#I had worked two 11 hour days on the water back to back

[finrays]

The thing about having accidentally brutalized the end of your face with the corner of an open door is that… if your nose isn’t outright broken? It doesn’t hurt unless you touch it.

Which has led to me absently going to clip my hairclip to it several times today, as I am wont to do when I’m not paying attention, and bringing myself to a SCREECHING halt at the last minute like “Wait a minute…”

[moonstruckme]

Thanks for being patient with me! This is edited on about four hours of sleep so apologies for any errors <3

part 1 │ part 2 │ part 3 │ part 4 │part 5 │ part 6 │ part 7 │ part 8 │ part 9 │ part 10 │ part 11 │ part 12 │ part 13

roommate!James x shy!reader ♡ 1.6k words

Water sizzles on the stove. You reach over to turn down the heat, your side heating from its proximity to the boiling water, before spinning back around to keep speed-chopping onion. This is a result of poor planning. 

It’s possible that some of your nerves could be reinterpreted as excitement. Giddiness, even. You’re finally—finally—doing something to try and repay all the kindness James shows you. You’ve felt like such a mooch, eating his cooking and stealing his time with his friends, but last week had been too much for you to take. He’d discovered the stomach bug you were weathering, and James had completely devoted the next two days of his life to making sure you were looked after. 

Your fever had gotten so out of hand he’d very nearly followed through on his favorite threat (going into your phone while you’re sleeping and phoning your mum), and though you’d done your best to downplay it at the time there are admittedly gaps in your memory wherein you think you were simply too out of it to know what was going on. It’s not a very comforting thought when you’re harboring a humiliating crush on your roommate; you may well have been just as talkative as James always is, you don’t know. At least he hasn’t said anything. 

He had, thankfully, managed to avoid catching it. You’re not sure how he managed what no one on your shift at work did, but you assume it has something to do with all that kale he eats. Which is why you’re doing your best to make the thank-you meal you’re making him as healthy as might suit his standards. 

You hear his key in the door, and a little frisson goes up your spine. 

“You’re early,” you accuse as he walks in. 

“Since when do you know when my training ends?” James asks. You sound like you’re sniping at one another, but as usual the joviality in his tone is unmissable. 

The sounds of his entrance are familiar, perhaps more ingrained in your mind than they ought to be. Keys jingling as he hangs them on the hook, shoes toed off and left by the mat, heavy footsteps headed for wherever you are in the apartment. 

When he finds you in the kitchen, you both speak at once. 

“What happened to your shoulder?” 

“You know how to cook?” 

“Hurt it at training,” James answers, shrugging with the shoulder that doesn’t have an ice pack held to it. He’s probably too nice for it to occur to him to withhold his answer until you’ve given yours, as had been your first thought. “What are you making?” 

“How did you hurt it?” Worry pries at your tone. Your hands have stilled on the cutting board. 

“We had a scrimmage, and I got shoulder-barged.” He gives you a smile, a shadow of the real thing, but gentler. Reassuring. “It’s not bad.” 

You frown. “I don’t know what that means.” 

“Didn’t expect you to, love.” 

“Why do you need to ice it if it’s not bad?” 

There’s a look in James’ eyes that’s wavering between smugness and softness. You balk at the sight of it. “I need to be a bit careful with it,” he hedges, “but it’ll be good by morning. Now, you’ve distracted me. Do you mean to tell me you’ve known how to cook this entire time?” 

“Yes,” you concede with a laugh. “I’ve always said I cook for myself when you’re not around.” 

“And here you are, doing it right before my eyes.” James leans on the counter with his good arm. He looks immensely entertained. “I’m honored.” 

“This isn’t just for me,” you say, looking down to resume chopping onion as your face warms slightly. “It’s for—” Another remonstrative hiss from the stove, and you whip around, moving the pot off the hot part entirely. You’re a bit relieved for the excuse to face away from him. “It’s for both of us. Also, I just want to provide a disclaimer right now that I never said I was good at cooking, only that I knew how.” 

James’ laugh rumbles behind you, just as you knew it would. He’s too easy. You can practically feel the force of his smile hitting your back, like the sunshine brought inside. 

“Here,” he says, taking a couple of steps toward you, “let me help.” 

“No!” You whirl again, stopping him before he can actually enter the kitchen. “No way. James, I’m trying to do something nice.” 

“And it is very nice,” he says, earnest. “It just seems like you could use a hand.” 

“I’ve got it,” you insist. Your hands are up to ward him off, but you put them at your sides when you realize how close they’re hovering to his chest. “It doesn't count as doing something for you if you do it yourself. Anyway, you’re incapacitated.” 

“I’m…” James looks confused, but then he glances down to his icing shoulder. “Oh, come on. I’m hardly immobilized.” 

“For all intents and purposes, you are.” You do your best to infuse your voice with conviction. You’ve found that’s usually the way with James. If you show any hesitation, he’ll turn on the charm and have you eating out of his hand before you know what’s happened. You herd him away from the kitchen. “Go sit down. Dinner will be ready soon.” 

You can’t help but be aware of him as you finish up, knowing he has to hear the sizzling when you accidentally spill things onto the stove or the one mumbled curse you’re not quick enough to bite back. All evidence that you’re not nearly as practiced a cook as James. You can practically feel his grin from a room over. Still, when it's done you’re fairly proud of yourself. 

James is beaming as he accepts his bowl. He hikes his knees up so you can pass between the couch and the coffee table, making a show of sniffing the steam rising from the food. 

“Is this risotto?” he asks, waiting for your little nod before his mouth drops open in astonishment. “You are so sneaky! I didn’t know you could cook at all, let alone fancy shit like this.” 

“It’s not that hard to make.” You look down at your fork as you raise it to your lips, blowing. 

“Sure it is! Loads of people have a hard time with it.” 

“Do you?” 

James grins, caught. You feel your own smile tugging at your lips as you take a bite.

He follows suit, forking a bit of the risotto and blowing to cool it before taking it in his mouth. His eyes dip closed, head lolling back, and he moans. 

“Oh my god, this is good. I’m never cooking again, now that I know you can do this.” 

You take another bite to avoid a response. You’re fairly sure the heat from your face could power the apartment for a month. 

James makes a few more over-the-top compliments of your culinary skills, which you deflect as best you can. As always, you eat mostly silently while he chatters, but when you look over your attention gets snagged on his shoulder. 

He’s only using the one hand to eat, bowl resting in his lap while you hold yours up closer to your face. His ice pack sits beside him now that he can’t hold it on anymore. You catch yourself gnawing on the inside of your lip. 

“Does it hurt?” you ask. 

James looks over, following your gaze. “Yeah,” he admits. “Nothing I’m not used to, though.” 

You feel your eyebrows pinch. “You get hurt often?” 

He smiles bemusedly. “It’s rugby, love. Getting a bit roughed up is part of the deal.” 

This doesn’t sit right with you. Though you hadn’t pondered it much before, you realize you’ve sort of been thinking of James, with his muscles and constant smiles and easygoing manner, as somewhat invincible. He seems like such a source of light in the world, it hadn’t occurred to you that anything bad could happen to him. You don’t like the idea of him being hurt. In any capacity. 

You realize this is likely playing out on your face when you notice James watching you. His eyes are soft. “As much as I would love to milk this for attention and maybe a sponge bath,” he says, setting his fork in his bowl, “it’s really not that bad. See?” 

He pulls down the sleeve of his shirt, and the effort to placate you is wasted. You take in a quiet, horrified gasp at the deeply colored bruise on James’ shoulder. One of your hands raises as if to touch it. It hovers in the space between you. 

“That’s not that bad?” you look at James in alarm. “It looks broken.” 

“It’s not,” he laughs. It’s a bit awkward, as close to self-conscious as you’ve ever seen him. “Trust me, I’ve had a couple broken bones in my time. It’s only bruised, and the muscle’s a bit strained.” 

The muscle, you’re noticing now, is quite substantial. Your focus is on the bruise, but the shoulder beneath it is eye-catching as well, hefty and taut-looking, presumably from the strain. That, or James is flexing. 

You raise your gaze quickly to his. Brown eyes tinged with smugness. 

“You’re worried about me.” His lips stretch into a grin. Not your favorite one in his arsenal. “Aw, sweetheart, I love you too.” 

You direct your attention back to your food, face hotter than hot. “I have justification for worry,” you say, the teasing tone you were going for undercut by the unintentional softness of your voice. “You’re voluntarily participating in a sport that seems like it’s trying to kill you.” 

James takes a self-satisfied bite of his risotto. “I don’t know, I was pretty worried when you fainted in my arms last week.” 

You side-eye him suspiciously. “I didn’t actually do that.” 

“Guess you’ll never know.” 

[taesanrot]

[soothe] taesan x f!reader | 1.9k words established relationship, body worshipper!taesan, office worker!taesan, fluff and mostly smut note. this is kinda new territory for meeee thank u to anon who requested this <333 i had fun writing this and imagining taesan as a little office worker

as a manager at his company, taesan typically had his plate full no matter what day it was. for some reason though, today was exceptionally taxing on him.

fingers typing away mindlessly at an email to his higher up, taesan couldn't help but daydream about ditching in the middle of his shift and driving home with the windows down, letting the wind mess up his hair. he thought about how nice it would be to come home to you.

taesan checked the time; it was only 11:30 in the morning. your work hours were a bit more flexible since you worked from home, you were probably showering and getting yourself ready to log in.

screwing his eyes shut, he shuddered at the way his mind wandered to you under the hot water.

you always turned the water a little too hot before stepping in, letting out a little yelp before fixing the temperature. he imagined the suds running down your shoulders and down the curves and ridges of your body, the thought almost making him throw his head back against his chair.

fuck.

taesan usually tried not to think of you at work, especially you showering or changing. it always got him so worked up and made waiting for the end of his work day even more unbearable.

chewing the inside of his cheek, taesan grabbed his phone and sent you a quick text message, a cute little picture of him at his desk.

you opened it within a minute and sent a picture back. taesan held his breath as he clicked the notification open. smiling softly, he took in the sight of you.

you were perched in your desk chair with your legs crossed, sipping a cup of coffee you probably just brewed in your shared kitchen.

taesan wished you knew what you did to him. while the thought of you drove him crazy and kept him all pent up, it also calmed him down and soothed his nerves like no drug ever could.

locking his phone and looking back at his work, taesan groaned. it was going to be a long afternoon.

[...]

pushing your glasses up your nose, you typed away at your desktop computer, sitting criss crossed in your desk chair. the last rays of the evening sun shone through the window of your and taesan's shared apartment.

yawning, you leaned back and stretched out your arms and shoulders, groaning slightly. your coffee from this morning was now cold, you decided to take a break and reheat the rest of it.

grabbing the mug and walking over to the kitchen, you placed it in the microwave and leant against the counter. as the microwaved beeped and your drink was warmed up, you heard the front door unlock and creak as it was pushed open.

you smiled and pulled your drink out of the microwave, waiting for your boyfriend to walk around the corner.

you heard a loud sigh and the sound of shoes and a bag hitting the ground and before you knew it, taesan appeared in front of you.

hair messy and tie loosened, the boy sighed in relief at the sight of you, the one he was waiting to come home to. he strided across the kitchen and into your arms, exhaling louding as he melted into you.

"i missed you." you blushed at how raspy your boyfriend sounded, the exhaustion evident in his tired voice.

taesan pressed his face in your neck, inhaling deeply and tightening his grip on you even more. your hands came up to rub circles along his spine, encouraged by the sounds of satisfaction that echoed into your skin.

after a minute, you attempted to pull away from him, remembering your coffee sitting on the table. taesan trapped you in his grip, molding himself to your body as if he was trying to bury himself under your skin.

"no" you laughed at his stubborn voice, calmly cooing at him.

"taesan, my coffe-" you were shushed by your clingy boyfriend as he walked the two of you over to the living room couch, keeping his arms wrapped around you the whole time.

"i'll make you some fresh coffee later." and with that, he sat down and pulled you onto his lap, moving your legs so they rested on either side of his.

finally face to face with him again, you smiled at taesan's pouty lips. you brought a hand up to smooth down some of his messy hair, smiling at the way he practically melted into your touch.

his hand came up to intertwine with yours and he pulled it to his lips, placing a wet kiss on the back of your hands.

the loud smack made you giggle and taesan moved to your face, loudly pecking your cheeks and forehead and nose. he even kissed your eyelids, further egging on your laughter.

after he was satisfied with teasing you, taesan sighed and leaned further back against the couch, pulling you with him so your head rested in the crook of his neck.

you sighed in delight as you breathed in the scent of him. practically feeling the exhaustion radiate off of his body, your hands moved to undo his tie and take off his jacket.

taesan remained motionless, smiling at the way you doted on him so sweetly. no matter how hard or long any day at work was, he always felt at peace knowing he'd come back to you.

you who'd take care of him without a second question. you know he'd do the exact same for you, that if you asked him he'd rub out every knot in your body or clean every inch of the apartment for you.

left in his dress pants and shirt, you undid the top two buttons to relieve the pressure around his neck before going back to your previous position. taesan's arms snaked around your waist, hands loosely resting on your hips, and his eyes fluttered shut.

taesan shivered as he felt you breathe against the shell of his ear.

"do you want me to rub your back?" you asked tenderly. taesan pondered the idea for a moment before shaking his head.

"mmm, just wanna lay here with you." you smiled and got up from his lap, pushing his shoulders lightly so he could move to lay down across the couch.

you grabbed a small throw blanket from the ottoman nearby. turning back to walk towards the couch, you laughed at taesan's pouty face, arms outstreched towards you.

"you're like a cat, sani" you giggled before joining him on the couch, draping the blanket over the two of you. taesan wrapped his arms around you. breathing in happily, you listened to the sound of his heart beating as his warmth encased you.

taesan's hand moved up and down your sides, trying to memorize every ridge of your body with his fingertips.

you inhaled slightly as his hand ghosted over your boob, opening your eyes to look at his.

"can i?" taesan asks softly, smiling when he watches you nod mindlessly.

taesan dragged a finger down the valley of your breasts, watching the way chest moves with your shallow breaths. his hand trailed further down the front of your body, twisting the hem of your shirt and waiting for you to move your arms so he can take it off. you moved your body up so he can pull the article off of you, now left in your bra and sweatpants. you laid down on top of him and while taesan loves the sight of your boobs squished against his chest, he needed to be on top of you.

your boyfriend flipped the two of you so he was now hovering over you. he bit his lip at the sight of you, looking up at him with your doe eyes. your tongue came out to lick your lips and taesan almost saw stars.

he brought a hand to massage the skin of your right breast, palming your nipple over the cup of your bra. you closed your eyes and tilted your head back as he lowered his head to kiss the skin between your breasts. taesan's mouth moved up your left boob, teeth grazing the skin as he sucked and licked to his desire.

his mouth was warm against you, making you arch your back and push your chest into him. he responded to his immediately, taking the opportunity to slip a hand under you and unhook your bra.

bra discarded on the floor, taesan cupped your right boob and massaged it slowly, tweaking your nipple slightly. he peppered kisses along your chest, stopping to take your nipple in his mouth. you moaned at the way his tongue swirled around the bud, his hot breath making you shake underneath him.

his hands traveled downward to squeeze your hips, holding you down as you squirmed underneath him. running a hand through his hair, you tugged it slightly before tapping his chin lightly. breathless, your boyfriend looked up at you curiously. he received an answer as you pulled him up to be face to face with you.

taesan could read you like a book, he knew you wanted to kiss him from the way your fingers traced his neck and jaw. bringing a hand to curl around your neck, he let his lips meet yours, melting against them softly. you were more than eager, wrapping your arms around him and pulling him into you.

as taesan sucked your bottom lip and stuck his tongue into your mouth, you unbuttoned the rest of his shirt, tugging it slightly. you boyfriend chuckled above you, detached himself from your lips to pull his shirt off completely.

you sighed, finally being able to run your hands down his bare back. one hand moved into his hair to tug and massage his scalp as the other rubbed circles along his shoulders and spine. occasionally, you let your nails lightly scratch against his skin, just the way he liked it.

