#did you think of how fucking dumb your tiny espresso cups are

[twoshipsnorowboat]

Well I just spent a solid couple minutes scrolling through nicholae schiller gifs and screaming variants of FUCK YOU NICHOLAE SCHILLER to the screen. Really great use of my time, i highly recommend.

[softyoongiionly]

BlackHeart Bakery

Who says Halloween can’t be romantic?

Pairing: Emo! Jungkook x Reader

Word Count: 3.7k

Genre: fluff

A/N: HI OMG IM SO SORRY THIS IS LATE. I love you, I hope you like it. I’m sorry it isn’t longer but, I still can’t wait for you to read it.

-you never imagined that the quirky lil bakery down the street from your university would change your life  

-But it did

-“Omg shut up, you’re so dumb.”

-“Rawr xD”

-“Did you just say rawr xD out loud??? That totally defeats the purpose of its existence...”

-“Don’t cite the deep magic to me witch, I was there when it was written.”

-“And now you’re quoting the chronicles of narnia- alright just go back to sleep you big dummy...”

-“Mmm but you married a big dummy so what does that say about you”

-“Jungkook don't spoil it oh my god!”

-“Like they don’t know what’s coming already- spoiler alert losers! I get the girl.”

-“I hate you...”

-“Mm yeah- I love it when you talk dirty to me baby. The last time you said that- we ended up fuc-“

-“Ok! That’s enough! Our story begins...”

-Jungkook’s bakery was quite famous around your city

-If people didn’t come for the gaudy Halloween decorations  

-They came for the music  

-Exclusively pop punk, if you’re wondering

-It was like 2009 everyday  

-Which was comforting, considering the world has gotten a little

-Tricky

-Since then

-But anyways

-If they didn’t come for the music or the decorations

-They came for the AMAZING espresso  

-And the spooky themed treats

-But if you’re being honest

-You think the main thing that keeps them coming back

-Is Jungkook  

-If his sweeping black hair didn’t get you

-Or the adorable cheeky twinkle in his eyes

-It was the tattoos and the piercings  

-He looked like he walked right off of a black veil brides music video set  

-He was hot

-This was obvious

-But he didn’t seem to think so

-You had come to the conclusion that he was oblivious  

-he shoved his feet into his big black doc martens every morning  

-Slipped on his beaded bracelets and studded chokers

-Pulled his fall out boy t-shirt over his

-Massive

-Tattooed

-Biceps

-And just thought hm

-I’m pretty average I guess (lol)

-That’s a direct quote from him btw

-Men truly are hopeless

-Jungkook opened the bakery two years ago

-He had mentioned to you that he had saved up money from his 3 part time jobs to put a down payment on the building  

-Which was wedged between a sex shop

-And a thrift store

-And honestly his bakery

-Blackheart Bakery, if you’re being specific  

-Fits right in

-Jungkook refuses to hire new staff

-“They won’t do it right.” He whined to you one day

-“One time I tried to hire this guy and he put the sugared googly eyes on the cookie skeletons ALL WRONG”

-“How do you put googly eyes on wrong?” You had giggled

-“you just do- i- See? This is exactly why I can’t hire anyone...”

-You had started chewing on the end of your pencil in the midst of your laughter

-It was an unconscious habit

-And it makes Jungkook shift uncomfortably, his hands moving off of the top of your table

-“Don’t do that...” he had muttered, smirking to himself as he walked back behind the counter  

-he did that a lot

-He’d mutter something  

-Mildly flirtatious under his breath and then  

-Just walk away

-It was quite confusing

-But honestly you had a feeling he was just a filrty person  

-You certainly weren’t the only girl he smirked at

-Not that you pay attention

-Ok  

-Maybe you do  

-Kinda  

-Pay attention  

-but it’s not your fault!!!!  

-You just  

-Can’t help but feel a little jealous

-You kiiiiiinda have a little thing for him

-Ok

-Maybe it’s a big thing  

-Maybe it’s a massive

-Gigantic

-Towering  

-Crush  

-But look at him!!!

-You simply couldn’t be blamed

-It was his fault  

-Yep

-That’s what you’re going with

-It was Jungkook

-And his tight t shirts

-His ripped jeans

-His dangly earrings

-His tattoos

-His big

-Stupid boots

-Ugh ok

-Focus  

-You have work to do

-The whole reason you began coming to Jungkook's cafe was so you -could find a consistent place to study for your exams

-You were in school to become a teacher :)  

-And teachers have to study very very hard  

-Educating the youth is no easy feat  

-Jungkook had asked what you were studying during the first week you arrived at his spooky house of baked goods

-“Oh I’m an education major”

-“Ahh so you’re getting an education about...education.” He concludes

-“I love it.”

-“So meta.”

-“Are they educating you on the disparities between impoverished children and wealthier children?”

-His wide eyes were brimming with genuine curiosity  

-You kind of got a kick out of how candid he was about such heavy conversation topics

-“Not as much as they should be but, I’m actually writing a paper on a similar topic right now...”

-This caused a brilliant grin to come over his face

-It was almost blinding really

-And it made your heartbeat all wonky  

-“Of course you are. You look smart like that...”

-He had backed away from your table then, seemingly satisfied

-Had you passed the vibe check?

-“I’ll leave you to your paper.” He nodded to your laptop but as he walked away, he pivoted back towards you on and the heel of his combat boot, “welcome to Blackheart Bakery by the way, let me know if I can get you anything.”

-Another brilliant smile is sent your way  

-“Thank you.” You had smiled back, sending a tiny wave his way

-Which in turn, made HIS heartbeat all wonky  

-You’re cute

-Like really cute

-And despite how often it may seem like his eyes are elsewhere

-They are ALWAYS on you

-Every chance he gets he is glancing your way

-Smirking to himself at how endearing you are

-Brow furrowed

-Lips pouted in concentration  

-Completely oblivious to his gaze

-He has to remind himself to look away  

-He doesn’t want to be a creep

-“Creepy men deserved to get kicked in the teeth...”

-He’s said this to you before when another patron had made you uncomfortable

-Jungkook kicked him out immediately  

-“If you don’t leave, I’ll have no choice but to kick you in the teeth. One, because I can’t compromise my personal philosophy and two because you’re making my favorite customer uncomfortable.”

-Oh look there goes your heartbeat again

-WONKY

-The guy leaves in an angry rush, flipping Jungkook off in the process

-Saying something about leaving a bad Yelp review  

-He doesn’t care tho

-He definitely doesn’t want to be a creep

-You’re just so  

-Pretty

-Ugh

-He rolls his eyes at himself behind the espresso bar

-The latte in front of him neglected  

-In need of a bit of foam

-“Focus Jeon, she’s just a chick...”

No wait

-“She’s just a woman. A woman who I respect, like I respect all women...”

-He’s been watching a lot of feminist theory on YouTube

-He likes staying educated  

-And also fuck the patriarchy

-The man waiting for his drink has arched a brow at this point, wondering if his barista has lost his mind

-“Uhhh medium...” he checks the cup for his awful hand writing, “ghostly toasted marshmallow latte!”

-“Thanks.” The guy mutters, throwing a judging look Jungkook's way  

-He gives him a lazy salute as the guy struts away with a briefcase in tow

-“Thaaanks.” Jungkook mocks him, his face scrunching up in annoyance  

-Stupid man

-With his stupid briefcase  

-As Jungkook is pulling out a batch of cream cheese frosting stuffed pumpkin muffins  

-Or as Jungkook calls them

-PUNK-in Muffins

-Movement at the counter catches his eye

-is that

-”oh shit...” He grunts, hastily wiping his hands on his apron and rushing over to the counter

-normally he would meander

-stroll

-or even slump to greet any new guests at this hour

-and by this hour

-he means 45 minutes before closing

-Jungkook’s bakery is open til midnight on weeknights

-9pm on Sundays

-and 3am on Saturdays (for the culture of course, gotta keep it spooky)

-tonight happens to be a Friday night and the person awaiting his assistance is

-you

-”You’re still here?” He gawks, the black polish on his nails glimmering as he punches in a few keys on the register

-You offer him a tired and slightly amused smile, “No. Y/N died around 4:30, you’re speaking to her ghost. Please leave your message after the tone.”

-Jungkook cracks a smile, his palms resting on flat on the counter, “Do ghosts check their voicemails?”

-“Oh of course not but, I will be checking yours because you have access to caffeine.”

-Jungkook laughs

-no...he giggles  

-and it’s fucking cute

-but you digress

-“I feel like I should cut you off...this is your 4th latte; I’m pretty sure you’re 80% caffeine at this point...”

-“Noooo, don’t do that.” You whine slumping against the counter, “I just need to finish this one page...”

-He quirks a brow as he scribbles something on your cup, unimpressed with your statement, “You said that three hours ago. I’ll make you another one but I’m not putting an extra shot in.”

-Your face turns up in protest but he click his tongue against his teeth , shaking a manicured finger at you

-“Ah ah- nope. I don’t want to hear it. You either take that or I’m making you a hot chocolate and shutting the buildings power off.”

-With a dramatic sigh, you concede

-“Ugh fine. Here-” You go to hand him your debit card but he shakes his head

-“Put that away.”

-You want to protest but given the fact that he’s made the rules thus far during this interaction, you doubt you’d be able to stop him.

-A smile appears on your face then, appreciative of his generosity

-“Thank you.”

-He merely grins, waving you off before rolling up the sleeves of his black Blink 182 shirt

-as soon as his tattoos are out

-all the moisture leaves your mouth

-you try your hardest not to stare at him

-expertly, he eases the espresso shots into the milk, tongue poking between his lips in concentration

-and you

-being sleep-deprived

-and a little loopy

-decide to  

-flirt????????

-if you could even call it that

-which you could but you shouldn’t

-“For the record, when I finally dig my way out of this of mountain of death I’m stuck in, I will definitely take you up on that hot chocolate...”

-Jungkook’s brow quirks at the tone of your voice, his hands suddenly itching with nerves

-was that

-was that flirty?

-should he flirt back?

-“My hot chocolate is legendary. You won’t be disappointed.” His lips display a small grin as he places the lid atop your finished latte, “Also mountain of death is a great name and I WILL be stealing it.”

-You giggle

-again

-“and I WILL be suing you for copyright.”

-He laughs now, wiping up the bit of milk he spilled

-the sinewy muscles in his forearm tensing and untensing

“Good luck getting me to show up to court.”

-and that’s kinda how it was between you and Jungkook

-for like six months

-it was a little bit flirty but never anything to push either over you over the edge.

-and speaking of being on edge

-recently, you had gone from vacationing in your timeshare on the edge

-to signing a 35 year mortgage contract  

-4 bedrooms

-2.5 bathrooms

-of pure

-unrelenting

-stress

-you could feel it in the middle of your back

-shoving itself up between your shoulder blades

-your body seemed to ache with it

-the worst part being

-it was Halloween

-You should be out with your friends, having fun

-wearing itchy costumes and drinking sugary drinks

-but instead, your headed towards the bakery to work

-Jungkook was behind the counter, smiling happily at a family dressed like the cast of scooby doo

-from what you could see he was wearing a skeleton onesie

-his jet black hair tousled perfectly above his head

-he looked adorable

-(and hot)

-He notices you instantly, his face turning up in surprise

-you offer up a small wave and head over to your table

-you know he’s going to say something about you being there but

-you don’t really have much of a choice

-this work has to be done

-it takes him a second to spot you but when he does

-he seems to perk up

-his smile brightening as he looks back towards his customer

-as you’re setting everything up, you feel a presence (not the spooky kind) at the end of your table

-it’s Jungkook and he has your regular order in one hand, along with something wrapped in skeleton-patterned parchment paper

-“I know, I know.” You acknowledge before he’s even able to chide you for being here

-He smirks “What are you doing studying on the holiest day of the year??”

-You giggle

-“The holiest day of the year huh?”

-“Of course. Halloween is the one night a year that the homies can dress like total -sluts and no one can say anything about it.”

-This makes you giggle again

-“And you went with slutty skeleton huh? I love it- it’s like as naked as you can possibly get.”

-He chuckles, gesturing to his costume

-His floppy black hair getting in his face

-“Damn right baby.”

-The way he grins tells you the pet name is a joke

-But the deepening of his voice gets to you anyway

-“Thank you for this. I promise I’ll get out of your hair early tonight.”

-“The only thing I’m worried about getting out of my hair is this white spray paint. You’re welcome to stay as long as you want.”

-He’s put a streak of white spray paint in his raven locks

-Why? You’re not certain

-Does it look good on him, like everything else does?

-Absolutely

-Its been a few hours since your night of studying began

-Jungkook’s dropped off two free lattes since you’ve arrived  

-As well as a slice of his ‘I write cinnamon not tragedies’ bread

-Which was equally hilarious and delicious

-You caught him glancing over at your table a few times but you didn’t think anything of it

-He’s probably just checking to make sure that no one needs your table

-His bakery is packed most nights but Halloween is a special night at Blackheart Bakery

-He has a trick or treat counter set up with free (homemade) candy

-A photo op complete with a fake haunted house backdrop

-A Halloween playlist

-And a bunch of discounts on his signature lattes and food

-you watch him amongst the chaos

-He is completely unfazed

-He seems elated at the amount of customers he has

-he grins and laughs at something a man dressed like Thor says at his counter

-he seems entirely in his element

-you realize that the denial tactics you’ve been trying out haven’t been working

-because this floppy haired, tattooed, slutty skeleton/baker kind of has a hold on your heart

-you’ve been friends for a long time now

-he always makes sure you’re taken care of

-he always asks if you’re ok

-he always gives you this little grin

-it feels like a secret sometimes

-but maybe it’s been his way of letting you know where he stands

-he’s been bringing you lattes and pastries for months now

-he never charges you full-price

-he always reminds you not to work too hard

-he

-fuck

-he likes you doesn’t he?

