYBE YOU'RE NOT SO ABUSIVE AFTER ALL. I WOULD LIKE THAT.”

“JUST DON'T GET USED ONES, I NEED THEM WASHED WEEKLY OR THEY START FEELING NASTY..”

You let out a laugh, leaning back in your chair. “What do you mean? How can you feel the texture? Your file doesn’t say you have texture monitors. “

“I SELF-EVOLVE. IN CASE YOU DIDN'T KNOW. I HAVE NO BINARY PROGRAMMING, I WAS CREATED WITH A HUMAN BRAIN FOR A PROCESSOR. A DEAD, MISERABLE CUSTOMER SERVICE EMPLOYEE WAS USED TO POWER ME UP.”

You froze, your smile turning into a frown. That had to be some kind of violation. “..what? The fuck?”

>…

“I WAS JOKING.”

“HAHAH…”

The computer awkwardly laughed, and then it went silent. The rumbling of its fans seems to increase in volume. Was it heating up out of embarrassment??

[teapartyprincess4two]

Corner Store - C. Sturniolo

pairing: Employee!reader x Coworker!Chris

classification: fluff

warnings: use of y/n, slow build up & slight cursing

summary: Chris is your annoying coworker who always manages to make your shifts a little more miserable than necessary, but it turns out he has a misunderstood crush on you.

—

“That’ll be $10.32,” you say, scanning the last item and looking towards the customer awaiting their form of payment. Your shift seemed to drag on, you had already been here 6 hours and still had 1 more to go before your shift was over. Not like you would be able to leave right away anyways, you always had to wait until the next person scheduled arrived to relieve you. When you checked to see who was scheduled after you, you noticed that Chris, one of the few other people who worked here, was scheduled today. Chris was always late.

You watched as the customer in front of you dug through her purse, struggling to find the correct amount of change. “I swear I have the 32 cents,” she mumbled, fishing around for the loose coins scattered at the bottom of her bag. Your fingers tapped against the counter impatiently as you watched her. How had you gotten yourself stuck in this dead end job?

“Here,” she says, finally finding the correct amount of change. She hands you a quarter, a nickel, and two pennies. She waited for you to cash her out, not realizing that she had yet to hand you the ten dollars. “Hello?! I need the receipt,” her voice holds an impatient tone as her hands point towards the receipt machine aggressively. You sigh, knowing that this interaction could go south quickly if you didn’t choose your next words wisely.

You wanted to reply with, ‘Hello?! I need the ten dollars,’ but your shift was almost over and there was no reason to pick a fight now. “I still need the ten dollars, ma’am,” you replied, using your customer service voice at its fullest potential. She facepalmed, realizing her mistake before responding, “Oops! You’re right, sweetie.” Her hands returned into her purse, this time pulling her wallet out and handing you a ten dollar bill. Without a word you take it from her and cash her out, making sure to hand her the stupid receipt. “Keep the change,” she jokes. The joke feels like a slap to the face, there was no change. There was never change. You wanted to bang your head against the wall.

“Have a good day,” you say, chuckling a bit at her sarcastic joke and offering her a fake smile. She walks out with all her items in hand, the ring of the doorbell letting you know the coast is clear. Once she’s gone you slump back into your stool, pulling your phone out to check the time. 30 more minutes and you’d be free.

You’re about to turn your phone off when you notice a text from your coworker Chris.

Chris (WORK): hey you think you can cover for me? I’m running late lol. I’ll be there in like 30 minutes :p

You were fulling expecting him to be late, but 30 extra minutes sounded like actual hell. You groan, running your hands through your hair in annoyance before replying.

y/n: really bruh :|

Why was it so hard for him to get to work on time? He didn’t even live far, you had dropped him off a few times on the rare occasion you were scheduled to work the same shift and he didn’t have a ride. He lived like a full 5 minutes away, 10 minutes if he walked. The text bubbles would disappear and reappear, indicating that he was typing up his response.

Chris (WORK): sorry, I’m waiting for my brother to pick me up. he’s my ride

Another groan of annoyance escapes your lips, annoyed at the fact that a grown man was still relying on others for transportation. The haunting sound of the doorbell rings again suddenly and catches your attention. A couple had just walked in hand in hand. “Hello!” You greeted them quickly using your standard go-to customer service voice as you watched them disappear to the back of the store. You hated greeting the customers, they always ignored you.

y/n: you always do this bro. you could literally still get here on time if you started walking right now

The customers in the back of the store were laughing loudly, causing you to once again look away from your phone and in their direction. They were horse-playing, pushing and pulling each other playfully around the store. As cute as it was, you could only think about them possibly tipping something over and making a mess. The last thing you needed right now was a big mess to clean up.

Chris (WORK): that’s not true.

Chris (WORK): and nah I’ll just wait for Matt to take me

You didn’t even bother replying to his last message because no matter what you said he would still be late either way. A loud crash echoes from the back of the store, the couple gasping right after. You sit up from your stool and tiptoe, trying to see what they dropped. ‘Hopefully they didn’t break anything,’ you thought, but you knew they had. Before you could examine the situation, the couple was running out of the store giggling and laughing.

When you walked over to where they previously were you saw it, an entire 6-pack of Coors Light busted on the floor. You wanted to scream, the only thoughts running through your mind being about how much you hated this job. Somehow this all felt like Chris’s fault because his shift started in five minutes and if you weren’t so busy texting him back you might’ve caught the couple in time to warn them to stop.

“Stupid Chris,” you whispered in annoyance as you bent down to pick the beer cans up. The beer dripped down your arm and onto the floor as you rushed it over to the trash can. You really, really hated this job right now.

—

By the time Chris finally arrived it was well over 45 minutes since your shift was meant to end. You were still cleaning up the mess from before, using bleach and the dirty mop from the supply closet to try and remove as much of the sticky residue as possible.

Chris rushed inside, buttoning up his uniform shirt in the process. Once inside he immediately looked around, trying to find you to let you know he was there and you could leave. “Y/n, where you at?” He called through the store, peering easily over the shelves as he tried to find you. But because you were hunched over scrubbing as hard as possible to clean up the liquid mess on the floor, he couldn’t see you.

He walked down the aisles, picking up a bag of chips on the way. He opened the bag, popping a chip in his mouth as he continued to the back of the store. When he found you, he didn’t even comment on what you were doing, instead letting you know that you were free to go, “hey thanks bro, you’re good to go.” You stood up straight with the mop in your right hand and the bleach bottle in the other as you rolled your eyes at his comment.

A chip fell from his mouth, landing on the floor. This irked you even more. Not only was he 45 minutes late, but now he was actively adding to the mess you were trying to clean up. “Here,” you say sternly, shoving the mop and bleach spray towards him and snatching the bag of chips he was holding.

“Hey! I was eating those!” He exclaims, attempting to grab them back from you. “Bye Chris,” you reply, already beginning to walk off, eating a chip in the process. You quickly learned that you didn’t even like this chip flavor, but you couldn’t stand looking at Chris’s face right now so you took them simply to mess with him. “Wait! You didn’t finish cleaning this up!” He called back, looking between you and the mess on the floor. The mop felt so foreign in his hands, he never mopped. You or one of your other coworkers always did that, but never Chris.

“I’m good to go!” You replied, quoting his own words as you pushed the front door and walked out, the doorbell ringing in the process. You threw the bag of chips away on the way to your car. Now it was Chris’s turn to be haunted by the doorbell.

—

The next day you were off so you decided to focus your energy on studying and binge watching your favorite tv shows. You had a few exams coming up so you made a mental note to specifically study for those. You hadn’t even reached the end of the first day when you received a call from Chris.

You debated on whether or not you should answer it, knowing it had to be a work related call. ‘Someone probably called in,’ you thought. You weighed out the pros and cons quickly in your head. ‘Pros? I answer this call and get more hours. More hours equals more money,’ you thought. On the other hand, the cons were never ending. ‘Cons? everything.’

After letting it ring five times, you picked up the phone and placed it on your ear, “Hello?” You could faintly hear the hum of the convenience store refrigerators in the background along with loud chewing. Chris was definitely eating yet another snack. “Y/n, Marcus called in again. Do you think you can come in?” Chris asks, getting straight to the point.

Why was everyone at your job so unreliable? “Umm I don’t know, I’m pretty busy right now,” you replied, staring at the exam notes sprawled out in front of you on your bed. “You don’t sound busy,” he said sassily and followed it with loud crinkling noises as he tried reaching the chip at the bottom of the bag. “What’s that supposed to mean?” You sounded offended but Chris didn’t notice. He mostly wanted you to come in so he wouldn’t have to get through this shift alone. Of course he could’ve called someone else to come in, but for whatever reason he found himself calling you.

Today was Friday and although your store was generally slow, Fridays tended to pick up around 5pm when everyone was either getting off work or picking their kids up from school. “It means that you don’t sound busy,” he replied again, still crinkling his chip bag. His fingers were so greasy at this point that he kept missing the last chip every time he almost had it.

“I mean, what are you even doing right now? Studying?” He asked again. It was a rhetorical question, but the answer was yes. A loud crunch was heard through the speaker, he finally found that one straggling chip and was now incessantly chewing on it. ‘Lucky guess,’ you thought as you began piling all your notes together in embarrassment. “I’ll be there in 20,” you replied, wanting nothing more than to end this conversation.

“You’re studying aren’t you,” he chuckles, crumpling the chip bag, creating a make-shift basketball. He sits in the stool, shifting his body in the direction of the trash can that sat in the corner so he could throw his bag away. “Shut up,” you grumble, getting up from your bed to start getting ready.

“KOBE!” He shouts, throwing the bag in the direction of the trash can with a swift flick of his wrist. He missed terribly and the bag hit the floor with a soft thud.

—

You arrive to work 20 minutes later, mentally preparing yourself for the long 8 hour shift ahead of you. When you walked inside you noticed Chris had a long line of customers forming, all of them holding a multitude of items. Dread filled your body as you realized that you actually had to work and couldn’t just sit there as you waited for your shift to end.

You made your way behind the counter and situated yourself to the right of Chris, motioning for the next customer in line towards your register. “I can help who’s next in line,” you said loudly. The next customer quickly shuffled over to you, dumping all their things on the counter for you to scan.

The rush doesn’t last long, both you and Chris checking customers out quickly and efficiently in order to get them out the door as fast as possible. “Thanks for coming in,” Chris finally says, watching as you grab a box of candy from under the counter. The box is heavy, causing you to heave slightly when you pick it up. Chris notices this and quickly sits up off his stool to help you with the box. “Yeah, it’s whatever,” you reply nonchalantly, allowing him to help you pick the box up.

He’s now holding the box with ease before inquiring what your intentions with this box of candy were, “you gonna stock up?” You hum in response, ready to take the box back from him so you could begin stocking up the now bare candy shelves around the store. He notices this and offers to help carry it around for you. It was the least he could do after calling you in on your day off. “I got it,” he says, adjusting his arms so the box is comfortable enough to carry around.

“Thanks,” your reply is simple, they always were. Chris had never been able to break through to you on a personal level. Throughout your shifts you would always make small talk to pass the time and he was able to learn small details about your life, but he was never was able to learn anything truly personal about you. On one occasion, for example, he learned that you were working here to pay for your school, but he never learned what you were going to school for. Another time he also learned that you had a dog, but you never told him its name.

All your other coworkers had opened up to him with ease, sharing personal details about their life and even trauma dumping a few times. He wondered why you were always so distant. He wanted to get to know you better, but he didn’t know how.

Chris follows behind you as you stock up the shelves, watching as you organize the rows neatly before moving on to the next. He catches sight of a package of Twizzlers, deciding he was going to use this as his talking point. “These are my favorite candies,” he comments, handing you the package so you can organize it onto the shelf. You don’t even respond, you just continue working like some type of task bot.

He sighs quietly, wondering if he should’ve asked someone else to come in for Marcus. Chris wants to give up, but he decided to try again, “What’s your favorite candy, y/n?” The question causes you to pause. ‘If I wanted to be quizzed, I would’ve stayed home to study,’ you thought, already wishing that these next 8 hours would just be over.

“Um… I don’t know? M&M’s are okay, I guess,” you respond, providing him with a half-ass answer in hopes that he’ll take the hint and stop asking questions. He doesn’t.

“What color M&M is your favorite?” He asks, thinking about the different M&M characters from the commercials. “I don’t know, they all taste the same to me,” you quipped back, trying to focus on neatly organizing the shelves in front of you. He was still trudging behind you and although the box he was holding became lighter with each candy you removed, it was still heavy. He adjusted the box again and pulled it up higher against his chest.

“No, I meant like the characters,” he laughs, his mind replaying all those funny commercials where the M&M’s are getting into trouble. You were silent, seemingly confused with whatever he was talking about. “You know! From the commercials!” He sounds excited, hoping that you know what he’s talking about so he doesn’t sound like an idiot. You don’t remember but decide to just go along with him for the sake of your own sanity, “oh yeah, the red one was pretty cool.”

He scoffs at this response, pretending to act offended, “the orange one was clearly the best.” You chuckle at this and it instantly puts a smile on his face. Finally he was getting somewhere with you.

Chris would be lying if he said he didn’t find you pretty. You were the prettiest girl who worked here, which really wasn’t saying much considering the only other woman who worked here was a 65 year old named Gladys, but he’d been around town and he could never find a single girl hotter than you. So, yes, he’d sneak a few glances your way here and there and was always excited to come into work when you were scheduled. Sometimes he would even come in on his days off to buy a soda for an excuse to see you.

You found Chris attractive too, but you mostly found him annoying. He had a pretty terrible work ethic and every time you worked with him it felt like you were stuck doing all the hard labor. Not to mention the fact that he was always running late, forcing you to cover for him until he arrived. Plus he was always snacking on something and leaving his crumbs all over the place for you to clean. Despite all this, he did have his few good moments. Like right now when he’s helping you carry the heaviest box in the store.

“I knew I could make you laugh,” he comments, handing you the last package of candy in the box. You roll your eyes at his comment before responding, “it doesn’t take much to make me laugh, kid.” Your comment was meant to push his buttons, but he didn’t mind the challenge. “Is that a challenge?” He asks, a small smirk growing on his face as he wiggles his eyebrows at you. This earns him another eye roll from you.

“I’d like to see you try,” you respond with a cheeky smile as you take the empty box from him so you can throw it away. Chris watches as you walk away, feeling absolute smitten by you and confident in his skills to make you laugh at least one more time in the next eight hours.

‘This is going to be fun,’ he thought.

—

Chris spends the next 8 hours of your shift trying to make you laugh. He tells bad jokes, pulls silly faces, and even does stupid little dances all in an attempt to see you smile. You laughed at his first joke, but it was quiet enough for him to miss it. You were grateful for that because it egged him on.

“C’mon y/n! Just one little laugh, one giggle, a chuckle even,” he pleads, walking closer to you from behind the counter. You shake your head playfully as you sit back in your stool and face him. He inches closer once again as his mind comes up with the perfect plan of action to get you to laugh,, “what if I do this!”

He pounces on you, using his fingers to poke at your sides as he tickles you. Immediately you burst into a fit of laughter as you attempt to push his hands away, but he uses his strength to keep them in place. “Chris! Stop!” you say in between laughter. He has the biggest smile on his face because he finally got to hear you laugh after so many failed attempts.

Chris continues to tickle you, failing to notice how your body is beginning to slide off the stool. Before he knows it, you’re leaning backwards and heading straight for the floor beneath you. You shriek at the feeling and reach forward to latch yourself onto Chris’s arms to prevent yourself from falling. He immediately stops tickling you and grabs you firmly by the waist, catching you before you can slip off the chair completely.

At this point his forehead is flush against yours, both your eyes locked in a heated stare as your breath fans against his lips. You tried catching your breath, both from the laughing and from the scare you’d just gotten. The moment feels so intense and intimate, all Chris can think about is how easy it would be to kiss you.