"that feels so good." taesan's voice rumbled into your skin as he rested his head on your chest, cheek pressed against the pulsing skin under which your heart was beating softly.

reaching back to pull the blanket back over the two of you, taesan snuggled into you, wrapping his arms around your torso and waist and basking under your attention. nothing soothed him the way you did, the feeling of your palms and fingers against his bare skin filling up the cracks of exhaustion and frustration within him.

your hands slowed their movements, and your boyfriend looked up from your chest to see you snuggled into the couch's armrest, eyes shut. the boy smiled at the sight of you, shifting upwards so he could lay his head on the armrest beside yours.

you stirred slightly, and taesan wrapped at arm around you to pull you into his chest. he felt his heart bloom as you sleepily hugged him closer to you.

the apartment was almost completely dark now, only lit up by the dull glow of your computer screen. pressing your head into the crook of his neck, taesan felt like the luckiest man ever, falling asleep to the slow sounds of your breathing.

[teamatsumu]

kinktober 2023 -> day 11

strangers - iwaizumi hajime x reader

word count: 1,578

warnings: swearing, regular smut warnings, squirting, oral (m!receiving), iwaizumi hajime (27) athletic trainer can make a girl lose her sanity and that’s canon in my head

kinktober masterlist

“Who’s this for?”

You eyed the murky golden liquid in the glass the bartender had just set down in front of you before looking up at him in question. The bartender jerked his head to the side in response.

“He says it’s on him.”

You followed his gaze over to the other side of the circular bar, eyes meeting with the man sitting there, alone like you were, staring directly back at you as if waiting for you to see him.

Your breath hitched. Oh, he was gorgeous.

The red lights in the club bounced off his frame, highlighting the built muscles stretching under his t-shirt. Half his face was in shadow, yet you could make out the strong jut of his jaw, the pierce of his stare, closely cropped spiky hair. He lifted a glass up to his lips, one that you followed eagerly with your eyes, and took a small sip. You gulped.

It took half an hour for him to slam your front door behind the two of you, pushing you into the wall with his frame before his lips met yours in a fiery kiss. You gasped and moaned into his mouth, tugging at his shirt like it was offending you, wanting nothing more than to rip it off and run your hands all over his body, feel how his muscles shifted and moved as he did unspeakable things to you-

“Fuck.” He groaned into your neck, teeth sinking into your skin as his hands slid under your skirt and grabbed handfuls of your ass so you would arch into him. You whined at the sting of his bite, feeling your core clench around nothing.

“T-take this off.” You whimpered until he pulled back, tugging his shirt off his to reveal beautiful expanse of bronzed skin. You wasted no time in running your fingers up his arms, the flex of his biceps, his shoulders, tense and ready. His abs clenched as you brushed over them, and you felt your mouth water when you touched the v-line that led to his pants.

“Wanna suck your cock.” You whispered, looking up at his face again. His eyebrows shot up in shock before a smirk tugged up the corner of his lips.

“And here I was, thinking you were one of the shy ones.” His voice was so husky that you moaned. He reached a hand up to tangle in your hair, pushing down on your head.

“C’mon then, sweetheart. Get on your knees.”

You nearly came.

You lowered yourself down, trembling hands undoing the button on his jeans, eyes never leaving the bulge that was struggling to get out from the confines of his clothes. Your eyes widened as you stared at his dick, long and thick and flushed in a furious maroon color. You could feel his smirk as he stared down at you, but your eyes never left his crotch. You licked your lips, unable to wait a second longer.

His groan was heavenly when you took him into your mouth, as far as he would go, too impatient to work him in properly. You didn’t take the time to slowly relax your throat around him. You were in no mood to go slow. You wanted to choke on him and have him fuck your face hard and rough until your mind was too foggy to register anything around you.

Why else would you hook up with a complete stranger?

“Jesus fuck.” The man swore, hand tightening in your hair and groaning loud when he hit the back of your throat, making you gag a bit as your eyes watered. You struggled to breathe through your nose, pushing forward again and moaning long and loud, nose brushing against the skin of his pelvis. A sharp tug immediately pulled you off his cock, making you gasp and whine at the loss. One more tug and you were stumbling onto your feet. You met his eyes then, breath hitching at how dilated his pupils were, at how his lids had fallen to half open, looking at you hungrily.

“You’re too good at that, princess.” He groaned, stepping forward so your body was once again pressed to the wall behind you. “But I wanna cum with my cock deep in your pussy instead.”

You moaned and flushed at his statement. The foul language coming from him was turning you on immensely, the thought of some unknown man stripping you of your clothes and talking about how your pussy would feel around his cock made you clench hard, feeling wetness run down your thighs. He hooked a hand behind your knee, pulling your leg up so you were spread for him, the other hand reaching up to run through your folds, making you whine and jerk up at the contact.

‘You’re soaked, baby.” He cooed, breath hot on your neck. The tip of his finger prodded at your entrance, and you moved into his touch, making him chuckle.

“I- please,” your voice trembled. “Please.”

He wrapped the leg he was holding around his waist, supporting your weight and lifting the other leg around him too, pressing you into the wall. His cock brushed your slit, head breaching your hole and making you arch into him.

“The name’s Hajime.” He whispered against the shell of your ear. “Scream it, princess.”

With that, he slammed his cock into you.

You screamed and arched, breath knocked out of you when he wasted no time in picking up the speed, cock pounding into you over and over with no signs of stopping. Your hands shot up, trying to find purchase over the wide expanse of his sweaty back, nails digging into his skin. You cried and gasped, arching into the amazing feeling as his cock tore through you, hitting spots you didn’t even know you had, tingling nerves that had never been touched before, his skin sliding against your own and his breath hot on your neck.

“H-Hajime!” You weeped, one hand reaching up to clutch at his hair, unable to breathe properly when the head of his cock brushed against your sweet spot. You jerked and wailed at the feeling. His lips curled up into a smirk against your neck.

“Found it.” He whispered, angling his hips so it would hit the same spot over and over again. Tears streamed down your face and you shrieked, struggling against his hold, which only tightened, locked you in place so he could pound into you, stimulating every fiber of your body until your head was spinning, until it was too much-

“I’m gonna cum.” You choked out, nails digging so hard into his back that they broke the skin. But you didn’t care, not when your core was clenching around him for dear life, not when he was hitting your spot so wonderfully. And not when you knew what was going to happen when you came. You could feel it. This build up was too familiar to ignore.

“Hajime, I’m- I’m gonna make a mess.” You whined, feeling fresh tears pour from your eyes. He lifted his head from your neck, eyes meeting your wet ones. His pupils were blown. Sweat dripped from his forehead and his hair was sticking out in all directions. His cheeks held the most beautiful maroon flush you had ever seen. You felt your core tighten at the sight.

He smirked as he looked at you, at how destroyed you were. “You’re gonna make a mess?” He grunted, speed picking up even more. You screamed again.

“Yes!” You arched your back, eyes squeezing shut. You felt no shame in that moment, despite how dirty it was. Oh, it was filthy, warning this stranger who had his cock inside you that he was fucking you so good you were about to squirt on him. It made your eyes roll back. And all it did was turn you on more.

“Fuck.” He choked out. “Do it, baby. C’mon. Wanna feel you gush all over my cock. C’mon princess, cum all over me.”

And that’s all it took. You wailed as your vision blacked out, every muscle in your body seizing as you felt wetness gather all over your crotch and his. Your lungs refused to expand with air, choking and gasping as your body jerked and tensed, mind turned to mush at the intensity of your orgasm. You barely registered Hajime groaning and stilling, emptying himself into you and digging his teeth into your neck as you went limp in his arms.

All was silent for a few minutes, both of you trying to catch your breaths. You blinked a few times, trying to clear your vision. When your eyes met his again, he gave you a lazy smile.

“Wow.” His voice was raspy and broken. You choked out a laugh.

“We didn’t even make it to your bedroom.” He continued, pulling out of you and moving to set you down. Your legs gave out when your feet hit the ground, making Hajime tense and hold on to you tighter. You stared at each other for a few seconds before he snorted.

“Alright, c’mon Bambi.” He lifted you up again, bridal style, walking further into your house. He stopped in the middle of the living room, staring at you sheepishly. You laughed.

“Bathroom is the first door on the left.” You grinned at him. He started walking, a softer smile on his face.

“You never told me your name, princess.”

Taglist:

@bxbyyyjocelyn @thisbicc @lazuliquartz @dreamayy @kuroosluthoe @true-form-hoe @akumakitsune21 1 @cham0mil3-and-h0n3y @samisfunky @universal-s1ut @msbyomimi @dohwaesu @leothesquishy @n0tmykays @tsukiran n @reyofsunshinelol @bleach-your-panties @galaneiaeris @leyra-giovanni @erenspersonalwh0re @peachesncats @soapsoftheworld @iwannabecamiloshovel @vintagevict0ria @smithieandy @moonlit-mizukage @snazzyturtles

A/N: For those whose tags arent working, im sorry! I tried and for some reason, your names wont show up in the mentions :( another way of being notified is to turn on my blog notifs for @teamatsumufics . I only reblog my fics there so it serves almost like being in a taglist!

[linopls]

kinktober day eight

breeding hyunjin x fem!reader summary: hyunjin figures out a new kink of yours. warnings: SMUT MINORS DNI, degradation, humiliation, oral (male receiving), unprotected p in v 1.5k words

you haven't seen hyunjin in two weeks. neither of your schedules have aligned for fourteen days. you’re going what one would call boyfriend-withdrawal and it was terminal. you both had finally found a day that works, or a night. hyunjin told you he would be outside your apartment at 9:00 PM, it was 11:00PM. 

you’re fighting sleep at this point. you’ve had a coffee, an energy drink, and have turned down your AC to levels that will keep you awake. but you were just about to give up and let sleep overtake you on your couch, when you hear the sound of keys and your door knob moving. you jump off the couch, almost tripping in the process. 

before hyunjin can even enter your apartment, you’ve enveloped him in a kiss. he slides his unoccupied arm around your lower back and pulls you closer. he walks you both back into the room and shuts the front door with his foot without breaking contact. he drops his overnight back at your feet and wraps his now freed arm around your upper back, pulling your chest against his.

his lips are soft, everytime you kiss him that’s the first thing you think. they’re plush and soft and fit against yours like a puzzle piece. the way he kisses is perfect, it's never too sloppy but you can always taste him on your lips for hours after you’ve kissed him. he always knows exactly how to hold you to keep you close and drive you insane. 

you start to slide your hands under his shirt and rub your fingers over his abs when he pulls away.

“baby, i have barely gotten in the door,” he laughs, looking down at you. “what’s up with you today?” 

“i’ve missed you so much.” you grab the bottom of his shirt and pull it up and over his head. “so, so, so much,” you say, dragging your nails gently back down his chest.

“don’t start something we both know you can’t finish,” he says sternly. you can tell by the way he talks that there is love behind everything he says and that he’s missed you too, but you decide to play along and see how far you can go and push his buttons.

“i can finish anything i start, hyunjin.”

“go sit on your bed. i’ll be there in a minute.”

his demeanor change sends waves of heat to your core. and as you hurry into your bedroom you catch a glimpse of the tent forming in his shorts. 

you take the extra time hyunjin has given you to light the candles on your night stand and shut the blinds on the window. you adjust the pillows upright and and adjust the comforter and sit with you back against the headboard while you wait for your pretty boyfriend to come back. 

he returns after about five minutes, his shirt still off and his overnight bag in his hand. he places it down on your dresser before stopping to look at you. “come here,” he commands, motioning you with his finger. 

you crawl to the edge of the bed and let your feet hang off the side. “get up,” he says, his tone never shifting, you obey and stand. he turns to face you, places a soft kiss on your lips. “kneel.”

you drop to the floor with enthusiasm, staring face to face with his crotch. you move you hand to palm him through his shorts, but he swats your hand away before you make content. “i didn’t say you could touch me, you’re so desperate.”

you whine. “‘m sorry.”

“show me how sorry you are,” he says, sliding his shorts down his legs revealing his long and dripping cock. 

your mouth waters at the sight and you go to wrap your lips around the tip and he stops you again. “you’re such a little cockslut, aren’t you? hmm? just open your mouth for me.”

it was like you were playing ‘simon says’ the way hyunjin said anything and you compiled, no questions asked. he slowly slides his cock down your throat. its heavy on your tongue and reaches the back of your throat with ease, you gag and he pulls out, doing the same action again until you are used to the feeling.

“only been gone two weeks and i have to retrain you to take me, hmm?” he laughs.

hyunjin pulls your hair into a makeshift ponytail and whispers a small ‘you ready?’. when you give the go ahead he begins fucking your mouth at an animalistic pace, rutting inside you like he never had before. tears are streaming down your face and your moaning and whining at the feeling of hyunjin using your mouth. 

“fuck, thats it baby,” he grunts between thrusts. “make me feel good.”

your eyes roll to the back of your head and you're humming around him trying to bring him closer to his orgasm,when he stops and pulls out of your mouth.

“strip for me,” he says as he walks over to your bed and sits in the middle, back against the headboards. you do so quickly, knowing what's about to happen next. 

you crawl onto the bed and hover over his cock. “good girl, i didn’t even have to ask,” he praises while putting his hands on your hips.

as you slide down you’re overwhelmed with pleasure. you’ve tried to relieve yourself for two weeks but nothing feels as good as him. you slowly slide yourself up and down his thick cock, admiring the feeling. hyunjin stares at you with admiration and lust.

“will you ride me til i cum, baby?” he doesn’t need to ask, he knows the answer, you’d do anything to please him.

you slowly start to quicken your pace, balancing yourself by gripping his broad shoulders. pleasure hazing your mind at the feeling of his veiny cock sliding against your walls. hyunjin takes his hands and folds them behind his head. you whine at the lost of him touching you.

“you’re fine, baby. you can do the work today, i had a very stressful day,” he says. the way his voice is completely steady during this sends frustration and arousal to your core.

you begin to move faster. you move your hands to his knees in hope that can make you move faster but it doesn’t elicit a reaction from him. you whine again, worried you won’t make him finish yourself.

hyunjin must pick up on your frustration. “you can do it, baby. you can fuck me til i fill up your tight cunt.” 

the thought of him filling you up makes you dizzy. you whimper at the thought and try to ride him faster, moving your hips in circles.

“oh,” hyunjin gasps. “does the idea of me filling you up get you going?”

you whine in response, uncontrollably clenching around his cock. which at this new speed and angle is hitting your cervix directly.

hyunjin smirks. “keep going then, baby. fuck yourself on my cock til i fill you up and keep going so nothing slips out.”

you’re going insane, your mind is full of hyunjin and you want nothing more than to drain him completely. 

“come on, baby. that’s it,” he grunts. “at this rate, you’re gonna get yourself pregnant if you keep going.”

your brain short circuits at the thought and all you're able to do is moan.

hyunjin chuckles. “hm, is that what you want, baby? to be so round and full of me, hm?” he asks, placing his hand on your lower stomach. 