-you look back over at the counter to see him bending over and handing a skeleton cookie to a little girl dressed like Captain Marvel

-he laughs at something she says

-his eyes focused entirely on her and whatever she seems to be proclaiming to him  

-your heart goes wonky again

-alright

-enough is enough

-you’re doing this  

-Jungkook’s done so much of the work thus far

-it’s time for you to seal the deal

-and if he rejects you, well…

-you can just crawl into a hole and never come out again

-easy peasy

-You can feel his eyes on you as you get up to take your place in line

-luckily there isn’t anyone else behind you

-rejection with an audience would certainly be worse

-Jungkook has his witty comment ready for you as you approach the register

-“I know for a fact you haven’t finished your third latte and I’m not making you another one until-“

-“I’m not here for another latte.” You laugh, trying to ignore the thrashing of your heartbeat

-“No? Well, are you finally going to try my Welcome to the Blackened Chicken Parade Burger then? I’ve been asking you for like three weeks…”

-god he’s fucking cute

-“I’m here to ask you out.”

-Jungkook swears he feels his heart stop

-“You’re here to…”

-He repeats the first part of your response as his he didn’t hear you

-his black fingernails anxiously tapping against the countertop

-“I’m here to ask you out- on a date.”

-Jungkooks face seems to go through various stages of confusion before a shy smirk presents itself on his pretty mouth

-“Me? You’re asking me-“ He places a hand on his chest, “-out on a date?”

-“Yes!” You laugh, slapping the counter a bit too hard, your nerves getting the best of you, “Are you down?”

-He shakes his head but his answer contradicts his movements

-“So down, beyond down. There is no one on Earth who is more DOWN than I am. Yes. My answer is yes. 50000% yes.”

-you can’t help the smile on your lips

-“great. So are you free next Friday then?”

-He grins with his teeth this time, nodding emphatically  

-“Consider the shop closed.”

-and so it was

-you returned to your table moments later  

-feeling on top of the world

-you did it

-you asked Jungkook out

-and he said yes

-and now you

-NOW YOU HAVE A DATE WITH JUNGKOOK

-LOOK AT YOU GO

-TAKING CHARGE

-you try your best to engage with your studies but with Jungkook on your mind

-its really hard

-roughly two hours later, things at the bakery have finally started to slow down

-“Hey uh- Y/N?”

-Jungkook's voice that pulls you out of your studying trance

-he’s standing at the entrance of his back room, waving you over with his hand

-and who are you to deny him?

-you make your way over there, annoyed at the instant increase in your heartrate

-he stands awkwardly to the side and gestures to the boxes on the metal rack

-“I just remembered that I’ve never given you a tour of the place. I give all my regulars a tour of the stockroom and my office and uh-”

-he cuts himself off and clumsily cups your cheek

-he pulls you into a kiss

-a really good kiss

-his lips are so warm

-he smells like cinnamon

-you could literally die happy

-The ridiculous nature of his first attempt to kiss you, makes you giggle into his mouth

-you feel him smile, his hands smushing your cheeks together as he pulls away

-“Ok I lied. There is no tour. I’ve just been watching you focus on your computer for the last two hours and you’re just really fucking cute and-”

-this time, it’s you who cuts him off

-“You better give me an actual tour next time. How else am I going to steal your secret recipes?”

-he scoffs in mock offense

-“Ah ha! So that’s the only reason you asked me out huh? Should I be calling you Plankton instead of Y/N? Ew no wait- that would make me Mr. Krabs and he’s a dirty capitalist...”

-You laugh, “Oooh good point. Guess you’ll just have to be Karen, my computer wife.”

-This makes him laugh now and the sound warms your soul

-“I could live with that- I like your last name better anyways.”

-with another kiss, your adventure with the emo baker of your dreams begins

-It may have been Halloween but it sure felt like Christmas to you

[v-as-in-victor]

Thanks to Rowan for playing headcanon games with me. This is really fucking dumb. Please enjoy.

Widowmaker

(A MacGyver 1985 coffee shop AU enemies to lovers fic snippet except I'll get bored before they hook up. Murdoc is a non-binary icon in this fic because I said so.)

Murdoc can't keep employees. First of all, they have no tolerance for stupidity. Becky, they think her name was, (it was actually Marcella), set the temperature on Gaggia to 91.2 degrees farenheit when Murdoc had explicitly dialed that machine in to produce the best cup at 90.4 degrees. Second of all, employees apparently take offense at Murdoc's manners. Certainly, they have been known to say "I'll learn your name if you make it three months," but that's not rude, that's just honest.

And thirdly, the employees complain that working at Killer Java is like being constantly under secret shopper surveillance. It's not Murdoc's fault that they like to change their appearance frequently. If their employees are too stupid to recognize them, it's hardly their fault. Although, secretly, they do enjoy watching the idiots stammer with alarm when they finally realize that the person ordering them around is the shop's owner.

Aside from the employee turnover, running Killer Java is very satisfying. Murdoc never misses in their aim to pull the best espresso drinks in this town. Every perfect shot pulled gets a polaroid picture taken, stashed away in their scrapbook of memories.

The only thing that's getting right under Murdoc's skin is the coffee shop (if you can call it that) across the street, Mac's Place.

Mac's place is not sleek. It does not have a stable of Italian espresso machines kept in the finest running order. It serves something that is a cross between straight drip and pour over. Certainly, the amount of borosilicate glass and copper tubing behind the counter indicates the mysteries of a scientific mind at work, and what that scientific mind pours from a large erlenmeyer flask is a fine, delicious cup of joe. The beans are the secret.

The owner, MacGyver, opens the shop when he's around, or sometimes one of a ragtag gang of employees will open up if Mac's sent beans back from wherever he's traveling. Given the rarity and quality of the beans, the reasonable price of a cup of coffee, and the sketchy hours, some people are convinced it's a money laundering front. But if you catch Mac when he's in town, he'll just lean across the counter, smile easy, and say "I paid fair for them, and I sell a cup at a fair price, works out for me."

He doesn't mention that paying fair may have involved undermining a government or preventing a destructive logging project.

Murdoc serves their coffee in tiny porcelain demitasse. Mac serves his coffee in diner mugs the worse for wear, logos from diners all over the country on them. Murdoc has a contract with the best patisserie in town. Sometimes Mac has a spicy tofu casserole special running with his coffee. Murdoc keeps reliable hours and can offer you a cup that is every bit as fine as the cup you had the day before. Mac is there sometimes, and it's anyone's guess what variety of coffee he'll have in. (Though the kopi luwak experiment was not repeated.)

So why, why, why, Murdoc thought, glowering across the street at the cheery all-American neon and counter stool coffee shop across the street, did Mac have lines forming to drink his pathetic drip coffee when Murdoc had the same steady but moderate flow of customers day after day.

"MacGyver", they huffed angrily under their breath.

It's important that you know that Murdoc is living their best life. Growing up very smart but very different from the other children could have lead to some dangerous places. Did, in fact. When they were much younger they had been recruited into a shady organization of assassins, due to their temperament and intellectual aptitude.

Their life might have been exciting in entirely different ways except: "Is this coffee robusta? How long has this pot been on? Since last night?" they'd been frankly insulted by the quality of the break room situation in between the pitches about how they could change the future of the world and earn a lot of money. So they made a rapid if somewhat violent escape and moved cross country to set up their dream shop.

Mac's got his eye on the shop across the street. For one thing, former Killer Java employees keep turning up looking for work. For another, it's kinda fun to see what outfit the owner will wear on any given day. Murdoc's former employees call them "disguises", but Mac's been around a few theater kids in his time. Whatever Murdoc wears, whether it's cargo pants and army boots, or a shoulder-padded wrap dress, they always have something about them that just fascinates Mac.

(That's all I have for now, if anyone actually wants more of this I could keep writing. Rowan has given me excellent plot points and character notes to explore further.)

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Creed Imagine: PRT TWO

“It’s either me or Bianca”

“Y/N, girl, I know you’re in the damn house your car is outside.”

That doesn’t mean anything she could have taken an uber somewhere. Y/N hated driving.

Knock knock knock

“Y/N.”

She looked back at The Shade Room post again scrolling through the paparazzi photos of Bianca in London sitting on her drummers lap tonguing him down while his hands cupped her small perky ass. Both of them were cheating motherfuckers.

“This shit is tired, Y/N,” She could hear Adonis’s body slump against the door, “I know what your thinking...just open the door and say that shit to my face.”

She opened the door alright, Adonis falling flat on his back into her apartment. He shot up off the ground abruptly groaning in pain. She just gave him a coy smile with her heart-shaped lips while resting her hands on her naked hips. She was only wearing a Nike sports bra and yoga pants. He closed the door to her Urban loft, walking past her and practically yanking his North Face puffer jacket from his body.

“What the fuck was that for?” Adonis kicked off his shoes and made his way to her open kitchen placing his phone on the kitchen island. Damn, this nigga was so comfortable like they didn’t have an argument the night before.

“Felt like you deserved it Creed,” she rolled her eyes at Adonis while walking past him to pick up her shot of espresso.

“Yeah, okay,” Adonis drummed his fingers on the counter while staring Y/N down hungrily, “So are you gonna tell me I told you so and that I’m a dumb motherfucker?”

“Why should I remind you?” She licked some espresso from her lips, “Listen, make this shit quick I have some clients coming over for some hair and I have to go into the shop today.”

His jaw tightened and he gave her that knock a nigga out look. The look that he always gave her when she was being a brat and when he was deep in that pussy.

“Well?!” She raised her voice, “I ain’t got all day, Donnie.”

“I’m sorry,” He spoke with a grunt, “I’m sorry I did you like that last night. Yeah...I already knew about B cheating...I knew for a minute but I didn’t call her out on her bullshit because I was fucking with you. Anyway, this the second time she-“

“Second?” Y/N chuckles, “So...the guy from before isn’t the drummer?”

“Nah,” Adonis rolls his eyes before picking up an apple from Y/N’s fruit basket, “THAT'S what’s fucking me up right now.”

“Wow.” Y/N shook her head slowly, “y’all need therapy.”

Adonis mugged Y/N, “Really? That’s how we’re doing this?”

“I mean,” she shrugged with a dry laugh, “Yeah. You still love her, you don’t love me since I’m only good for my pussy, you both have a daughter to care for, I’m just...”

“Just what?” He squinted angrily at her.

Y/N placed her cup in the sink, “Listen, D, let’s just be honest with ourselves, okay? We both want to fuck each other. You came here expecting me to sooth you and fuck you, possibly lick away your tears and me,” she pointed to herself while walking up to Adonis, “I just want some dick.”

Adonis opened his mouth to speak but Y/N placed a finger over his plush lips.

“Stop talking and gimmie some dick, Adonis.”

She didn’t want to hear a word he had to say. She was gonna get what the fuck she wanted. Y/N was tired of Adonis taking advantage of her. She was going to call the shots now. Bianca was the least of her problems. Fuck her honestly. Amara was such a precious baby that didn’t deserve this. Two busy parents shoved her into a baby sitter's arms. Fucking sad. She loves Adonis and Y/N knows he loves her too from that intimate evening but at this moment she felt like an ice queen. He didn’t deserve the sweet Y/N right now.

“That’s what this is, right?” She literally yanked her sports bra from her chest. Her C-cup breasts bounced free and Donnie’s eyes damn near fell out of his head. She pressed her chest into his solid one before shoving him into the kitchen island hard. Donnie grunted in pain while his hard eyes glared at her. Y/N held his gaze, her hands pulling her yoga pants off and tossing those over the counter. Adonis raised a single brow at her. No panties under those yoga pants. No wonder why that thick ass jiggled so much.

“Ima take what I want,” she got down on her knees, pulling Donnie’s sweat pants and briefs down. He was already hard and ready to be sucked.

“Damn, Y/N,” Adonis took in a sharp breath when Y/N’s warm tight lips wrapped around him snuggly. The sounds of her sucking and gagging bounced off the kitchen walls. Donnie’s lip poked out and his eyes became slits as he watched her take what she wanted. Damn, this bitch was the truth. She sucked Donnie all the way down with no hands since they were planted on the sides of the kitchen island to keep her balance.

“You’re taking that shit, Y/N, damn, girl,” Adonis reaches out to grab her hair but Y/N smacked his hand away harshly saying, “DONT touch me.”

She swallows his dick again. Adonis whispers oh my God.

“Fuck, you got my dick so wet,” Adonis pulls his black long sleeve shirt up to rest under his chin, “why you sucking on my dick like that?”

She didn’t even care to answer him. All she cared about was swallowing this big dick asshole. She popped her mouth off using one hand to jerk his sloppy dick while her mouth sucked on his tight balls. He almost buckled from that. Y/N had his ass.

“Damn, fuck, shit,” He placed his bottom lip between his teeth, “I’m cumming don’t waste my shit, bitch.”