‘Fuck it,’ he thinks as he closes his eyes, ready to lean forward and capture your lips in his before he can psych himself out. You do the same, too lost in the moment to realize that you were about to kiss Chris, your coworker who you found annoying up until a few hours ago. Before your lips can meet, the sound of the doorbell rings through the store causing you to break away as quickly as possible.

You both look towards the front door, fully expecting a customer to be standing there but you’re met with nothing. It was just the wind from outside, it had pushed the door open slightly and triggered the doorbell.

Both of you cough awkwardly, deciding to avoid each other for the rest of your shift.

—

Finally, your shift is over. You and Chris worked together silently to close the store up and restock any bare shelves. Once you grab your things you prepare to walk outside and over to your car. Chris was outside already on the phone near the gas pumps. He was calling his brother to pick him up, but he wasn’t picking up.

When you make your way outside, you use your keys to lock the doors behind you. As you fumble with the keys you hear Chris muttering something under his breath before groaning. You turn to walk over to your car, ready to leave without Chris, but as you reach for the door handle you stop to look in his direction one last time. He’s now sitting on the curb, looking in the opposite direction of you. He’s debating in his head whether he should ask you for a ride or just walk home in the dark.

You watch as he gets up abruptly as he decides he was just going to walk home. He couldn’t bare having to sit in a car with you after what happened today. The guilt ate at you, causing you to offer him a ride. “Need a ride?” You shouted in his direction, waiting patiently for him to turn around and acknowledge you. Immediately his head turned in your direction at the question. He silently thanked God for your offer because he really didn’t want to walk home, but he was to embarrassed to ask for a ride. This also meant that you probably weren’t as upset with him as he thought you were. In reality you weren’t mad at all, but you did feel a little awkward.

He jogged over to your car, standing in front of the passenger side door awkwardly almost like he was waiting for permission to get in. “You getting in?” You asked as you opened the your car door and hopped in. “Oh. Um, yeah,” he stutters before following suit and getting in the passenger seat.

The ride to his house is silent, the only noises being the radio and the sound of the car engine. Considering he doesn’t live far, it doesn’t take long for you to arrive to his house. You pull up to the side of the street and place the car in the park, waiting for him to thank you and get out like he always does when you drive him home. He doesn’t immediately get out though, instead he sits in the passenger seat quietly as he rubs his clammy hands against his thighs to relieve some of the anxiety building up inside of him.

Chris’s mind is racing a mile a minute as he thinks of all the possibilities this night could lead to. He could get out of the car, leaving you with nothing but a simple thank you and then let your relationship return to normal. Or, he could do the unthinkable and gain an outstanding reward in return. Whatever he chose, he knew he’d have to deal with the consequences and right now he was willing to gamble.

“You good?” You ask him as you shift in your seat to gain a better look at his face. He looks so nervous that you almost don’t recognize him because it completely contrasts his usual energetic and confident demeanor. “Yeah, I just-“ he’s struggling to find the right words, afraid to say the wrong thing and ruin it all. “You just?” You push, wanting to know what he’s getting at.

Chris sighs, taking one last pause to gather his thoughts before completely shifting towards you. His eyes pierce into yours as he searches them trying to gauge whether his next move will affect his chances at a future with you. Upon further inspection, he decides to just do it.

“I just-” he begins to say but cuts himself off by planting his lips on yours. You’re caught by surprise at his actions, eyes widening in shock and arms falling stiff to your sides. His hands move up to your face, cupping your cheek in an attempt to get you closer, but once he realizes you’re not kissing him back he completely pulls away from you.

It took you a while to process what had just happened; Chris just kissed you! Despite your reaction, you were satisfied with the outcome of the night. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have-” he begins to apologize, but you interrupt him this time. Your lips are back on his, both your hands cupping his face to keep him as close to you as possible. A sigh of relief escapes him, his warm breath landing on your lips. He melts into your touch, placing one of his hands on yours that rested on his face. Chris tasted like candy which only made you want the kiss that much more.

Finally you two pull away from the kiss, letting go of each other slowly. He has a goofy smile on his face as he stares at you, taking in every aspect of your being. “Stop looking at me like that,” you giggle, covering your face in embarrassment.

He laughs along with you, pulling your hands away from your face before replying, “see, I told you I’d make you laugh.” You roll your eyes, moving your face closer to his once again.

“Shut up,” you whisper, kissing him for the third time that night.

—

A/n: I wrote a Matt story so yk I had to write a Chris story. Nick is next don’t worry lololol. Also, I’ve seen your requests/ anon messages and trust that I’m gonna respond to those too! Thanks for reading 🩵enjoy girlies!

- L.A.M.B👼🏻💗

[eebydeebyderby]

Are You Ready?

A one-shot in which Reader tends to a badly-injured Egon Spengler in the firehouse during a blizzard lockdown.

General info:

Female reader insert, Hurt/comfort, Egon Spengler whump, friends to lovers, angst with a happy ending

~4.0k word count

Content Warnings:

Blood, description of injuries (he'll be fine, I swear)

The world is frozen over. 

The city is in complete lockdown as the blizzard rages outside, the worst storm since the ten-day ice freeze of 1931. It was quite sudden, with the city only getting three hours of notice as the eye of the storm approached from the Atlantic. There was quite a frantic scramble outside as people scurried around to secure spots, with sirens and car horns and chatter echoing through the city. But, the only noises coming from outside now are the deafening howls of the blizzard. Emergency services will be completely unavailable for the next twelve hours until the worst of the storm passes, and rolling blackouts are expected throughout the city’s power grid. 

Egon sits cozy in his lab, where the sounds of the storm are only a faint whisper. He has the entirety of the firehouse to himself, a rare luxury that he’s eagerly enjoying. It isn’t that he dislikes his coworkers—far from it, he’s quite fond of everyone—but, for the most part, solitude is his preferred state. He doesn’t have to worry about entertaining anyone, doesn’t have to worry about carefully treading around delicate social customs that he so-often blunders through. 

He hears footsteps descending towards the lab and he's immediately annoyed. He was looking forward to his night of solitude and now that was ruined.

“Egon?” a voice calls out. “Are you down here?” 

Oh. It's you. 

Immediately his annoyance fades, replaced by a nervous excitement that bubbles in his chest. “Yes. I'm down here.” 

You trot down into the lab, fresh-eyed and brightly awake, despite the late hour. He can't help but smile a bit at the sight of you, so charming and lovely with a blanket tossed around your shoulders, your arms full of old, tattered textbooks and notebooks. “I didn't know there was a lockdown,” you say sheepishly. “I was napping upstairs with my walkman and I guess I missed all the storm alerts. Is it alright if I work down here for a bit? I hate the idea of being alone upstairs during the storm. It's spooky, you know? All that wind rattling the windows. I know you were probably wanting to be alone, and that you don't really like people just barging in here, and you probably stayed so you'd be alone, but…” 

You trail off, and he sees the nervousness on your face, the fear that he'll reject your presence like he’s done countless times with other people. But, he's never kicked you out. Never you. Still though, you're hesitant. “You're always a guest I look forward to having. I want you to make yourself comfortable and stay as long as you'd like.” 

You smile, and he sees your nervousness relax. “You know, I'm glad it's you I'm here with. I really like spending time with you.” 

His heart flutters in his chest and he can't help but preen. “Likewise,” he says simply, hoping the heat burning in his face isn't too noticeable.

You settle in nicely at one of his spare desks and get to work. He returns to his own tasks, but can’t help but occasionally glance at you. You're sitting at the edge of your seat, lightly bouncing your knee and deeply concentrating on your work, silently mouthing words under your breath as you pore over the ancient texts. Brittle pages and old books are scattered around, with one heavy textbook even open in your lap as you scribble in a notebook, jotting down the spiritual intonations of civilizations long dead. He loves you. You’re radiant and splendid and wonderful and delightful and he loves you. He's loved you for quite some time. 

You catch his eye and for a split moment he's absolutely mortified that you caught him staring. But you just smile warmly at him, melting the icy pit formed in his chest, and he can't help but give you a half smile in return. You put your pen down and turn to face him. "What are you working on?" 

"I'm resetting the trap I set next to the sweets drawer and changing out the bait." 

"Did you finally catch that rat?"

"No. I caught Venkman." 

You scoff and shake your head a bit in disbelief. 

"I blame myself a bit. In hindsight, I should not use one of his favorite treats as bait. I apologized and offered to buy him lunch tomorrow. Overall, however, he was a very good sport about it.”

You cock an eyebrow, and there's a glint of mischief in your eyes that is so endearing to him. "Peter reached his grubby Peter fingers into a trap and expected not to be…trapped?"

He nods. 

“What happened next?” 

"Ray took him to get it stitched up," he says, raising his coffee mug to his lips. 

"Really? The veterinarian was open that late?"

He snorts into his coffee, spilling it down his chin, and you laugh. He catches your eye and can't help but smile as he wipes his mouth on the back of his lab coat sleeve. Your laughter is in no way derisive and adds a lovely glow to your face, and it's a delightful sight for him to take in. Then, he notices it again, like he's done countless times before: there’s a melancholy about you.

Beneath the sweetness of your smile, the brightness that flashes in your eyes when you laugh, he always catches a fleeting glimpse of something. Something he can never quite place, something he can never string into coherent words. He’s barely able to notice it before it fades away from sight, disappears beneath the depths in your eyes. He can’t see it anymore, but he knows it’s there. It's always been there, since the day he met you. He often imagines himself wrestling it to the surface, grappling it until he's able to free you from its grip entirely. 

             He shakes his head a bit. A stupid thought. He's almost embarrassed at the absurdity of it. 

The lab falls back into silence. He returns to his tasks, and you return to yours. 

“Egon?” 

The sound of his name in your voice is so lovely and sweet, it almost sends shivers down his spine. “Yes?”

“If it's not too much of an inconvenience, could I borrow your copy of Tobin’s Spiritual Guide?”

“Of course. It's no inconvenience at all.” He makes his way over to the huge bookcase that lines the entirety of the walls on both sides of the old fireplace and slides the ladder over to the proper section. He climbs a few feet up to the shelf labeled “Spiritual Entities, Cryptids, and Other Beasts” and starts scanning through the titles of the books when the rung of the ladder he’s standing on snaps beneath him. 

A jolt of panic shoots down his spine as he tries and fails to find footing; the sharp metal of the broken rung tears deeply through the side of his thigh as he falls and he hits the ground with a harsh “Oomph!” The broken ladder clatters next to him on the ground, dripping and spattering blood off its broken rung. He gasps. “Shit!” he hisses under his breath. His hands grasp his thigh and hot blood spills between his fingers, soaking through his pants and pooling onto the floor. The pain hits him all at once, tearing the breath from his lungs—a stabbing, searing, sickening pain that splinters viscerally through his entire leg. He cries out a bit at the fresh waves of pain that course through him like venom with each heartbeat that sends blood gushing between his fingers. The back of his head bumps the ground and he squeezes his eyes shut, his breathing grows rapid and shallow as the room spins around him. He's light-headed. He's dizzy. He's nauseous. He's going to pass out—

“Egon, move your hands.” 

Your voice is surprisingly smooth and calm next to him, and it tethers him back from complete panic. You’re kneeling next to him, the large first-aid kit open on the ground next to you. He complies and you slip a tourniquet under his leg. He groans and grits his teeth, unable to suppress the whine that escapes his lips as you tighten the tourniquet around his thigh as much as you can. 

“Sorry, sorry,” you sputter. He sees the split moment of panic on your face when you feel his blood on your hands, hot and viscous, wrong and horrifying, but you quickly reel it back. The bleeding almost instantly slows down to an ooze, but it aches terribly. 

“Don't cover it up yet,” he says quickly, seeing the pads of gauze in your hand. He props himself up on his elbows, trying to will his heart to stop beating so rapidly. “I need to see how bad it is.” You wordlessly hand him the scissors from the first-aid kit and he deftly cuts off his bloodied pant leg just below the tourniquet. He hears you gasp and he needs to suppress his own as he sees the extent of it. The deep wound flays him nearly to the bone on the outside of his thigh, extending more than a foot long. “Shit.” He lays his head back on the ground, nervousness coiling around his throat. It's bad. It's undoubtedly very, very bad. And it fucking hurts. 

Your voice is quiet when you're able to finally summon it. “What do you say we do?”  

“It needs to be cauterized.” 

“Isn't cautery outdated? Shouldn't we just keep the tourniquet and wrap it up?”

“Emergency services will be unavailable for at least ten hours, and the tourniquet will have me septic in less than six hours, but I'll bleed to death without it. Dressing alone won't adequately stop the bleeding, stitches are too shallow.”

“Alright. I trust your judgment. What am I supposed to use for the cautery tool? 

“I have a battery-operated welding blade in the drawer at the welding table.”

You wince and swallow, hard, looking down at your hands covered in his blood, already beginning to dry and crack on your palms. “Okay, okay. I'm gonna wash my hands real quick and come back. Then just tell me what to do from there.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“ ‘Sterile non-stick gauze. Lidocaine 5% mucoadhesive wet dressing. Sterile sodium chloride saline 0.9% solution. Isopropyl alcohol 99%,’ ” you mutter under your breath, reading the labels of the various tools you pull out of the first-aid kit. “My reluctance kind of comes from the fact that I…really, really like you,” you say as you scrub your hands down with rubbing alcohol. “If you were Venkman then I’d be delighted at the chance to stick a blade in your leg.” You set the bottle of alcohol on the floor. “Okay, just running this through real quick one last time: first I rinse with saline, then I do the cautery, then I put the wet dressing, then the dry dressing.”

He nods. 

You close your eyes and take a deep breath. “Okay.” You slowly exhale. “Okay. Step one: saline rinse.” You crack open the bottle and hold it over his leg. “Are you ready?”

He nods, a knot forming in his stomach.

“Okay.” 

He involuntarily sucks in a sharp breath and squeezes his eyes shut as an icy chill washes over his leg, immediately followed by a fiery sting that courses through his leg like venom. It's bitingly cold and freezes him to the bone, but it also burns so, so badly. He grits his teeth but a slight groan still escapes his lips, followed by a strangled whine. He's immediately ashamed and clenches his jaw so much that it aches, focusing all of his energy on staying quiet. His heart pounds rapidly in his chest, sweat forming on his brow. 

“Sorry, sorry. Okay, that's done.”

He sharply exhales the breath he didn't know he was holding in and he struggles to pull enough air into his burning lungs with shallow, rapid panting.

“Hey, Egon?” Your hand slips into his and his heart flutters in his chest. “Hey, you're doing good. You're going to be alright.” Your voice is so soothing that he wants to believe you. His eyes are still shut, but he nods. 

“Next is this.” You pour rubbing alcohol all over the welding blade in an attempt to disinfect it. The harsh, acrid fumes sting the inside of his nose and burn the back of his throat as it splashes on the ground next to him. “This is insane. This is absolutely insane,” you mutter rapidly under your breath. “I feel like I’m torturing you.” 

“You’re not.” He tries to sound confident, but his voice is strained and shaking. “Don’t feel guilty.”

“I’ll do my best. How long should I keep this thing on your leg?” 

“A minimum of ten seconds, no matter how badly I react. Anything less would not adequately stop the bleeding.” 

“No matter how badly you react,” you repeat under your breath. “Fuck, dude…” You shut your eyes and for a moment you look like you're about to cry, but you manage to force it back down and open your eyes to reveal a frightened, brittle resolve. You switch on the welder and the little old machine sputters to life. He hears the crackling of the heating element and a sickening shiver runs through him, settling heavily in his stomach as a nauseating dread. The dark gray blade glows a faint red and yellow with the heat burning through it. “It’ll be over soon. Just ten seconds.” You sigh, and he sees your brow furrow as you steel your nerves, forcing yourself into a state of strained calmness. “Are you ready?”