“yes, yes, god yes,” is all you are able to reply with. tears streaming down your face, heart pounding out of your chest, and sweat falling onto the bed below you.

“keep going, i’m gonna fill you up, i’m gonna knock you up so good,” hyunjin is blabbering as his hips grind up to meet yours. he moves his thumb down to your clit and rubs small circles on the sensitive bud. you yelp in pleasure as he finally gives you some assistance. 

“close,” you whine, grinding down desperately on his cock. 

“fuck, fuck!” hyunjin is yelling at that point, humping his throbbing cock up into you. “please cum with me, please cum as i fill you and make you mine. please.”

hyunjin’s cries send you over the edge and you’re cumming all over his cock. your juices slipping all over his lap and your hips buck controllably. before you can even realize it, hyunjin grabs you by the waist and slams you back onto the bed.

“jin! jinnie!” you whine as he continues his brutal attack on your hole. hips spazzing in overstimulation.

“stop squirming slut, take my fucking cum,” he spits. “gonna fill you up til you're swollen and pregnant.”

he thrusts once more before you can fill his cock twitch and his warm seed spilling inside you. he slows down his motions and pulls out. he swiftly replaces his cock with his fingers. he holds your squirming body still with one of his arms over your stomach. 

“i said i didn’t want anything to fall out.”

hehe

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@dvbkie099 @il0v3skz @chrishak@quokkaaah @bex90997 @sheeshhhhfelixsworld @leeknowyah @tumadreposts @hyunniebunni @cipher-ipher @alice630 @jinnies-princess @bangtancultsposts @evrythinghqppened @rebellescauses-blog @juicypebbless @fawnpeaks @the-life-of-stella @lakoya @compersian @seung-mine 

[souliebird]

[[and then I met you || ch. 12||

Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit

Summary:

A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s and Matt realizes he needs to not only protect his new family from Hell's Kitchen, but from the world.

pt: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11

Words: 5k

banner thanks to the wonderful @theradioactivespidergwen

Even in the middle of the night, the heat of summer in Hell's Kitchen is oppressive. It doesn't help that there is a storm rolling in and it is so humid Matt feels like he's breathing in water. Sweat is pouring off of him and he's glad he opted out of wearing his red armor - he has the feeling he would have overheated within an hour.

The only good thing about it pushing eighty degrees at two am is that only people that have to be out are out. Even though it is Saturday night/ Sunday morning, the streets are empty and Matt has only encountered people on their way back home. He hasn't even needed to scare off any muggers or stop any break ins. In fact, all he has really done all night is track people to make sure they got to their destinations safely.

There was a small surge of people around midnight coming off the trains and they had been rowdy, but hadn't caused any problems. Matt quickly worked out they were part of the protesters who have been crowding outside the courthouse for the past few days and deemed they were not a threat to his beloved city.

He's spoken to a few of them while at the courthouse and he fully supports their cause and their right to protest. Admittedly, Matt is not one to stay on top of current events, but he thinks it is suspicious that the government will not reveal what caused the massive explosion in Connecticut. It's been weeks but instead of answers, it feels like everything about the incident is being shoved under the rug and Matt knows if it was closer to home, Karen would be chomping at the bit to investigate.

Over six hundred people lost their lives and no one is being brought to justice for it. They are saying it was an attack, but no one is claiming ownership or being blamed for the destruction. It makes him angry, and though this isn't his fight, he'll do his part protecting the voices in his community who demand the truth.

Tonight, it seems like his community is safe and Matt will be able to get more than two hours of sleep before he needs to go to Mass. He needs to do a final pass around the neighborhood before he turns in for the night, so he pushes himself up from where he has been crouching like a gargoyle and stretches his limbs. His knees pop and his back screams at him and he decides that despite the heat, he will take a scorching shower to soothe his muscles. He may not have gotten into any big fights the past few nights, but that doesn't matter to his body - it's always aching and throbbing in one way or another.

He pulls his mask down over his face, hating how it instantly makes his forehead sticky and wet, and starts his loop.

He starts at the top of 10th and weaves across and down until he passes Foggy and Marci’s apartment. He pauses across the street and crouches down as he tunes his ears to their bedroom. They are both in a deep sleep and there is no threat he can detect, but still he stays for a minute just to be sure. Daredevil may have complicated his best friend's life, but Foggy has never had trouble making his own enemies. He may not be a vigilante, but his sense of justice is just as strong as Matt's and that has caused people to come at him violently. Someone breaking in is not out of the question.

Marci has her own enemies but if anyone ever tries to come after her, well, Matt will pray for their soul because not even he is that self-destructive. She once made a joke about becoming a crime lord and he still has the occasional nightmare over it.

Matt scans the surrounding buildings for any problems once more before he starts off towards Karen's place. She was still awake when he last passed her building and the odds of her still being up are pretty even. He wouldn't be surprised to find her typing away at some article - stirring up the pot as always. He loves her for that personality trait, even if it mentally puts him through the ringer with worry over her - he supposes it is nothing compared to what he does to her.

But luckily, for the collective sanity of Nelson, Murdock, and Page, more people care about Karen's well-being than care about Matt's.

He knows she has Jessica's number on speed dial - letting them meet is one of his greatest regrets in life. He is well aware of the cameras set up by Frank's computer friend and while the Marine is out of town, he's left her with another layer of protection - his dog Max.

Not that Karen can't take care of herself.

If she and Marci teamed up to take over Manhattan, Matt doesn't know if he could stop them.

Maybe he'll tell her that for her birthday - it will make a better gift than anything he'd be able to think of.

Matt lands on the roof of Karen's building, relieved to find she has gone to sleep since he last checked on her. She must have let the dog get in bed with her, because it's snoring is making it hard for him to tune into her without concentration. She's safe and seemingly happy, so he lingers only a moment before resuming the last dredges of his patrol.

He heads down to the docks next. There are people there, but they are meant to be - prepping for the fish markets and early morning cargo ships. These are good, hard working men who don't dabble in things that would make the Devil hunt them. In fact, he's got a good contact in one of the fish mongers, who will let him know if there's been anything suspicious in the wee hours of the morning. He doesn't need to check in now, as there have been no whispers as of late, and he disappears back into the shadows of the city to head towards Clinton Church.

Matt's stomach turns as he gets closer to where he grew up. His feelings about the location and the people there have been a ridiculous rollercoaster since he found out he was a father.

He deeply misses Father Lantom. Despite what everyone has told him, he firmly blames himself for the man's death and does not understand why God made that choice. It hurts that he isn't here and Matt can barely bring himself to go into the church - he's only started to re-attend Mass since learning about Minnie to seek guidance from God about this new path. He'd give anything to be able to speak to the man who mentored him in life - to hear what he would say about Matt having a daughter.

It isn't that Matt dislikes the new priest - he just doesn't like him. He's resistant to change and it should be Father Lantom giving Communion and taking his Confession.

It should be Father Lantom who Baptizes Minnie, not this man Matt has never even spoken with.

Maggie is trying to get Matt to interact with the man, but his relationship with her is going through a rocky patch and he hasn't actually spoken with her in about two weeks. She hasn't done anything wrong - he is just having an internal crisis over how learning he is a parent changed him and his abandonment issues. He's spent a lot of time in reflection and understands why she left him and his father, but he now has a renewed anger at her for not telling him the truth sooner.

Did she not love him like he loves Minnie? Was it something he did wrong?

Will she love Minnie like she loved Matt? He trusts her to care for his daughter, but will she love her granddaughter the way she deserves to be loved?

Everything is made more complicated over how guilty he is over having these feelings and so, instead of talking to his mother, he's been avoiding her. He knows he needs to eventually address it, but for the moment Maggie is none the wiser about his mini-me.

He'll tell her after he tells you about her.

It is something he needs to do still - it just hasn't come up yet. Most of your conversations center around Minnie and you are still getting to know each other. You've shared few stories about your childhood - mostly about school - and Matt isn't so sure how your anxiety will handle Maggie. His mother is a good person, but she is a lot and he knows you have your own parent issues.

Like at the docks, there are people active at the Church. A few homeless patrons are seeking shelter before the rain and there is a nun tending to their needs. The kids are safely tucked into bed, and while it sounds like a few are having nightmares, there is nothing he can do for them at the moment.

If they wake and cry out, he prays their calls are answered.

Matt practically flees the sacred grounds and his anxiety only settles once he crosses into Chelsea.

As he runs, he hones his senses to the apartment building you live in. It is easy for him to lock onto - he's already spent countless hours perched on the boundaries of the two neighborhoods listening to you and Minnie sleep. He knows it is creepy, but he cannot help himself.

Minnie’s laugh is his new favorite sound, and not far behind it is your heartbeat. Much like his daughter, he's found himself focusing on it when things get too much and it is the perfect way to end patrols - winding down while you and Mouse dream.

You mumble in your sleep and it is the most endearing thing he's ever encountered. He likes to respond to your strange statements, imagining he's right there in bed with you. There has been a recurring theme of parrots and he is thinking that the bird exhibit will be off limits during Minnie’s birthday trip to the zoo, based on what he's heard.

But it isn't you mumbling in your apartment tonight - it's Minnie.

His daughter is awake and has moved from the bedroom to the living room. The television is on - playing what he thinks is Sesame Street - and she seems to be fussing with a toy. Context clues tell him she's playing with a doll or stuffed animal - dress up is one of her favorite games and he knows it is one of her Quiet Games.

“Nexts,” she says sweetly to her toy, “we gotta do your make ups.”

Matt decides to wait until he's landed on the roof before he makes her aware of his presence. He kneels and takes a moment to center himself, taking a deep breath to do so. He focuses on calming the Devil in his chest - this is the first time he's caught Minnie awake in the middle of the night and he needs to address it as Matt and not Daredevil.

He doesn't want to scare her, after all. She'll probably be very confused as to why he's there and being scared won't help anything.

“Minnie, sweetheart, can you hear me?” He asks, keeping his voice soft as possible as he does.

To her credit, she doesn't start at all. It takes her a moment to process, but then she questions, “Daddy?”

The name makes his heart soar - everytime she says it, he breaks into the biggest smile. It is the sweetest sound and the fact she switched to calling him that all on her own means the world to him.

She wants him to be her Daddy.

“Yeah, sweetheart, it's me. What are you doing awake?” he questions, smiling as he hears her get up and start to walk around. He wonders if she is looking for him and his guess is confirmed when he hears her start lifting things up to look under them.

“I'm watching Cookie Monsters,” she replies and Matt chuckles. He thinks it is so adorable she is also so direct with her answers. She always answers exactly what is asked.

“I don't think it is time for Cookie Monster, Mouse. I think it's sleep time. Mommy is sleeping.”

You are in a deep sleep, your breathing slow and even. He can tell you've been exhausted lately and probably need the sleep. More than once he's found you awake during his patrols. If Minnie tried to wake you up, you probably weren't responsive and she had left you to sleep.

She peters her way back to in front of the television and plops back down after checking under the dining table. Matt waits for her to respond, knowing sometimes it takes her time to form what she wants to say.

“I can't sleep,” she mumbles, upset clear in her voice, “there's a monster.”

The Devil flares up inside of him and he instantly scans the area for a threat. There are few people awake in the area and he focuses in on them - none of them appear to be any sort of danger to his daughter. At the moment.

But they could have been earlier. They could have woken her up by doing something horrible. A mugging. Domestic violence. Something worse.

He curls his lip into a snarl.

He'll find whoever upset his daughter and drive them from his city. The state.

It's a miracle he manages to keep his voice calm and gentle, “A monster?”

“A monster,” she confirms sadly. Her breathing becomes muffled and Matt figures she has shoved her hand into her mouth to self-comfort.

“Can you tell Daddy about the monster?”

She sucks on her fingers and with her free hand, pulls her toy into her lap. He wants to push her to tell him, but he knows he can't. She's not a witness or a suspect - she's his daughter trying her best. He can tell she wants to answer, he just needs to be patient.

“He ran really fast,” Minnie starts to say, barely taking her hand out of her mouth to do so, “and went eek-eek-eek and smelled like poopy-butt.”

The words baffle him and Matt knits his brows - this monster was close enough for Minnie to smell him? The monster in his chest snarls and he has to fight to keep his composure. He knows Minnie is locked onto him and if he lets his rage show, she will know and she will get scared.

He needs to protect his daughter. He needs to believe God will not test him in this.

“Minnie, sweetie, can you tell Daddy where the monster is?”

Her little head turns up to face exactly where he is standing, asking in a small voice, “are you gonna fight him?”

The Devil roars ‘yes’, but the Father in him says, “Do you want me to?”

“Mommy scares him away,” she advises hesitantly. He can practically feel the nerves radiating off of her and it makes him clench his fist.

Matt doesn't understand. This has happened before?

Then it beams him in the head like a baseball and Matt feels like a complete idiot.

Minnie is a toddler. Her monsters are shadows, creaky pipes, and the four legged creatures in the city. Those are things that no longer register on Matt's radar but she hasn't learned to tune them out yet. Of course she would be scared of those things - Matt was scared of those things when he first got his senses and he was much older than Minnie at the time.

He remembers his first phone call with you and how it ended - something about Monster Repellent.

“I can go scare off the monster - would you like that?” he asks, the Devil in him settling down now that he knows no one is trying to hurt his little girl.

He doesn't know if it's Minnie sensing his shift in mood or if she didn't want him to fight the monster and scaring it away is what she wants, but she untenses her shoulders and her hand comes out of her mouth.

“You'll scare him away?” She asks after hugging her toy right to her chest.

“I'll scare him away,” he quickly promises.

“He smells like poopy-butt,” she repeats and Matt wonders if she is making a stinky face. That is something you tell him he and Minnie share - a certain curl of their lips when they find something unappealing.

“That's okay, sweetie, I'll make him go smell bad somewhere else. He won't bother you,” he says. “Can you tell me where he went and I'll go chase him away.”

Finally, she points down towards the alleyway between her building and the neighboring one and adds, “He can climb walls. Like Spidey-Man.”

Matt resists the urge to huff over the mention of the other vigilante. He has met the kid twice before and his biggest take, besides it was a kid under the mask and that had been its own thing, was that he needed to learn how to throw a proper punch. It confirmed for him all that Avengers training and showboating really meant nothing and they really were better off fighting aliens and wizards than helping out real people.

“Don't worry, Mouse, I can climb the walls, too.” He's definitely letting his Pride show through, but if he can't show off for his daughter, who can he show off for?

He makes a quick map in his head, then goes to the edge of the roof. Minnie’s head is still angled up towards him and she ‘watches’ as he parkours down to street level. If he adds a few unnecessary flips, well, that is no one's business but his own.

Once he is on the pavement, he opens his senses to the things he normally blocks out. The city becomes far more lively around him - cats, raccoons, birds, dogs, all sorts of bugs and things he doesn't like to think about. There's yowling and chirps and suddenly so much more movement, most of it under his feet.

Mouse’s monster is easy to find. It is a disgustingly large rat that has built a nest of trash and grime under a dumpster. The thing has a respiratory infection, which has it wheezing and rattling and he very much understands why Minnie was scared of it. It is not a pleasant sound and the infection is not at all helping how the creature smells. Animals smell at the best of times, but this rat clearly enjoys the sewers and ‘poopy-butt’ doesn't begin to cover how rancid it is.

Matt starts to work out what he needs to do to make sure this sick rodent stays far away from his family. If it has a nest, it will come back, so he needs to destroy that - without damaging the animal. He doesn't have the heart to actually hurt the thing.