“Gimmie my shit then, nigga,” Her lips found the swollen tip of his thick veiny dick. He pulsates in her warm wet mouth before his thick load filled her throat up. She didn’t flinch. Y/N gulped. His hands came up to squeeze the sides of the counter to control the tremors. He looks so beautiful when he cums.

“Nasty little thing.”

She licks some cum from her lips, “eat this pussy,” she takes one of her legs and plopped it right on top of the kitchen island. Y/N takes her fingers to pull her phat pussy lips apart. The brown color of her gel polish looked so pretty wet while rubbing that beautiful pussy. Adonis came down on his knees, grabbing Y/N’s thigh to keep it up so she wouldn’t move. He takes his tongue to lick all of that honey that soaked her folds. Y/N’s hand cupped the back of Donnie’s neck, pushing his face in further. His lips sucked and kissed her all over. Y/N’s toes curled and her nails painfully dragged along Donnie’s neck. He was going to be scarred from that.

“Eat this pussy,” She was growing weak and almost fell to the floor. Adonis got up from the kitchen floor, picked Y/N up, and put her on the counter. She wanted that pussy ate from the back so Y/N carefully got on her knees on the counter and arched forward placing her pussy in Donnie’s face. Adonis slapped her ass twice before his mouth was back on her pussy. Y/N’s cheek rested against the cold ceramic countertop of the kitchen island.

“Damn, you’re eating that thang, mmm,” She reaches back to grab the top of Donnie’s head, “You miss the taste of this pussy?”

“Fuck, yes,” Adonis spoke into her juicy pussy.

“I bet you do, Mr. Creed,” she said with a harsh tone, “The way you eating this pussy I know you miss this.”

Adonis slaps her cheeks again from how bratty she was being.

“Yeah, suck on that juicy clit,” Her eyelids fluttered, “slurp this pussy.”

Y/N was pumping him up like she was cheering on the sidelines at a fight. He was going harder and harder the more she talked and now she could only moan.

“Yes, yes, yes!” she froze. Adonis was drinking her dry. She clawed the countertop while her ass shook in his face from her orgasm.

“Fuck, baby,” Adonis licked his lips and wiped his chin, “Tastes just as sweet as I remembered.”

“And don’t you forget,” Y/N turned and wrapped her legs around Adonis bringing him closer to her while she sat on the kitchen island. Her lips wrapped around his bottom lip to suck the taste of her pussy off then her tongue slithered into his open mouth for more. They had a heated kissing session with moans and sucking of lips. Adonis pulls away, his lips and nose wet from how hard they were kissing, taking off his shirt. There was that rock hard body her favorite boxer had.

“C’ mere,” she whispered, “Bring that body and that dick to me.”

He came back to her and picked her up from that counter. Like a magnet that can’t be separated their lips were back on each other with desperation. Y/N could feel Adonis rub her slick folds with that thick tip of his. She moved her hips to cause some friction on her clit. Adonis has one hand wrapped in her weave while the other wrapped tightly around her slim thick body.

“You ain’t fucking me yet,” Y/N whispers in Donnie’s ear. His lips attacked her neck to distract her so she wouldn’t see it coming. And she didn’t. He plunged into her so sharp her body curled up and shook. She clawed Donnie’s back and stared into his eyes with hankering desire. His dick was so rock-hard. He really was horny for Y/N when he came knocking on her door. The heels of her tiny feet nudged his back each time he entered her wetness. Y/N’s arms came back to grasp the kitchen island. The muscles in her back shook as Adonis literally wrecked her pussy. He handled her little body with hard-hearted strokes. Like she said, they both needed to be fucked.

Ring ring ring

Adonis’s phone steadily rang as his meaty pipe ruthlessly took Y/N’s pussy. With a moan stuck in her throat, Y/N looked over at his phone noticing the B-I-A-N-C-A.

Bianca Creed.

“You’re cheating ass wife is call-calling you,” she spoke between strokes.

“Shut up,” Adonis grabbed Y/N with vigor bouncing her over his dick to teach her a lesson. Y/N’s head was being yanked back with Adonis’s hand wrapped around her bundles.

“D-Donnie,” She stuttered. He didn’t say a word but her cheeks clapping on his balls was enough of a response to how good he was fucking her.

Ring ring ring

“Fuck,” Adonis bit down on his bottom lip with a scrunch of his nose from Y/N tightening around his length. “That’s how you grabbing my dick, Baby girl?”

“Cuz you’re fucking me so good,” she pressed her sweaty cheek against his equally sweaty forehead, “God, you’re in my pussy, nigga.”

Ring ring ring

Y/N was ready to snatch his phone up and throw it down the garbage disposal.

“Would you like me to answer your phone?” Y/N spoke with distaste, “It’s pissing me o-off!”

Adonis has her entire body shaking and her eyes watering. This man was no joke. Shit felt like fireworks erupted inside of her from how hard she came. He had to grab Y/N to stop her from falling.

“FUCK DONNIE!!!!” She moaned out. He didn’t wait for her to gather herself. Adonis flipped Y/N around, arching her over the kitchen island.

“Spread them fucking cheeks.” He barked out and she could feel his spit hit her back. Y/N pulled her ass cheeks apart to show him all the cream from her cum.

“That’s all we do right? Just fucking?” He angrily slaps her ass, “And I don’t know who the fuck you talking to I’ll answer my fucking phone when I please, bitch.”

She could see her breath fogging the ceramic counter from how hard her cheek was pressed into the surface.

Just fuck this pussy,” Y/N bounced her ass against Adonis’s dick, “Put it on me.”

“I got that ass don’t worry.”

He continues his beating on Y/N’s pussy. She could feel her ass cheeks sting from how hard she clapped back on him.

Ring ring ring

After Bianca blew up Donnie’s phone for the fifth time the screen showed a series of heated angry messages from her.

DONNIE WHERE ARE YOU?!

ANSWER YOUR FUCKING PHONE ADONIS!!

I know you saw the photos... smh, can you please talk to me?!

I don’t understand the silent treatment when you’re out there doing your own dirt!

I know about her.

Y/N!

“Oh, fuck, she knows about me?!” Y/N let out a sharp moan before her face was lifted from the counter by her hair.

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.”

She reached back to claw his abdomen. He grabs her wrist.

“Hmph, I got you feenin’ for this dick.”

“Donnie-“

“Stop talking-“

“Fuck, Adonis-“

“WHAT I JUST SAY?! Oh, you bitch, fuck!”

Adonis planted both of his hands on the counter of the island with a loud slap. His fingers curled into fists and his hips snapped forward rapidly before cumming deep in Y/N’s pussy. He never came inside of her until this very moment. She looked back at him over her shoulder with bewildered eyes. She had her mouth hanging open and a soft moan escaping while their foreheads touched. His hips moved slowly and his dick was still firm in her pussy.

“Shit,” He reached out to grab his phone. Y/N’s eyes wavered and her lip twisted up to fight a cry.

“Damn, she really blowing me up,” He actually laughed. It was an irate laugh. It was as if Y/N could feel the coldness behind it.

“Are you going to call her back?” Y/N couldn’t stop herself from asking.

“Yeah,” he placed his phone face down on the counter, “but first I gotta fuck you again.”

“God, Donnie,” Y/N felt vanquished. His cum mixed with her cum and the firmness of his dick tugging on the underside of her clit has her ready to squirt all over the kitchen floor.

“Why do you do this to me, girl?” His words were in her ear while his calloused hands stroked down her spine, “fit around my dick like this and make me cum three or four times. Fuckin’ trappin’ me.”

Adonis started demolishing Y/N’s pussy again.

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh@chaneajoyyy@pananegra@theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah@moonlight-night-sky @eyeknowmywrites  @crowngold@njadakillthiscookie@blktinkerbell@luvanxi @sheisexcellent1@chocolatedippedinhoney@brandithecrystalgem@dababydababydababydababy@soulfulbeauty19@btitannaaa@sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted@harleycativy @rbhp@thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone@bugngiz@palmstreesallday@skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo​ @truglori @queenflaws

[reddielibrary]

prompt: both work at the coffee shop and talk sometimes but that's enough to make each of them fall for each other. one day business is slow so richie and eddie get some coffee and have a mini date in their own job!! boom then they're rlly in love and they all live happily ever after - for anonymous

written by: Alexis | @quixoticquest

read on AO3

“I’m sorry ma’am, the peppermint bark latte is a seasonal drink. We don’t serve it until December.”

“What? Are you kidding me?” The woman across the counter levelled an incredulous glare at Eddie, as if he had spit in her face instead of reporting something he thought to be very reasonable. “I drove all the way here and you don’t have it?”

“We don’t. It’s a holiday drink,” Eddie answered, clinging to the scripted explanations that usually worked on perfectly rational customers. Who the fuck wanted a hot mint chocolate coffee in the summer anyway?

This woman, however, was anything but rational. “Can’t you just grab some syrup from the back, or whatever the hell you use to make it? It’s not that hard to flavor a latte.”

“We don’t have what we use to flavor it, ma’am. Since it’s, y’know, June?”

“Don’t get fresh with me! I know what month it is!”

“Then you should know we don’t have any fuc-”

“Whoa there, amigo.” The edge in Eddie’s voice died off as his coworker sidled up next to him - as if there was any room in front of the POS for two. “That’s no way to talk to a customer as lovely as any other.” Smooth as you like, Richie took over, laying it on thick. “No worries, ma’am, we might not have peppermint bark, but I’ll tell you what we do have - mint, and mocha. I’ll whip you up a latte with both and you won’t even know the difference. We don’t have the peppermint flakes to sprinkle on top but I can do chocolate shavings. Whaddaya say?”

For a tense moment, they glared between the three of them, The Good, the Bad and the Ugly style. Eddie wasn’t sure where he and Richie fell but he was pretty damn certain this nuisance customer was decidedly the Ugly.

“I guess that’s fine,” she finally grumbled, leaving Eddie to wonder where that grudging acceptance had been when he was dishing out facts.

“Awesome! Eds here’ll ring you up for that. You want any whipped cream?”

“Just to melt into the latte? No thank you.”

The awful woman passed over a wad of bills and moved on to the pickup counter without even dropping her change in the tip jar. When no one came through the dinky door at the front of the shop, and no one to the register, Eddie took up the flimsy plastic sleeve of hot cups Richie had been using to stock up, before he swooped in to save the day.

“I could have handled that,” he mumbled next to Richie as he shoved cups into the rack, unable to use his normal volume with the Peppermint Bark Bitch within earshot.

“You could have,” Richie exclaimed, nodding enthusiastically, squirting equal parts mocha and mint into the steaming cup in his hand. “You would have cursed her out and it would have been glorious. I might weep hot tears of joy just thinking about it. But also, like, you probably would have gotten fired, which isn’t so glorious, ya know? ‘Specially since I’d be so lost without you.”

Richie winked, and topped the dumb latte off with a sprinkle of the aforementioned chocolate shavings, before passing it down to the pickup counter. Eddie stood there, hands planted on his hips, frowning - doing a very good impression of someone who didn’t get flustered at the mercy of one stupid wink.

With that awful woman on her merry stupid way, the rest of the shop appeared exceedingly empty. Four o’clock on a weekday in the summer wasn’t the most prolific hour for a small town coffee shop, with lunchtime passed and the morning rush long over - which meant all they could really do before their shift was over, was clean and restock until someone else came in.

When it came to maintenance, Eddie always worked faster than Richie, wiping down the machines and filling the cups and lids like a champ - while the dumb brunet spent ten minutes at a time with a rag in the pastry case. Depending on how long they had been there, he may or may not start whining too. Whatever the reason for Richie’s shitty cleaning ethic, though, he made up for it in spades with his customer service. How he got through the full five or six hours without throwing a piping hot cup of coffee in some asshole’s face, Eddie would never know.

“This is boring,” Richie huffed, already whining as he crossed his arms leaning over the counter, where the orange afternoon sun set all the muted browns in the wood and his hair and apron to sepia. “I dunno why mid shift has to do this. Night shift does a whole fucking sweep of the place and God knows only the truckers and drunks are gonna be in here then.”

“Maybe food service isn’t for you,” Eddie mentioned, just barely managing to keep the smile from curling in the corner of his mouth.

“You’re right.” The four-eyed brunet sighed as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders (he didn’t), spinning to perch the other way, with his elbows balanced on the counter. His voice took on a soulful southern twang. “Mama always told me to get outta this one horse town. That I was born for the stage. That we’re all born superstars. She’d roll my hair, and put my lipstick on, in the glass of her boud-”

He got a face full of coffee-soaked rag, courtesy of Eddie. “Those are the lyrics to Born This Way!”

He didn’t realize he was staring until Richie transitioned entirely, hauling himself up to stand straight, for once.

“You don’t belong here either,” he mentioned, pointing a finger toward Eddie’s chest. “I’d peg you for a lawyer, but I’m not sure that mouth of yours would fly with the judge.”

“You’re one to talk,” Eddie retorted. Truthfully, he didn’t know what he wanted, or where he wanted to be. Just that this job payed a little better than minimum wage, included tips, and would hopefully get him somewhere better, someday.

He could think of one thing he might want though, glancing sidelong at Richie, aimlessly tidying the display next to the counter. And he didn’t even have to pay for it at all.

“I can’t really think of anything else to straighten up,” Eddie admitted eventually, rubbing his teeth over his bottom lip as his gaze trailed around the service area.