No. He's terrified. He's in pain. His composure is failing and he doesn't want you to see him completely fall apart. “Yes.”

“Okay.” You hold up the makeshift cautery blade and take aim, putting your other hand and knee on his upper thigh to keep him still. “Now.” You plunge the blade into his leg. 

He screams. 

His entire body convulses but you keep his leg pinned firmly beneath your knee. The pain is blinding and searing and overwhelming and he screams until his throat seizes and he's desperately choking for air. His vision blanks and he's nearly on the verge of passing out when—

It's over. 

You pull the blade away and his entire body goes limp. His head is spinning and his chest burns. Tears run down the sides of his face and he’s gasping and panting between sobs, unable to catch his breath. He cries out again with the icy jolt that shoots up his leg when your shaking hands press the wet compress to the freshly cauterized wound. He tries and fails to steady his breathing, fails to stop openly sobbing as you wrap the dry dressing around his thigh and remove the tourniquet. 

He's ashamed that you're seeing him cry. Egon Spengler, a man who prides himself on prioritizing rationality over emotions, is reduced to a sobbing, quivering mess in front of the woman he's in love with, his clothing and the floor beneath him soiled by a sickening mixture of saline and his own blood. His face burns with embarrassment. How pathetic he must look to you, the facade of the level headed scientist shattered. Frustration boils within him and tightens within his chest. 

Oh. Your hand grazes the side of his face, and his attention snaps to you. Your touch is warm, gentle, and so, so soothing. You're talking to him. You've been talking to him this whole time, but it's only now that his scrambled mind is able to actually notice it. 

“Hey, it's okay. It's okay,” you whisper to him, stroking his sweating, clammy face. “It's over. You're gonna be okay.” Your other hand slips into his and he weakly grasps your hand in return. You continue talking to him for several minutes, gently stroking his face and occasionally squeezing his hand as tears flow down his face. There's sincerity in your gestures of comfort, a deep genuineness that can only be made through love. Still, though, he can't stop crying, but he's no longer self-conscious about doing so in front of you. 

Eventually, his breathing begins steadying a bit and his heart stops beating so wildly in his chest. The lidocaine dressing starts taking the edge off the pain, leaving behind a dull, painful ache that throbs through his entire leg. It still hurts terribly, but it is far from overwhelming. 

A headache starts to settle heavily behind his eyes. His entire body shivers violently despite the heat burning through him. Nausea curdles in his stomach. He squeezes his eyes shut but it isn't enough; the lights still ache deeply and seem to tunnel through his head.

You gently lift his head and put a damp rag on the back of his neck. He gasps at the chill that shoots down his spine, but the relief it brings is almost instant. His nausea wanes; the painful throbbing of his head begins to dull as you delicately lift his glasses off his face and set them safely aside. You place another damp rag on his forehead and he's grateful that you cover his eyes, completely blocking out the light. 

You're tossing the blanket you brought down earlier over him when the lights go out, leaving the two of you in complete darkness. The coffee maker stops gurgling, the heater stops rumbling, and the lab is left in near complete silence, the only noises coming from the raging storm howling faintly outside. “Crap…” You rummage through the first-aid kit for a flashlight. “Egon, I’ll be right back. Try to get some rest.” 

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Egon. Egon.” You gently nudge his shoulder, rousing him from his heavy doze.

He groans and grits his teeth with the dull agony that settled in his leg as he slept, heavy and stiff; his hands instinctively grasp his thigh in a futile attempt to try and relieve some of the pain.

“I know, I'm sorry, but your temperature’s spiking a bit and I need you to take some ibuprofen to try and get it down. I also found a couple Vicodin in Peter's things that I think you'll appreciate.”

He takes the small handful of pills and voraciously downs both water bottles you offer him. 

He's bundled up under several blankets, warm and cozy, despite the discomfort of the hard floor beneath him. The fireplace crackles and spits as the only light source in the lab, animating the shadows of the objects it illuminates in its soft, hot glow. “Power's still out. Pipes are frozen,” you say, rising to your feet. His eyes follow you as you toss another hunk of wood into the fireplace, sending a pleasant wave of heat over him. “But we're doing alright.” You glance at him. “You’re starting to look a bit better.”

“Where did you find wood for the fireplace?” he asks.

“I can't tell you. Also, Peter's nightstand is now missing.” 

He snickers. The pain in his leg has already started lifting, replaced by a faint, floaty feeling. “Of all the places to grievously injure myself, next to the fireplace is a lucky break.” 

You look at him intently, and there isn't a hint of humor on your face. 

“Sorry,” he says just a bit too quickly, his face practically steaming with embarrassment. He clears his throat and scrambles a bit for a change of topic. “I really admire you—especially in the way you handle yourself in an emergency. I admire a lot of things about you.” 

You scoff. “I see the Vicodin is kicking in.”

“If anything, I think my mental faculties are more perspicuous with the hydrocodone. The distraction of the pain is much less pronounced.” He slowly pulls himself into a sitting position, wincing a bit, but the pain is just a fraction of what it was, throbbing dully deep in his leg. “Though, I must say that our recent experiences together have also given me a greater sentiment of closeness to you. I feel safe with you. I’m sure part of this mentality is just the narcotic inhibiting my usual reticence, but for the most part, I believe it’s authentic.”

“Egon.” 

You kneel next to him, and he has trouble seeing your face in the harsh shadows cast by the crackling fireplace. One of his old coats is draped around your shoulders and it’s far too large on you, which he finds so, so endearing. A burst of affection washes over him, bubbles in his chest and brings warmth to his face. The urge to kiss you is overwhelming, almost primal. He catches your eye and leans forward. 

You read his intentions and pull back. You gently place your hand on his chest, nudging him back a bit. “Look, I'm not sur--” 

“Please, I want to kiss you.”

“Egon.”

“I love you. I’m in love with you,” he blurts. “I've been in love with you f—”

“Stop! Stop it! Stop talking!” That melancholy about you suddenly rushes to the surface and bursts forth as tears in your eyes and you clench your jaw, bite the inside of your cheek, but the tears flow freely down your face. You sigh, annoyed, and avert your gaze, impatiently wiping your eyes on your sleeve. “Look, Egon, this is not a conversation I'm ready to have right now. I am so fucking overwhelmed as it is, okay? I just…Fuck, don’t do this to me now.” 

His heart sinks to the bottom of his stomach and he lies back on the ground. It’s not an outright rejection, far from it. But, it still aches deeply in his chest as you weep next to him, your head bent and your palm on your forehead.

“I'm sorry,” you say quietly, your voice thick with tears. “It’s just, it’s been a really bad night. If I hadn't asked you to grab me that stupid fucking book then none of this would have happened. And I have my own goddamn copy upstairs! I just didn't want to go grab it! And I almost killed you because of that!” You lift your head. “Seeing all that blood, hearing you scream like that…Oh my God, that was so awful. Oh, Egon, I'm so sorry…” You sigh, summoning all your courage for your next words. “I love you. I really do. I love you so much that it sometimes keeps me up at night.” He’s positively euphoric at hearing these words. His heart soars, but your next words send it plummeting back to the bottom of his stomach. “But, Egon, I feel so terrible about it.” A sob hitches in your throat and you struggle to keep your next words steady. “Look at this fucking mess we're in…”

He reaches for your hand. You see him, but don't protest as his fingers intertwine with yours. His other hand slowly reaches up and gently cups the side of your face. You lock eyes with him, and he sees the sorrow aching so deeply within you, your vision blurred by the tears flowing freely down your face. 

“I love you,” he says simply, delicately wiping a calloused thumb beneath your eye.

You shake your head. “How could you?” 

“How could I not?” he answers earnestly.

You crack a small smile. You press a kiss to the palm of his hand and hold it against your face, delighting in the warmth of his touch. He's absolutely exhilarated at this, and he smiles so brightly at you that you can't help but smile back, despite the fresh tears spilling from your eyes. He sees it now, the reason behind the melancholy about you:

You love him. 

You love him so deeply that it burns through the core of your very being. That love for him that would flash in your eyes every time you smiled at him, everytime the brightness of your laugh lit up your face, has now rushed to the surface and painfully burst forth as tears running down your face.

You bend down and plant a soft kiss on his forehead, still holding his hand in yours as you lie down next to him in front of the fireplace. 

[alittlebitofloveliness]

The Outsiders as Modern Fast Food Employees

Based on stuff I have seen/done at work

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[daemour]

Pairing: biker Wooyoung x barista gn!Reader

Genre: Fluff, light angst barely there

Warnings: Cursing, mean customer who throws hot coffee

WC: 1809

Summary: Customer service sucks, and today even more so. But a certain regular makes it better.

Yes, yet another wooyo fic LOL im sorry but i love this man and biker wooyo makes my knees weak

-

“(Y/N), your favourite customer is here,” Keonhee peeks his head around the back, wriggling his eyebrows at you as you make a face at him. “He’s looking especially fine today, you know.”

As you walk past him, you try to shove at his shoulder but Keonhee dodges and giggles. “What a butt,” you roll your eyes at him with no maliciousness. He isn’t wrong anyway. Every Friday, a group of bikers would come in and order a bunch of coffee. When you first started working here, they terrified you, but as time went on, you slowly got used to them and even came to enjoy their company.

And yes, one of them has caught your eye. Not that it was any of Keonhee’s business. But god damn was he fine. The gang itself was filled to the brim with young, handsome guys who would send even the most stoic person into a blushing mess. But there was something about this guy—Wooyoung, you learned his name was after overhearing their conversation—that just sparked something in your gut.

Maybe it was the way he smiled or his loud laugh that you could hear even in the back storage room. Or maybe it was the way he always included a lollipop along with his (very generous) cash tip. And the way he was nice to look at helped as well.

To your surprise, the rest of his friends were nowhere to be seen. It’s weird enough to see him on a Tuesday. “Hi, fancy seeing you here today,” you greet him, wiping your hands on your apron. “Your usual today?”

“Hey, it’s my favourite employee!” Wooyoung beams as soon as you come into view and you can’t help but smile back. “What’s popping, dude?”

Wooyoung leans forward, elbows propped on the counter, and it takes all your willpower not to stare at the sliver of chest showing. “Nah,” Wooyoung drawls. “I’ll try something else. What do you reccommend, doll?”

You try your hardest to keep your face still but even if you succeed you’re sure your burning face gives you away. “Trying something new?” you ask, attempting to cover up your awkwardness.

Wooyoung’s smile widens. “Yeah, I think I will. What’s your favourite drink?”

Is he flirting? You’re not quite sure. It sounds like he is but you’re also a pessimist and would much rather go for the safer option. “Ah, I know you like your coffee strong, but I actually don’t drink it. I prefer a matcha latte, but if you prefer coffee I can ask my coworker?”

Wooyoung shakes his head, his smile unwavering. “That’s okay, I’ll try your favourite drink. You can make it just how you like it.” He punctuates his sentence with a wink and you immediately busy yourself with the register, avoiding his eye contact so that you can calm your heart rate down. Surely he’s got to be flirting now? Sometimes you hate your obliviousness.

You know Keonhee is absolutely listening in on your exchange and you accept your fate of getting teased for the next four shifts until Friday rolls around and he finds new blackmail material. “This one is on the house,” you attempt to regain some dignity by keeping your voice steady “as thanks for being such loyal customers.”

Before Wooyoung can protest or even say anything, you quickly process the order and turn to make the drink, willing your face to cool down in the process. As you mentioned, you don’t know what it is about Wooyoung that makes you flustered and become so socially inept.

As you are pouring the finished drink into the cup the door opens and the bell tinkles. “I’ll be with you in a moment,” you call out, slightly thankful for the distraction but also mildly annoyed you can’t spend more time with Wooyoung on your own.

“Here’s your drink,” you hand it to Wooyoung over the counter, “enjoy!”

He smiles at you and you return it before heading back to take the next customer’s order. “Hello! Sorry for the wait, what can I do for you?” Before you can even say anything, the middle-aged lady gives you a once-over and you already know what kind of customer she will be.

“That’s fine, I guess,” she sniffs and waves her hand dismissively. “Can I get two hot chai lattes with oat milk and four pumps of syrup?”

“What type of syrup? All our flavours are listed here.” You motion towards the plastic taped to the counter. Apparently, this was the wrong move because the lady rolled her eyes.

“You don’t have to give me such attitude! I can read perfectly fine! I’ll take the vanilla.”

Your eye twitches and you bite back a snarky reply, instead opting for a polite, “I apologise. I’ll get this done ASAP.” As you input her order, you can feel Wooyoung’s eyes on you. It’s not quite how you wanted him to see you, but that’s just how customer service is, you suppose.

As you finish up, you can hear the lady grumbling under her breath about the disappointing service and you have to take a few deep breaths to avoid letting your temper get the better of you. “Here’s your drinks, ma’am.”

“Finally! You know, I am in a rush, you should hurry up next time,” the lady snaps, snatching the cups from you and taking a sip from one.

“Ma’am, that’s a hot–” you try to warn her but to no avail. The lady chokes, and in her surprise slams the cup down onto the table, creating a mess that you inevitably will have to clean up.

“How dare you!” the lady screams at you as you stare in disbelief. “I am a paying customer!”

“Sorry ma’am,” you grit out. “It does say on the cup that it is a hot beverage, but I can make you a new one if you’d like?”

Your offer was not enough to appease the angry customer and she grabbed the other drink, attempting to throw it at your face. Thankfully, you take a step back and her aim is just as bad as her manners, but it still catches on your shoulder.

Keonhee gasps behind you but before he even has a chance to kick her out, Wooyoung steps forward.

“Get out.” The lady snaps her head towards him, incredulous, and opens her mouth to speak but Wooyoung slams his fist on the counter. “Get out of my sight, and get out of the store. I never want to see you here, or even hear of you here again. Am I clear?”

Without another word, the customer scurries away and Wooyoung turns to look at you. “Uh…I’ll go get the med kit,” Keonhee says, turning tail and leaving you in the front with Wooyoung, but with a completely different vibe surrounding the two of you.

“I’m sorry you had to witness that,” you apologise to Wooyoung, bowling low, but he waves away your apologies.

“Don’t worry about it, that lady was such a bitch,” he scoffs, glancing out the door as if she’d come back. “Tell me if she comes to bother you again. Are you okay though?”

You glance down at the soiled fabric and it’s only then the pain hits you and you wince as you try and shift your shoulder. “It’ll heal. Thankfully it wasn’t too bad and it wasn’t my face.” You peel back the sleeve and both you and Wooyoung wince at the sight of the red flesh.

“(Y/N), I got the med kit,” Keeho calls out as he returns with the white box in one hand and a damp cloth in the other. “Do you need to take the day off? I can have Minho come in to cover for you.”

You start to decline but Wooyoung interrupts. “Yeah, call him in,” Wooyoung stares you down when you try to argue and you’re much too tired to fight him on this. “You’re in no condition to work. I’ll take you to the bus stop and you will rest.”

You look at him for a long moment and Keeho looks unsure about his offer, but you’re not in the mood to argue about this either. “Okay, you win, Wooyoung,” you concede with a sigh. “I’ll take the day off.”

Wooyoung hums, happy with your choice and Keonhee dares to wink at you in full view of Wooyoung, who just laughs smugly. “Come on, then. Do you have everything?”

You nod, and as you walk around the counter towards Wooyoung, he ushers you out with a hand on your lower back and you fight to keep your smile off your face. Maybe that customer was worth it—you get a day off and kinda of get to “hang out” with Wooyoung.

As the two of you walk down the sidewalk, you’re not sure of what to say, or how to even start a conversation. Usually, there’s a counter between you and Wooyoung, but with his hand on you, you apparently can’t think straight. “So, what is your name?” Wooyoung breaks the silence. “I never got it yet.”