He pulls out his billy clubs and snaps them together to make a bo staff, then moves to crouch in front of the dumpster. “Okay, sir, I'm here to evict you,” he says, more for Minnie’s benefit than anything. “You gotta go.”

He jabs at the nest of wet cardboard and almost immediately, the rat scurries out and hisses at him. It snaps its jaws at him a few times instead of running away and Matt huffs at the display, turning his staff towards the creature and swatting at it. “Get out of here.” To its credit, it tries to fight him, biting at his billy clubs and screeching at him, but after a few good thwacks to its side, it realizes it has no chance against him and dashes toward a nearby grate.

He listens to it go down into some pipes and once it's out of range, he tilts his head up towards Minnie, a smile starting to form in his lips, “The monster has been vanquished, my princess.”

His words make her giggle and he can't help but chuckle as well. He hears her push up into standing and she toddles towards the window. There's a table in front of it, so he knows she can't see out of it, but he knows she's trying to find him.

“He's not gonna come back?” She questions and in response he starts to break up the nest. He spreads the trash around, knocking things down and away. It's not a big very big rat den, relying heavily on the dumpster.

“He's not, he's gonna go find a new home,” he promises as he works, and once he's satisfied with his destruction, he collapses his billy clubs and holsters them. He pushes up into standing and steps away from the trash can.

“Far away?” Minnie asks and his heart breaks for her. The stupid animal must have terrified her.

“Very, very far away.”

He locates the fire escape and starts to scale it back up to your apartment floor. As he does, he starts closing off his senses again. Things begin to fade into the background - the things he will need to start teaching Minnie. She's got a good handle on it already, having learned to function with it instead of needing to adapt.

He's so proud. So unbelievably proud.

She's such a good and pure child. She always wants to help and asks about other people. She may be shy, but she's empathetic.

You've taught her well.

Matt understands how Minnie is a mini-him in her abilities and mannerisms due to those abilities, but her sweet nature is from you.

He knows he's gone for you.

Foggy has pointed it out. Karen has pointed it out. God has smacked him in the face with signs.

His realization moment was hearing a man purchasing an engagement ring for a woman who shared your name. He had gotten so furiously jealous he had to go take it out on the punching bag.

Foggy laughed so hard at him.

He doesn't think you noticed at all. It is nothing against you, he completely understands. You are like him - you don't think you deserve love. You had been painfully shy your first night together, as well, and he had been charmed by it.

He's angry at himself for letting you be a one night stand.

He should have been there when you needed him most.

He's not going to fuck that up again.

He pulls off his mask before making a show off popping up in front of your window and Minnie dissolves into giggles.

“Hi, Daddy!” She waves at him and he can tell she is absolutely beaming. He eagerly waves back and he knows he's matching her smile.

“Hi, Mouse.”

“Why are you outside?”

He's planned for this. He has discussed this with Foggy and Karen at length. He did the unthinkable - he asked Frank - who apparently knew who Minnie was before either Foggy or Karen did. They had attacked the question from all sides. As the firm. As friends. As parents.

They couldn't lie to Minnie. Matt can see the signs she's picking up on what different heart beats mean. She's going to know and there's nothing they can do to hide it. She can hear all of Hell’s Kitchen just as well as he can. It may not happen until she's older, but she'll figure it out.

So, he's not going to lie to her. He thinks you would approve. You don't like lying to her - you soften the truth into something she can comprehend. He's going to follow your lead.

“I'm working,” Matt answers, crouching on the rails and resting his wrists on his knees. He's suddenly very glad he had a very boring night. “What are you doing inside?”

Mouse accepts the answer and hugs her toy to her chest, swaying side to side “I'm talking to you.”

He laughs at her utter sweetness. She giggles along with him.

He gives a fond shake of his lead, then leans forward so she can see him a bit better, “What should you be doing, sweetheart?”

She scrunches up her face as she thinks, then she falls into a pout, “Sleeping.”

“Yeah, you should be sleeping. You're going to be tired tomorrow. It's not going to be fun,” he gently warns. He knows it isn't her fault, but he knows it will eventually help her learn to push those noises to the background.

“Okay, I'll go bed. I gotta clean up first. Mommy says …Mommy says don't leave it until morning. You'll make morning you sad. Be nice to morning you,” she recites, patting her hands against her stuffed animal - it's not Scooby or Pig. (He doesn't know this one. His best guess is it's a Raggedy-Anne type princess doll. His little girl loves princesses - no specific one, just the concept and aesthetic.)

He loves the values you are instilling in her. He's going to steal this mantra and tell it to Foggy and Karen.

“Okay. I'll keep watch for any monsters,” he tells her. This is one of the reasons he wants her to know the truth. He wants her to know her Daddy will protect her from all of the monsters.

“Okay. Thank you. Love you!” She chants, then turns away.

“I love you, too, Mouse. So much.”

And he will tell her every chance he gets.

She carefully walks back to where she had been sitting and turns off the television, then goes to put her toys away. Like always, she's very methodical about what she does. He could spend hours watching her play. She fascinates him. She picks up one toy at a time and tells it good night as she puts it back into her toy chest.

She doesn't have much to clean up and when she finishes, she turns to face him.

“Will you tuck me in? Please? Thank you?” Minnie asks like he can say no.

“Of course, my love. Are you all ready for bed?” He questions as he hops down onto the fire escape - one of the screws holding it together shakes and he decides he'll come back another night with a wrench to tighten everything up.

“All ready!” she confirms and he can tell she's watching him with great curiosity.

He begins to run his fingers over the edges of the window, searching for a way in. You certainly don't make it easy - you invested in apartment security and it takes him a moment to disable it. He's careful as he slides the window up and pops out the screen. He slips into the apartment, then quickly closes the window behind him, leaving the screen on the floor.

Minnie has the decency to wait until that moment to run to him with open arms. Matt scoops her up, swinging her a little before putting her on his hip and once she is settled, he leans down to press his forehead to hers.

“We have to be quiet, okay? We can't wake up, Mommy,” he tells her and she quickly nods in understanding.

He doesn't know what he'll do if you wake up and find him in your home - but luckily you are still in a deep sleep. As long as Minnie keeps calm, you should stay lost in Dreamland.

He kisses her forehead then starts towards the bedroom. She returns the affection, planting a big kiss on his cheek before she gently smacks him in the face with her doll with a quiet, “mwah!” Then, she flops against his shoulder, using him as a pillow.

He has to fight back a pleased huff - his little angel is so sweet. He'll never get sick of getting kisses from her toys - it's so loving and innocent and he is greedy for any and all affection.

Your bedroom is a good twenty degrees cooler than the rest of the apartment - there's a fan going and accompanying it is a little window unit blowing in cold air. It feels like Heaven in the blistering heat that is the rest of the city. The chill seems to suck the consciousness from Mouse - she gives a big dramatic yawn, smacking her lips against his neck. Her body slumps into him and he rubs her back encouragingly.

He crosses the room carefully, hyper aware of any toys that may have found their way to the floor post-bedtime. It absolutely breaks his heart to have to pull her away from him and she does try to stay clinging to him - not fighting him just resistant - but she ends up in her bed and under her covers. He doesn't know if he would have had the strength to force her to let go if she really did want to stay in his arms.

He helps her adjust her sleeping headband so it is around her eyes and ears, then kisses her cheek one final time, “ready for sleep?”

The response is a barely there nod and Matt can't help but feel so much love for his daughter. Being able to conk right out as soon as she's comfortable shows how much she trusts him. His little girl is always so wary and subtly alert.

He's going to cherish this moment forever.

“Love you, Mouse.” He whispers.

“Luvo, Daffy,” is what it sounds like she says as she rolls to bury her face into her pillow. A moment later she is snoring.

Matt allows a few tears to fall before wiping them away and turning his attention to you. You have nested yourself under your blankets, breath hitching every so often. He's learned over time from various people this usually means bad dreams - not nightmares but things that can leave you shaken.

He doesn't dare move closer to try to soothe you with touch - that would certainly wake you up.

Instead, he promises, “I'll chase all your monsters away, too.”

tags:

@midnightreids @cloudroomblog @yeonalie @thychuvaluswife 

 @petrovafire39 @allllium

@dorothleah @mattmurdocksstarlight @mars-on-vinyl @mywellspringoflife @sleepdeprived-barelyalive @simmilarly @soupyspence @darkened-writer @akila-twt

@murc0ckmurc0ck @groovycass @sumo-b98 @just3rowsing @tongueofcat @zoom1374

@theclassicvinyldragon @aoi-targaryen @lunaticgurly @nikitawolfxo @shireentapestry @snakevyro @yondiii @echos-muses @honeybug-victoria @the-bisaster @ristare @mrs-bellingham @eugene-emt-roe @cometenthusiast @stevenknightmarc @hunnybelha @

Specialagentjackbauer @yarrystyleeza @ofmusesandsecrets 

@mayp11-blog @danzer8705 @thinking-at-dusk @remuslupinwifee @akila-twt  @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @dil3mma @allllium 

@

two-unbeatable-beaters @kiwwia-wiwwia @1988-fiend @xblueriddlex @loves0phelia @ninacotte @lovelyygirl8 @littlenosoul @ednaaa-04  @ astridstark13

 @lovingkryptonitehideout @moongirlgodness @soocore @bluestuesday

[sturniolosdeer]

Never home - C. Sturniolo.

In which... you start feeling bad about body. you see all these pretty influencers and models who look perfect. Chris is slowly drifting away from your relationship. you think it's your fault but really it's just work..

Warnings... Angst, angerissuses!chris, body dismorphia, argument, use of y/n, etc.. I don't know what else.

Fiah speaking... Hellooo! I haven't made a fic in a while, so sorry if this is bad, lol. I wanna make this a series, though....

so, this got more votes for it to be a series so yeah it's gonna be a series

───────────────────────────────────────

You were currently sitting in bed, on your phone, scrolling through your feed, seeing all these gorgeous girls you cold look like. You looked at the time, 9:35, Chris wouldn't come home for a couple more hours. He's always working on ideas or filming for he and his brothers' channels. You wished maybe he could take a few days off or something. You then just got up off bed and decided to get ready for bed. You set your phone down to charge and walked to your shared bathroom. You turn the shower on warm water and undress yourself. You then turned to look at the mirror.. "God, why do I look so disgusting.." You mumble softly. You set your hands on your belly, why couldn't you be skinny like those models..?

You groan in annoyance and just get into the shower, you feel the droplets of water fall down your chest and belly. You grab your loofah and add some of your favorite scent of body wash to it, Shea butter, You then start to exfoliate your skin. After washing your body, you get some shampoo and conditioner and scrub it into your hair. After just standing in the shower for a while, you decide to get out, grab your grey towel, and wrap it around your body. You then do everything like do skincare, brush your teeth, etc.

You get out and walk back into the bedroom and to the closet. You walk into the walk-in closet and grab a black tank top and matching shorts. You get dressed and brush your hair, you dry it, then walk back to the bed. You turn the side table lamps off and lay in bed. You get into the big comfy blanket and snuggle into it. At this point, it was almost 11 pm, and you heard the door downstairs open Chris was home. You could hear his footsteps walk up the stairs. The house was silent as he walked through the bedroom door. You pretend to sleep, so chris didn't say or do anything. He sees your figure "sleeping" and just undresses and stays in his tank top and boxers as he slips into bed.

He's had a hard few weeks with his brothers filming, he's exhausted. He sleeps on his side of the bed, inches of space the two you, hes been a bit more distant and cold around you. You wanted his touch. You wanted his cuddles. You needed him to hold you in his arms. You then hear his breathing and little snores, you turned to face him, he was already asleep. God he looked so adorable, you just sigh and close your eyes, you then start to fall asleep with the teddy bear Chris got you guys in your first date.

morning.

It was 7 am, On a Saturday morning. You were still asleep but you could feel and hear Chris stirring awake. You decided to also wake up since you rarely ever see him in the mornings. Your eyes flutter open and you two make eye contact. "G'mornin." He mumbles tiredly as he got up off bed, "good mornin baby.." you say softly with a smile, you just now noticed you guys talked for the first time in days since he wakes up early and comes home late. "Youre leaving right now..? It's so early and I thought you filmed yesterday.." you say a with a bit of disappointment in your face. "Yeah.. me, Matt and Nick gotta come up with ideas, run some errands and some meetings. We've been busy, you know that." He says a bit coldly.

"Oh, sorry.. you're just never home.." You say quietly, "Well obviously y/n. I'm never home so I can build our future. Now let me be. I gotta go soon, or I'll be late, damnnit." He mutters, looking for his keys. You bit your lip, not wanting to break down. You get up and go downstairs to at least make him something to eat. You get to the kitchen and make him a quick breakfast sandwich.

You grab the loaf of bread that was on the counter, eggs, sausage, and cheese. You make the sandwich and heat it quickly in the oven. You put it on a plate and set it on the counter for him to grab when he leaves. You sigh, you wish he was here more. You go and sit in the living room and just watch some TV as you cuddled on the couch. You hear his footsteps walking down the stairs, you look to see him grabbing the sandwhich, "This is f'me, right?" He asked, you just nod and don't say a word. He shrugs and just leave the house without saying goodbye.

───────────────────────────────────────

Hihihihi I dunno if this is good or not. I hope you guys like this, but I feel like I used "you" to much and added like a bit too much details

Bye for now my pretty people.

[rintoorou]

ALOHA, HAWAII — ix. old habits

(wc: 870-ish)

you’re wide awake and your head is spinning. 

you’ve been in meetings since the afternoon, only peeling away from your computer screen to refill your mug with water or tea. you were so engrossed in your work that the last bits of food you had were lunch—almost 11 hours ago. only the bar was open at this hour, but you’ll take what you can get. 

after shutting off your computer, you pocket your room keys in your sweats and step out. 

the moon casts a faint glow on your path, creating ambiguous, eerie shadows. the summer air is warm on your skin, but shivers run down your spine when you hear a twig snap from your side. gradually, you pick up your pace and clutch your keys tighter, feeling the cool metal dig into your palm. 

you continue walking for a minute until the crickets suddenly go silent. 

your shoes skid to a halt. paranoia slowly creeps up on you as you scan your surroundings, looking between the trees and in the dark corners of the street, like someone’s watching you. 

hesitantly, you take a step forward, and another, and another, still keeping your eyes trained anywhere except the pavement in front of you. your heartbeat echoes in your chest the more your imagination runs wild—a ghost? a serial killer? one of those creepy guys from the fifth floor you and kenma secretly hate? no, you can handle the last two, but not a ghost. you’re starting to regret watching incantation with kenma the night before your flight. 

you’re too lost in thought to notice the person a few feet before you, who is also completely unaware of your incoming presence. 

it only takes a couple of steps until you collide, causing a frightened scream to slip past your lips and his phone to slip from his grasp. 

“jesus, (—). are you okay?”

“suna,” you breathe out before your initial shock is overcome by frustration, “make a sound, will you?! god.” 

suna raises an eyebrow, lips twitching to hide his amusement at your spooked state. you notice, but it doesn’t seem to annoy you. he bends down to pick up his phone, his movements slow and deliberate, before he slips his hands into his pockets. curiosity laces his tone when he asks, “what are you doing out at this hour?”

you ignore the way your heart skips a beat under his gaze. “i was going to grab a snack,” you tell him, blinking more times than necessary.

“from the bar?” suna hums, humor mixed with concern.