“You know what that means. Break time!” Spinning on the heels of his worn-out Chuck Taylors, Richie yanked a plastic cup from the stand - indication enough that he was going for his usual frozen favorite. “I’m making myself a drink.”

Suddenly, spurred by his presumption, an absurd idea came over Eddie. Without really thinking, he came forward and snatched the cup out of Richie’s hand, with all the gusto of someone following through with a concise course of action. This, however, was anything but.

“I know how you take yours,” he finally said, his mouth working at the same speed as his brain. “Bet I can make it perfectly.”

Richie blinked for a way too long second, long enough that Eddie’s blood started rushing with the weight of how stupid he was being. But finally, the idiot’s face took on a look of mock judgement, and he crossed his arms with put-upon petulance.

“Alright, Edspresso, do your worst.”

Calm again, and set to task, Eddie set the cup down on the prep counter and got to work. “A large caramel mocha frappe, no espresso,” he explained, narrating his actions with a dramatic roll of his eyes as he shovelled ice, milk and syrup into the blender. For a few seconds the tiny coffee shop filled with the buzz of the spinning blades, and Eddie remained silent until the noise settled, along with the thick concoction.

“Caramel drizzle around the cup,” he continued, demonstrating just so (with expert drizzling skill, if he did say so himself). He poured the frappe mixture into the cup, and darted away to grab the whipped cream can out of the ice bin. “Extra extra extra whipped cream, and to top it all off, caramel and chocolate drizzle.”

When all was said and done, with the dome lid capped over a mountain of whipped cream shooting out the hole in the middle, Eddie presented drink and straw to Richie, smiling rather smugly.

“In short, a diabetic coma waiting to happen.”

That familiar, toothy grin split onto Richie’s face, and he slow clapped for Eddie (a ridiculous gesture that definitely didn’t have him several sorts of secretly flattered).

“Well how ‘bout that.” The frappe passed from Eddie’s hands into Richie’s and he took a sip off the straw, indulging a few lip-smacks, wafting the cup under his nose as if it were wine. “Not bad, Eds, not bad. Your top drizzle is a little sloppy but I know the nozzle on the chocolate is fucked. Solid nine and a half.”

“Oh buzz off, Richie.” Eddie made to jab the idiot in the ribs but Richie was too fast, side-stepping with all the grace of a gangly newborn horse. The idiot then set his frozen confection on the counter, and plucked out another plastic cup.

“Now for you.” Winking again, Richie bopped the cup against Eddie’s nose, but was gone before the shorter brunet could protest - and the potential of Richie knowing how he took his coffee was just too great to resist, and so he clammed up.

“Medium iced hazelnut,” Richie began easily, with the tone and air of a proper English butler whilst shovelling ice and squirting flavoring. “Little less ice. Two sugars, two skim, two shots of espresso - which is probably why you’re so wound up all the time, but that’s none of my business.”

A sprinkle of sugar here and a spot of milk there and he filled the rest of the cup with coffee, gave it a good mix, and snapped a lid on before finally offering the drink to Eddie. “Short and sweet, just like you.”

“Wow, thanks,” Eddie mentioned, almost tightly as he took the coffee out of Richie’s hands, lips twitching as he fought yet another smile. Judging by Richie, who couldn’t resist a smile, he probably thought he had done a fantastic job. And to some extent, he had.

“But this is my morning order,” Eddie declared, closing his lips over the straw for a sip anyway.

Richie’s face fell. “What?!”

“Two espresso shots in the afternoon? Are you fucking nuts? My heart’ll give out.” Eddie rolled his eyes and scoffed. “If I get iced coffee later in the day I ditch the espresso and go one skim. I might even get a small too.”

“Well that’s not my fault! Sorry I don’t know the inner workings of your complicated coffee regimen!”

“Shut up, you dumbass,” Eddie griped. Before his lips could stretch too much, he took another sip, effectively quelling any inclination to smile. No way he was going to let himself finish the entire caffeine-pumped drink, though. “Besides, you were technically right anyways.”

Richie seemed satisfied with that at least, taking a moment to lick off the whipped cream puffing out over his cup. Eddie watched him for a moment, out of the corner of his eye. Even if his coffee hadn’t been completely right, there was something sort of delightful, knowing Richie had noticed enough to get his usual order down like that. All those mornings on the way to class, when Richie was scheduled and Eddie wasn’t. Busy with the regulars, and still managing to remember all those details.

Eddie could only wonder if Richie remembered them for all the same reasons.

“Hey, can I try?” Richie asked all of a sudden. “I’ve never had hazelnut before.”

“I thought you didn’t like espres-” Without warning, Richie’s head loomed down and close, and just when Eddie thought he might steal a sip from the straw, he shifted forward instead, slotting their lips together.

Richie’s mouth was cold from his frappe, and his breath tasted like mocha more than it tasted like caramel. Eddie blinked for a few endless seconds, heat creeping up into his ears and cheeks, until his friend and coworker finally slipped away - still bent at eye-level.

“Well hey,” Richie murmured, voice low as his dark eyes glinted behind his thick glasses. “Hazelnut tastes pretty good.”

Eddie shoved his hand up into Richie’s face, heart pounding as the idiot yelped and stumbled back. They calmed down just in time for the bell to tinkle over the door, and work and routine resumed in the little coffee shop once again.

Tagging: @princesass-theresa @r-u-reddie @stellarbisexual 

[returnsandreturns]

This is for @electriceell ! It’s kinda dumb but I like it.

“I’m going to bed!” Foggy calls, the front door slamming behind him and making Matt wake up with a jolt. Shit. “I don’t care that it’s three o’clock! I’m an adult!”

Matt’s attempting to untangle himself from the sheets and manages to trip and fall on his ass at the exact same moment that Foggy opens the bedroom door and promptly makes a strangled noise.

“Uhm,” he says, after his heart slows back down. “Hey, Matt.”

“Hey,” Matt says, giving an awkward wave.

“You’re pretty naked there, buddy.”

“Underwear.” Matt pulls at the sheet a little to prove it.

“Well, that’s something,” Foggy says, levelly. “You gonna tell me what the hell you were doing in my bed? I just need to know if I should wash the sheets.”

Matt groans and covers his face with his hands, so his voice is muffled when he says, “If you weren’t a better lawyer than me, I’d try to blame this on you.”

“I’m definitely a better lawyer than you,” Foggy says, “so keep talking, counselor.”

Matt takes a deep breath and tries to figure out how to tell this story in a way that won’t somehow ruin their friendship more than he’s already managed. He sighs and stands up, so the sheets fall down to the floor, and Foggy’s heartbeat kicks up again.

“And put some pants on,” he says, turning to walk back into the living room. “This is a—Christian household.”

*

“I know we’re supposed to be bonding and rebuilding our friendship, Matty,” Foggy says, pausing the movie they were watching, “but I think you died five minutes ago.”

“I’m only mostly dead,” Matt says, sheepishly.

“When’s the last time you slept?” Foggy asks, sighing.

“Last night,” Matt says.

“For how long?”

“Long—enough.”

“Okay, you’re taking a nap,” Foggy says, standing up abruptly. “Get up.”

“Foggy, I’m fine,” he says, but he lets Foggy take him by his arm and drag him to his feet and pull him into his bedroom, which is something Matt has thought about before—being pulled into Foggy’s bedroom.

“I bought a fuck everything expensive mattress after I got my new job,” Foggy says, letting go of Matt to search through his drawers and pull out clothes that he thrusts into Matt’s arm. They’re soft. They smell like fabric softener but they mostly smell like Foggy. “You’re going to love it more than you love me.”

“I—I doubt it,” Matt says.

After he actually gets into bed, though, and finds out that Foggy has nicer silk sheets than he does and that his mattress feels like being full body cuddled by an angel, he can confidently say that he loves Foggy more than anyone.

But his bed comes in a close second.

*

“You’re saying I led you on,” Foggy says, laughing.

Matt’s wearing pants but couldn’t find his shirt, which made Foggy sigh outrageously and mutter, “Exhibitionist tendencies,” when he walked into the living room. He turns around on the couch so Foggy can see him frown from where he’s making coffee. He has an espresso maker now. It has to take up most of the counter space in his tiny kitchen.

“Why haven’t you moved?” Matt asks, instead of answering.

“Wow,” Foggy says. “Did you get Hell’s Kitchen in the divorce?”

“No, I just meant—you got the salary you always wanted at a successful firm,” Matt says. “You could get a nicer place.”

“So, you break into my apartment just to insult it?” Foggy asks, huffing out a laugh and interrupting Matt when he tries to talk again. “I know I could live somewhere shinier, but—this is my home. My shitty, occasionally rat-infested home. It’s close to everything I care about and all the delivery guys would miss me.”

Matt doesn’t want to ask if he’s part of that. The things Foggy cares about. They’re working on getting back to where they were but he knows all the pieces aren’t fitting quite right.

“Yeah, you’re part of the reason, asshole,” Foggy says, but it’s soft, fond, because he’s Matt’s best friend and he knows him better than anybody else and Matt doesn’t even have to talk.

“Good,” he says, turning around to hide his smile.

“. . .you know what, screw it,” Foggy says, loudly—putting his coffee mug in the fridge while his heart pounds. “Let’s go to sleep.”

“. . .what?” Matt asks, turning back around slowly.

“You, me, my mattress that’s worth more than both of us combined,” Foggy says. “Serious adult naptime. You up for it?”

Matt doesn’t have time to think about whether or not this is a terrible idea because he’s already leveraging himself up and saying, voice breaking a  little, “Yeah. I’m up for it.”

*

Foggy said, “You can lose the pants again but don’t get fresh,” when they got into the bedroom, and Matt had laughed somewhat soullessly, but they both got down to their underwear and crawled into bed together. They’re lying beside each other now, a couple of inches between them, perfectly still.

“Well,” Matt says. “This is nice.”

“So nice,” Foggy agrees.

An awkward silence stretches out between them.

“. . .you’re usually the little spoon, right?” Foggy asks, swallowing audibly.

“I feel like I should deny that,” Matt says, “. . .but yes.”

“. . .cool, good for you, own it.”

More silence and Matt takes a deep breath before he very deliberately turns over to lie on his side, facing away from Foggy, who outright gasps.

“Was that an invitation?” he asks.

“To do what?” Matt asks, laughing, turning his head toward him.

“To—not to—god, don’t make this weird, Murdock, it’s just a guy spooning another guy in the name of friendship.”

“Okay, yeah,” Matt says, feeling happier than he’s felt in—a long time. “It was an invitation.”

Foggy makes a soft determined noise and turns to press up against Matt, wrapping an arm around him to hold him close. For all that the pieces of their friendship are warped, they fit together perfectly like this.  

“There,” Foggy says, softly, warm breath on Matt’s neck. “Now go the fuck to sleep.”

*

By the time Matt wakes up, Foggy’s on his back and Matt’s basically on top of him, an arm and a leg slung over and his face buried in Foggy’s chest. Foggy wakes up when Matt shifts a little and says, “Oh, wow.”

“Hmm?” Matt asks.

“You’re like a baby koala,” Foggy says, reaching up to smooth his hand over Matt’s hair.

“‘m not,” Matt murmurs, yawning, but he tightens the arm he has around Foggy.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Foggy says, fingers sliding over Matt’s neck before he drops his arm again. “A big manly koala.”

Matt snorts out a laugh.

They stay like that for long enough that it’s got to be weird, until Foggy says, “You planning on getting off of me, buddy?”

If Matt was more awake and less of an idiot, he’d do that. He’s not, though.

“Do I have to?” he asks, lifting his head slowly.

“. . .no,” Foggy says, softly. “This isn’t threatening your heterosexuality?”

“. . .yeah, about that,” Matt says, because if he’s an idiot, he might as well go all the way.

Foggy starts to say something and Matt interrupts him by pushing up to press their lips together, kissing him softly. When Foggy doesn’t immediately push him away and kick him out of his life again, he cups one of his cheeks, slides fingers into soft hair.

“Liked it better long,” he murmurs, close to Foggy’s mouth.

“I’m a grownup lawyer now,” Foggy says, breathing heavily. “Keep kissing me.”

“Yes, sir.”

They make out slowly, hands moving tentatively over each other’s bodies, until Foggy eventually squeezes Matt’s side gently and says, “Okay, take a breath. My brain just caught up to what’s happening. You’re not straight?”

Matt sits up and wipes off his mouth.

“Only in practice,” he says.

“Are you trying to hook up with me because you like my mattress so much?”

“No,” Matt says, laughing. “No, Foggy, I’ve—I’ve always felt something for you. It was just never the right time.”

“Yeah,” Foggy says, sitting up to take Matt’s hand, lacing their fingers together. “School and girlfriends and starting the firm and—all your devil shit. I know what you mean. I’ve actually been thinking that maybe. . .”

“Maybe?” Matt prompts, when Foggy draws off.

“Maybe, if you felt the same, we could try this,” Foggy says. “I thought it might be a shot in the dark, but. . .you’re here.”

“I’m here,” Matt says, nodding, smiling hopefully. “I—I think it’s the right time. Don’t you?”

Foggy lets go of his hand and Matt’s worried for a few seconds before he’s being tackled to the bed, before Foggy’s climbing on top of him and pressing a soft, chaste kiss to his mouth.

“I do,” Foggy says. “I really do, Matt.”

“. . .does this mean I get to sleep over?” Matt asks, grinning.