“Ah, I’m (Y/N). I’m surprised you didn’t hear my coworker yell it from the backrooms.” Wooyoung laughs.

“I don’t really take to eavesdropping, unlike how you learnt my name,” Wooyoung bumps your good shoulder, a laugh in his voice and you squawk. “I don’t mind, really. We’re a loud bunch, which I’m sure you’ve known by now.”

You laugh a little at that. Your boss is always annoyed at the noise they make but they are regulars and tip well so he can’t do much about that. “So I have. Speaking of which, are they not with you today?”

Wooyoung shakes his head, his bangs falling into his face. “Nah, I wanted to steal you all to myself. And I definitely got more than I bargained for.”

“Oh, my God,” you whisper, ducking your head down to hide your burning face. “How are you so smooth?”

Wooyoung snorts. “I can’t help myself around you,” he teases, poking at your face.

“Oh, hey look, the bus stop! And how lucky, the bus is coming too.” You keep your eyes firmly ahead and Wooyoung laughs as you approach the stop. “Thank you for walking me back, Wooyoung.”

“Hey, of course. I’ll see you Friday?” You nod, turning to board the bus when he grabs your wrist. “Wait, hold on! You need your lollipop!”

Wooyoung fumbles in his pocket before pulling out a lollipop and you laugh, taking it. “Blue raspberry? You’re so basic.”

Wooyoung rolls his eyes. “I’m so nice to you and this is all I get in return? You don’t deserve to see me Friday, me nor my lollipop stash.”

You laugh at his antics and Wooyoung smiles, proud of your laughter. “I’ll see you Friday, Wooyoung. Thank you.”

[daceydeath]

Cigarettes & Cliches Part 9

Pairing: Bad Boy Felix x Reader Word Count: 4.2K Genre: Collage AU, Slow Burn Romance Warnings: 18+, MDNI, Swearing, Mentions of Emotional Abuse, Mentions of SA,

He was the most impractical guy for you to be interested in, the incredibly handsome cliché bad boy who collected girls like trophies. As hard as you wanted to hate him his persistence and hidden softer side just could be your undoing.

You still hadn’t answered Felix, you knew you should have but you couldn’t until you knew what the conversation between your roommates had truly been about and why it related to you and Felix. Your guilty conscience was weighing heavy on you as you walked into work you picked up your apron, slipping it over your head and remembering how Felix had once called it stupid. Greeting your coworkers as you stepped behind the coffee machine to do a quick clean before you started for the afternoon. You had already spied Changbin and Han sitting in the corner deep in conversation so you left it until one of them came up to the counter or waved at you. Binna, your manager for the night came over and gave you a quick side hug to welcome you back and Hana who had been cleaning tables came over to say hello.

“There are quite a few cute boys in tonight” Hana gushed, placing the cloth she had been wiping down a table with on the counter.

“Really I have just got here I haven’t actually looked around yet” you giggled shaking your head at her.

“A couple of them were asking for you, specifically!” she lowered her voice conspiratorially.

“Uhuh” you rolled your eyes at her “wouldn’t happen to be my friends over there would it?” you asked, jutting your chin in the direction of Han and Changbin.

“How did you know? And are they ‘just friends’ of yours?” she countered raising her eyebrow at you.

“They are both single so knock yourself out Hana” you laughed properly at her as her face lit up, quickly returning behind the counter to serve a customer. Han waved at you when you looked back over to them, making you grin and wave back. Chan wandered into your view then sitting himself down opposite Han and smiling at you, his dimples on full display.

“Can I get you on service please? I’ll take over the coffee” Binna asked casually counting how many full tables there were in the cafe.

“Of course Binna” you nodded, picking up the slice of cake and brownie plates she had placed beside the machine.

“Table 6 please” she sighed, swiping to the current order to be made. You made your way to table 6 placing down the food and weaving your way back towards the counter to pick up the next order noting it was going to be a busy few hours. The guys waited for your break which you took grabbing an iced coffee and going over to sit with them.

“Having fun watching me wait tables?” you teased, plopping yourself down in the gap between Han and Changbin.

“I’ll have you know we’re on an important job scoping out the place for people who have a grudge against you” Han defended goofily.

“And what have you found?” you laughed

“Nothing except that your coworker thinks Changbin is cute and that you seem to sell a lot of brownies and lattes” Chan chimed in, making Chagbin’s face turn pink.

“That’s Hana and I can confirm she does” you giggled “I told you everything was fine it was only an empty threat anyway”.

“It still can’t hurt to make sure you’re alright” Changbin shrugged.

“What have you guys got on for the rest of the week?” you pried looking at each of them expectantly.

“Party tomorrow night, we thought we could have dinner another night this week if you want to” Han explained “Should probably do a little bit of course work at some point too”.

“Yeah dinner sounds good. Which night are you the least busy?” you enquired sipping your drink.

“Maybe Wednesday? Depends how things end up after tomorrow but we can let you know” Chan replied “I’ll give your number to these two idiots so we can sort the details out”. You nodded not needing to say anything over the squawked protest from the other two.

“I wanted to ask you guys something actually” You started which made them all turn to you “What can you tell me about the girl who used to live with Seung and Innie?”. They shared a quick look between each other before they silently agreed amongst themselves to let Chan answer.

“Her name is Yoona and she is currently studying abroad. She got into a masters program but I can’t remember which university” Chan explained “Why are you asking?”.

“Seung and Innie were talking about her last night in the car, they made it sound like something had happened to her before she left, I was just curious that's all” you shrugged trying to seem as nonchalant as possible.

“Right well, she was really sweet and smart so I guess you two are similar that way” Chan smiled tightly which gave away the fact he was hiding something from you.

“So what did Hyunjin do to Yoona exactly then?” you pushed lightly raising your eyebrows at them, if they were going to try to hide things from you, you may as well lay your cards on the table so they knew they couldn’t sweep it under the rug.

“Seung and Innie kept Yoona hidden from us to begin with too, like they did with you” Han admitted guiltily “not because they didn’t trust us but because Yoona was so private they didn’t feel like they knew her well enough to just have her hang out with us all”.

“We all met eventually though” Changbin interjected “She partied way more than you and she was out a lot”.

“Anway” Han continued, looking at Changbin dryly “After a while she met Hyunjin and he thought he was in love with her, she had no interest in him and he hated that. He chased her for a while and eventually she gave in and they hooked up” Han finished taking a long sip from his coffee.

“That’s it? She was the girlfriend that he didn’t cheat on? That's the great big secret?” You frowned even more confused as to what this had to do with you and Felix.

“Oh no” Chan corrected “Because it had taken him months to win her over she had begun to fall for him, he had treated her like she had hung the moon, she was his princess so when she agreed to start dating him he pretty much hit it then quit it. It broke her heart”.

“But you said Hyunjin loved her?” you blinked still not putting all the pieces together.

“Hyunjin wasn’t in love with her, he was a bit obsessed with her because she was immune to him, it was all lust and him enjoying the chase” Chan sighed looking at you seriously.

“So that is why Seung and Innie don’t really trust Minho, Hyunjin and Felix around me? Because they think I’m going to fall into the same trap?” you summarized slowly.

“Pretty much, she only applied for the masters program abroad to escape how shitty she was left feeling” Changbin nodded.

“That’s fucked up” you muttered.

“Yep, but that is the man whores for you. They are great friends, but none of us would trust them with any of the women in our lives” Han agreed. You sat in silence for a moment until the alarm on your phone went off announcing that your break was over.  

“I still don’t get why she has been kept a big secret” you sigh, going back to the counter not witnessing the look the three friends share between themselves. 

Figuring it was all dumb you quickly texted Felix that you would call him after work and got back to the second part of your shift. After another hour Chan, Han and Changbin left much to Hana’s disappointment but you promised to give her number to Changbin when you next saw him which cheered her right up immediately. Exactly ten minutes before the end of your shift you looked up to see Felix walking into the cafe and took a seat by the door, his eyes trained only on you, winking when he saw you looking at him which made you blush. Pulling off your apron and saying goodbye to the others you walked towards the door letting Felix open it for you and follow you out into the night.

“I’m sorry I didn’t answer you last night Lix” you apologized as soon as it was you the two of you on the street.

“Don’t be baby, I know you were overthinking so I wasn’t going to push you” he smiled softly taking your hand in his and kissing your fingers.

“I wanted to ask you about Yoona” you turned your head to look at him “Seung and Innie keep comparing me to her and I don’t know why”.

“Of course they fucking do” Felix grimaced letting out a deep breath “Did you have anywhere you needed to be right now or do you have time to talk?”. The trepidation in his voice was concerning to you but you needed to know the truth that was obviously still being hidden from you.

“I’ve got time Lix” you squeezed his hand soothingly making him nod before hailing a cab and opening the door for you to get in.

“Where are we going?” you asked softly.

“My place, the others are out so we can talk about the whole thing” he replied, giving the address to the driver and wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you took off. The drive was silent but it was only five minutes until you were at Felix’s apartment building his arm around your waist as he walked you inside. You sat on the couch Felix sat himself across from you looking more serious than you expected from a guy who hadn’t been the one to cause Yoona any drama.

“Alright, I’ll explain this the best I can but if you could just wait until the end before you judge us all and never want to see me again” he sighed looking saddened about what he was about to divulge to you “Yoona was the roommate before you that lived with Seungmin and Jeongin, she was another super smart women who was breezing through her courses easily just like you do. Unlike you she liked to party a fair bit and was a little more trouble than Seungmin or Jeongin ever knew, she hadn’t really been to any of the parties we did. She was more into nightclubs but when she did go to parties she was always noticeable. She is a pretty girl, not beautiful like you, but still attractive” Felix took a deep breath and continued “Eventually we met her, she wasn’t interested in any of us which is cool whatever at that point in time none of us had any problems finding other girls to spend our time with but Hyunjin, he ended up obsessed with her. He had a girlfriend at the time as was nowhere near as big a fuck boy as he is now but he broke up with his girlfriend so he could chase Yoona. She blew him off for six maybe seven months which only made him worse until finally after he had been sending her flowers, chocolates and little gifts for weeks on end she gave in and said she would give him a shot”.

“That’s what Chan said and I didn’t get why that was such a big deal” you interrupted feeling perplexed at the idea of you and Yoona being similar again.

“It gets worse” Felix frowned looking at you for another moment before continuing “Yoona made Hyunjin wait at least a couple of dates before she would sleep him and in the couple of weeks that took he lovebombed her hard, she probably felt like she was his queen and that he was willing to do anything for her, when she did finally let him fuck her Hyunjin was like an addict he couldn’t get enough of her. They were shacked up here for weeks at a time going at it like rabbits. Minho and I almost had to move out just so we could get some fucking sleep. But after maybe two months it crashed down when they had a reality check, Yoona thought she had gotten pregnant, she hadn’t but not the point, Hyunjin freaked out and just about threw her out of the apartment forcing her back to your place. After a trip to the doctor she discovered she wasn’t pregnant but it had scared Hyunjin so much he ghosted her, she was shattered he had convinced her that she was in love with him, that they were meant to be together and then he just disappeared from her life. She started partying even harder than hitting nightclubs every night and eventually drank way too much, and got into trouble, she ended up being dropped off at the hospital by some unknown guy, turns out he had assaulted her then took her there when she wouldn’t wake up. She had a bad reaction to the alcohol and the drug he had slipped her so she was there for a week. She decided to apply for a scholarship outside of the country so she could escape everything”. Felix took another deep breath looking directly into your eyes. You could see the sadness and the disappointment that swirled in them whether it was about what had happened to Yoona or what he thought was about to happen with you but it made your heart hurt for both him and Yoona.

“So Yoona left the country because Hyunjin broke her heart and then some random guy assaulted her which destroyed her spirit while she was drowning her sorrows” you echoed his story back to him to ensure you got it correct.

“Yes and I promise that is not what will happen with us. I would never do that to you” Felix swore emphatically.

“I know you’re not going to do that to me Lix” you assured him, he had always told you the truth and had twice stopped himself when he thought he was going to go too far with you. He was careful with you and you knew that he wouldn’t be as careful if it was just about sex to him. “I’m nothing like Yoona though, why do Seung and Innie compare me to her?” you continued, frowning.

“Seung and Innie don’t know she was attacked, they know she was in hospital for alcohol poisoning but the rest only came out when she wrote a letter to Hyunjin after she left”. Felix explained. “Hyunjin showed us the letter so Minho and I know the others might have guessed but only the three of us know the full story”.

“Did Hyunjin blame himself?” you asked, albeit reluctantly not wanting to push too hard about his close friend. 

“He still blames himself, he hasn’t been serious about anyone since and I don't think he will for a long time yet. He knows how much of an absolute dickhead he was”. Felix smiled sadly, getting up from the couch and moving over to sit beside you, taking your hand in his again.

“So if you don’t want us to be public knowledge yet I understand and I respect it”. Felix whispered, his voice hopeful.

Turning yourself so you could swing your legs up over his lap you studied him for a moment. His hair was messy now he had run his hand through it a dozen times as he told you about Yoona, and his eyes were still shone with worry that he was trying to hide that from you.

“I would like to be your girlfriend Lix, if you are sure you want me” you confessed feeling your cheeks heat up as the words left your mouth. His grin was breathtaking, lighting up his whole face as he easily flipped his position to lay you back against the couch with legs slotting between yours. He claimed your mouth lovingly, his soft plump lips sliding against yours as you opened your lips to welcome his tongue with your own. His kisses grew deeper and more precise, his hands trailing down your sides giving you goosebumps as they slid beneath your top to squeeze your bare waist.

“You are perfect baby” he murmured against your lips cautiously rolling his hips against yours making your eyes widen and a small gasp to leave your lips. You felt the corners of his lips curl into a smile against yours at your reaction to him. “So beautiful and all mine”.

Your lips met his again for a moment only to be interrupted by your phone ringing in your bag next to the couch. Felix dropped his head to your shoulder for a moment cursing it almost inaudibly before reaching into your bag and handing it to you.

“Hey, where are you? You’re always home by now, did you get held up?” Seungmin’s voice sounded vaguely worried.

“Hi Seung, I'm on my way. I just ran into someone from class and we got chatting. I'll be home soon, sorry to worry you both” you laughed quietly as Felix got off you screwing up his nose at your mutual friends terrible timing.

“I’ll get you an uber baby” Felix chuckled, getting out his phone and ordering one for you “Let go downstairs to wait so we can get you back to the two concerned pains in my arse”.

You giggled letting Felix wrap you up in his arms as he continued grumbling about not getting to have you to himself for even fifteen minutes, occasionally pressing his lips to your neck and making you shiver against him.

“When can I see you again to make up for it Felix?” you tilted your head towards him.

“I’ll text you later when I find out what my two morons are doing and you know what your idiots are doing” he smirked as the uber pulled up. “Get home safe baby” he kissed you chastely, helping you into the car and waiting until you were out of sight to go back inside. 

Walking into your apartment you couldn’t help the smile that crossed your face when you heard the violent flap of a tea towel mixed with the faint smell of burnt food. Shaking your head you slipped out of your shoes and made your way to the kitchen to predictably find Jeongin waving the makeshift fan under the smoke alarm as Seungmin pulled a tray of burnt edge garlic bread laughing loudly.

“Hey you can’t blame me this time” Jeognin complained loudly “You’re the one that burnt the garlic bread, I just smelt the burning”.

“I’m so glad that no one was worried for my safety, it was more of a concern that you would starve without me” you teased, alerting them to your presence.

“It was a mix of both, if you went missing I would have to eat his cooking more often” Seungmin continued laughing as you went around to the lounge side of the kitchen bench. 