“yes,” you assert, “from the bar.” a smile threatens to spread upon suna's lips but he holds back. why are you lying about something as small as this? 

ah, he then remembers kiyoomi mentioning that you’d be caught up in meetings at work for almost the entire day, explaining why you two didn't have to do anything regarding wedding preparations. if he knew you, he’d recall how much of a workaholic you were years ago; how easily you’d get swept up in your work trying to make it as perfect as possible, only filling your system with tea or coffee and all other sorts of caffeine. but it’s hard not to know you—not to forget—when sneaking in both of your lunches inside the study hall practically became a part of his college routine. or how he’d add two packs of dark chocolate to his basket, along with his fruit jelly sticks, when finals were approaching. or how he started filling his training bottle with the blue gatorade you liked instead of his usual purple one so that when you'd ask for a drink, he could hear you gush about how similar your tastes are. and if he knew you, he’d remember how you held your pride over even the tiniest of things, such as admitting whether you’ve had dinner or not. he remembers how adorable or frustrating your stubborn pride could get. 

all these thoughts rush into him in a second like they were his own instincts, a second skin. 

so without another thought, he suggests, “do you wanna head out instead? i heard there’s this night cafe just fifteen minutes away.”

he's hoping you’d say yes—he can admit that to himself. however, what he can’t acknowledge is that, somewhere deep down, you’re still dear to him in more ways than one. 

he sees an ounce of hesitation in your eyes, and he thinks he might have pushed a little too much. maybe you still hated him despite agreeing to keep things civil between you. 

“sure,” you tell him, a softness lingering in your eyes that he couldn’t quite decipher, “lead the way.” 

suna couldn't control the pleased smile that formed on his lips. he cocks his head to the side, motioning for you to follow him before he pulls out his phone from his pocket. perhaps it's a shame that he doesn't notice the light blush that dusts on your cheeks as you trail behind him. 

in the cafe, you sit across from suna, doing your best to appear casual. but even as he eases you into another conversation, you push back the familiar feeling you recognize a few years back. 

prev — masterlist — next

notes kind of a filler chapter (?) bc i’m torn between making this slowburn or nawt lolz but i wanted to give an insight into how their relationship was before! (the lyrics of summer, night is sooo fitting for this chap) also.. sakuatsu & sunayn parallelism kinda ??? 🫣

tags @ilyless @strxwberri-s @bbybibi @milesmoralesluvs @hanniemylovelyquokka @nbcvs @crispchocolates @cnnmairoll @trash-master-3000 @tojirin @ryuverse @megumiif @chemiru @theycallmenanamisgirl @neoclb @krissiekris @nyxlai @tsukiran @frvppe @le000xxgrd @kr1nqu @kunihaver @toges-cough-syrup @myromanempiree @baskin-robinhoods @jeongintwt @itsdragonius @moucheslove @ichcocat @miiyas @samuel1004 @reignsaway @sonicsolos @httpshoyo @walllflowerrrsss @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @wolffmaiden @diorzs @zumicho @riabriyn @hqtoge @unhinged-atrocities @t8tiana @deluluforcarlos55 @kissingkzuha @mfcherry @tamimemo @geniejunn @peehall @h3xi2g0n3 @gsyche @meguemii @savemebrazilhinata

[http-tokki]

need to know

~ choso kamo x fem!reader (tattoo artist choso au) ~tags/cw: tattoo artist choso, fem reader, tattoo artist au, tattoos, needles, satosugu is canon, modern au, choso has a scar over his nose instead of his markings, strangers to friend to lovers (strangers rn) tiny lil man verbal bashing cause men are weak lil babies when getting tattoos, reader is a lil chubby, choso is on antidepressants, smoking/vaping, drinking ~ wc: 2.9k ~ "Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?"

You: Wednesday 8:45pm Hi, I was just wondering if your books were still open? It says they are in your bio but in case I've missed it and they're closed, please ignore this message, sorry! :)

Kamo: Wednesday 9:23pm Hey. No, they are still open. When were you looking to book? Do you have a specific design? Or are you looking for a flash?

 

You: Thursday 11:36am Oh, hi, awesome! Thank you for getting back to me so quickly! I was looking to book next month, towards the end. On a weekend if that would be possible (I don't mind the time), and for the design, just a flash (design 3A) on your latest post on my upper arm, around 15-20cm. :)

You: Thursday 11:52pm Unless you think it should be smaller or somewhere else, I'm not picky! I really want something of yours tattooed on me :)

 Kamo: Thursday 12:15pm Sure, no problem! I have the 24th free at 12pm. Does that work for you? The spot and size are fine, but I'll make up smaller and bigger stencils on the day in case you change your mind. The total would be $600 for the piece. However, I require a $100 deposit to secure your spot. I can send you the payment details once you confirm your interest. Please read through my FAQs on cancellation policies and further information.

You: Thursday 12:20pm 24th at 12pm is perfect! Thank you!! I'll send a deposit through now! Ahh, so excited! :)

 

Kamo: Thursday 1:07pm You're welcome. Here is the link x. Please send a screenshot of your payment as proof. For the rest of the amount, I accept cash only. If you have any other questions, feel free to message me. See you on the 24th.

You: Thursday 3:30pm Sending it now! Yay! Thank you so much! Super excited, see you! :)

Kamo: Thursday 4:35 pm Seen 

--

 "I sound like an idiot, don't I?" you grumble as your friend reads over your chat with a tattoo artist.

You watch your friend tilt their glasses down, squinting at the screen as their mouth curls into a grimace. They try to hide it with a sniffle, disguising their obvious disgust over your intense enthusiasm.

"Not an idiot," they hand the phone back to you, a frown set in the crooked way it always did when they were uncomfortable. "Just really, really eager, which can be cute if you like that."

--

Choso is growing tired. 

At what? There are too many contributing factors to the headache that had begun blooming his eyes five minutes after stepping into the studio to pinpoint the main culprit of his budding exhaustion. Maybe it was the late night/early morning combo, or perhaps it was the horrific lack of water and food he hadn't consumed in the last twenty-four hours. When was the last time he had taken his medication? Choso begins to run through the previous days in an attempt to remember when he had even glanced at the Zoloft sheet sitting in the bottom drawer of his trolley, but his attention is diverted from his lack of self-care to the man sitting in his tattoo chair. 

It is coming up on the two-hour mark since his client walked in. With a brazen attitude that could rival a Greek god, the man had outlined what had to be the simplest fucking tattoo known to man. Choso had rolled his eyes at the frankly impressive and thorough drawing done by the twenty-something gym bro before shifting the paper off to his younger brother. 

"Come on, it's easy! An hour tops, and then you've got like two fifty in your hand! You technically owe me an observation session, and this can be it." Yuji had gripped his brother's sleeve, tugging on it the way he used to when they were kids. 

Taking in his younger half-brother as his apprentice was a good idea in theory. The two lived and worked together, so there was ample time for obvs and practice, but today was already busy, and Choso was feeling like complete and utter shit. 

"Yuji, I don't want to do this. I have a client coming in at twelve for a full session, and I've got this headache and-"

"It's easy money, come on! Please." it technically was easy money. The design was a small band wrapped around the bicep, with no adornments or script, just a flat black line; it was the client himself that made Choso apprehensive. 

"Fine." Choso sighed, and Yuji almost jumped into the air in excitement. "You prep and clean him; I'm not doing anything but the actual tattoo." 

Yuji nodded eagerly and just about ran into the front room to confirm the walk-in appointment. 

That was almost two hours ago, and Choso is still here, finishing up the outlines of the band on a guy twice his size but carrying on like a toddler. Each touch of the needle on skin had the man flinching and hissing through his teeth, and there is only so much Choso could take. 

Choso eyes the clock nervously, his next appointment slot ticking closer but the second. There isn't going to be enough time to get out and grab a coffee or snack from the corner store. After another quick glance at the amount of work before him, Choso calls it fifteen minutes to twelve and clicks off the tattoo gun with a disappointed sigh.

 "Hey, I'm sorry, but we might have to split this into two sessions." 

He looks back over at this current client, who is sweating profusely. It takes everything in him to scowl in disgust at the once brazen man before him, but not the look on his client's face; Choso knows some form of repugnance had slipped through his composure. 

 "Yeah, sure, man, no sweat," the client replies, relief blatant in his sigh. "Sorry for taking so many breaks. I've got a weak pain tolerance."

That makes Choso feel a little bad.

"You're fine. I've just got a pre-booked client coming in like ten and need to set up." A little lie to hurry the man up. 

Hope is so close. So attainable that Choso can almost feel the sun on his face, but the shop bells slice through any dream of a break. 

"Hi, I'm here for my twelve with Kamo?" 

Choso slouches, attention now on the conversation happening in the front room. It's not even twelve yet! Why would she be here so early? 

"Yep! We've got you down for twelve, but Choso's still with someone, so if you wanna wait here, that's okay!" Yuji giggles in response. 

"Ohh, I'm just here to ask if umm…Choso wanted a coffee or anything?" his name is a question on her tongue. "I'm going to go get one and wanted to ask if anyone wanted anything so you don't have to wait in line." 

That's nice. Choso thinks and leans back on his chair, attempting to glimpse his new client, who has Yuji giggling at every word. 

"I was just about to step out to get coffee so I can come with you, but I can get Cho's; you don't need to pay for him." Another giggle. God, his younger brother is shameless. 

"That's okay! I can get them; just write your orders down so I don't forget!" the girl insists.  

"Ohh, but-"disappointment fills Yuji's voice. 

"Yuji, can you come here please!" Choso shouts down the hall, pulling his brother away from his new crush. 

Yuji groans, then the shop bells ring again, and then the sound of footsteps shuffles down the hall. 

"Yes?" 

"Can you wrap him up and finish the payment? I need a smoke." Choso rolled back from the bed, handing over the second skin he has yet to unwrap. 

Choso's brother sighs but offers the male client a friendly smile, sits down in the now vacant rollaway stool, and begins to prep the skin for wrap-up.

"I'll be back in five; if anyone needs me, tell them to wait." Choso grumbles the last part and offers a stiff wave to his current client before disappearing into the hall. 

 The knots in Choso's shoulder have been building for days now, and no amount of rolling or stretching seems to relieve the tension in his muscles, but it is nice to stretch and feel the blood move around him again. Heavy boots echo through the small shop as he stalks to the front desk, floorboards creaking under the weight of thick rubber soles. His fingers slip into his back pocket to reach for the small pack of menthols hastily shoved down after the abrupt end of his morning break. 

Stepping out into the world, Choso is blinded by the sun. Having forgotten about the passage of time while being stuck indoors all day, he now stands stunned in the small alcove of the shop's entrance. The sun nears the centre of the sky, beating down the world in a heat never seen before. It wasn't even the beginning of summer, and the sweltering days were breaking temperature records. Choso shields his eyes with a hand, and even then, his vision is blurred as his retinas adjust. 

The street is quiet; an abnormal silence had fallen over the usually busy road, but with the rising blistering temps, he suspects people aren't willing to brave the heat to shop or eat. Choso finds the familiar recess in the wall, a door had been there years ago but has long since been boarded up and now acts as refuge for him and his brother. Through any weather, time of day or season, the small alcove is a sanctuary for tired and burnt-out artists needing a second away from the constant buzz of tattoo guns. 

Choso scans the few open cafes and bars for his mystery client. Mainly office workers on lunch break and mothers with strollers waiting for the afternoon pick up; he can't see anyone that fits the image he had concocted in his mind on the short walk over until he spots a girl standing in line across the way. The tattoos that adorn her legs are what Choso notices first. Patchwork pieces from different artists in black and white with pops of colour here and there, but for the most part are monochromatic, all spaced far enough to be their own pieces but not so much that they seem gap-y. He is impressed at the choice, knowing that when getting patchwork pieces, they are usually slapped in any available location, but from what he can see, every piece flowed into each other and told a story against her skin. Her arms are equally as covered, though with more room, and he is eager to see the works up close. A flash of pink catches his attention, and he narrows his attention on the pink My Melody backpack that she swings at her side, pink wallet clutched in her free hand as she shifts her weight from her toes to her heels. Choso smirks at the bag and finds himself willing her to turn so he can see the face of the girl who we had been staring at for the past five minutes. 

He is staring and he needs to stop before he gets caught. Shifting his attention from the random woman, he fishes out his phone and focuses on the seemingly endless DMs and texts stacked on the lock screen. Sometimes, he wonders if he really should have gone into a career where his livelihood relied on communicating with strangers. With expert precision and one hand, he pulls a cigarette from the crumpled packet and slips the filter between his teeth. Biting down the filter, the taste of menthol fills his mouth, and relief floods his veins before settling in the deep groves of his brain. The cigarette isn't even lit yet, but his nervous system knows that the taste of mint will soon be followed by nicotine, and all will be well for a few minutes. Breaking the habit of smoking has been on Choso's New Year's resolution lists for the past three years, but he only ever lasts a few weeks before turning back to the comfort of those overpriced joints. Maybe next year will be the year. Choso digs through his pockets, fingers grasping for the lighter he keeps in his right pant pocket, but there is nothing. Maybe the other side? Still nothing. Third pocket? Fourth pocket? Nada. Zilch. Zero. Fuck. 

There isn't enough time to go back inside to search for matches, and he had already popped the filter and doesn't want to waste the smoke, but it would get gross sitting in the packet- his headache grew. 

"Choso?" a soft voice asks from above.

Choso looks up from his lap and is greeted by the most stunning woman he has ever seen. Breathing is no longer automatic as he stares at you, and when his lungs start to contract almost painfully, he realises and takes in an all too obvious breath.

It wasn't fair to look like that. With the sun illuminating your silhouette, cradling you in an angelic aura that has Choso debating on whether he should get on his knees and pray to you, but too much time has passed since you spoke and he acknowledged you that he has to say something, but all he can manage is a muffled yeah?

"I'm your twelve, but you look like you need a light?" you hold out a bright pink light between pretty pink manicured fingers. 

Choso offers a tight-lipped smile to prevent the cigarette from falling from his mouth and takes the lighter, flicking it to life. "Thanks, I owe ya."

He holds the flame to the tobacco, and only when it glows bright does he pull the disposable away.

"It didn't cost me anything, so nothing to owe."

There is a beat of silence as you throw the light back into your bag before bending down to pick up the coffee you had set at your feet. "Also, a coffee." another offer towards him. 

"The guy at the desk gave me your order, and I always buy my artists something before a session. I'm not hitting on you."

Your admission of this not being a move stirs something in him. Choso accepts the cold cup with a soft thank you, angling his hand away from yours, careful not to burn you with the lit smoke.

 "I'll meet you inside. Give you a moment to yourself." you nod towards the door of the studio, feet already turning to start walking towards the entrance. 

He watches you walk away, a smile creeping on his face despite not knowing why. You're as cute from the front as you are from the back, and he's glad the girl he had seen in the coffee shop is you. Soft curves make up your figure, dipping at your waist before filling out again over your bust. Choso feels his stomach twist in that familiar feeling, but he can't think of you like that; you're a client and nothing more. There is a mesmerising way in which you walk that has Choso unable to look away, and even when you've stepped into the studio, his gaze lingers on the empty space you once stood in until the rancid taste of burnt filter fills his mouth. Never in his life has he been as thankful for coffee as he is in that moment when burnt paper fills his senses. Taking a big gulp of the sweet but still bitter drink, it takes everything in him not to spit in the street, but he was raised better than that and will wait until he is in the small bathroom to spit up the gross contents.

 --

 When Choso returns, you are sitting on the small couch in the waiting room, filling out consent forms. Head down as you read the number of your ID and scribe it down in the open line; he walks past you, suddenly horrified by his heavy choice of shoe. The thick thud of the rubber soles on the hardwood has you lifting your head and smiling at your artist. Choso feels his stomach flip.