“I knew you were just in it for the mattress,” Foggy says, sitting up and grabbing a pillow to hit him, yelping when Matt knocks it away and pins him down on the mattress instead.

“Just a bonus,” he promises, bending down to kiss his forehead. “I’d want you even if you still had your old mattress.”

“Really? It was terrible. I think it grew claws at some point.”

“Claws and all.” 

“Wow, you really like me,” Foggy says, quietly.

“I really like you,” Matt echoes, “and I would really like to take another nap with you right now.” 

“That’s the most romantic thing that anyone’s ever said to me.” 

[joonbird]

Just Sayin/I Tried

Sometimes love isn’t enough.

pairing: jimin x reader

wordcount: 6.2k

genre: fluff, smut, angst

inspiration

- Twenty-four months ago -

It was one of those mornings where nothing was going right.

You woke up frazzled, with an uncomfortable feeling under your skin. Your alarm hadn’t gone off properly, and you leaped out of bed, racing around your apartment in a bleary state of shock. You were pulling on your clothes, they were wrinkled and didn’t go together, you had pillow creases on your face, and you were still half asleep. But you had no time, and you were out of your front door and spilling onto the street within moments.

You calculated that you had just enough time to go to your usual coffee place and grab a coffee, only to see a huge queue inside. You hesitated at the door, knowing that the responsible thing to do would be going straight to work. But… coffee. Fuck it. You hurried inside the cafe, your mind was racing as you stood in the queue, your foot bouncing restlessly. You were going to be late to work, there was nothing you could do about it, and God be damned, you were getting your morning coffee.

“Next!” The bored looking man standing by the cash register yelled out, you raced forward, letting out a little sigh of relief.

“One double shot espresso please,” You ordered, reaching in your bag to grab your wallet.

Your wallet, which wasn’t there.

“Fuck,” You muttered under your breath. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” You rummaged through your bag desperately, feeling your face start to flush. “I left my wallet at home, but I come here every day, can I just bring it tomorrow, I-”

“I’m sorry ma’am, but if you don’t have the money on you to pay at the moment I’m going to have to ask you to leave. There’s a queue behind you.” He said politely and you felt your cheeks redden in embarrassment. 

“Here,” A man stood up beside you, passing over a crisp note. “And a cappuccino for me, please.”

His voice was like honey, soft and controlled, and your head snapped up to look at the stranger. You paused momentarily, feeling your breath catch in your throat. He was gorgeous, thick wavy hair, full lips and a little smile on his face as he caught your gaze. His dark eyes were staring right into yours and rendering you incapable of thought. 

“God, thank you… sorry, I’ve had the most fucked up morning. Shit, sorry, my language. I meant to say, it’s been a bad morning. It’s just been um, a nightmare. You know, once of those mornings…” Your words came out in a jumbled rush as you snapped back into reality. The man’s smile just grew wider at your incoherent, rushed words. You felt your face flush, but he just nodded sympathetically. 

“I get you. Mornings like that are the worst.” 

You felt your nerves settle a little when he spoke. It wasn’t necessarily what he was saying that calmed you down, it was his voice- so soft and reassured that it made you immediately relax. His voice was like silk.

“I even put on mismatching socks. I’m a mess,” You laughed ruefully, glancing down at your feet. You had one spotty sock and one plain sock on each foot. The man followed your gaze and tipped his head back, a loud laugh spilling out of him. His laugh had you smiling, it was infectious. You noticed the way his eyes creased and how he laughed with his entire body, and you suddenly wondered if it always felt this good to see him smile.

“A cute mess,” He smiled, and you felt your blush deepen.

“Sorry, I didn’t even introduce myself. I’m Jimin,” He added, holding out a hand. You shook it, feeling your heart flutter at the way he was smiling down at you. The way he was staring at you, so closely, it felt like he was memorizing every inch of your face. His stare had you feeling uncharacteristically giddy.

“Double shot and a cap?” The barista yelled out, and Jimin strode forward, grabbing the two coffees. You still felt a little delirious and slightly in shock. Of course life would throw this at you- a beautiful stranger buying you a coffee, on a morning when you had pillow creases on your cheeks.

Jimin turned, passing you the coffee cup. He gestured politely to you, letting you walk in front of him and out of the café’s entrance. You couldn’t help but feel charmed by him. 

“Is the coffee alright?” Jimin asked you, running a hand through his hair. You watched him, God he was gorgeous. He gave you an easy smile and you nodded, taking a sip of it gratefully. 

“It’s great. I come here every day, it’s always good here.”

“I’ve never been,” Jimin said conversationally. “I just decided to come here today. Try something new.” 

“I’m glad you did,” You replied. Jimin was just staring at you, a tiny smile tugging on his lips.

“Can I have your number?” He asked suddenly, ducking his head a little. “Sorry if I’m stepping out of line, I just…” his words trailed off a little and he just shrugged, smiling at you. 

You read in between the lines immediately, understanding him. You just nodded. “Of course.”

Jimin grinned, pulling out his phone. You recited your number to him and you glanced up at his face, stepping a little closer. You sucked in your breath, suddenly noticing how long his eyelashes were, how good he smelled.

“I’ll call you,” Jimin promised, tucking his phone back into his pocket. “I hope your day gets better, really.” 

“Thank you,” You replied, he gave you one final smile and nod before turning and walking down the street. 

You stood there for a moment, locked in place with a dumb smile on your face. You were replaying every interaction with him in your mind, his warm eyes, the way he had leaned in and asked for your phone number. 

You had completely forgotten about work, about your frantic morning, even about the coffee in your hand. 

All you could think about was him. Jimin.

- Twelve months ago -

It was one of those nights where everything was going perfectly.

Everything was slotting into place, maybe the stars were aligning, you didn’t know what it was but you weren’t questioning it. 

Jimin had surprised you, inviting you over for a casual night of pizza and movies. You should’ve known better of your boyfriend. The moment you had walked in and saw him standing at the kitchen, an apron tied around his waist, an of course floated up in your mind. 

Jimin had proudly announced to you that he had been teaching himself to cook your favourite meal, a stuffed spinach and ricotta ravioli. He also had gotten your favourite bottle of wine. It wasn’t over the top, Jimin didn’t do over the top. But, it was thoughtful, and your heart had swelled when you had seen him standing there, that easy smile on his face. You were sure then that your heart couldn’t feel any more full. You were wrong of course- when Jimin told you he had spent the better part of his afternoon making pasta dough you had felt your heart split in half, it was that overflowing with a glowing kind of happiness.

What was it about Jimin? You couldn’t put your finger on it, on him entirely, even now. It had been twelve months since that day at the coffee shop, and it was odd how time changed with him. It both felt like yesterday and forever ago that you had met Jimin. 

You knew him better than you had known anyone before, the product of many late night conversations and car rides where you were both in the most ridiculous, playful moods. You knew that he could sing like an angel, and that when he was pissed off he would go silent. You knew that he hated capsicum and cried watching sad fllms. You knew all the details.

Your relationship wasn’t without it’s difficulties but never had it been like this with another person before. You had met the person you were meant to be with. Your other half, a concept you had never believed in, until you met Jimin.

You were piling the dishes in the sink, feeling content, when Jimin walked up behind you, his arms wrapping around your waist. He nuzzled into the nape of your neck, murmuring nothings into your skin.

“Jimin…” You giggled, your breath quickening as he began slowly pressing kisses like stamps down your neck and into your hairline. 

“Y/N…” Jimin replied softly, you craned your neck back into his touch as he slowly began massaging rhythmic circles into your hips. His fingers were strong, his touch firm, and your mind was racing, unsure of whether it wanted to focus on his fingers kneading patterns into the flesh of your hip or his lips against the sensitive skin on your neck.

“Did you like dinner?” Jimin murmured, reaching up and freeing your hair from where it was tied up in a bun. Your hair cascaded down your back, he reached up and ran his fingers through your hair. Shivers were running up and down your spine, he slowly pressed his hips into you, you could feel the erection stirring in his pants and you felt your thighs tense.

“It was great,” You mumbled. “You’re great.” Jimin just chuckled, brushing your hair away from your neck to one side so he could continue pressing long kisses against the slope of your skin.

“Yep, I am,” He said in a pleased voice, and you just laughed. He hummed, arching his hips up into your ass. You could feel it, his hard cock straining against his jeans, against you. He gripped your hips, nuzzling into your neck confidently.

“Jimin, God…” You groaned out, your voice coming out in a soft whine.

“What, do you want me to stop?” Jimin froze, his voice coming out innocently against your ear. You were suddenly all to aware of how your pussy was starting to throb for him, you felt shivers dancing up your spine as you swallowed heavily.

“No, don’t, please…” Your voice came out a little strained and you could sense Jimin’s smirk as he 

“So you want me to continue?” He asked you lightly, and he ran his hands up your top, his fingertips skimming over your stomach. His touch was so feather light you could’ve ben convinced you were imagining it if it wasn’t for the way your back arched at his touch desperately, pressing your ass firmer against his hard cock. He knew exactly how to touch you, how to tease you, how to get your pussy so soaking wet you could hardly contain it.

“Yes Jimin,” You breathed out his name and you couldn’t hide the urgency from creeping into your tone. You knew he loved it when you were like this, weak for him, desperate for him, and he responded by pressing his cock harder against you. He reached up and gripped your chin, tilting your head to the side so he could plant hard kisses down your jaw. You let out a soft moan, tilting your head back even more so he could kiss the corner of your mouth hungrily.

“Y/N,” He said your name like a command, turning you around roughly so you were facing him. You were still backed up against the sink, and he immediately kissed you. He, as always, kissed you passionately, his tongue exploring your mouth hungrily as his hands squeezed the small of your waist. You gasped into his kiss as he tugged on the hem of your shirt, you broke your kisses only to allow him to pull the shirt off of you, and then his shirt, they both fell unnoticed to the floor.

“No bra,” Jimin murmured, reaching up to cup your breasts. “My favourite.” He afforded you a soft smile, it was almost angelic, but you weren’t fooled, picking up on the devilish glint in his eyes as he ran his fingertips over your hard nipples.

“Ooh,” You panted out as he stroked your nipples, his eyes locked on you. He licked his lips, rubbing your nipple firmly between his fingers, pinching gently and causing a low, ecstatic moan to echo out of you. He leaned down and still staring at you, licked one nipple slowly, making you clench your jaw. You were all too aware of the dampness between your legs, the way you were starting to ache for him. 

It was like sensory overload, looking at him. His strong shoulders were tensed as he bent down to latch his lips around your nipple, his full lips and darkened eyes were only heightening to your arousal. He had a great body, taut muscles and strong arms, but it was in his eyes. They almost burned with a desire for you, and that turned you on more than anything else. He drank you in with that stare, his gaze was always hungry for you, searching for you, and it was that, those eyes, that drove you crazy. 

“Jimin, please,” You whimpered out and he straightened up, kissing up your neck and against your collarbones, you were breathless, reaching down to grip his cock through his jeans. His thick length felt so good in your hands, you palmed his erection through his jeans and pulled back to look at his face. He was still staring at you, his eyes fluttering upwards a little at the feeling of you rubbing his hard cock through his jeans.

“Y/N, don’t tease, you know I hate that.” He grunted, and then yanked down your skirt and underwear roughly.

“No you don’t,” You responded back teasingly, slowing the pace of your hand against his cock. A tiny smile flitted across his lips, he knew that you were right, he loved the teasing, the anticipation.

“But you’ve been so nice to me today, I won’t tease you for long.” You added silkily, unzipping his jeans and slowly tugging them down. You stepped out of your underwear in the process, the exposure of your bare pussy had you even wetter, because you knew it wasn’t long now until his cock would be inside of you.

His hard cock stood up straight and you hissed a little as you ran your fingers lightly against his length. His dick, so thick and smooth, had your mouth watering and your legs trembling slightly as you gripped his shaft firmly, slowly pumping you hand up and down his length.

He let out a long moan, his tongue darting out to lick his bottom lip as he reached between your legs, slipping one finger into your wetness.

“God, your pretty little pussy is so wet for me,” He muttered out, his eyes were dilated and you could tell by his husky voice and his slightly widened eyes that he was at peak arousal. So were you, feeling his fingers work in your pussy, he played with your clit and then slid one finger deep into you, centimeter by centimeter, so painfully slowly that it had you gasping out, you could barely focus on playing with Jimin’s cock when he was teasing your pussy with his fingers like that.

“Jimin,” You moaned. “Please, please fuck me already.” He responded by picking you up and propping you on the kitchen counter, spreading your legs with his palms.

He gazed up at you and you moaned when you saw the look on his face, so full of desire and intensity, positioning his cock at your slit. You took it all in, the muscles in his shoulders rippling as he gripped your thighs, your legs spread wide for him, the cool kitchen counter underneath your ass as anticipation pounded through you.

And then he pushed his cock into you.

You let out a sharp gasp at the feeling, as always, he stretched you out almost painfully at first, he didn’t give you long to adjust to him, instead, he immediately started rocking his cock into you. 

“Jimin, you feel so good,” Your voice came out in a desperate hiss as he began to fuck you harder. He gripped your thighs, his fingers digging into your soft skin, and you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, raking his hair with your fingers and tugging on his hair. 

“Jimin…” You mewled out his name as he reached up and tugged one calf so it was resting against his shoulder, the position had your pussy spread even more for him, allowing him to fuck into you deeper.