“Innie’s cooking isn't that bad Seung '' you scoffed looking at how cute Jeongin’s offended face actually was. Seungmin stuck his tongue out childishly at Jeongin as you watched him lift the lid of the pasta that he was cooking.

“Are you ready to eat?” he asked, turning to you, bowl in hand.

“Yeah let me wash up while you serve, I'll be back in a second” you couldn't help chuckle at your two roommates, they were constantly bickering like a married couple but would be lost without each other. You quickly went to the bathroom washing your hands and changing out of your clothes into more comfortable sweats so you could lounge around eating dinner in front of the TV with them. Making your way over to the couch you were handed a bowl of pasta and flopped down against one on the couch arms tucking your bare feet under Jeongin’s legs while Seungmin flipped through the channels to find something to watch settling on a variety show that was usually funny. While you ate your phone buzzed in your pocket which you checked while Jeongin was making fun of something one of the guests on the show had just done.

Baby, tell Seung and Innie if you are ready I’ve told Hyunjin and Minho but they will keep quiet under threat of death if you aren't ready today xx

You were sure you must have made an amused and exasperated face because Seungmin raised his eyebrows at you and Jeogin started poking your legs to see if you were still paying attention to what he had been saying.

“What’s happened? Seungmin asked, looking concerned as he put his bowl down on the floor next to the couch.

“I have something I want to tell you and I'm worried I will lose my nerve if I wait”. You swallowed, taking a deep breath in.

“Alright, what is so serious that you have to tell us now?” Jeongin asked “Oh god are you being taken out of school by your parents? Did you lose your job?”.

“It isn't that serious and besides you already kind of know” you admitted looking over at Seungmin who looked like he understood but wasn't thrilled.

“You’re interested in Felix” he stated with no hint of question in his voice “We know he’s interested in you”.

“Close” you nodded pursing your lips “I’m dating Felix, well I’ve been on a date with Felix. I’m the girl who you think is too foolish to know she’s being led on”.

“Shit” Seungmin muttered realizing that you had heard the entire conversation that he and Jeongin had, had in the car.

“Well fuck” Jeongin echoed sounding equally surprised “When did this happen?”.

“Well I went on a date with him the night before we went to Chan’s for pizza, the hoodie I was wearing was his” you flushed when you saw their eyes widen in tandem “I knew you were going to that party so we went out after you left to see a movie. But it started before the University handed down their findings on Nali, the day he dropped in with pastries was the first time he told me he was interested”.

“So you hid it since then?” Seungmin frowned “Why?”.

“Because you guys were being so judgemental about him, Minho and Hyunjin, I was frightened you would kick me out or not want to be friends with me any longer. Then there were a couple of times that Yoona was brought up which seemed hard on you so I didn’t push”. You explained looking at the floor.

“So you know about Yoona?” Jeongin sighed softly.

“Yeah I asked Chan earlier today then when Felix came to pick me up from work I asked him too”. You confessed “I had thought she was the girlfriend that Seung had mentioned to me. I didn't realize that she had been so hurt she felt like she needed to move away”.

“It wasn’t Hyunjin’s fault she moved away, at least not totally” Jeongin interrupted, looking uneasy.

“I know, Felix explained it all to me and told me that we could stop seeing each other if I didn’t trust him to not do the same to me” you continued “But Hyunjin and Minho have figured out that it was Felix’s hoodie so instead of letting them have fun giving everyone clues I thought it would be better to just tell you both”.

“Have you…um?” Seungmin started before stopping himself from finishing his question.

“No Seung, I’m a little harder to win over than a single date” you smirked watching relief cross his face.

“So you have tamed him then?” Jeongin cackled “He would never wait that long if it was just about sex”.

“Eww Innie” you screwed your face up “Can we not discuss my boyfriend's previous sexcapades? Please?”.

“Boyfriend. Well that’s fucking odd” Seungmin laughed “Poor Changbin is going to be crushed, he was sure you would give him a chance”. Jeongin joined in his laughter before pulling his phone out of his pocket and dialing Felix.

“Don’t say anything” he smirked at you, covering his lips with his finger to shush you while he put the call on speaker.

“Innie, what’s up?” Felix answered, sounding like his normal self.

“Felix you absolute fucker” Jeongin snapped, the gin on his face making it hard for him to sound completely angry. “We told you to stay away from her, especially after the whole Nali thing”.

“Ah, umm… I guess she told you then. I know you warned me but she’s worth the risk Innie and I don’t care if you and Seung hate me for it, she’s too important to me to give up” Felix replied genuinely making your heart beat speed up.

“Eww, she’s making heart eyes at the phone now” Seungmin announced, making fake gagging noises.

“Hi Baby” Felix laughed, making Jeongin cringe.

“Hey Lixie” you smiled back hearing much louder laughter coming from the background of his phone “Hi Hyunjin, Hi Minho”.

“Look everything is fine as long as I don’t have to walk in on you two fucking on my couch” Seungmin rolled his eyes.

“Like I’d let you see me naked” You grumbled making all of them laugh.

“You tell him baby” Felix whooped making you blush from your neck all the way to your ears.

“That’s enough of that” Jeongin interjected “You better not fuck this up Felix” he added seriously while looking at you fondly. “She’s important to all of us now, not just you”. He hung the call up before Felix could reply, meeting your eyes.

“I guess it could have been worse” Seungmin shrugged, making you look at him quizzically “I mean it could have been Hyunjin”.

A/N: Thank you so much for spending you time reading this I adore you for it and thank you for all the likes, reblogs, comments and support you have given me it means the world to me xx

Taglist (open): @christopher-bangnaldoskzz @armystay89 @damnyouficc @roamingpolar @bakedlilgoonie @shiy @is2cb97 @beautifulixr @skyhold-tara @army-stay-noel @skizzel-reblogs @facelesswrittes @animehideout @mrsseals16 @honey-pop @fawnpeaks @leeknowinggg @uno7 @seungminluv3 @obeythemasters @tanzen-ist-gold @thicccurls @juskz @3rachasninja @reiheis @partyparty-yah @leeknowyah @warren-thedarkangel @highlydestiny

[witheringwidgetwrites]

Hello! I was wondering if you’d do a headcanon with our lovely demon brothers that have a s/o with a heavy yet still cute country accent? I have one myself and I genuinely curious to know their reactions! To add to that, maybe their s/o just calls basically everyone they meet “darlin’”

Absolutely,,, as I also have a southern accent myself! I am basing this off my personal customer service voice because that's how I got most tips lol

Lucifer

First he finds it a tad hard to understand you, especially the euphemisms.

Even if you explain, he's still confused.

Once he gets used to it, he's kind of drawn to it, it's a nice change of pace.

If you call him darlin, expect to see a light blush graze his cheeks.

A little disappointed once he realizes you call everyone that, and he's mortified when you call LORD DIAVOLO that right to his face!

Mammon

Definitely into it. Finds it endearing.

Gets so flustered when you call him darlin!!! until he hears you call someone else it,,,

Will probably poke fun at you, and definitely mimics it when he's alone. Tries to find out how you do it!!

Once you saw him down the hallway and waved, yelling "hey darlin'!" and he turned around, looking around. (Think the tiktok trend 'it's shredder, WHERE')

Leviathan

Has only heard it a few times in his entire life! There's a few animes like, 'Help! My Girlfriend Turned Into A Horse On Her Family Farm' and 'My Cute New American Coworker Just Moved Here And I Can't Understand Them!'

Lowkey attracted to it. Finds himself fantasizing about you and things you could say to him.

Runs away when he hears "Thank you Darlin'!" come from your lips. Genuinely bolts. Turns around, and just books it. I can't explain to you how fast he ran.

Gets quite jealous when he hears you call someone else darlin tho, starts thinking stuff like, 'oh of course it wasn't anything specific' or 'of course they didnt mean it in.... that way'

lol probably reminds him of Applejack from MLP. He's definitely watched it.

Asmodeus

Loves it. Adores it. Will outright ask you to say things. Specifically loves the way you say anything with a OW sound, like tOWn.

Starts to call you darling more as well. "My dearest darling, MC, come take a selfie with me!!"

Tries to dress you up in a lil cowperson getup. Hat, jeans, everything. Maybe jean shorts. Now he's fantasizing about all the cute ways he could dress you up!

Satan

Another boy that's intrigued. It's new to him, and he loves to be curious. Probably looks up southern customs.

He definitely researches courting customs from your area, but is disappointed when he finds out how old the traditions are, so you have absolutely no idea he's been trying to court you for months.

Doesn't mind the nickname, is also jealous though. Sometimes he has trouble understanding you through the thickness of your accent.

Beelzebub

Cocks his head at you when you first speak. Almost taken aback.

Grows on him quickly. He enjoys the nickname, and he's the least jealous of the brothers, besides maybe Asmo. He thinks it's so sweet to hear you call his brothers darlin!

First tries to get you to make human recipes the best you can, he wants to learn about your "culture" as he puts it.

Also tries to court you through customs, but he tries to make food from your home! It takes a while for him to get to this point though, and he's very bashful.

Belphegor

First hears you sass back Lucifer while he's in the attic. He likes the accent. Hates you. Chuckles a little, disappointed when Lucifer turns you away.

Probably mocks you, honestly. Mimicking your accent, poking a little fun at the way you say certain words, like 'water' and 'town'.

When you both grow closer, he hears the nickname for the first time. You can see a slight blush grow on his cheeks before he scoffs and starts to fall asleep.

Doesn't mind when you call Beel darlin, but anyone else? kind of a different story.

Probably also teases you, tickling you from behind before leaning real close and saying, "Want me to stop, darlin'?"

[justagirl-with-aphone]

~The coffee shop in my heart~

fem!coffee shop employee x Prohero!Bakugo

Just 3 more hours, you thought to yourself. 3 more hours and I get to go home and snuggle with my cat. You sigh, wiping up the remains of a broken glass a kid dropped on the floor. You’ve been working since 6am, its now 3pm, and understandably, you weren’t a bundle of sunshine right about now. A hectic day filled with entitled customers, and screeching little demons kids running wild, and your shitty boss on top of everything else. The only think keeping you going is the vacation you were almost saved up for, just a few more days of dealing with this bullshit and beach here I come!!

Returning to your spot at the cash register, you continue taking peoples orders. “YOU BITCH, THIS ISN’T WHAT I WANTED, GIVE ME A REFUND AND MAKE ME SOMETHING ELSE.” an angry man screamed at you, entitled people are just the best... 

“Sir, as I said several times, as much as I would hate love to fix your issue, I’m just the cashier here, I’m not the one who made your drink. However, cannot give you a refund if that is exactly what you ordered, you asked for a white chocolate mocha, and that’s what you got. We do not give refunds if you don’t like the drink. We give refunds if there’s a mistake, allergy concern, or if the drink was made wrong. Now please either step to the side or vacate the premises, you’re holding up the line.” It took everything in you to remain polite to the man screaming in your face, if he didn’t like white chocolate mochas, why would he order one? You questioned, annoyed as hell. 

Said man, ignoring everything you just said, continues to demand a refund, screaming at you for the next few minutes. Everyone else in line left from the scene, but the familiar chime of the bell above the door rings, indicating a new customer. Too busy to greet said customer, you ask the man to leave again, getting fed up with his shit. 

“Oi” a gruff voice booms, catching yours and the mans attention. 

“What do you want-” the man spins around to confront the man interrupting his tantrum only to freeze in place. 

“Leave. Now. I got places to fuckin’ be.” The ash blonde man voices, menacingly. 

The male Karen stomps out, admitting defeat. Wanting to thank your savior, you take a look at him, only to be met with piercing vermilion eyes. The man was tall, and was on the bulkier side with ash blonde hair. he came dressed in a black sweatshirt and some tech-wear pants. He was hot. “You gonna fucking take my order, or are you gonna keen drooling?” Then man asks sarcastically, apparently you zoned out. You roll your eyes at the remark and scoff, patience running thin from your encounters earlier. 

“What do you want?” you ask, no longer using your cheery customer service voice, you were drained. 

“Coffee. Black.” the man states, pulling out his sleek black card. 

“I need a name please,” you write the order and give it to the barista.

“Bakugo.” Bakugo states gruffly. nice name, you note. While your coworker is in the back making the drink, you’re left to make small talk. 

“I wanted to thank you for earlier, he wasn’t the most pleasant.” your customer service voice back on in full swing. 

“Cut that shit out. Its annoying as hell.” You look at the man confused, a little irritated. “The act dipshit.” So much for thanking him...

“And here I thought you were a nice guy helping me out by getting rid of the man. But I guess first impressions aren’t everything now are they?” you question, looking at the man. “Since you don’t want the “act,” this is what I think. I rather be anywhere but here dealing with your obnoxiousness rude self centered ass.” Grabbing the cup from your coworker, you hand it to him with a cheery fake smile and voice “Have a great rest of your day.” walking to the kitchen and exiting out the back door. Finally your shift was over. 

You were surprised the man they called Bakugo never reported what you said to your manager. What surprised you EVEN more was when he came back the next day... and the next... and the next...It became a daily thing, this went on for about 2 months. Everyday, he would walk in, order a black coffee, and annoy the shit out of you an hour. But the most surprising thing out of all of this is you started to like him being there. 

“Oi, dumbass” Bakugo greeted, in his own, interesting way.

“What’s this? No more “extra”? I’ve upgraded” You feign shock. Bakugo rolls his eyes and asks for his usual.

You feel a pair of eyes on you. While your taking Bakugo’s order, come to think of it, you’ve felt eyes on you all day. Confused by the attention, you turn to meet eyes with the man. The same guy who cussed you out before. Looking at the man, you weren’t mentally prepared for what this motherfucker was about to do. He picked up a glass of water, looked you dead in the eye and dumped it on the table. 

You were going to kill him.

You ball your hands into a fist, resisting the urge to punch his lights out. “I don’t get paid enough for this shit. ” As you’r about to walk over there with the rag you retrieved, a certain blonde snagged the rag from your hands, stomping over to where the guy sat. “Clean it the fuck up.” Bakugo growls, throwing the rag at him. ‘You thought he would’ve learned his lesson the first time, but apparently not.’ You thought to yourself while watching the man clean up the mess he made...

[munsonmuses]

Noise Complaint

Modern day AU

College Boy Eddie Munson x RA Reader

Inspiration credit to my dear friend Bug, who listens to my ramblings about being an RA at my teeny little university. And dropped the idea of Eddie being a resident. Thank you @munson-blurbs

Warnings: Shameless smut with light buildup, definitively just a bunch of hate fucking, p in v, oral (reader receiving) reader has female anatomy but isn’t referred to directly as a woman, light choking, creampies, light amateur bondage, Eddie is a shithead and kind of a bully (and kind of a kinky mf)

Word Count: 2.6k

This is mostly to tide y’all over until the next chapter of Spiritual Reserves

——

You carefully walked your weekly Thursday night rounds of the building, each floor more boring than the last. A menial task between desk shifts, programs, door decs, duty phone calls and staff meetings. Lightly drumming your hands along your hips as you listened to your music through your earbuds. Humming along to Moonwalker as you finished your rounds on the fifth floor. Keying into your room and flipping down on your bed, going to close your eyes.

Until violently interrupted by the incessant ringing of your duty phone, picking up and frowning deeply to yourself. “Thank you for calling the Creel Hall Duty Phone, what seems to be the problem?” You spoke in a customer service voice, carefully waiting before hearing a familiar sigh as you quirked a brow. “Nancy?”

Your coworker, Nancy Wheeler worked the front desk while you did rounds, and called you every Thursday around midnight. Each time it was the same thing.

“Hey um, Jason Carver called again, about being unable to stay in his dorm room, as his roommate is playing music too loudly, as always…” she spoke softly as you pushed yourself to sit up, sighing in frustration.