"So," Choso starts, but the smoke still in his throat chokes the word. He clears his throat and restarts his sentence. "So, do you smoke, or do you just carry the lighter?"

"My best friend smokes, so I just carry it 'cause you never know when you're gonna need a light." Your laugh is contained, almost forced, as if the interaction you are having is uncomfortable for you. Had he done something wrong?

"Ohh." Is his only reply as you return to the balanced folder on your lap.

Another moment of silence before Choso steps towards the hall. "I'll let Yuji check you in, and then just come in when you're ready." Had he already made you that uncomfortable in the two minutes you had spoken outside? Choso takes a deep breath as he steps into his space and suddenly wishes the whiney baby was the one getting tattooed.

--

You: Saturday 12:05pm Dude, he is so fucking hot. I wasn't expecting him to look like that!! What do I do?!! Help?!?

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:06pm suck his dick? ik guys like that :P 

You: Saturday 12:06pm Idk what I expected from you. I need actual advice, please Saturo. U owe me!

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:07pm ooh first name, you're kinda scary. Okay, here is what you do. You act like a normal human and then flirt a lil and suss out if he's into it and then ask him out to drinks?

You: Saturday 12:08pm That works if I KNEW HOW TO FLIRT. Ugh im screwed, he's so fine fuck

Number ONE best friend: Saturday 12:09pm eww, you're getting ur jizz all over the screen. just breathe and be normal okay, pretend he's me.

You: Saturday 12:10pm  Ignoring the first comment. Im gonna sneak a pic and show u BRO YOU NEED TO SEE HIM

Number ONE best friend: 12:10pm creepy but okeeeeyyy. Sugu also says to breathe and be normal but to ignore anything you think I would do

You: Saturday 12:11pm Thanks, Suguru, please kill him for me, ill talk to u guys in a bit

Number ONE best friend:  good luck bestie 8======D

a/n: okay so there is going to be a part two but I'm not sure when, please give me feedback if you want it or want me to stop, put the laptop down and go outside lmao lil texting format, lemme know how y'all feel about that

[moonstarrr]

𝐘𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐋𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐀𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐖𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐥𝐞 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐤𝐬. 𝐇𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐟𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐚 𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐬

𝐄𝐝𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐱 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐃𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐦𝐞𝐫: 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝐨𝐧 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐡𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐛𝐥𝐨𝐠𝐬 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 :)

It was around 7:45 at night and you had just given Christopher a bath. You helped him get changed into some PJS and get ready to tuck him in. You pull the blanket over him slightly and sit down at the end of his bed.

“Okay love, what bedtime story would you like me to tell you tonight”you say while smiling at him and ruffling up his hair which got a slight squeal out of him.

“Mom you know we have to wait for dad” He says while smiling . You already knows that’s impossible especially with the hour Eddie has been coming home and Christopher will already be asleep because he has school.

“Oh I know buddy but your gonna have to make do with your momma tonight because dads coming home late tonight” you say with a sigh and a smile. However Christopher looked a tad bit sad but he still wanted his story . He chose a story about dinosaurs but halfway through the story he was already off to sleep. You take his glasses off and give him a kiss on the forehead and whisper a quiet ‘I love you’ to him,turn off his lights and close his door halfway.

You sigh to yourself, and a wave of annoyance comes over you not long after. You walk to the kitchen and grab your phone and quickly texting your husband

‘We need to talk’.

You set your phone down and start to do your night routine .

Hours were passing by like nothing it went from 7 to 8 all the way to 11. You were even starting to doze off yourself but with some tea it instantly went away. Once it hit 11:30 you decided to call it a night and realized that you would need to have the conversation with Eddie another time . As soon as you got up to turn the TV off and head to your room you hear the sound of the front door being shut closed. You look down the hall and eventually see your husband resting his head down and staring to take off his shoes. He looks up to your eyes already meeting his.

“Did you get my text” you ask in a low tone while sitting back down on the couch.

“Yes but I didn’t have time to respond” He says while getting a glass of water . He comes to sit next to you on the couch and gives you a kiss.

You decided to get straight to the point and not beat around the bush at all.

“Listen Eddie, I know that I can’t control the way you work or the hours that you work but you need to keep in mind that you have other priorities and one of them is your son” you say in a tone that you rarely use. Once you bring on that tone, your husband knows that he messed up big time.

He stays quiet for two minutes looking down at the carpet.

“(Y/n) you know that I want both more than to be home with you and Christopher but being a firefighter requires me to be present and on duty”. He didn’t really want to have the conversation because he was tired and he had a long day but he tried his best to take the annoyance out of him.

“I understand that but what do you expect me to do and how do you expect me to feel . Your son has been looking forward to the bedtime story routine that you and him have . Every night Eddie. Do you want me to keep telling him the same thing over and over again because I’m pretty sure he’s already picking up” you say raising your voice a little bit.

All you wanted was for him to understand where you were coming from with this. Your son is missing his dad and his wife is missing him.

He rubs a hand over his face and leans back into the couch and sighs while taking another sip of the water. He places his hand on your knee and rubs up and down your leg.

“It’s just hard Eddie, work is consuming you and I can see it . You need to make time and have a decent balance” you place your hand on his cheek and shoulder.

He smiles at you.

“Look hun, I’m so sorry it was never my intention to make you feel that way. I guess I never really realized how much I was caught up with work and how late I was coming home. It’s more of a caught up in the moment kind of thing”.

You smile at him and give him a long loving kiss. You know it’s not really his fault however there are some things that he can change and adjust just to make some things happen now.

He draws you into a comforting hug placing one hand on your back and the next one on the back of your head kissing the top of your head.

‘I’ll make the change and I’ll make time’

[historicalbeauties]

Amy Appelhans Gubser could see the Farallon Islands from her house on clear days, and would always joke with her husband that she could swim there.

5 years ago, the nurse and grandmother who lives in Pacifica started to work on this crazy idea. Gubser sought out open-water swimming mentors for guidance and even got resources through the Marathon Swimming Federation, yet things never lined up until this year.

On May 11, in 17 hours, 3 minutes, she finally made her vision come true and completed the 29.6-mile swim from the Golden Gate Bridge to the Farallon Islands.

Gubser has been around the ocean since she was 10 years old. She became an ocean lifeguard in high school and college, and also swam at the University of Michigan, yet after graduation didn’t get back into the water for 24 years.

When Gubser finally did return, she was doing more open-water swimming, for instance, swims across Lake Tahoe and Monterey Bay. The woman would always see the Farallon Islands from her house and would dream about one day swimming there.

The outbound route to the Farallon Islands is known for going against the currents, and only 5 people had previously completed the trek in the inbound direction, from the Farallons to the Golden Gate. According to the Marathon Swimmers Foundation, Gubser is the only one to complete that specific route without a wetsuit. Before her, two men successfully completed the swim in 2014, and there were also 3 recorded failures between 2012 and 2015.

The location is also known for white sharks. “The elephant in the room is white sharks, and they were in the back of my mind at all times during the swim. We didn’t take the shark thing lightly – I had a savvy crew that kept watch for them from a boat and kayak. They were ready to jump into the water to help me if I needed, but we had no shark sightings the whole time,” said Gubser. Fortunately, during the journey, she encountered several seals yet no sharks.

Another obstacle was the water temperature. She had trained to swim in cold water, but the water got as cold as 46 degrees Fahrenheit that day and it was something the woman didn’t expect and wasn’t ready for. A wetsuit probably would have helped here, but no matter the warmth and added buoyancy, she wasn’t wearing it.

“Wetsuits are a great piece of equipment, especially for people that are starting out in open water. But I follow the Marathon Swim Federation rules and the open water swim world rules that, for the last 150 years, have been the same. Which is a swimsuit, a cap, some form of goggles, earplugs and a nose clip,” explained Gubser. “When you wear a wetsuit your skin rubs against the material, and the last thing that I really wanted was for my skin to bleed near a shark island.”

The 55-year-old grandmother of two with a third on the way was very happy about her accomplishment when, no matter all the challenges, including intense fog in the Pacific Ocean all along the way, she finally reached the Farallon Islands at around 8:30 p.m. that night.

“For 17 hours, I had no idea where I was, what was going on. I had a thought bubble around me that only allowed us to see 100 meters in any direction. I went into a meditative state. There were some 30-minute time intervals that passed very quickly. Others seemed like they were 300 hours,” she explained.

“My whole family is so relieved, because I have been talking about this thing for five years, and my husband will be the first to tell you he’s just grateful it’s done,” shared Gubser. “I hope this story inspires somebody to not be challenged by a number [like] their age or their weight. I mean, all of my body got me across that. That’s pretty impressive.”

[featherandferns]

daylight - eleven

jj maybank x fem!reader | part 11 of the daylight series | read part 10 here

content warnings: mentions of sex

word count: 1.8k.

blurb: reunited with your best friend from Canada, the two of you talk about Tyler and JJ, and you finally come to a decision.

“Mimsy?” 

When your best friend smiles at you, you wonder if you’re hallucinating. It’s only when she’s flying off the bed, squealing as she tackles you in a hug, that you’re sure she’s here. Here, in Kildare County, North Carolina, instead of Vancouver. As the shock subsides, your arms coil around her before squeezing like a python around prey. 

“Oh my God,” you mumble, nestling your face in her shoulder. She smells like home. Like childhood and make-believe. It makes your eyes water. “Mimsy.”

“Surprise, babes!” she sing-songs into your ear. 

Pulling back, you take her in. “How…When…How?”

“Darren, of course,” Mimsy replies with a cheeky grin. She parts from you and laps your bedroom leisurely, as if she’s as familiar with it as you. “I told him about your wacked out voicemail and he offered to buy me a plane ticket. All I had to do was let him put it up my butt.”

“Mimsy!” you screech. 

She turns to you, shrugging. “What? I wanted him to.”

Shaking your head, you begin to laugh. It’s easy to forget how much you miss someone until you have them back. Having Mimsy in your company again felt like how a child might when they rediscover their favourite teddy bear that had been missing for months. The Pogues had been great friends to you since moving to Kildare, but like a substituted cuddly toy, nobody had come close to matching Mimsy, let alone replacing her. Having her back felt like coming up for air after hours underwater. 

“So is Darren here too?” you ask. 

“Nah,” she says. “Left him in Vancouver.”

“Well, how long are you here for?”

“Just a week. I’m thinking that’ll be long enough to set you back on your path. Bestow some wisdom on you and all that,” Mimsy says. She makes her way back over to you. “I took your voicemail as an S.O.S type situation.”

“Yeah, well,” you say, ditching your bag. “I think I screwed things up pretty wonderfully.”

“Men are simple. He’ll come crawling back,” Mimsy assures, but you’re not so convinced.

Wandering over to your pinboard, your eyes land on JJ’s beaming face. “I don’t know,” you mumble. “I don’t think JJ’s like that.”

Mimsy hums thoughtfully. She joins you by your side, presumably following your gaze. “He’s cute.”

“I know,” you chuckle. 

“He a good kisser?” Shoving her shoulder jokingly, Mimsy lets out a laugh. “What!? I’m just asking the important questions here.”

Shaking your head, you head to your bedroom door. “Wanna go check out the area? It feels wrong wasting a good day cooped up in here.”

“Sure thing,” Mimsy easily agrees.

She follows you down the stairs and into your car, and chatters the entire drive to the harbour about all the gossip and drama you’d missed in Vancouver. It felt like a series recap that came at the start of ‘a very special’ episode. It also worked well as a distraction from thoughts about JJ. That boy had crossed through your mind so much recently, you wondered whether your brainwaves might be permanently altered. 

Your tour of Kildare starts with Heywards and the Wreck before venturing towards the stretches of beach. Once Mimsy has gawked at the surfer bros for about fifteen minutes, you manage to drag her to the marsh-land area. Point out some fishing spots that JJ had introduced you to. Provide vague directions to the Pogue’s houses. After a brief lap of Figure Eight, the two of you swing by a taco bell before pulling into a look over. 

“So,” Mimsy says as she chews a churro. “What the fuck happened?”

“With JJ?” you check. She nods. Your eyes drift over to the view. Green-leaved trees form rivers, and concrete roads and housing estates become the stones of the estuary that was Kildare County. “We got in this dumb fight when I was at his to watch a movie. After that incident a while back, I still haven’t let him go down on me or anything, and he got all confrontational about it. Took it personal and stuff and…I bolted.”

“The incident being the thing about your hoo-ha?” Mimsy checks. You visibly cringe. 

“Please, do not call it that,” you mumble. 

“If you get to wear a shirt about fishing, I get to call your vaj whatever I so please,” Mimsy shrugs. She offers you a churro after as if she didn’t just say the most heinous thing you’ve ever had uttered in your car. You accept. “But is it?”

“Mhm. I’m just scared that it’ll happen again,” you say. “It was embarrassing.”

“For like a minute,” Mimsy says. “But didn’t you say JJ was really chill with it.”

“The first time, yeah. But what if it’s a recurring thing? He’s gonna start thinking it’s because of him,” you explain, calming your worry with a chocolate-drenched doughnut stick. 

“And you’re sure it isn’t?”

“No!”

“Alright!”

Sighing, you shake your head. “Sorry. I’m just…I think it’s Tyler.”

“This again?” Mimsy's tone isn’t angry; it's more concerned. “Babes, when are you going to let that whole thing be in the past?”

“I think I’m starting to,” you assure. “Maybe I didn’t deal with it when it actually happened but I had this conversation the other day and sort of...ended up burning all of his old stuff.”

Mimsy quirks a brow, squinting with just the one eye. “Bit melodramatic, don’t you think?”

“Shut up. It helped,” you reply, smiling smally. It fades away like the setting sun. “I think the whole thing has just made me nervous.”

“In what way, babes? Like you can’t trust another guy again?” Mimsy wonders. 

You chew the inside of your cheek in thought, brows furrowing, and something dawns upon you.

“I don’t think it’s that I don’t trust others. I think it’s more that I don’t trust myself. I mean, I stayed around with Tyler for so long, even when I knew I shouldn’t. Even when everyone was telling me it was bad news. That it wasn’t normal to feel the way I was feeling in a relationship. I just let him bleed me dry, and went to all that effort to try and win his attention and his affection, just for it to all mean nothing. I don’t know,” you sigh, breaking away from your rant. “I guess I just don’t trust my judgement anymore. JJ’s fine now but so was Tyler, when I first met him.”

“Okay, not true,” Mimsy quickly disagrees. Your head darts up from your twiddling fingers. “Tyler was a prick from the start, you just didn’t want to see it.”

“As delicate as a sledgehammer, Mimsy,” you mutter. 

“Second,” she continues. “From the things you’ve told me about JJ: he’s nothing like Tyler.”

That was true. With Tyler, you begged to receive compliments and even then, they were few and far between. But JJ was generous with them. Casually commented on your outfits, or your photos, or yourself. Tyler seemingly needed alcohol to remember that you existed whereas JJ came to you sober, drunk or high. Whilst your ex teased you for your fears and hopes, JJ listened and understood. Knew just how far to push the line of joking without becoming mean. 

“Can I tell you a story?” Mimsy asks. It brings you from your mental comparison. Crossing your legs in your seat and pinching another churro, you nod. 

“Sure.”

“Okay, well, it’s not exactly a story but I think it applies to this situation,” Mimsy self-corrects. “You know that show BoJack that I watch?”

“Yeah?” you wonder, unsure as to where she might be going. 