The change in angle had you feeling all of him, and the feeling was immense and incredible. Your skin was tingling and your core was beginning to tighten, at the slap of your bodies as he fucked into you,  your palms against the cool kitchen counter. You glanced down dazedly to see his entire cock sliding in and out of you, he was slick from your wetness. 

“Look at me,” Jimin grunted, and you immediately did what you were told. He looked so good when he was pumping in and out of you, clenching his jaw, his eyes darkened in lust.

“You look so hot spread out on the table like that for me,” He grunted, tilting his head to kiss your calf hungrily. Your thighs were starting to ache, both from the position and from your approaching orgasm.

“Harder Jimin, please,” You begged, and he let out a little groan and reached behind you, tugging against your waist so you were half off of the counter, his arms gripping you as he fucked into you deeper. He held your body so you were slightly tilted, at this angle, he was inside of you at an angle that had you feeling all of him. You could feel it, his cock inside of you, and it sent waves of intensity through your body, shooting down to your fingertips.

“Jimin, I’m going to…” Your words came out in a desperate rush and your voice cut off, you bit your lip, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck, fuck, fuck me, Jimin, oh my God,” you chanted out.

“Good, cum for me baby, that’s right, cum around my cock like a good girl.” He moaned into your ear and his honey voice had you crying out. Your core tightened and you felt your vision spin as you let out a loud, desperate cry, your head flung forward as you buried your face into his neck, biting down on his shoulder. Your orgasm was riding through you and you could feel it everywhere, the satisfaction, the release, finally. Jimin stayed fairly still, moving only to place your leg back down around his waist as he began rocking in and out of you slowly, carefully, as your cries faded out into soft, faint whispers.

As it slowly ebbed out of you, replaced by a familiar content glow, Jimin picked up the pace, fucking back into you He grinded his cock inside of you intently, getting himself off with you, and you placed hungry kisses and bites against his neck. You sucked down on a sensitive spot on his neck, nibbling against his skin and he moaned loudly. You knew you were going to leave a mark there, as you reached up and tugged his hair, he let out a loud and desperate moan as he fucked into you harder, slamming into you until he suddenly grunted. 

He groaned, his body tensing and twitching slightly as he came inside of you, his moans incomprehensible.

You slumped against him, your fingers still caught in his hair as he relaxed slightly. The only sound was your heavy breathing against his, he let out a soft groan as he tipped his head back, a blissful smile on his face.

“Mm,” he mumbled, slowly sliding his cock out of you. You gazed down at his cock, still covered in your wetness, as you felt Jimin’s cum inside of you.

“You’re going to drip out of me soon,” You breathed out, Jimin just grinned at you, his entire face relaxed as he leaned forward, kissing the tip of your nose.

“Good.” He murmured. “God that’s hot.” 

You laughed, shaking your head at him as you reached up with your fingertips, brushing the purple mark on the slope of his skin, where his neck met his shoulder.

“Sorry baby,” You murmured. 

“For what?” Jimin asked, still breathing heavily.

“Another lovebite.” 

He just grinned at you, his hair falling into his eyes. He shook it out of his face. “You know I love it.” He murmured, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss. He kissed you tenderly, his tongue delicately exploring your mouth, his hand fluttering up to cup your face. You keened into him, into his kiss, feeling your heart swell and your thoughts go quiet, everything inside of you just focusing on him.

He pulled away from your kiss to smile at you, his eyes creasing. You stared at him, a tiny sigh escaping your lips. You had fallen for so many details about him, intricacies that you measured and adored. You loved the freckles on his bare stomach, the way his shoulders vibrated when he laughed, the way his voice was raspy in the morning. 

You glanced behind Jimin, your face splitting into a smile.

“Look,” You whispered. “It’s snowing. It’s so pretty.”

Jimin glanced behind him at the window, where tiny snowflakes were starting to fall. He turned back to grin at you.

“You’re pretty.”

You rolled your eyes at him, shoving his chest playfully. “You’re so full of it,” You groaned, and Jimin just grinned, shrugging. “You are.”

You just shook your head at him, at his words. It felt so good, this moment, his cum inside of you, your legs still wrapped loosely around his waist, him with his head cocked to one side as he smiled at you, his eyes dancing. Behind him, tiny white snowflakes were falling, it was winter outside, cold and bleak, but it was safe inside here with him. It was perfect.

You opened your mouth to tell him that, to tell him how pretty the snow was, but you closed your mouth when you saw the look on his eyes. He leaned back, staring at you, a serious expression on his face.

“I love you, Y/N” 

This wasn’t the first time he had said those words but still, you felt your heart squeeze. You breathed out a little at his words, a full body glow spreading over you. 

“Jimin,” You murmured back. “I love you too.”

- Six months ago -

It was one of those afternoons where no matter what, you couldn’t get rid of that feeling.

It was a heavy, cloying irritation that had settled into your bones. Everywhere you looked, everything you heard, had you feeling more and more annoyed.

And Jimin was the main cause of that.

Things you once loved about Jimin, were irritating you. You hated it, that the way he raised his eyebrows at you when you knew you were being bitchy annoyed you now when it once calmed you down. You hated how you pushed at him, prodding him to get a reaction out of him. 

Logically, you knew it was because things were getting harder with Jimin. He was busy, he had work, and you had work, and your relationship and separate lives, once so neatly knotted together, was slowly starting to fray at the edges.

You still had your good days but more than often lately you shared average days with Jimin. You had to work now for this relationship, and you were second guessing everything. All the arguments had you feeling insecure, and all the time apart was making you ache for him and resent him at the same time. 

You stood in front of him now, your eyes narrowed. You could feel it bubbling up inside of you, it was uncontrollable, the bitterness, the anger.

“I hope you feel happy that I feel like shit,” You snapped out. Your words were like venom and you wanted to hurt him with them. Jimin just reeled back, shock on his face before it settled into an impassive expression. He was always so calm when you argued, so untouchable, it just made you fierier, angrier.

“I don’t. Don’t be so passive aggressive. We’re just friends.” Jimin said icily. 

“Right, so what, she’s just one of the guys? Because that’s what you told me this morning. Funny, she doesn’t sound like a guy to me.” Your words were like bullets, they kept tumbling out of your mouth, searching for maximum impact, maximum damage. You couldn’t stop yourself.

Jimin just frowned, his eyes darkening. “I told you already. She’s a work friend. I was supposed to meet Seokjin and Hoseok, but they bailed, so we decided to get a drink-”

“Just a drink?” Bullshit,” You gritted out. You knew you were being irrational, but the memory was still seared into your mind, calling Hoseok to see if Jimin wanted to grab dinner after their drinks, only to find out Jimin wasn’t with them after all. You knew nothing had happened with this girl, nothing would happen, but the entire encounter had terrified you. You were using it now as a vessel to lash out at him. YOu didn’t know why but you wanted to fight with Jimin. You were angry at him, upset with him, and you didn’t even know why anymore.

“Don’t you trust me?” Jimin asked you flatly. “I’m not interested in anyone else.”

“You’re just interested in getting drinks with other women and then lying to me about it, I see,” You retorted sarcastically.

His jaw was clenched and you could tell he was angry, but yet you kept pushing, kept prodding.

“Jesus, Y/N. What’s your fucking problem?”

You hated it, being jealous, being a bitch, being someone you knew you weren’t. But it was like you couldn’t stop yourself, the words were coming out of your mouth and you had too much pride to take them back. You didn’t know how to articulate this feeling. You were afraid you were losing him, but instead of communicating that with him, you were lashing out.

“I don’t know, this, I, this isn’t working.” You said the words, staring at him evenly. 

“What are you saying?” Jimin asked in a low voice.

“Maybe… we should take a break.”

Your words hung in the air and you stared at each other. You couldn’t read Jimin’s eyes, they were just staring into yours, a million different fragmented emotions flickering through them.

He opened and closed his mouth before his gaze steeled.

“Fine.”

He bit out his response, staring at you. You didn’t know what you had expected, you had stupidly wanted him to fight for you, say something, assure you. You suddenly were overwhelmed by it all, you wanted to step forward and tell him you were sorry, you were acting crazy, you loved him. You wanted to go back in time and never have this ridiculous argument. You had so few nights with Jimin these days, and you suddenly saw the other way this evening could’ve gone, the two of you curled on the couch and talking. Instead, you were here, standing opposite each other, trembling, so filled with anger that you could suddenly taste it everywhere around you.

“Jimin,” You said out his name shakily and Jimin just stared at you. He shook his head, and turned, leaving your apartment and slamming the door behind you.

Jimin came home a few hours later. You heard it, him closing your bedroom door behind you, standing there for a moment. He sighed, a long, deep, weary sigh. You felt guilty, hearing the strain behind his voice. The bedsprings creaked as he settled beside you, you kept your back turned to him.

His palm reached out, drawing you against, curling againsty our waist. You let out a small sigh, burrowing against him. He wrapped his arm around you, neatly tucking his body behind yours, holding you close.

“I’m sorry,” You whispered out into the air. All the anger had dissipated from your body. “I don’t know why I keep picking fights with you.”

“I’m sorry too.” Jimin replied quietly.

You hesitated, not knowing whether you should turn around and face him. You knew that you could make this better, you could kiss him, make love, start afresh. But doubt crept in, the damage had been done, you and Jimin had been fighting so much lately that the leftover fractures from your fights and careless words had slowly started to sink into your mind. So you stayed where you were, Jimin curled into your back, his words soft against your neck.

“You said you wanted to take a break,” Jimin whispered back. “Did you mean it?”

You stayed silent, wishing you had something to take you back in time. You had said the words, and even though you hadn’t meant them, they had been said. You could feel it, in the way that Jimin’s palm cupped your waist and in the hesitation in his words that Jimin remembered your words. You had an awful sinking feeling, like maybe you had made a huge, irreversible mistake.

“No,” You whispered out. “I didn’t.”

Jimin was silent, you could almost hear the thoughts in his mind but you didn’t know what those thoughts were. It killed you, when once you could’ve plucked any thought out of JImin’s mind and known it with certainty, now, you had no idea what he was thinking.

“Okay,” Jimin finally said back.

You were quiet, feeling your chest tighten and tears suddenly hot in your eyes. Words were on the tip of your tongue, there was so much you wanted to say, so many apologies, explanations, thoughts. But you froze. You couldn’t say any of it, you didn’t know how to say any of it. It was too late. So you just let a tear fall down your face.

“Okay,” You whispered back.

- Today -

It was one of those days, you knew with a sickening certainty, that this was going to be an important day. This was the day that you had been leading up to for months. Your breaking point had finally been reached.

Things with Jimin had been falling apart for months. You didn’t know how it could happen, how it did happen, how someone you once loved so much could become a stranger. While you once felt like you were a part of Jimin, like you could reach out and touch his mind, touch his heart, it now felt like you were separate souls, separate entities. He was running on one heartline, and you on the other. You were speaking different languages and the easiness that you once shared with him, was shattered.

Some days were good, they reminded you vaguely of the old times with Jimin, when you would laugh with him all day until your stomach ached and you were left with an all consuming glow. Those days had been enough to keep you hanging on, tethered to the barest threads of hope. But truth be told, most days with Jimin were empty, sparse, deprived of any real interaction.

You weren’t even sad about it anymore, you went through the paces with Jimin, going through the motions of a normal relationship. You saw him a few times a week, you messaged him when you went to sleep and you caught up with mutual friends over the weekend. Everybody knew you as Y/N and Jimin, and you were caught up in it too. You didn’t even know how to end things with him, how to be without him. 

Even now, when things were so hard, you were sure it had to be easier than being without him. Yes, you were lonely, but the thought of being truly alone was terrifying. So terrifying, that you had avoided thoughts of ending things with Jimin for months. You had been too afraid to face up to the reality that maybe you and Jimin just weren’t working anymore.

But not this day. You woke up and knew. You couldn’t explain it, but you knew. Today was the day, it had all culminated to this point. Today was the end of your time with Jimin. You just knew.

You woke up alone, for one. Jimin had stopped sleeping over every night, When someone had the choice of sleeping by someone’s side and they chose not to, it was a sign something was wrong.

When someone had the choice of sex, of intimacy, of making love, and they chose not to, it was a sign something was wrong.

You mulled over it all day until the evening, thinking back on your relationship with Jimin, agonizing silently. You were trying to locate it, to pinpoint the exact moment when things had changed. You couldn’t find it, when it hit you with a crunch, maybe you had changed.

You didn’t look up when Jimin let himself into your apartment, setting his bag down quietly. 

“Hey,” Jimin called out.

You just stared up at him, feeling your mouth go dry. Could you really do this? A voice in your mind tempted you, telling you that maybe things would get better, to hang in there. But you knew, that voice had been saying that for months now. Things hadn’t gotten better. Things wouldn’t be getting better.

“Hey,” Jimin said softly, noticing the look on your face. He walked over to where you were sitting on your couch, sitting opposite you. “Are you okay?”

He reached out, lacing his fingers into yours. You stared down at his hands, hands that you had loved, hands that you had memorized every detail of, and felt your heart contract.

“I…” You couldn’t get the words out, feeling the heaviness of them in your throat.

“Did something happen?” Jimin’s voice was laced in concern as he sat closer to you on the couch. 

“It’s us.” You said finally. You dragged your eyes up to meet his. Realization poured over his face. “I…” Your voice trailed off and you felt that hot, awful feeling in your throat when you were about to cry.

“Oh,” Jimin said finally. “Oh.”