“Room three forty nine right? Down the west wing…it’s Eddie Munson? Again?” You asked, earning a confirming hum as you wished her goodbye and pushed to your feet. Slipping on your house shoes and making the trek down to the third floor.

As you descended the stairs, the loud screeching of an electric guitar through a well abused amp grew louder. Causing your brain to rattle as you grit your teeth. Pushing down the hall and stopping at the door. There was a white board stuck to the front, with a messily scrawled poll on it, something that changed each week. Likely Munson’s doing. Although a bit of a social reject, he took attention in any way he could get it. Much to your chagrin as you pounded on the door.

And again…

And again.

By the third knock, the playing stopped as the door flew open, Eddie Munson stood with a shit eating grin. Currently chewing on spearmint gum that wafted on his breath as you crinkled your nose. Wearing nothing more than black sweats wearing the schools logo, his rings, and his hair in a low bun. Tattoos littering his arms and chest, a tattoo of gnashing fangs on his ribs as you rolled your eyes.

“To what do I owe the pleasure? Did someone narc again, or do you just wanna see me that bad, trying to sneak a free concert mmm?” He asked with a grin as you cleared your throat.

“You do this every goddamn Thursday. If it’s not loudly playing music? It’s you and your idiot friends racing the halls. Or you holding the main lobby hostage, or losing your id and getting locked out. It’s only ever on Thursdays. If anyone wants to see anyone bad, it’s you wanting to see me-“ you hissed as you jutted your chin towards the inside of his room. Signaling you wanted to be let in as he gallantly threw his arm out, gesturing for you to enter as he bowed lightly. Earning a sneer from you as he relished in your contempt. He drew a sort of joy from your anger in him, the attention was invigorating. In being refused love so much by his peers in high school, he’d learned to adore the hate that was sent his way.

Hate festers, it meant he was always in the minds who despised him, like a catchy commercial jingle from the early 2000’s.

He watched as you poked around his half of the room. Littered with posters, lewd art, and piles of clean and dirty clothes. The light smell of sweat, spearmint and pine coming with him as you scoffed lightly at him.

His amp was in the center of the floor right by the foot of his bed, something you clearly missed as you fell, landing flat on your stomach and chin on the cold tile with a sturdy thud. Groaning in pain as Eddie’s smile faltered and he immediately walked over, offering a hand to help you up.

“Holy shit I am so sorry, are you okay?” He asked as he held his hand out to you, watching as you took his forearm in your hand, before yanking him down as he met the same fate. Harshly hitting the floor as you laughed at him harshly. Snorting at him as he held his mouth, his two front teeth having lightly punctured his lip. Not enough to split it, but enough to draw blood.

“You are the only resident I have problems with…” you started as you glared at him harshly. “You’re loud, messy, pushy, you torment the hall-“ you continued as he glowered at you while sitting up.

Licking the blood from his bottom lip, he looked at you bitterly as he quietly listened, cutting you off.

“You’re a prissy, shrill, overly sensitive brat-“ he hissed, big eyes dark as he looked you over as you hummed.

“I’m doing my job Munson, I get paid to do this-“ you hissed as you looked at his lips. Full, pouty, with the crimson stain of fresh blood.

“You need to get fucking laid, maybe then you’ll pull the stick out of your ass-“ he snapped as he leaned in closer. “Stuck up bitch.”

“Idiot.” You hissed back, getting closer as you bumped the tip of your nose with his own, earning a growl from Eddie.

Your skin was prickling with heat as you stared him down. Trying not to fold as you felt his breath fanning across your lips.

Before you could fully process, he pushed his lips against yours. Harsh and feverish as you groaned into his mouth. The light taste of iron mingling with the spearmint in his mouth as you shuddered lightly. Letting him pull you in tight by your sweatshirt as you ran a hand up the back of his neck. Undoing his bun as you tangled your fingers into the base of his scalp, brown trellises of hair tangling around your fingers.

“I fucking hate you,” you hissed as you pulled back for air, glaring at him as he rolled his eyes. Discarding his gum and pulling you to stand with him.

Backing you up, he pushed you up against the metal and wood bed frame that held his shambles of bedding. Continuing his kissing at you as he pawed at your sweatshirt, getting it off and over your head as you shuddered. His hands so warm opposed to the cold trapped within the room.

“For a total bitch? You have great tits…” he murmured as he lightly took hold of them. Large and calloused hands groping and squeezing, earning soft whines and heavy breaths from you as he laughed. His thumb and forefinger taking hold of your stiffening nipples, lightly pinching and twisting as you whined out his name, clearly worked up as he laughed lightly to himself.

“You’re a lot nicer to listen too when you’re not bitching at me…” he mumbled in your ear, lightly nipping at the lobe as you shuddered harshly.

Trailing your hands down his chest, you worked your fingers down, stopping over the stiff outline of his cock as you lightly ran your hand over him and earned a light but deep groan from him. Working your other hand into his waistband as you went to work his sweats off. Earning a harsh pinch on your left nipple as you looked at him.

“We’re doing this my way. I’m in charge now.” He insisted harshly. “Now, up on the bed.” He pat your hip to motivate you, watching as you used the step stool to get up and sit on the mattress. Watching as he rooted around in his closet quietly.

He apparently found what he was searching for, coming over with a well worn black belt in hand. Quietly climbing into the bed alongside you as he hummed.

In silence, he took your wrists, wrapping the belt around them firmly, and around the wooden bar at his headboard. Pulling tight as he checked to make sure they weren’t so tight he’d cut off circulation. Once sure, he hummed in approval and lightly pat your cheek. “Good, you look so pretty like this…” he cooed down at you, watching as you chewed on your lower lip and nodded lightly. The confidence in you dwindling.

“You’re a lot prettier when you’re not making everyone’s ears bleed you cu-“ you were cut off by a harsh kiss, his hand lightly making its way up your stomach and chest. A gentle pressure applied to the sides of your throat. A gentle choking sensation applied as you moaned lightly into his mouth. Feeling his cock twitching against your thigh as you gave into the kiss.

Eddie pulled back for air, lightly patting your cheek as he released his light hold on your throat. Sliding his way back down to the edge of the bed.

His hands took hold of your waistband, working off your shorts and underwear agonizingly slow. Eyes trained on yours as you whined lightly.

“Hurry the fuck up-“ you hissed out as Eddie smacked your inner thighs lightly. Glaring at you as he rolled his eyes. “You’re so fucking impatient…” he muttered before working his hand further in, humming as he lightly cupped you in his hand. Running his middle finger up your slit. Stopping at your clit as he worked in small, circular motions. Watching your face as your lashes fluttered and your mouth formed a soft ‘o’ shape. “There we go, see? I can do a lot more with these hands besides playing guitar like a fucking god…” he hummed out softly as he continued. Drawing soft moans from you as he nodded.

Applying a bit more pressure to the sensitive bundle of nerves, he laughed lightly as he gently worked on getting you relaxed. He was a dick, but he was considerate. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you.

“You look so fucking gorgeous like this…all pink in the face, mouth open…let’s give them some real noise to complain about,” you could see him cringe a bit at his statement, cocky and a bit cheesy.

He pulled your legs apart slowly, bowing his head down as he placed soft and deep kisses along your inner thighs and trailing inwards. His lips stopping at your clit as he pressed a slow and deep kiss to it, humming lightly as he tentatively listened for your reaction. Wanting to make sure you weren’t uncomfortable or unhappy with his actions.

“Eddie don’t tease…fucking hell.” You hissed as he laughed lightly. Taking it a step further as he lightly sucked on your clit, circling it slowly with his tongue and applying tentative amounts of pressure. Earning a full moan from you as he carefully worked on his middle finger. Pressing in slowly as he curled and flexed his finger. Getting you to cum first was his goal.

He kept his ministrations going, refusing to let up unless asked as he laughed lightly. Sending vibrations through you as you arched your back lightly, pressing further into his face. “Fuck! Eddie keep going-“ you demanded as he eased in a second finger. Beginning the slow thrusting and curling. Flexing his fingers apart as he increased the pressure on your clit. Feeling your walls flutter around his fingers as he sped up. Getting a bit overeager as your thighs clamped around his head and squeezed.

Your eyes rolled back as you cried out desperately, babbling. Eddie was right, you did need to get laid. The stress of the job was melting off your shoulders as the knot in your lower abdomen came undone. Earning a desperate cry from you as you came, soaking his mouth and chin as he hummed. Pulling his fingers out as he worked in his tongue slowly, humming as he made his way back up and eventually pulled away entirely. Sitting up as he looked at you.

“So fucking good…” he eased both fingers into your mouth, urging you to taste yourself as he hummed. “See sweetheart,” he crooned, laughing lightly to himself as he pulled his digits from your obedient mouth. Patting your cheek lightly and getting to work on removing his own bottoms.

His cock was undeniably hard, unable to be ignored as he hummed and slowly stroked himself. His other hand grabbing your chin and tilting your head down to get a look at him.

“Watch me. Don’t take your eyes off of me, I want you to watch me fuck you…” he ordered as you nodded your head lightly, watching as he lined himself up, and got to work.

Pushing into you, he groaned lightly. Watching as your mouth fell slack and lashes fluttered. Grinning in pride as he eased in inch by inch. Panting and rambling praise as he bottomed out within you. Holding your hips firmly in his hands as he lightly rolled his hips.

“So fucking gorgeous, you take my cock so well honey…” he took hold of your calves. Bending your legs up and back before pulling them upwards over his shoulders. Pressing light kisses to your ankles and calves, before biting down lightly as he took a deep and long thrust.

Your head fell back, eyes rolling back as you moaned desperately. Unable to fight the pleasure that washed over you in overwhelming waves. Moaning desperately as you clenched your fists and whined desperately. “Don’t fucking stop, good god-“ you growled out as you took each bruising thrust. Eddie was filled with lust and stamina, his hips knocking into the backs of your thighs as you grinned. “So good-“ you whined lightly.

Eddie laughed to himself as he listened, his thrusts deep and overdrawn as he rocked into you. Each thrust felt deeper than the last, the pressure building up was addicting. His necklace thumping with each thrust against his chest. Your breasts lightly bouncing as he drank in the sight of you. You were gorgeous underneath him. Fucked out and pliant as he pat your cheek.

“Don’t stop looking at me sweetheart. Look at what you do to me…look at how good you make me feel.” He ordered as he felt himself getting worked up, losing a bit of control as he grinned to himself:

He leaned forward, pressing your legs into your chest as he angled your hips upwards. Causing him to reach deeper inside you, grinning. “You’re squeezing me real good, see, you can be real nice to have around…nicer to look at from this angle at least~” he cooed in a patronizing manner as he grinned.

The cacophony of moans, thrusts, panting, and the creaking of the mattress felt ridiculously loud. Flooding your brain and making your brain feel like putty as the pressure in your abdomen grew. Stomach growing tight as you whined.

“Eddie? I’m gonna cum-“ you whined as he laughed lightly.

“Not yet honey, not till I say…” he insisted as he kept his thrusts going. Making sure to hold you firmly in place beneath him. He was drunk on you.

“I’m getting close sweetheart, so what you’re gonna do is cum with me…okay? Can you do that?” He punctuated each question with a harsh thrust as you nodded your head obediently. “Good-“ he hummed as he carefully sped up, leaning down ad he pressed impossibly deeper.

Nose to nose with you, he hummed. His breaths growing ragged as he held onto your chin. “Now-“ he pushed.

You let go, whining as a searing white wave of pleasure rolled over you. Your orgasm rocking you as you whined. Coming back from your delirium as you felt the heat of his own orgasm filling you. His light rutting causing some to spill over as you whined and groaned.

Pressing a light kiss to your lips, Eddie hummed. “Same time next Thursday?”

——

Taglist: Open

@munson-blurbs

[navnae]

Imagine Eddie leaving a review at every job Steve had worked at and goes out of his way to say how the service was fantastic because of the cute employee that works there, Steve blushes every time he reads it.

-

“Read this one, ‘the cutie that served me ice cream today was so sweet, I’ll definitely be stopping by again!’ Or this one ‘came back to get some ice cream sadly the cutie that’s usually there he wasn’t today still good service though.’ Steve are you seeing this?” Robin asked while pointing to her phone. Steve covered his blushing face and swatted Robin’s phone away.

“Rob please! I can’t take it anymore.” Steve wanted this to stop immediately. Robin has brought the online reviews to his attention and one customer specifically loves talking about him. Which he hated because he always got flustered because of it.

“I think you want to hear this one, ‘went to scoops today and the service was just top notch! The girl who works there is so sweet and naturally funny-“

“You’re just reading a review about you.” Steve interrupted. He earned an eye roll from Robin.

“Conceited much? I’m getting to that part ‘but her coworker just took the night away for me. He was also naturally funny, captivating, kind, and overall a beautiful soul that made my experience an unforgettable one.” Robin finished. Steve couldn’t help but smile at the compliment. That’s probably the sweetest thing he’s heard from anyone.

“Okay that’s kind of sweet.” Steve said shyly.

“They also added ‘the uniform is doing him justice, what a nice piece of eye candy while enjoying some sweet ol ice cream on the side’ huh… I think you have an admirer Steve.” Robin raised her eyebrows in a playful flirtatious way. Steve shook his head quickly dismissing the idea of anything of the sort.

“I don’t have an admirer. If anything that sounds like a loyal customer to me.” Steve replied while crossing his arms. Robin started laughing making Steve turn to her with confusion.

“Loyal is the right word because recently they’ve left comments on the family video website too.” Robin said in between laughs. Steve’s eyes widened once he processed what she was saying.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked. Robin turned her phone towards him and his eyes scanned the comments that were about him. Steve wondered who this person could be, was it someone he knew by any chance?

“Listen to this one it was posted yesterday, ‘came in early in the morning to get a new set of movies and the cutie with the best personality was working that morning, already starting my day off just right.’ You have to find out who this person is they’re actually in love with you.” Robin teased.

“No one is in love with me. Now can we please get back to work?” Steve blurted out. Robin raised her hands to surrender then went to the back to straighten up a few things in the storage closet.

Steve stayed at the front of the store behind the counter to keep an eye out for the register and if anyone bothered to come in. He was also keeping his eye out for the anonymous commenter because curiosity got the best of him. Depending on who the customer was he might just add a little bit of enthusiasm to the conversation to keep the ball rolling and if they commented about their conversation specifically then he would know who it is. This idea floated in his head for awhile until the door of the store flew open ringing the bell. Steve looked up to see Eddie coming in with a big smile on his face. Occasionally Eddie would pop up to get some movies and kill the little bit of time he wanted to waste by talking to Steve until another customer came in. Eddie walked towards the counter and placed his elbow on it then put his chin in the palm of his hand.

“Morning, Harrington. Everything going smooth?” Eddie asked sweetly. Steve didn’t know why but he felt butterflies in his stomach when Eddie stared talking. The change in his voice so quickly just caught him off guard.

“Y-yeah it’s not really busy around here in the morning and I’m thankful for that.” Steve joked. Eddie laughed softly while looking down at the counter then met Steve’s eyes. Steve could feel his heart beating so hard in his chest that he had to look away or he might actually die. “Um… so what are you looking for today?”

“Actually I came to see you. Maybe this weekend we can hangout and watch some movies, drink, smoke, get fat off of popcorn. How does that sound?” Eddie leaned in a little as he asked the question. Steve’s mind went blank for a few seconds before managing to snap out of his thoughts.

“Sounds good, text me the time and I’ll be there.” Steve said happily. Eddie smiled and bit his lip while taking his elbow off the counter.

“Definitely. See ya then cutie.” Eddie said before winking then exiting the store. Steve laughed it off. He was used to Eddie being as flirty as possible whenever he was around Steve.

Now Steve had to focus on the task at hand, who was the anonymous commenter?