“There’s this character, Wanda, who dates BoJack for a while. At first things are perfect. Sunshine, rainbows, that whole pile of crap. But after a while, his true colours show and she can’t keep moulding him into the guy she can see he could be. Eventually it all falls apart and she says something that I think encapsulates you with Tyler beautifully. She says, ‘it’s funny: when you look at someone through rose-coloured glasses, all the red flags, just look like flags’.”

The two of you sit in the quote for a moment, eyes locked. Mimsy starts to smile, sympathetic and sweet. 

“I don’t think you’re gonna make the same mistake you did with Tyler ‘cause he ripped those glasses right off you. I think you’ve learnt your lesson once and once was enough.”

Pursing your lips, you try to keep the brimming emotions at bay. It feels like lately all it takes is a pin to prick you and you begin to cry. 

“I think it’s hard 'cause I never got the closure that I wanted. Tyler never explained why or helped leave things amicable. Or apologise, even.: not properly”

Mimsy scoffs almost sadly. “Would you have even wanted him to, though? He was a fucking pro at saying sorry.”

“Mm, that’s true,” you muse. “Maybe it would have made me feel good for a minute, in the moment, but after…”

“Yeah,” Mimsy quietly agrees, somehow hearing your unspoken words. She picks out another churro whilst you pick yours apart. “I don’t think closure’s a real thing, though. Sometimes it is, sure, if you’re really lucky, but most things aren’t like the movies. You don’t get this picture-perfect coffee-date to clear the air and stuff. Most of the time, people just leave. Like my dad. I don’t even remember what the last thing I ever said to him was, and then he was gone for good. I guess not having closure at all is sometimes closure enough, if that makes sense.”

Her words make you take pause. Half-amused, half-smiling, you take in your wonderful best friend. “When the fuck did you get so wise?”

“Oh, after you left,” Mimsy jokingly replies. “I had to read some self-help books to get me through it.”

Snorting, you toss a piece of churro at her. Her advice melts into that of Barry’s, and the cathartic bonfire from the other night serves as a catalyst for your decision making. Maybe everybody’s right. Maybe it’s time for you to remember that all people are different people, and one man’s careless actions don’t emulate anothers. JJ can’t read your mind. He can’t understand the layers of emotion and history behind one small action, and he can’t decipher what you want through your wordless actions. You need to talk to him. You’ve kept your cards close to your chest for long enough. 

“Alright, enough about me,” you say, popping a piece of churro into your mouth. Your grin brightens up the car, lightening the mood. “Tell me about Darren.”

“Oh, baby, I thought you’d never ask,” Mimsy giggles, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So it all started at this house party…”

And just like that, you listen happily to Mimsy's rambling and allow yourself to enjoy life that tiny bit more once again, with a bookmarked thought to talk to JJ sooner rather than later.

read part twelve here!

taglist:

@princessuki21 | @psyches-reid | @heybank | @avengersgirllorianna | @rrosiitas | @yourmumstoy | @jjsfavgirl | @void21 | @fictionalcomforts | @gsp420 | @redhead1180 | @wearemadeofstardust0 | @mrs-jjmaybank | @ifilwtmfc | @heybank | @lilyw1235 | @belle101200 | @maybankskiss | @lillell467 | @belle101200 | @charchartumb-lr | @bootyjiggler | @dreamingofyeo | please tell me if any tags aren't working - I've never done taglists before!

[wantingsobad]

are you bored yet? | h.hj x reader (a,f)

masterlist

pairing : hwang hyunjin x reader (y/n)

content : established relationship, insecure!y/n, cutest bf ever hyunjin, lots of self-doubt, angsty with a little fluff at the end

word count : 1.7 k

“but i can’t help from asking ‘are you bored yet?’ ”

The cold pattering of the shower onto your skin has not encouraged the effect you had been hoping for.

You had hoped that the ice-cold water would bring you back to Earth for just long enough that you could do some chores that needed to be done, but in reality, you were now stood under the running water, zoning out into an infinitesimal space of self-destruction in your mind.

The last few weeks have consisted of a constant battering and bruising of your self-worth. But all of it was caused by your own insecure thoughts.

Hyunjin has been nothing but the best boyfriend you could ever ask for, carrying you in his heart so gently as if you are the most precious thing that has ever existed. He has cared for you these past few months of dating in ways nobody else has ever even attempted to care for you.

It’s honestly a picture-perfect relationship in everyone's eyes,

except for yours.

While dating someone who might as well be considered an angel who has fallen from the sky, the floods of insecure thoughts multiplied as the months passed.

He could do better.

They are all looking at you two differently. They think you don’t deserve him.

Why would he pick someone like you?

These thoughts have led to your current predicament in the freezing shower, a useless attempt to bring back any sanity to your discouraged self. You see how this attempt is ultimately futile, and you turn off the water stream, quickly drying off and stepping out of the shower just to plop down on the floor of your bathroom, leaning against the wall.

You haven’t seen nor really talked to Hyunjin in 12 days, an insanely long time considering how often you two would call or have coffee dates together in the early mornings of the day.

He has sent a few questioning messages about where you have been or how you are, to which you would respond with such a false sense of happiness, saying that you were ‘okay, just busy’ in the least amount of words possible.

That was bullshit, and even you knew that, but the thought of facing him now after spending hours lying in bed thinking about how horrible of a partner you are for Hyunjin sounds excruciating.

Avoidance isn’t a forever option, but right now, it’s the option that works best for you.

Until the ringing of your phone begins to sound. The unique chiming is one that you had specifically set for Hyunjin so you would know to always answer that call.

You think you would rather do anything than answer that call right now.

The ringing continues to go on. You are not even making a single movement towards your phone, just letting it ring and ring up on the bathroom countertop.

You close your eyes and rest your head back up against the wall, silently praying for the ringing to finally end so you can go back into your delusional fantasy land where you will never need to talk to Hyunjin.

The phone eventually stops ringing, but it is replaced by an erratic knocking on the front door of your apartment.

You slowly stand up, still wrapped in your towel, and walk towards the front door, carelessly letting the water fall off your body to form a trail following you to the door.

You stand in front of the door, not moving to open it, as you already know who’s behind it.

If you were wrong, then you would have no clue who it-

“Y/n? Are you home?”

Your guess was right. It’s Hyunjin.

You knew that this little game of hide and seek wouldn’t last long considering the type of guy that he is, caring about you so deeply that he would take the subway at 11 pm to make sure you were okay.

Yet, you still don’t open the door. You don’t know what you would say to him.

He still deserves better. Ignoring him is for his own benefit.

“Baby, I know you are there. Please just open the door. I want to see you…”

Shit. You thought you would be stronger than this but the next thing you know you are opening the door at the sound of his pleas.

The sight of him kills you. His face is flushed a deep red and his hair is tousled due to the extremes of the late autumn weather. A quick look to his hands shows a small bouquet of flowers and a small bag from a local bakery, likely containing your favorite pasty that they make.

He quickly throws himself into you, almost dropping what he’d been holding. The hug he envelopes you in makes you feel so incredibly guilty for ignoring him.

“Why are you here?” You ask while moving a little away from the hug to see his face clearly.

“I missed you so much. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He lifts his free hand up to gently cradle the side of your face, “I just haven’t seen you in so long so I figured a surprise visit with some of your favorites would help relieve you from some of the stress of your busy schedule.”

Honestly, you wish you would just get swallowed up by the floor right now. Hearing him care so much after you have been lying to him for almost two weeks was a wild punch in the gut for you, the guilt almost unbearable.

And because of this, you move out of Hyunjin’s hold as tears start to stream down your face.

His face morphs into one of confusion and concern as he figured you would be happy to see him rather than sad.

“Hyunjin, i really think you should go home. It’s late,” you say, barely able to say this without your voice entirely failing on you.

“What? Are you okay? I’m not going home,” He steps further into your apartment closing the door behind him and setting his gifts on the floor before approaching you, waiting for you to seek comfort in him as you normally do.

But this time, you don’t move toward him. Rather, you take another step back as you avoid eye contact with him, not being able to deal with the hurt in his eyes. “I’m just not feeling well right now, Hyunjin. Thank you for coming to check up on me, but you should leave.”

“Stop calling me Hyunjin,” he says while walking further toward you so he can lift up your face so you will meet his eyes, “You never call me Hyunjin. Please tell me what’s wrong. Did I do something, baby?”

God, you wish he wasn’t the absolute sweetest soul in the world. Of course, it wasn’t because of him. He could never do anything wrong to you.

“No, it’s not you,” you quickly spill out, not wanting him to delve any deeper down that hole, “but it’s definitely because of me.”

He gives a confused quirk of his eyebrows and a sort of sad look in his eyes, “What do you mean? You haven’t done anything.”

“That’s exactly it, Jinnie. I haven’t done anything. I just don’t understand why you are here to see me when I’m just me. How are you not bored of me yet?” This comes out straggled through your sobs, and you are practically unable to get out the entire thing.

A quick look into his eyes immediately calls out every one of your idiotic insecurities to be horribly wrong as his care for you is reflected back to you.

“What are you even saying, baby?” He starts to tear up at your admission of conscience, feeling horrible himself for not treating you better (as if he wasn’t already treating you like a goddess beforehand). “I will never get bored of you. You are my everything, Y/n. My happiness. My comfort. My love.”

“But Jinnie-“ You try to speak out to stop him from continuing.

“No. There are no ‘buts’ here. I am here for a reason, baby, because I love you so much that I was worried sick that work had been stressing you out too much with how busy you’ve been. I hated thinking about you being miserable, so I came to see you. I missed you, and I wanted to talk to you. I love you, Y/n. Does that really seem like I’m ever going to be bored of you?” Hyunjin proclaims this with his full chest, reaching and holding onto your hands so tightly just to get his point across.

You don’t think you have ever been loved as well as Hyunjin loves you. He truly, unconditionally loves you with everything that he is able to give you.

You shatter the glass pane of insecurities, pushing past those insignificant thoughts to realize that you are more than lucky to have this great of a man here to love you. You run into his arms, holding him in the tightest hug you could give. “I’m so sorry, Jinnie. I love you, too, so so so so much.”

Hyunjin breathes out a deep, relieved sigh as he reciprocates the hug. He knows you have struggled in your past with feeling insecure, but he never thought you would ever feel that way when being with him.

He gives you time to get what you need from this hug until your grip on him loosens a little. He takes the initiative this time and pulls out of the hug, transferring his admiration for you from a hug into a deep kiss that takes you by surprise.

It’s a long kiss, one that you both need. It’s a shared sign of your love for each other as you both sigh into this kiss, revelling in the affection and warmth of the other.

After breaking the kiss when needing to breathe, you and Hyunjin look at each other. This is when you truly realize how enamoured you are with him, which you can see in his eyes is exactly how he’s looking at you, with only pure love.

“Thank you, Hyunjin. You are my prince.”

He laughs airily at this but responds, “Anything for you, my princess.”

You know that these insecurities will eventually come back, but now you know that your prince will come in to swoop you up and take you away from that evil into a land of happiness and love.

a/n : i’m sorry but hyunjin is just so boyfriend-coded that this needed to happen. this song is so good that i just had to use it as inspo. as always, requests are open and lmk how i did! - eb

[asmutwriter]

The Gangsta's Wife (Part 11)

DESCRIPTION: Due to recent events taking place your husband asks you about an important business opportunity

A/N: I have had a bit of writters block over the past couple of months which is why I have had a small break from this story. Although the block is disapearing I may still take a little while for the next part of this story to come out. Only because I want to potentially finish writing the whole thing before releasing the chapters. Having said that - enjoy this part :)

(I'm so sorry it took me over two months to post anything in this storyline)

WORD COUNT: 3546

From Beginning / Previous / Next / Master List  

WARNINGS: heartbreak, mentions of past relationships, talk of death, smoking, swearing, mentions of the war, light touches of fluff, quite a lot of angst although nothing in particular to note

DISCLAIMERS

This is fiction. Please always talk to your partner before doing anything and make sure they are ok with what you are doing beforehand

This story does not follow the timeline of the show

NINE YEARS AGO

It was 6:30am. You stand at the station. Watching the entrance. Few people coming in and out. A couple of trains going past at various times. You're small luggage bag by your feet as you fiddle with the ring on your finger. Every face coming in you get hopeful that its him. The seconds turn to minutes.

The station guard comes over to you. A tall, stocky man. "Miss?". You turn to face him. Acknowledging him before looking back at the station. His eyes drift that way too. "Am I able to help at all?". You shake your head and smile at him.

"I'm meant to meet my fiance here. But he's running late". He nods. Smiling at the young love.

"I'm sure he'll will turn up. Maybe he just lost track of time". He says. A comfort in his voice. The minutes soon turn to an hour. The rush of people picks up. Pushing past as they catch their work trains.

Two hours. The platform is busy. You try and see over the various heads of workers. Trying to catch a glimpse of him. Any sign that he's arrived.

Three hours. A couple of late stragglers catching the trains as you stay standing. Watching. You wipe at the tears threatening to fall. Sniffing. The guard comes back over. He takes out a handkerchief from his pocket. Handing it to you. You look up at him. A soft smile on his lips.

"Thank you". You whisper. He nods. Walking back down the length of platform. You wipe your nose. Hearing the distant church bell ringing out. 10am. You hiccup out a sob. Bending down as you pick up your bag. Going off of the platform.

Finding a river. You look at it. Taking off your engagement ring. Wrapping it into the hanky. Bringing the time up to your lips. A gentle kiss to it as tears fall down your cheeks. Putting your hands out and dropping it. You watch as it falls down into the water.

PRESENT DAY

It had been a couple of weeks since your housewarming party. It was the mid afternoon when you hear the door knock. You were playing with Charlie in the nursery. "Come on sweetie". You pick him up under the armpits. Placing him on your hip "Lets go see who it is". You kiss his temple before heading downstairs. Betty had opened the door. Shutting it as you get down the stairs. She holds a letter in her hand. Turning to face you.

"Mrs Shelby" she closes the small distance. "A letter for you".

"Thank you" you take it from her. She smiles at you and your child before leaving to do the housework of the day. You go to the study room. Knocking onto the heavy door. Sometimes your husband would have meetings in the room so you wanted to make sure it was free. Due to the silence you decided it was empty. Opening the door as you go inside. Picking up a letter opener. Managing to open it whilst still holding Charlie. Putting the sharp item back down. You go to take it out the paper confines. Just as you hear someone call out in a sing song voice. The front door slamming shut.

"Oh dear sister of mine!" You hear Elizabeths voice throughout the house. Chuckling as you place the letter onto the desk top.

"Lets go see your auntie" you say. Jiggling your son on your hip as you leave the study. Closing the door behind you. Forgetting the letter on the desk top. Going downstairs as you meet both your sisters. Liz is swift to take Charlie from your grasp as Mary coos over him. You let out a soft chuckle. Spending the rest of the day with them. Chatting and playing with your son.

They leave after dinner. Letting you put your boy to bed peacefully. Reading to him and kissing him goodnight. You shut the door behind you. The soft click of the door shutting as you creep along the corridor. Going into the dining room to start clearing away dirty plates and cups. Bumping into Betty as she has already started tidying.

"I've told you not to worry yourself with cleaning the table. Its my mess. I should be the one cleaning it". She smiles. Glancing up at you as she lets out a soft laugh. Stacking the various condiments onto her arms.

"Its my job Mrs Shelby. Its what you pay me to do"

"I still feel guilty about it. Here-" you go over to her. Taking the small mountain of cups she has balanced in her grasp. "At least let me help". Following her into the kitchen. Placing the items onto the side as she starts to clean the dishes.

"Who was that letter from?" you furrow your brow at her. Shaking your head slightly. "The letter from this morning. With the fancy wax seal on it". She looks at the washing up as she talks. Occasionally glancing your way.