His hands dropped, and you saw his entire face fall. You felt your heart fall with it.

“It’s not working.” You said finally, your voice was so soft that you could barely hear it but you could tell Jimin heard your words. His shoulders slumped and he was still for a moment.

“I don’t know why,” He said finally. “I don’t get it.” He glanced up and you saw his eyes were glinting with tears, his mouth twisted in pain. “I love you, Y/N. It’s just…”

You felt like you were free falling, your stomach plummeting into the earth. It was strange to hear him say that he loved you, it had felt like so long since you had heard those words from him, believed in those words from him.

“It’s just too hard.” You finished his sentence, for the first time in months, you were finally on his wavelength. 

“I think I’ve known for a while,” Jimin sighed, his voice husky with emotion, as he ran a hand through his hair. “Fuck.”

“Me too.” You admitted softly. Your heart was starting to pound at the reality of the situation, of him, sitting opposite you, staring at the ground.

“Do you still love me?” Jimin asked, his voice low.

You hesitated.

“Yes,” You whispered out. “But… love isn’t enough.”

You met his gaze and you stared at one another for a long moment. 

“You’re right.” Jimin said, he blinked, tears trickling down his face. “Sorry,” He muttered. “I’m just… it’s a lot.”

You stared at him for a long moment, hesitation on your tongue. Had it really come to this? It was Jimin, your Jimin. 

But you gazed at him and you could feel it. The distance between you, it had stretched out so far now that you didn’t even know where it began. 

“I know.” You just whispered, your voice came out choked and Jimin stared at you, a tortured look on his face. He hesitated, before he stood up suddenly, wiping his eyes roughly.

“I…” He said. “I should go.” He stared up at you and you saw your pain reflected in his eyes. “I think it’s best that we don’t talk for a while.”

You just nodded, suddenly too afraid to talk.

“Take care of yourself Y/N. Please.”

“You too,” You whispered back, meaning every word. You wanted Jimin to be happy, you wanted him to feel fulfilled, content, appreciated. Even if it couldn’t be you providing that for him, you wanted those things for him.

“Maybe one day we can be friends?” He stared at you and his eyes were swollen, tear tracks still on his cheeks as he gave you a small smile.

You just nodded back, knowing you were lying. You could never be friends with JImin. You never were friends with Jimin, you had loved him from the moment you heard his voice, from the moment he came into your life. 

Jimin stared at you and then he nodded, staring at the ground before he swallowed, opening the front door and leaving.

You could still hear the click of the front door long after he left, staring at the door mindlessly. You were faintly aware that you were crying but you didn’t feel sad per se, just hollow. You had made the right decision, you knew that you had, but you couldn’t help but feel the loss. 

You turned your head, forcing your eyes away from your front door. Jimin wasn’t coming back, Jimin wasn’t in your life anymore. The realization was hard to swallow and you could feel it, raw in your throat as you stared out of your living room window. 

It was pitch black outside, the middle of winter, and snowflakes were falling.

Maybe this was all you were destined to be. A brief, short chapter in each other’s lives. You stared, feeling your heart in your throat and the heaviness in the pit of your stomach, as you watched the snowflakes fall, alone.

The greatest love you had ever felt… for a man that was no longer yours.

[forkanna]

[AO3 LINK] [EF LINK]

NOTES: Literally sitting in what used to be the Second Cup location from the movie right now! It's since become an espresso bar, so at least I could get some kind of coffee-related drink (really wanted to tell them my name was "Fucking Pilgrim" when they asked). I've been enjoying this trip, and all the fun stuff I got to see; drove past the Pizza Pizza where they got a slice after Scott beat up Todd, and Sneaky Dee's (comic-only reference). I'm really hoping I can see Casa Loma and a few other Pilgrim-landmarks before I head home.

This chapter has another cliffhanger, but we're getting into the meat of the story now. Plus, there's a little extra something for Flyafar in here somewhere, hehehehe.

"...So then I said, 'that's the only kind of cheese you know, isn't it?'" Knives giggled as she finished putting the clear coat on top of my fingernails. The whole time, I looked very distinctly disgruntled at the whole situation, though I couldn't scowl nearly as much as usual with the face mask on. "But the guy had no idea what I was talking about. Some people are just really super dumb, huh?"

"Some people, present company included." She stuck out her tongue, showing just how well she was adapting to my general demeanor. "Can we take these off yet?"

"Almost. And I'll get yours so your nails can dry."

"Thanks." She leaned in to peck my lips, and I just barely managed to suppress the instinct to flinch. "U-uh…"

Her little sigh of contentment was so cute. Which made it even funnier that what she said next was, "So cute." Then she blew on my nails for a second before reaching up to her own face, and slowly peeling the mask down and off. "Eeewww… okay, ready?"

"As I'll ever be." She grabbed a corner and began to peel it off, and I shivered; it was so cold and gross-feeling! Why did people do this to themselves?

Once she jumped up and threw both of ours away, little aluminum foil pieces bobbing in front of her forehead, I tried not to watch her ass as she went. Why did I care about that all of a sudden? Never once could I remember looking at a girl's ass and thinking "Oh yeah, I'd do something to that." Especially since I had no idea what the "something" was! Spank it? Bite it? Use it as a coffee table? No idea. I never checked out guys' butts, either. Maybe I was seriously repressed and Knives was uncorking a whole bottle of desire I didn't even know I owned. And when I say "maybe", I mean "probably".

When Knives got back into my living room, she came to a stop and towered above me as she asked, "So, I do have to shower soon and get this dye out of my hair. But I can keep you company while your nails dry."

"They're almost done," I told her dismissively, determined not to think too hard about Knives being naked in my apartment. No, to not think about it. NOT to THINK ABOUT IT, stupid pervy brain! "You can go on if you want; nobody likes an itchy, burning scalp."

"Cool. And then we can finish everything up! I want to do your toes before we go to bed, at least, and put on that movie you brought."

"I bet you want to do my toes," I tried to tease her. "Already said you think they're cute."

Her grin was very playful. Sometimes she was super easy to tease, and sometimes she just danced right past my traps. How annoying. "The freckled one is. And I guess her little friends are, too." Her foot nudged mine, and I shivered, not even sure why I was shivering. "But I think all of you is cute, so…"

"Well, I think none of you is cute. All of you is dumb. Dumb face, dumb head…" This time, she was the one to roll her eyes and walk away, though she was giggling as she went.

While my new girlfriend showered, I mostly just tried not to ruin my fresh coat of paint and sat there, listening to the music still playing from her iPod. This was nice. Goddamn everything, I wanted to hate getting all girly with her, but she was making it fun. And to be honest, even though she was way girlier than me, it wasn't to the disgusting heights of a typical "sorority bimbo". This was about the maximum level of femininity I could handle invading my androgynous zone.

Get it? Androgynous zone. That's a pun.

When she came out of the bathroom roughly an hour after going in, freshly showered and in fuzzy PJs with cartoony cats patterned all over them, she caught me trying to eat the last slice of Pizza Pizza without touching anything with my fingernails. Her laugh was beautiful and earnest, and it kept me from snapping at her as harshly as I wanted to.

"Shut up, I got hungry!" More giggles. "Okay, okay, how was your shower? The hair looks pretty good."

Her fingers traced through the damp red forelock. "Thanks! I dunno, I tried going back to being totally natural but I missed the dyed part. And I guess I got over the whole thing about resenting Ramona, since… I got somebody better than Scott in the end."

"Y- I…" My words crashed into each other and wound up a tangled mess, and my freckles turned darker as she leaned in to kiss my blushing cheek. Then she licked it. "WHAT?! Why would you do that?!"

"Pizza sauce."

"O-oh… thanks, I think." Another giggle, and this time I laughed, as well. "Guess I made a mess trying not to make a mess of my nails."

"They look great! Just have to finish the rest."

"Yeah, okay, as long as we can put on some bad TV in the background."

So that's exactly what we did next. I rested my feet in her cross-legged lap, and she painted while Friends blared in the background. God, I hate that show, but she loves it. At least it was something for her to be entertained by, and I could entertain myself by ripping it to shreds whenever possible.

Especially Ross. Fucking Ross, man…

Around the time she was finishing up mine and we were getting ready to switch, she asked, "What would it have been like if we met in school?"

"You mean, like, if I was nineteen, or you were twenty-four? We did both go to a Catholic school…"

"We DID?!" she piped up, flicking a tiny drip of the dark green paint onto my ankle. But my glare was unnecessary, because she wiped it up with a facial tissue right away. "Oh yeah, I think you mentioned it… I just wasn't thinking about it that way. Wow, so cool!"

"Yeah, it's fabulous," I sighed in a deadpan.

"But sure, that." She blew on the nails for a second, then kissed my toe-freckle. I don't know why, but even though I really wanted to kick at her and tell her to cut that out, instead I just felt faintly embarrassed and kept my mouth shut. "What if you were a girl in my class? Then like, we could have hung out all the time, and talked about boys…"

My smirk was quite dark as I let my legs down over the side, and she offered me the jars of the polish we had used on her fingernails earlier in the evening. Bright red, to match her hair. "We don't seem to care much about boys, dude."

"Not now," she clarified with a huge grin as her feet landed in my lap. "But both of us were extra straight then. Or like, I was, and you probably were, too. Since I'm the first girl for you."

"Who says? Maybe I really did have a threesome with Scott and Ramona." But her stunned look didn't last long, because I set to painting as I grumbled, "Fine, fine. I didn't. But yeah… I dunno. Probably wouldn't have hung out with you back then since you weren't very 'cool'. And I was still angsty, and just wanted to play the drums. Funny how you can think you're so awesome and when you look back a few years later, realise you were just a whiny little bitch."

Frowning, she told me, "Don't say that. You were a kid. So was I in high school, doing theater and band and stuff. Before you guys helped me grow up some. I mean, my school days were more recent for me but I think it's pretty much the same thing."

"It is," I admitted, even though the High School Kim part of my brain was screaming that it was totally different and that I was a sellout and all this other crap. She needed to chill. "But for what it's worth… you weren't that bad. I just didn't want a groupie hanging around while we practiced."

"You mean that?"

"Yeah. Nothing personal. I didn't like Ramona much at first, either."

"Well… we were dating Scott. I mean, I've been dumped by him, I get it."

"No, you don't. He wasn't the first one you ever…" I bit my lip. "Look. It is the same, and it's not. Sorry if I act kind of salty about this sometimes."

The foot that hadn't been painted yet nudged my tummy to get my attention, and I looked up to see real sympathy in her eyes. Even though I was kind of being a dick. "It's okay."

"Sorry… I'm really sorry, Knives." Clearing my throat, I redipped the brush and went back to work. "You're right, we're both members of the Scott Pilgrim Lonely Hearts Club. I shouldn't split hairs."

"What was it like? Being with a guy. I mean, I never got that far."

"Like being fucked," I said bluntly, and she snorted. My serious expression finally softened as I spared her a glance. "I mean, you've gone a solo round before, right? Not that different from fingering yourself."

"Well… not really." She seemed extra awkward about this question. Not that I got why; maybe she was just shy about admitting this. But it's no big deal, only masturbation talk. Whole world does it, right? 'She bop, he bop, and we bop', to quote Lauper. "Tried some stuff. And it wouldn't be the same thing you experienced, that's for sure."

Nodding, I finished the first set of five toes off and moved to the second. "Guess everybody's different."

"And now, I might never know, since I kinda hope…"

I waited for a few seconds. When she didn't finish, I froze for a second as what she had been leading to caught up to me, and I sat up straighter, looking her in the eyes. Yeah, that was definitely what I thought it was, because she looked a little mortified, and highly self-conscious.

"You were gonna say something sappy about me, weren't you?"

"Noooo…"

"Are you lying?"

"Maaaaaybe," she admitted, wilting. "Sorry, Kim. I know, I know! It's new, and we're just, like, giving it a trial run or whatever, but I can't help it."

Swallowing down the weird, giddy noise that tried to erupt from my throat, I coughed, then said, "W-well… I guess it feels pretty good when you say stuff like that. Just a little frightening, too. And nauseating. It's a lot to process."

"What's to process? I like you."

"That! THAT is a lot to process for me! Why? And how can you when I'm not gay?"

"Okay, pretty sure you're a little gay," she giggled, and I sighed in defeat as I facepalmed yet again. "Sorry to break it to you, friend."

A little disgruntled at how she kept laughing at me, I went back to finishing the paint job. "Very little. Like, point-one per cent. And you're a little bit of a cunt for rubbing it in."

"What's to rub in? Being gay isn't an insult."

"Yeah, but it still feels like one since until you started trying to make out with me all the time, I figured I was straight. And I'm used to fucktards calling me 'dyke' just because I don't giggle and flirt back when guys tell me 'duuude, redheads are hoooot, broooo'. So yeah, for me, being called a lesbian mostly used to be a way for them to insult me and make themselves feel better that I shot them the fuck down."

"Redheads are pretty hot, though," she said with a nod, completely serious. I nearly messed up her pinky toe because of that, but I kept my cool and finished it, then began blowing on them to get them to dry as fast as possible so I could be done.

"We burn in the sun, and we have no souls. Plus some people call freckles 'cute' but they don't really get how annoying they are. And then there's the part where bleaching my hair to turn it any colour other than red just looks horrible, so I'm kinda stuck with it."

Frowning very slightly, she said, "Aww, but I like your freckles. You might not but I really do think they're cute."