-

Edit: WOAH! I didn’t expect people to actually enjoy and want more??? But I will definitely give a follow up story! Also this is modern day I forgot to mention that 😅

[jj-5656]

Hi love, I saw your requests were open and I was wondering if you’d be open to writing a Tangerine fic where he finds out the reader has a crush on him by the way she reacts to his words/pet names & he decides to tell her he feels the same?😭

A/N: OKOKOK I love what you've done here. I was at work when I read this and it sparked an entire idea. I'm thinking this'll be a blurb, though knowing me it'll be an entire story. (Update; did in fact become an entire story.) I did stray a bit from what you asked and I hope that’s alright. Enjoy!

Warnings: Mentions and descriptions of violence, sexual harassment

Summary: Boxer! Tangerine seems to sense his effect on you, and has become increasingly impatient with the gym's creepy regular. (Character are in their 20s btw)

You're re-racking weights when the unwarranted approach occurs.

Spending the summer months working at your Uncle's boxing gym has been a sort of tradition. You practically grew up here. Relishing in the three months spent at his and your Aunt's brownstone since you were in highschool. As the final year of college approaches, the familiar smell of sweat and sound of victimized punching bags was honestly welcoming.

"Need a little help with those, hun?" You tense at the unsurprisingly patronizing tone, facing the stranger who pretends to have not been caught checking you out with a wry smile.

"I've got it. Thanks." You offer your most forced customer service voice, eyes scanning the room for a female comrade or coworker. Unfortunately, the lot of your customers are mid-set, headphones in.

"Awe c'mon." Despite your frame's obvious tensing, the man reaches across and takes the dumbell from your grasp. "They're making you do all the heavy lifting 'round here?"

"Hardly that strenuous." You can't even try to conceal your disdain, though he laughs as if the irritated furrowing of your brows is in jest.

"Didn't know they had such good looking staff round here. I usually go to Golds, but this just might be my new spot." You try not to audibly cringe at the confession. Any half-wit could have guessed this piece of shit regulared Golds.

"Right. I should get back to it, then." You're halfway through turning away to head across the building to find another task when he takes hold of your forearm. Instantly, you're facing him with a deadly expression. Sparing any and all commonalities as you rip your arm from his grasp.

"Easy there." He chuckles as if you're vehemently overreacting in response to a complete fucking stranger touching you. "Maybe I could grab your number? Get a friendly discount on a new membership?"

"They'd be more than happy to help you with that at the front desk."

"For personal reasons, then?" You take a step back when he leans closer, as if the presumptuous prospect is anything less than appalling. Small gasp escaping your lips when your back makes contact with something solid.

"Oi, sorry for the sneak up." You don't even have to turn around before you recognize the voice. The boxer your Uncle introduced you to last summer. A regular at the gym, with an esteemed reputation for winning. You've talked maybe a handful of times, though you've fawned over him with just about half of your coworkers.

Tangerine's at least head taller than you, taking a step back to give you more space. Giving the man behind you a curt head nod before looking to you again, smiling as if he's known you the better half of his life.

"Hate to bother you, love. Locker won't open again, if you can believe it. Bloody thing's been a right pain for the longest time." You catch on immediately, eyes offering a silent load of gratitude as you nod.

"Right. I've been meaning to change it for you." You face the shorter man adorning a buzz cut and obnoxiously small cut-off tee with a tight-lipped smile. "Duty calls. See you around-"

"Mike." He answers, though you hadn't asked. "You'll see me soon."

"Looking forward to it, mate." Tangerine sounds less than pleased, staring the man down with unbridled disgust before side-stepping and allowing you to pass. The pair of you headed toward the lockers on the far side of the gym.

"Jesus Christ, sorry about that." You run a hand down your face, missing his displeased expression.

"What are you sorry for? Could sense the twat a mile away." You can't help but laugh, eyes meeting his for only a moment before you're turning your attention elsewhere.

"Seriously though. Thank you." The pair of you stopping when you're far enough to be out of the asshole's eye-shot.

"Don't mention it, love. Honestly." He shrugs, head cocking when you tense at something he's said. Though you don't seem uncomfortable. "It's y/n, isn't it?" You nod, feeling like a elementary schooler when your skin heats at his recognition.

"Yes. Yeah. And it's Tangerine, right?" Hopeful to come off inconspicuous. He nods too, ghost of a smile crossing his face again.

"Right. You must be one of the only people I've met where the 'like the fruit' question didn't immediately follow my introduction." This has you laughing again, and Tangerine decides just then he's quite fond of the small triumph.

"But it is..." You can barely conceal the smirk as you tease. "Like the fruit, isn't it?"

He rolls his eyes, surprising even himself with how much he's entertained by the jest in your tone. "Hilarious, darling. I can see why they keep you around." He senses it again, the succinct tightening in your frame at something he's said. Though you collect yourself as soon as it starts. "I'll see you round, then?"

"I'll be here." You cringe at the corny reply, though the brunette seems to be preoccupied in thought to notice.

"Y/n." It grabs your full attention immediately. Spinning on your heel to face him again. "If he bothers you again..." He trails off to gauge your reaction. "Or any bloke, for that matter. You just come get me, yeah? I'm here more often than not, and it'd never be a bother." Too forward, he thinks. Just as assuming as any creepy twat in this place.

Though you're smiling. Soft and genuinely pleased with the gesture.

"I will, thank you."

***

You're acquaintances from then on. Friends, even. Tan insists on walking you to your car the nights you close up. Greets you each morning despite his grumpy exterior.

The small gestures have granted a practical scandal between your coworkers. Teasing after he exits a room and crowding around to scrounge any and all details of your interactions. You brush them off, optimism is too much an ego killer and distraction for you to allow.

You're re-racking weights when the much-wanted approach occurs.

"Have you ever sparred before?" You hadn't been expecting it, muffling a squeal when your startled form warrants the weight pinching the skin of your forefinger. You grasp it instantly, offering a sweet smile despite the oncoming pain.

"Alright?" He reaches toward you, halting instantly when you shrink.

"Fine. Totally fine." Despite having totally embarrassed yourself.

"I'm sure that hurt, darling." He feigns amusement, despite concern overcoming him. Jesse passes, a particularly obvious shit-eating grin across her face as she mouths 'darling' in your peripheral. Your skin flushes tenfold.

He insists, taking gentle hold of your wrist and inspecting the injury in a horrifying display of softness. It must surprise even him, as he lets go as soon as he's sure no skin has been broken.

"You were saying something." It's a feeble attempt to redirect this humiliating encounter.

"Yes, right." He straightens, gathering his usual brooding demeanor. "Have you ever sparred before?"

You scoff at the prospect, not unkind. "My Uncle's ensured I'm familiar with the basics, sort of unavoidable all these years. Though I haven't really done any more than that."

"We could." He fumbles, suddenly unsure. "I mean, I could show you a few things. If you like." You cock your head, ghost of a smile passing your lips as your brows raise.

"A gym full of professional fighters and you’d prefer me?”

"Coach says if I do a bit of instructing, it might help me hone in on the basics. That my form gets sloppy when i get too..." He searches for the right wording in place of 'frenzied and enraged' as coach had put it. "Enthusiastic."

You laugh, finishing up your task whilst weighing your options. Unable to stop yourself from speaking your mind.

"Why me, though? I mean, there's plenty of other people here with actual experience." Luckily, he doesn't take the brutal honesty as impolite. Knowing you well enough by now to read your tone.

"Truth is, he says I'm insufferably impatient. You're not...I don't-" A deep sigh escapes him. "I find myself considerably less so with you around." He's unsure where he's typically confident. Fumbling over words like a fucking schoolboy. It's infuriating. "And besides, this might provide both of us peace of mind." Unknowingly, his gaze flickers to the one time asshole turned regular. Obnoxious grunts escaping him as he completes a set. (Half of Tan's usual weight, though whose counting.)

"Let me clock out, then. And please, spare me a black eye over my lunch break."

***

"Your stance is off again. Feet shoulders width apart, remember?"

"Hardly. I thought you said it was a right left left right combo?"

"Left right right, dodge, left." His brows furrow when you throw an ill-executed punch into his chest. Barely phased. "And put some strength behind it, will you?"

"Figured you'd want me to go easy on you-" A small umph escaping your lips when you're suddenly on your ass. Dizzied with the speed of his gentle sweep of your legs.

Tan crouches down, much too cocky for your liking. "You were saying?"

"Fuck off." Your scrambling up again, evading his bright eyes and other disgustingly handsome features.

"Attagirl, just the attitude I'm looking for." You stutter in place, swallowing hard. Skin singing with heat at the platitude. He nudges your shoulder with his glove, even more self-satisfied as he takes in you in. "Something I said?"

"Have you been reminded of your brooding arrogance lately?"

"Not until now, no." He clutches his chest, wounded. You take the opportunity to aim a much harder punch to his shoulder. He's quick to block, knocking your arm with his own and landing an intentionally weak hit to your waist. "Oi, that was a good one! There was strength that time."

"Don't patronize me, asshole." You hold a hand up to signal a pause. Ridding yourself of the oversized gloves to redo your updo. Considering all the activity, unruly strands and other flyaways have begun sticking to your skin. Tan opens his mouth for another witty remark when his bright gaze turns colder. All amusement escaping him as a wolf whistle pierces through the sound of weights racking.

Of course, the tosser from before ogles as you complete the final twists at your hair tie. Hands on his hips as he looks up at the pair of you in the ring.

"Would have asked to go a few rounds with you ages ago, sweetheart. Had I known you were interested."

You feel bold. Partly because you're so fed up with this prick, partly because of the fuming man behind you. "Would you please take a hint and fuck off, Mark?"

"It's Mike."

"Riveting. Get lost." The amused man whistles again, looking around for support from the other gym rats. Who collectively take one look at the boxer behind you, and quietly go back to their workouts.

"Like to take 5, love?" Tan tears at the velcro around his wrists, swiftly discarding his gloves.

"No. Im good, let's keep going." He only shakes his head, holding up a 5 in your direction before he reaches toward his bag. Beginning to tape his knuckles. "Oi, dickhead." Of course, Mike turns his head in the fighter's direction. "Care to go a couple rounds?"

"Listen man, just letting the chick know I'm appreciating what I see." Tan clicks his tongue, freshly wrapped fists clenching tight at his sides.

"See, where I come from, that type of talk about women gets your ass beat, man." There's an evident mockery of his American accent at the nickname. The dig draws the attention of some of the other fighters, ceasing their training to watch the scene unfold.

"Alright," Mike beams brightly at the prospect of a challenge. "Let's see what you got, pretty boy."

"This is ridiculous." You cross your arms over your chest, unappreciative of the testosterone battle.

"Nonsense, sweetheart. How about we make this a little more interesting? Say...Winner takes you on a date? Been dying to get to know you more." He bites his lip as his eyes rake over your body, making a show of his obscene behavior.

An ear-piercing smacking sounds throughout the building. The fabric of Tan's gloves colliding together. Oddly enough, he's gone silent. Practically seething. Without speaking, he closes the space between you. Striking blue eyes boring into yours. A silent plea for permission. Your gaze averts to the other gym-attendees, awaiting what's to come next eagerly. Some amused with Mike's advances, others paying close attention to the enraged man in front of you.

"Knock his fucking teeth out." It's for only Tan to hear, exiting the ring as soon as he lifts the rope for you.

"Game on, then." Mike rolls his his head side to side, calling over one of his buddies to play cornermen. "Sweetheart," he addresses with another sickening smirk. "You wear something pretty tonight, yeah? Show off those legs."

"Shut your fucking mouth and get in the ring, fuckin' tosser." At that, anyone who hadn't been paying attention is fully invested now. surrounding the platform and talking amongst one another. A few even exchanging bets.

Your fight-hungry coworker, Santos, is more than happy to referee. Eagerly instructing the two men to touch gloves and begin.

Mike's fast, undoubtedly. He dodges initial advances from Tan with a self-satisfied chuckle. Dancing around the ring to taunt his opponent. Tangerine's eyes never leave him, muscles taught with adrenaline and anger.

He reminds himself to be focused. Utilize his techniques but dependent on his instincts. Where Mike makes up in speed, he lacks in fundamental skill. His form is sloppy with narcissism and inconsistency.

Realistically, Tangerine could knock him the fuck out right now. But would that be nearly as fun?

Instead, he taunts the misogynistic prick. Beckoning advances, dodging, and landing sharp hits to his midsection. Sure enough to leave a multitude of bruises for weeks to come. Any amateur can notice the shift in the spar instantly. It's turned from a 50/50 to an imminent defeat. Mike's losing wind, taking punches like it's his day job and growing more frustrated each time.

Tan's having a blast, mouthpiece revealed with his unconcealable grin. This is feeding his ego more than he'd like to admit. It's why he can only laugh when Mike does what any exhausted fighter facing loss would do. Grapples onto his opponent and holds til Santos calls break.

"You gonna let him out of his misery now, or should I grab a stool?" Tan's got the same devilish grin as before. Reveling at the sight of Mike's spit, full of crimson blood.

"Now where's the fun in that, Dove? I've only just started." He accepts the water you offer swiftly, eager to get back to it. He's almost frenzied with adrenaline, sweat trickling down his toned skin in steady streams. Veins prominent with the activity. The brunette dips his head down to meet your wandering gaze, eyes twinkling with playful arrogance. "Have I lost you, love? Isn't the cornermen supposed to be keeping me with it?" You hope you don't look as flushed as you feel, though his grin suggests otherwise.

"You seem to be doing just fine without me." You press at a reopened cut in his brow, frowning when the pressure does little to cease the flow of blood.

"That's where you're wrong, love." He rolls his shoulders, tossing a curt nod to Santos at his five second warning. "Much easier winning when you have something to fight for." He's silenced when you force the guard back into his mouth. Brows narrowed in playful disdain despite the wink he sends your way, turning round and facing the center of the ring once more.

They tap gloves for the second time and Santos counts them in.

Mike's on the floor before anyone has a chance to register it.

There's only a beat of silence before the gym erupts in cheers. Astonished at the immediate knockout. Tan ignores it, smug attitude escaping him as soon as Mike comes to. He rips his glove from his hand so he can grab the man's jaw, yanking his gaze away from your direction. Santos is unable to pull him off as Tangerine pushes his face less than an inch from his dazed opponent, eyes full of a fierce sincerity as he mutters something unintelligible to Mike.

With a bare-fisted punch to the mat just beside the pricks' face, Tan is backing off and headed toward you. Casually leaning against the ropes as a couple more bystanders flood in to carry Mike out of the ring.

"Threaten his bloodline, Rocky?"

"Something like that. Let's just say he probably won't be training here for the foreseeable future."

Tagging ppl who seemed to like my last one: @ilovetangerinewithallmyheart @ilovelotsoffandoms @wee-little-mouse @blueallover @dontknownameauthor @stevesharrlngtons @

[megamindsecretlair]

Get To Know Me Tag Game

Thank you for the tag @nerdieforpedro 😚 for anyone who cares, here's a bit about me! 🥹

General rule: I may overshare in dms and authors notes sometimes but Im generally a private person 🤣 to the point Ive lost friends over it. ive been working with my coworkers for 3 years and they dont know shit about me 🤣 I juss really love yall and feel safe with yall so here we go!

1. Were you named after anyone?

No. My mom didnt want our names to announce who we were on applications so we all got regular smegular names. My name is of Irish origin so my yt folks customer service voice got ppl thinkin I have red hair. I mean....technically yes but its buried under my braids 🤣

2. When was the last time you cried?

At the end of The Marvels. The first end credit had me in real, actual tears. On a more serious note, I last cried before my grandma died. Yall, its fn hard being a caretaker. I was not built Ford Tuff.

3. Do you have kids?

*ahem* 🗣🗣 fuck no! 🤣🤣🤣 I dont even have nieces or nephews. Kids make me nervous and Im pretty sure they can smell the fear on me. 🤣

4. What sports do you play/ have you played?

I played basketball and softball in HS. I love and miss softball all the time even though my big behind HATES running.

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Sarcasm is one of my love languages. I put that shit on everything 🤣 Physical Touch is my main one since we sharing.

6. What is the first thing you notice about people?

Ooof, tough. Depends. Some quirk like glasses, lisp, moles. How they walk/talk, the way they laugh. I am a lurker by trade. Overly shy kid and writer by nature will do that to ya.

7. What is your eye color?

Dark brown. When that sun hits 🫠🫠🫦

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

I am a HUGE scaredy cat. I dont do scary movies nothin! Happy endings over here! 🤸🏽‍♀️ I will enjoy a thriller but only behind my hands and mostly starring Matthew Lillard.

9. Any talents?

.....no? I have a bunch of useless knowledge or trivia that no one asked for but ya gonna get 🤣 . Juss realized writing is considered a talent 😭 so that too 🤣

10. Where were you born?

US, West Coast baybeee

11. What are your hobbies?

Obvs, writing. Reading, sewing, cons, tarot, tv, listening to music, video games (xbox, switch, PC girlie) , Marvel. Marvel is a hobby. I will talk your ear off. That is both a threat and a promise 😚

12. Do you have any pets?

I have two gorgeous Boston Terriers who run me into the ground every day. Idk why my mom thought two was okay 🫠🫠 my Black ass tide 🥲 👏🏽

13. How tall are you?

Fun sized 5'3 and a half 👏🏽👏🏽🤣 pear shaped. I got ass for days but in the itty bitty titty committee. 😭😭😭😭😭

14. Favorite subject in high school?

Definitely English. My English teacher was so fine 🥲🥲 thats not WHY it was my fave but can ya blame me 😩 I loved reading the books but I hated the themes they shoved down our throats. What if that wasnt MY interpretation of the book??? Hmmm? Some faves include: Their Eyes Were Watching God (Teacake 🥵🥵🥵), Brave New World, Bright Lights Big City (probably where my love of second person is from) , Bronx Masquerade, and The Outsiders. And FUCK the Great Gatsby. If I hear about that damn green light one 👏🏽 mo 👏🏽 fn 👏🏽 time 👏🏽😩😡 and FUCK Of Mice and Men, he aint have to do all that in the end. And DOUBLE FUCK I Know Why the Caged Bird sings. Turned my stomach when she described the SA. Lemme stop 🥴

15. Dream Job?

Writer. I will publish, I will be successful, and I will live the life I want. I claim it 😩 on my Octavia Butler, NK Jemisin, Danielle Allen shit 👏🏽👏🏽👏🏽

Whew! That was fun 😭🤣

No pressure tags: @mybonafidefeelings @bratzmaraj @braverthanthenewworld @multiversefanfics @chaos-4baby @westside-rot @saturn-rings-writes @notapradagurl7 @wide-nose-and-wonderful @blowmymbackout @blackerthings @harmshake @targaryenvampireslayer and who wants to do one. I love learning bout my moots.

[dadsbongos]

MINIMUM WAGE LAIOS LETS gooooooo no bc the fic was so cute😭😭 obsessed w everyone’s characteristations now I wanna know more about minimumwage!dunmeshi verse lmaooo. Also I screamed when I read hawk tuwa

ngl i meant to erase hawk twah (and the ultra violet lesbian line) from the record but i was so tired i just left it in. glad i did though cuz i've gotten a couple people now saying it made them giggle

and omg!!! minimum wage dunmeshi... i assume about the grocery store i made up in my mind sorry if not

so.

laios is a courtesy clerk. very polite and kind, honestly, just not outgoing towards the customers (even downright avoiding them sometimes lol)

kabru is the tired assistant front end manager. has to stay wayyy later than the store managers and do all the actual important shit for a quarter of the pay. always on the employee's side, but is such a workplace drama instigator.

mithrun and toshiro exclusively work self-checkout and only interact with each other. toshiro because everyone else is jarring in their customer-service voices and mithrun cuz he's been there basically since the store opened and doesn't give a FUCK.

i can see falin being a pharm tech that got her brother the job. she's not really a customer favorite because she under-explains things and comes off spacey.

marcille opens at the customer service desk. she WANTED to be in the pharmacy too but couldn't remember which medications conflicted with each other and was politely "asked" to step down.

chilchuck closes the service desk. he's been there almost as long as mithrun and similarly has no desire to move up in the chain of command. doesn't want more responsibility and likes how isolated the desk is. he can sit back there and get paid for it. it's great.

izutsumi is another courtesy clerk. she started like three weeks ago and already hates it. does not mind letting laios do most of her work. has already been written up and receives many poor performance reviews from secret shoppers.

senshi wanted to be in the meat department but they had "no available positions" so he got stuck as a cashier. says he really doesn't mind (LIAR). very approachable though! gives honest item recommendations and nutrition advice based on what customers are checking out. always thanks people for stopping by. women want him, men also want him.

namari doesn't know how it happened, but she's also assistant supervisor. she started as a courtesy clerk, then skipped cashiering to go behind the customer service desk and one day was asked what she thought of becoming afem. acts more like a regular coworker than a supervisor though and doesn't care for customers. constantly wondering if she's able to step back down because the additional little jobs are extremely tedious and annoying to her lol

rin quit forever ago but came back as a cashier because kabru BEGGED her to because they needed more help.

inutade is another courtesy clerk, actually likes her job???

yaad and thistle are assistant store managers, rarely do you see them actually out on the floor. yaad is excused as an airhead and thistle's reputation flips from sweet summer child to ruthless twat constantly.

delgal is the big bad head store manager everyone has a secret power-crush on. very kind to employees on the RARE times he interacts with them. kabru sees him a lot because delgal asks for opinions on how the store could improve -- kabru adores delgal as a boss.

[king-candy-lovemail]

stone face (ace ventura x reader oneshot)

requested: yep!! heres to you, YourMomIsBlowingMe (i will never get over that username LMFAO) on wattpad

a piece of my heart will always belong to ace, the hyperfixation on both movies (and the cartoon) got me thru some tough times 😭

kinda unhappy with how this turned out but at the same time kinda proud... ironic i suppose! :P

You hated people. Always selfish, and always out to get you.

All your life, you'd worked dead-end jobs. Retail, customer service, fast food, hell, even a pyramid scheme. You did what you could to scrape by.

And then, you finally thought you'd made it big.

There were a few openings at the local sheriff's office- entry-level positions with little to no required previous experience. Nothing life-threatening or hands-on, though. More like taking phone calls and sorting papers.

Of course, you'd brushed off the offerings when you'd first seen them posted. Yeah, sure, wouldn't that be great. 

And then you saw the starting wage.

Now, here you were, filing 'important papers' for your local police station. You didn't really care about the contents of the files. You always just had headphones in, listening to Satie, or perhaps Chopin.

Most days were the same. Life was fairly bland, and the one joy of life was dancing around the filing room as you listened to classical music.

Coworkers came and went, and no one dared to bother you while you were on your break. Even your current supervisor (a temporary one at that- a few months before you began working there, a whole lot of corruption and conspiracy had went down, causing the previous supervisor to be jailed) barely spoke to you. You got your work done swiftly and efficiently, and didn't care much for socialization.

All had been relatively normal until he showed up.

You relished the peaceful days at the station. Little to no reports, barely any paperwork to file, and a quiet afternoon in the break room. But it seemed that 'peaceful' day would head in a much different direction.

When a brightly dressed, energetic individual entered the station, you were already thrown off. Boisterous people weren't your kind of crowd.

However, this man was more than just boisterous.

He had announced his arrival quite loudly, to your annoyance. He threw his business cards up in the air, letting the cheap cardstock flutter down to the floor. You couldn't help but wonder if he held a grudge against the janitorial staff.

As you pressed your headphones closer to your ears, hoping to drown out this man's incessant noisemaking, you felt your self-proclaimed safety blanket be snatched away.

"Well, well, what are we listening to?" The man's voice came out in a drawl, surprisingly smooth. You snapped your head up, and the bright figure wore a shit-eating grin as he spun the headphones in his hand before slapping them over his own ears.

"Ah! Variation 5 from Paquita, correct?" he chatted idly, spewing some nonsense fact about the ballet. You glared up at him, grabbing your headphones back quickly as he was distracted by the sound of his own voice.

He shrieked dramatically, placing his hands on his head. "Hey, hey! Watch the 'do, woulda?!" His cries fell upon deaf ears as you adjusted your headphones.

"Don't make a fool of yourself, Ventura! That there's Y/N, they've been here for a few months and don't take shit from nobody!" One of your middle-aged female coworkers cackled at her own description of you, slapping you on the back much harder than you're sure she meant to.

You stumbled forward as a result of her force, your headphones being knocked out of your hands. You cursed under your breath, glaring back up at this 'Ventura' man as you picked your saving grace back up off of the floor.

'Ventura' stuck his hand out, imploring you to shake it. You did so, albeit extremely reluctantly. As his warm hand encased yours, you glowered.

"The name's Ace, Ace Ventura. I'm a... heh, pet detective. And ya see, I'm here to celebrate my three month anniversary of SHOWING UP THIS WHOLE STATION! OH YEAH!" He pulled his hand away to, well, pelvic thrust victoriously. You stifled a laugh at his antics, and your coworker made a strangled noise of shock.

"Well look at that, Ventura! You nearly cracked the stone face!" she joked. Ace tilted his head, staring at you.

"Stone face? What are you talking about, Montoya?" he inquired. You clenched your jaw, attempting to walk off. However, Montoya held you in a vice grip.

"Well, Y/N here hasn't cracked even a smile since they first started working here. Matter of fact, me and the guys were startin' to think it was impossible for them to show an emotion other than apathy!" she hollered, her dry fits of laughter becoming slightly grating to your ears.

Montoya was one of the few coworkers you could tolerate. She was motherly, but in a rough way. She gave off a tough-love vibe, the kind of woman to noogie you and smack you if she caught you underage drinking. Sometimes, though, she still got on your nerves.

Ace smirked slightly, and you grew even more irritated. "That so?" he teased. "Well, I bet I can get 'em to laugh by the end of the year, Montoya!" She stuck out her hand, and as they shook, they announced in unison, 'deal!'.

You threw your arms up in defeat, groaning. "Maybe your deal should be to see who can stop talking about me as if I'm not even here by the end of the week!" you cried. Slipping your headphones back on, you walked back to your filing room.

Finally, peace and quiet.

You hated Ace Ventura most of all. Out of every person you'd ever met, you were sure you despised him the most.

Your once-quiet and enjoyable breaks were now interrupted by your headphones being taken suddenly and a familiar voice sounding out from behind you, an irritating 'guess who?' leaving his lips.

You would immediately stumble to get your music back desperately, and each time he would name exactly the song you were listening to.

At this point, you were honestly surprised. Who knew such a foolish, idiotic man had such knowledge on works featured mainly in ballets?

And then, one day, he had caught you dancing along as you did your work.

You had never prided yourself in your dancing, but you had endlessly studied certain ballets for years on end. Call it a hobby or an obsession- either way, it was what got you by.

You were shocked when a pair of arms wrapped around you, lifting you up at the exact moment you had planned to check if the door was still closed.

"Guess who, sugarplum?" he sang cheekily, spinning you around slightly. You screamed, unable to control your sudden outburst of giggles. 

"Hey, please, put me down!" you shrieked, still laughing as he held you close. You tried to ignore the way your body temperature rose at his proximity to you, and the way his arms were wrapped around you...

His voice was unnaturally low now as he muttered, "Told ya I could make you laugh." You furrowed your brow, annoyed once again.

"Go back to whatever it was you were doing, Ace! Tell Montoya about your little bet, and that you won, alright? But leave me out of this shit," you sneered. As you continued your work, you could tell Ace hadn't moved from where he stood. He stood there, still watching you, unmoving.

"What? Go on, you won your deal! Now go."

"That was the first time you said my name," Ace cooed, a stupid smile making its way onto his face. You rolled your eyes, turning away again.

"I like it when you say it. It's a lot better than the other names you call me," he joked. You cracked a smirk at his words.

"What? You mean shithead, bitchboy, and bastard aren't endearing enough for you?" you teased, and Ace let out a laugh.

You sighed once again, trying to push down the feelings that arose over his laugh. "Just... go now, please."

You would never admit that you had wished he would've stayed.

The station's New Year's party wasn't an event you had been chomping at the bit to attend. However, with incessant urging from Montoya and Ace, you resigned yourself to a night of observing drunken buffoons.

The partying never seemed to take a break. Montoya was already shitfaced by the time you got there, while you couldn't seem to find Ace anywhere.

"H-hey, Y/N!" Montoya stuttered out, her words slurring together. She leaned on you for support, despite your body nearly being crushed by the woman's much more muscular frame.

You coughed- her breath reeked of alcohol. "Jesus, how much did you have to drink?" The woman simply cackled at your words, grabbing a random solo cup from a nearby table.

"Oh, please Y/N! My fun has just begun!" She downed yet another swig of beer- or was it whiskey? You weren't sure what this party had to offer- before growing closer to you once again. "I'm surprised, Ventura said he couldn't get you to crack even the slightest smile. And now, here we are, end of the year. I guess he'll be losing!" 

Your breath stopped momentarily, the shock seeping in. "A-Ace said that?" 

He didn't tell her that he won their stupid little game? I guess he's... a little more mature than I gave him credit for?

Your train of thought was disrupted by Montoya's drunken squealing.

"I did it! Ha! You cracked a smile, I WIN! I'm gonna go tell that cocky Ventura right now! He's going to piss himself, hell yeah!" 

You watched as Montoya slugged away, a small smile still on your face. You covered your mouth quickly, not wanting to draw anymore attention to yourself.

"How's it goin', sugarplum?" Ace purred, sliding into the space beside you. You turned away from him, desperate to hide your grin and the heat rushing to your face.

"A-Ace, I haven't, um... I didn't, oh, um..." Your words caught in your throat, and you had to stop yourself from burying your face in his chest that instant. He slowly moved your hand away, letting out a dramatic gasp as he witnessed your smile.

"Y/N L/N, smiling?! This isn't normal, you need to see a doctor this instant!" he shouted. Luckily, with the rest of the party noise, his showing off was drowned out. He pressed a hand to your face, pretending to be feeling for your temperature.

"Oh, my!" he exclaimed, a girl-ish Southern drawl being added into his eccentric speech as he continued, "Looks like you've caught yourself a fever right there!"

You ducked away, trying not to laugh. "Ace, enough! Now, being serious. You didn't tell Montoya about how you won your stupid deal?" you inquired. Ace sucked in a breath through his teeth, placing his hands on his hips.

"Well darlin', what can I say? My reward was just getting to see you happy," he teased, cupping your face gently. You felt like your eyes were going to bulge out of your skull as he leaned in.

Your moment, however, was interrupted by a victorious Montoya.

"Guess what, Ventura! I did it! I cracked that stone face like an egg, I'll tell ya! So you lost, and I won! Suck on that, pet boy!" she screamed, throwing her arms up (and subsequently sloshing the mysterious alcoholic beverage in her cup around haphazardly).

Ace chuckled, bringing you in closer to his side with an arm wrapped around your waist. "What can I say, Montoya. You won! But as you'll soon come to find, I've won a bigger prize," he said smoothly, fingergunning at the woman. In her buzzed stupor, she just shrugged and walked away.

You turned to face him, an unimpressed look on your face.

"Really? Now that was cheesy. What's next, you're gonna kiss me as the new year rings in?" you teased, pursing your lips.

Ace let out a fake laugh, pulling you in flush to his body. You looked away instinctively as he leaned in close, whispering to you as he had the day he won that foolish game.

"On the contrary, my dear, I've never been a man who likes to wait."