"You think one freckle is cute, and it's a weird one. Feet aren't cute, end of story." I was still trying to blow on them again when Knives pushed her big toe into my lips, cutting off the airflow.

"Don't you think mine are cute?" I pulled away, sputtering and spitting. "Guess not."

"UGH! Why would you do that?! They're dirty!"

"I just had a shower! Literally just now!" she protested as I wiped my arm across my lips. "Careful, your fingernails-!"

"God, sometimes I really don't know what you're thinking…" But it really hadn't been that big of a deal, so I went back to checking her nails again. "And you're dry. I'm ready for my clear coat."

Again, we switched laps, and she started in with my top coat. After she got the first few done, she said in a quiet voice, "Sorry, I guess that was dumb."

"It was dumb. But yeah, I didn't mean to flip out that much." We were both quiet for a moment. Maybe I really had hurt her by overreacting. "Okay, so your feet are cute, as far as any feet can be in the first place. Happy?"

"Mmmm…" Now she was thinking it over, and I had a feeling I wasn't going to get off that light. "Tell me something else about me that's cute."

"Your ass. There."

"Kiiiiiiim," she whined.

"Your face! That little button nose, your soft, dark eyes, your giant smile that belongs on a much bigger face than yours! Jesus H. Benjamin Christ!"

That got her smiling again, and I rolled my eyes. But I wasn't lying. For a second, I thought she was going to gloat, but instead she simply raised my foot and pressed her lips into my big toe, kissing it for a lot longer than I had accidentally kissed hers. She even closed her eyes while doing it, as if she were enjoying herself. Crazy, right?

"Same. Like, you're the hottest girl I know! I thought you were way out of my league. And I mean like, after we made out; before that, I just kinda looked up to you in a weird, awkward way. But after…"

Just barely starting to get over her kissing me there of all places, I stammered, "Wait… h-have you had a crush on me since that night? Seriously?"

"No! I mean, a little? But not like, in the way that I was hanging around you and hoping this would happen. Because I never believed it could. But yeah, I, um… you were so sweet and understanding, it was a whole other side of you. Always kinda hoped I'd get to know you better, just as a friend. Ever since that night."

'Yeah, one I can't remember,' I scoffed to myself. But she didn't need to hear that. Glancing away at the TV, I tried to process that for a minute. At least this hadn't been some long, elaborate ruse just to get into my pants; I could appreciate that a lot more than if it were. On the other hand, it was kinda sad. Knives saw potential in us as a couple long before I did, and it felt off-balance. Wrong.

Maybe I needed to step up my girlfriend-game to make up for that. Not that I had any idea how.

"You deserve better."

"Don't do that thing," she warned me with a little purse of her lips.

"Fine, I won't. But you do." And I let it go at that.

All nails were painted and clear-coated, and I got off without having to match Knives in her toe-kissing intensity. Which was great, because… no thanks. Trying to do better in the dating department than just playing Super Smash Bros. and being an asshole, I let her be the little spoon and recline against me as we lounged and watched an old DuckTales VHS, barely talking and mostly just enjoying that closeness. The feeling of legs against my own, warm bodies close together, was… weird. Like a preview of what it would be like sleeping next to her someday? I don't know.

Finally, she yawned and I agreed that it was getting late. "I'll make up the couch while you brush your teeth or whatever."

"Okay. Yeah, I have a whole ritual; it takes a little longer than yours, of course."

"Of course," I scoffed with sarcasm. Not that I was sure what she meant. "Go for it."

Once I had a sheet down on the cushions, I nodded to myself and sighed, then looked around and started clearing away some of the food-related trash. Then I moved her suitcase — what was in that thing?! — and got my living room as ready to be a bedroom as it was ever gonna be. Was I really going to dote so much now that we were sorta-kinda together? It boggled the mind.

Decked out in my own PJs, which were more like just a ratty tee and sporty shorts, I heard the toilet flush. After a second, I went to knock on the bathroom door. "Knives?"

"Yeah?"

Pushing it open, I started asking, "Do you sleep with the light on or…"

We both froze. It wasn't that she was naked or anything; she wasn't. Her underwear was on, and so was her top, but her PJ pants were down to her knees and she was seated on the toilet, lid closed. That wasn't the problem. It was the hypodermic needle she had stabbed into her thigh.

"Off, usually; though I have a Keroppi night light from when I was little that I leave on in case I have to get up to pee. Forgot to bring it, though."

What the fuck?!

                                                           To Be Continued…

[purpleflamingosarelife]

Black is the New Sin (Pt. 2)

**Just a few warnings: **This part is quite heavy and emotional. There are mentions of sexual abuse, violence and abuse to minors. I don’t think anyone will ever read this, but in case someone does, just know that there probably will be more parts like this and that I literally know nothing about the law or police work at all so bear with me on that. Thank you for reading and enjoy!

Shane

I opened my eyes. The first thing that I saw was a Rosie the Riveter poster that said, ‘we can do it!’ in thick, white letters. It kept me inspired and optimistic because, quite frankly, being a cop could be depressing sometimes. At least for me. I always had to wonder what was going on in some peoples’ lives that they would stoop to this level.

Sitting up, I checked my phone. There were no notifications, really. Nothing but IFunny and this one other game that I had. Sadly, there were no notifications from Zing.com.

That meant that there had been zero women that had liked my profile. 

Jesus, what was it? Was it because I was a cop and they thought I was hard and rude, maybe too serious? Was it... Was it because my hair was red? 

I decided to push that aside. It didn’t matter right now. 

After a quick shower and shave, I polished my boots and cleaned my gun. I took joy in maintaining my uniform because that meant that I could take pride in the aura of professionalism that leaked from the outskirts of the blast radius of my good looks. 

My second alarm went off, triggering me to holster my gun and hop up. I put my uniform on, then gelled up my hair and combed it into the perfect pompadour, or my everyday look. 

“Frankie!” I shouted playfully. Almost immediately, tiny paws began pattering throughout the apartment, eventually finding their way to  my bathroom door. I looked down to see the little black and white Boston terrier looking up at me expectantly. I gasped excitedly and knelt down.

“Oh, Mr. Sinatra, how are you this morning?” He started panting happily. 

Another alarm went off on my phone. Time to leave. 

On my way out the door, I dropped a cup of food in Frankie’s bowl. He immediately began chomping away at his bowl. 

“Good boy,” I whispered as I shut the door. I speed walked down to the parking garage and unlocked my 2010 SS Camaro from across the garage, checking the time as I did so. 

It was only 7:00. I had time to drop by the coffee shop and grab some bagels and coffees. I even knew what Finn would want. 

--

The coffee shop was nearly dead, so I strolled in and ordered two glazed donuts and two simple espressos. 

“We’ll have that right out to you, sir,” the barista behind the counter politely stated. I nodded with a small smile as I walked over to a table to have a seat. 

My phone dinged. I pulled it out of my pocket and looked at the screen, where a little gray bubble with text inside it floated just below the stated time. 

Message from: Finn Dahlgren

Finn: Mornin’, sunshine. Where you at?

I smiled to the screen as I scanned my thumb on the home button.

Shane: Getting some food at the coffee shop, I replied. A few seconds later, the little bubble to signal that he was typing popped up.

Finn: Oh. See anyone cute?

Shane: No. There ain’t anyone here.

Finn: So there’s no barista making your coffee?

Shane: Yes, there’s a barista.

Finn: Which one is it?

Shane: The cute one with coppery-blonde hair.

Finn: So there are some cute girls there.

Shane: No, I don’t want to bother her. Who she is is none of my business.

Finn: Just go for it. See you at work. 

I put my phone back in my pocket as the barista walked out with two cups and a small paper bag. I stood to meet her at the counter with my wallet at the ready. 

“Alright, Sir,” she shyly said. I leaned on the counter just a bit, trying to make it apparent that I wasn’t going to be a jerk or be too weird. Her shyness was understandable. I was a decently tall and muscular guy, and on top of that, I was wearing a police uniform. I looked a bit scary to some people. This barista, this girl, was on the shorter side and had a thin structure. In comparison to her, I was pretty much a gorilla. 

“That’ll be twenty-one, ninety-five,” she continued, looking up at me with crystal blue eyes. “Is that all you’ll need today?” I shook my head gently.

“No, miss, that’ll be all. I’d just like you to know that you’re very polite and professional. So, thank you for being such an awesome human being.”  She blushed a little and counted my cash before picking me out a nickel for change. 

“Well thank you, Officer, for protecting the city.” She handed me the small coin and, for the smallest second, our hands touched and our eyes lingered on each other. 

She smiled, pulling her hand away. Her cheeks were rather red. 

“Enjoy, Sir.”

“Have a lovely day.” 

With that, I turned on my heel and walked out the door. 

-- 

I dramatically burst through the doors of the Officers’ Lounge, striding over to a chair and jumping up onto it.

“Well look at that, Cowboy Harris,” Finn the Wisecrack shouted from the corner of the room, sauntering over to meet me. I handed him his coffee and held the bag out in my left hand, doing a weird surfer pose on my toes. I’d thrown my sunglasses on before I entered the room for dramatic effect. 

“The one and only,” I playfully answered before hopping off the chair and removing my glasses. 

“Yeah, you’re a real rock star,” Officer Jansen called from across the room. Rodriguez laughed and high-fived him. 

I made a dramatic, snobby face. “You’re just jealous that you’re not as fabulous as I am.” Everyone laughed. My watch beeped, signalling that it was time for work to start. I continued. “That makes eight, everyone! Get to work!” 

Finn and I, already knowing our assignment, headed out to the parking lot to where our squad car was. It was one of the relatively newer, nicer ones that the police department had purchased-- a Dodge Charger. 

“Well look at you, Dahlgren,” I teased. “Growing some facial hair.” I reached over to run my fingers on his rough stubble. He pulled away, irritated.

“Hey, I’m fuckin’ driving here, dumb ass,” he whined. I was about to reply something smart when the familiar ding of a notification sounded from my phone. I pulled it out to look at the screen.

“Who’s that? Your imaginary girlfriend?” He stabbed jokingly. I smirked as I momentarily diverted my eyes from the screen.

“No, it’s your little sister. She wants to know when I’m gonna lay down the pipe again,” I joked back as I read the notification. As soon as my eyes met the text, A rush of excitement shot through my body. 

It was from Zing.Com. 

Eden Halifax clicked ‘like’ on your profile!

Despite my excitement, I put my phone away, as we were almost to our call. I had to begin mentally preparing myself for this one. 

A man-- the victim’s uncle, to be exact-- had been sneaking into said victim’s house while the parents were away and doing... God, I was sick thinking about it. 

It brought back bad memories.

It was the reason that I even became a cop in the first place. 

Anyways, long story short, he’d been caught red handed via a hidden nanny cam within the house. Her dad was on his way home from work, but sadly enough for this creep, we’d arrived first.

“Shane, we’re here. We need to hurry.” I violently opened the door and did a hood slide, sprinting toward the house and bursting through the door long before Finn had even made it across the street. 

“Police!” I screamed as I ran past the living room. With every step I took, I became even more sickened and angry. 

They were in the main floor’s office, as I’d learned from the operator. I put my ear to the door to listen to the commotion for a second.

“I’m not letting you hurt me and make me feel worthless anymore!” A female voice screamed. This was followed by a thud and a grunt of pain.

“Ah! You little bitch! C’mere!” There were more screams.

I didn’t even check if the door was locked, and I didn’t even care where Dahlgren was. I was pissed. 

“Get on the ground!” I shouted after I kicked the door down. He was advancing on her angrily. She was seemingly alright, as she had apparently fighting him off. He was only more angry, aggressive, and determined to bring harm to that girl. He didn’t even seem to notice me.

I watched him raise his hand before I sprung on him and pinned him against the wall.

“You’re under arrest,” I growled into his ear as I attempted to handcuff him. He headbutted me and attempted to wrestle away from me. This resulted in me slamming him onto the floor roughly and digging my knee into his lower back. 

At this moment, Finn decided to run in and assist me in the arrest. Once he was cuffed, I told him to take care of the girl. As they exited the room, I rolled the suspect onto his back.

“Hey, I didn’t do a fuckin’ thing, man,” he spat.

“Bullshit,” I shouted. “That’s your fuckin’ niece! Your niece! And you’re in here doing bad stuff to her, hurting her?! You wanna know how she feels when you do that shit to her? You wanna know how she feels when her peers bully her about being a slut because you can’t fucking control yourself?!” I continued shouting as I stepped off of him, going to get another officer to come in here. Just before I exited the room, I turned around and shot my finger at him accusingly.

“You’re fucking sick, and you’re going to jail.” I said in a quieter manner. My voice quivered angrily. I stormed out of the room, out of the house. I stormed right up to Officer Dan Cruz and ran my fingers through my hair. 

“You need to go deal with that son of a bitch before I get mad and do something bad,” I commanded before walking back into the house and up to Finn and the girl. She was in tears and Finn was just standing there, not really knowing what to do. He was never good with emotions, or kids. 

I nodded at him to step away and knelt down to meet her shaking frame’s position in the corner. She looked up at me. I was pretty sure I was crying, too, because cases like these were always the closest to home. 

She jumped into my arms, and I held her, comforted her, while we both wept. 

“Everything’s gonna be alright,” I managed to say through my tears. “He ain’t gonna hurt you anymore.” 

I almost forgot about the special someone who’d liked my profile.