"Shit. I opened it but forgot to read it". You let out a laugh as she giggles softly. Shaking your head. "Are you ok for me to leave you?" she nods.

"Of course" she smiles. Turning briefly to face you. "Go. I'll be fine". You smile at her. Thanking her before going to the study. Once again giving a gentle knock before entering the room. Going inside as you go over to the desk. Picking up the letter. Taking it up to the bedroom. You place it onto the bedside table. Getting dressed into your cream coloured nightdress. Getting under the blanket. Folding your legs under yourself as you pick the letter back up. Taking the paper out of the envelope. Placing that back onto the side as you open it. Eyes going to the ink written on the parchment.

'Dear Florence Shelby,

Not seen you in almost 10 years and you've gotten married to one of the most popular names in Birmingham. I guess that means a congratulations are in order. I do hope he treats you well. You deserve only the best.

I heard the ordeal you had with my mother a few weeks back. Although she spared me the more vulgar details I feel I can fill in the blanks of what you said to her.

I would like to apologise for her behaviour towards you and your husband. In my apologies I would like to formally invite you up to London for a meal with myself and my wife. Don't worry, my mother wont be there.

I am hoping to right any wrongs that may have happened in the past between us. In doing so I hope that me and your husband will be able to become great partners together.

I do hope to see you soon.

Regards,

Benjamin Finnley'

Your stomach drops. Blood running cold. Thankfully you are already sitting down. Feeling your legs turn to jelly. Shaking your head. You grip the paper tightly. Feeling silent tears come to your eyes. Daring to fall as you look at the words written on the paper. You're unsure of how much time had passed. But you get drawn into the real world as you hear the door to the bedroom open. You draw your eyes away from the letter. Meeting the familiar cold blue of your husbands. He scans over your demeanour. Quickly sensing something is off.

"Whats wrong love?". He comes over to you. Not even taking the time to remove his hat. Noting the paper in your hand. He comes to your side of the bed. Kneeling down by it. Hands going to your arms. You shake your head. Blinking as to stop any tears. Unable to form any sentences. Holding the paper towards him. Hands having scrunched it up from your grip. He takes it. Eyes going to the words. Reading it as his face remains still. Your eyes frantically scan over his features. Trying to read any of his expressions. His eyes scanning over the ink. He takes in a breath through his nose. Scratching under his bottom lip with his thumb.

"I loved him" you speak softly. Managing to voice your problems. "With my entire being I loved him. That pure kind of love. I- I gave him everything a young girl could give to someone... With every ounce of my being, I was completely devoted to him. But I don't think I was anything more then just... a girl". You shake your head. Looking at him. "Now he wants to be a business partner with you and I'm unsure of what to do in this situation". He turns his head to look at you. Placing the paper down onto the bed.

"I am aware of your past relationship with him. As a business woman I ask that you look past any sort of past relationship you had with him. Put those feelings aside to allow me to grow my business". You look downward. Hands falling into your lap. Lightly playing with the wedding band adorning your finger. Pressing your lips together. Listening to his words. "As your husband... I understand if you do not want to see him and if you want to break all ties with him". You nod.

"He is a rich and powerful man... He'd be great for your business" you whisper. A silent pause. Neither of you say a word for a minute. Until his hand goes to yours. Gently resting over your fidgeting digits. You blink at the affection before drawing your eyes to his face.

"I will respect your decision. Regardless of which one you pick". You nod ever so slightly. His eyes soft as they watch yours. Feeling his heat against your cold hands. Your heart skips a beat. A feeling bubbling inside of you that you haven't felt in a long, long time. You swallow deeply. Looking downward as you retract you hand from his. Pushing that feeling deep down inside of you. Folding your arms over your torso. Mentally shaking yourself.

"Have you ever been in love?". You speak in a low voice. Looking downward as a deafening silence starts to fill the room. Your eyes cast back to him as he stands. Going over to the vanity unit in your room as he starts to disrobe. Taking off his jacket, hat, waistcoat, gun holster, so on.

"Its too late to make any decisions now. Why don't you get some rest and think about it in the morning, eh?". You nod slightly. Noticing how he doesn't turn back to you. That wasn't through modesty. You'd been married to him for almost two years. You'd learnt that he was a very confident person. Never shying away, especially not in front of someone as personal as his wife. You also learnt in the years you had spent with him not to pry. No matter how much you desired to. So you brush this behaviour off. Nodding slightly.

Moving the paper onto the side before settling down into bed. Turning the small light off on your side. Feeling the bed dip as he gets in next to you. Before your have time to turn to look at him. Wish him goodnight or ask him about his work day he turns out his lamp. You blink in the darkness. Trying to make out his shape. Biting your bottom lip slightly as you turn onto your other side. Back facing him as you try and let sleep take your mind. Sadly your thoughts don't settle during the night. Causing you to have nightmares when you do finally fall asleep.

You wake up. Very early due to your restless night. It must be early as your husband still rests in the bed next to you. You're never up before him. Quietly swinging your legs from over the bed as you stand and get dressed. You go to Charlies room. Listening outside the door for any sign of movement or noise. Nothing. A small smile coming over your lips. That means you can have a nice quiet breakfast. Heading downstairs. Into the kitchen. Shooing Betty as she tries to serve you your food. Telling her that you want to make it yourself before going into the dining room. Sitting at the fancy table with you variety of assorted items. Eating away to your hearts content.

The door opens. Causing you to look up as you pause in your habit. You husband walks in. Dressed in a smart three piece suit. You scan over his torso. Breaking a bit of bread. "Good morning". You say. He doesn't fully smile, but you can see an amusement coming over his face.

"I wasn't expecting you to be awake".

"I struggled sleeping last night. I know I was awake early though. Neither you or Charles were awake". He lets out a laugh at the statement. Betty walks in.

"Good morning sir. What can I get you to eat?". He shakes his head.

"I am not hungry at this moment. I will have my first meeting then eat after". He turns to face the maid as she nods. Leaving the room. He comes over and sits next to you. Motioning with his hand at your array of food. "Please do continue. Don't stop on my account". You eat some more. Picking up an orange. Pealing it. Handing him a slice. He takes it from you. A small smile on his lips as he watches you eating. You smile contently as you take another bite of your food. He looks downwards as his fingers run across the fragment of fruit in his hand. You merrily stuffing your face as you pay him no mind.

"Greta Jurrosi". He says the name softly. You pause in your eating. A confused look across your brow as you tilt your head. Shaking it slightly. Covering your mouth as you speak.

"I don't understand" He looks at you. Eyes soft yet unreadable. You scan over his face. Placing your hands down as he takes in a breath.

"It was before the war. When I was a much younger man". He half smiles. Looking downwards as he reminisces. "We fell in love". Silence comes over the room as you watch him.

"What happened?". Your voice no more then a whisper.

"She died of consumption. She was only 19".

"Oh Tommy I-". He shakes his head. Lifting his hand slightly in an effort to quiet you.

"I have fond memories of her. Kept away in my mind. Ones that remind me of what its like to feel. To appreciate the things in this world. Yes I am sad about her death. But I wouldn't be the man I am today if I'd never experienced that". You watch him. Hesitate slightly. Putting your hand out as you rest it gently over his. Squeezing it reassuringly.

"I am so sorry". He looks at your hand covering his. His soft features looking up at you. Eyes kind as they meet your gaze. You bring your bottom lip between your teeth. Tilting your head slightly as you take in a breath. "I've been thinking" you pause a moment. Unsure to gather your thoughts or for dramatic effect. "I think you should become a partner of Mr Finnley. He would be great for the growth of your business and it would be stupid to not take this opportunity due to events that happened a decade ago". He watches you. A soft nod.

"I want you to come to the family meeting this morning". You shake your head. Moving your hand from his as you dart your eyes away. Tilting your head down.

"I can't-"

"You have insight on Mr Finnley that I don't have. You will be able to give a clear cut analysis of what a future would be like with him as a partner". He places a hand onto your cheek. Gently forcing you to look at him. "What do you think then ey?". Your eyes go over his features. Sharp eyes. Defined cheek bones. Smooth skin. Small scar on his cheek. You take in a breath. Nodding. A light smile comes over his lips. "Good girl". He moves his hand away. Standing up. Your eyes follow him. Watching as he takes out a pocket watch. "I will inform Betty that she will need to get Charlie up this morning if he wakes before the meeting is finished. Meeting starts at 8:30 in the study room. Giving you a little over half an hour". He places the watch back into his pocket. Turning as he walks out the door.

Gently knocking onto the door of his study. "Come in" the voice of your husband speaks. You go inside. Your husband sat on the other side of his desk. His two brothers also in the room. As well as his aunt. Shutting the door behind you as you go and lean against the wall. Folding your arms over your torso as you rest on one side.

"The meeting started 5 minutes ago". Polly says. Glaring at you. Seeing your husband take out and light a cigarette. Looking at her as you let her chastise you. "Apparently we couldn't start it without you. Goodness knows why"

"Because I need insight on a future business partner" Tommy says. You all look at him. He removes the smoke from his lips. Resting his palm against the desk. "Mr Benjamin Finnley".

"That name sounds familiar". John says. Shuffling in his seat as he tries to think of the name.

"Mrs Dickinson - his recently remmaried mother came to our housewarming party. Causing quite a commotion that night. Due to the recent affair that this had caused he has contacted Florence. Wanting to apologise and make amends for her behaviour. I thought that the close family should know of this business as it has a lot of good potential for our futures". He pauses. Taking a puff of his smoke before motioning towards you. "Because of his past involving Flo I wanted her opinion on him. As a person and as a potential business partner. She has the best insight on who he is". Meeting those blue eyes he speaks in a kind yet demanding tone. "Care to enlighten us".

"What could she possibly know?". Polly scoffs. Shaking her head. You bring your hand up. Scratching at the back off your neck. Avoiding eye contact with all of them as you cast your eyes downwards. Both arms coming forward as you fiddle with your wedding band. Hands resting into your stomach as you start speaking.

"Mr Finnley owns a large business up in London. He inherited the company when he turned 18 - 4 years after his father death. After this he started making new business. He now owns several business dealing in tobacco, alcohol, training horses, and a few other things. He owns a flower shop that his sister works in". Looking upward. Seeing an amused and proud face adorning your husbands features as your various in laws look at you in bewilderment. "He is the youngest of three. Having one sister and one brother. Sadly his eldest brother died during the war. Being the only male left he inherited his fathers fortune". You pause. Once again folding your arms over your torso.

"He would be a very good partner to have in sense of wealth and power. He has enough money to buy the King. Although I do not know him from a professional standard. I do know he is- he puts his business first". You take in a breath. Nodding slightly. "You would be wise to become a business partner of his. I think it would be a great career choice". Silence comes over the room. Tommy nods. Motioning at you.

"How well did you know him?". Arthur speaks. Looking at you. "Did you ever do business with him or were you two friends?". You move your eyes down as you think through your words carefully. Bringing them back up as you look at him.

"He was my fiance". Polly laughs. Shaking her head.

"Tommy you aren't serious about this?" she speaks to her nephew. "Is it wise doing business with him?" Pol says. Almost bursting with the idea. "Given your wife's past relation with the man"

"The relationship that me and Mr Finnley had ended a decade ago. I have put all past feelings for him to the side as I am aware of the potential good that this business opportunity could have for this family". She scoffs at the notion. Looking away from you as your husband speaks.

"Does anyone else have anything to add?". Silence fills the room. Causing him to nod. Stubbing out his cigarette in the small glass dish resting on his desk. Standing as he speaks. "Good. Now I have business to attend to elsewhere. Florence write up a letter to send back to Mr Finnley. I trust your judgment and writing capability to write a pleasant letter back telling him that we will be up in London in a week today to see him". You nod. His brothers and aunt following him in suit as they leave the room. Leaving you leaning against the wall.

Previous / Next

TAGS

@whorecrux-of-slytherin @kkrenae @ireallydontcareanymorebrooo @frozenhuntress67 @sagemastah

[ladykailitha]

Never Hold Back Your Step... Part 13

This really is getting down to the end here. I'm already at the Mind Flayer in the spot where I'm at in the story so...yeah. Then it would just one chapter after that. Maybe. I don't know. But it's sad to see this one go, too.

Of course as with "Can Anybody See Me?" once this is done, I will begin work on the final story which will take us all the way to the end of the fourth season. Which I hope to get done before season 5. Ideally.

It will have a line from a song in a musical just like the last two (1776 and The Scarlet Pimpernel respectively) so you have any songs you think will fit the theme of the third book (which will be Steve and Eddie clashing over nerds vs sports until that fateful day in March) let me know in the comments or tags or even a DM or ask. It took me months to come up with the title for this one, so any help would be great.

Here we have the dipshit detectives trying to figure out the message and the "secret tunnel".

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12

~

Once they explained everything to Robin, she told them about what the message said. And no given the context of the message coming from the mall it suddenly made too sense.

“The clock tower, the shoe shop and the Chinese place,” she crowed. “It’s got to be.”

“You sure you translated it correctly?” Steve asked. “Because what the fuck does blue meeting yellow have anything to do with the clock tower?”

Robin rolled her eyes and huffed out a deep sigh. “The hour and minute hands are blue and yellow and meeting in the west would be 9:45!”

Eddie tilted his head to the side. “AM or PM?”

Robin stared at him for a moment in shock. “Oh. I don’t know. Could be either I guess.”

Eddie looked at his watch and cursed. “As thrilling as all this has been, I have to get to band practice.” He gave Steve’s shoulder a squeeze. “Be careful, Stevie. Okay?”

Steve nodded and squeezed Eddie’s shoulder back. God, he just want to kiss him goodbye, because it might be his last opportunity to do so. But Dustin and Robin were watching and probably half of the mall too. “As careful as I can be.”

“How can you be so super chill about this?” Robin asked after he left. “Like Russians are running around our mall and Eddie acts like this is a normal Tuesday for you?”

Dustin and Steve shared a glance.

But Steve just scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Like I’ve had the worst year. My girlfriend broke up with me, I got my head bashed in by Hargrove, I got harassed by the basketball team, I nearly got water dumped on my head because I won the part fair and square, then the same asshole tried to scramble my brains further, I didn’t get into the right colleges and was forced to work here instead of the rec center pool like have for the last three years, and a fuck ton of other things. Now Russians have set up shop in my home town? This is just the cherry on top of a very shit filled cake.”

Robin and Dustin winced. Dustin knew that Steve’s year was actually way worse than the truncated version he gave Robin, but they couldn’t tell her about the tunnels, El, monsters, and secret labs. Hence, fuck ton of things.

“Okay,” Robin conceded, “it does sound like your average Tuesday.” She looked up at the clock. “You’re supposed to be off, anyway. So shoo and take the genius child with you.”

Dustin beamed up Steve smugly, but Steve just knocked his hat off on his way to clock out.

“Hey!” Dustin shouted after him. He turned to Robin. “Can you believe this guy?”

Robin just shrugged. “You’re the one who’s friends with him, not me.”

Steve walked out moments later, twirling the hat on his finger. He walked past Dustin to the mall food court. He stopped and turned around.

“Are you coming or are you going to keep harassing workers?” he huffed, putting a hand on his hip.

Robin burst out laughing as Dustin hurried to catch up, scooping his hat off the floor in haste.

Steve shook his head as they walked through the mall. “Hey if we grab my binoculars, I bet we could stake out the mall and look for Russians.”

Steve looked at his watch and sighed. Eddie wouldn’t get done with band practice until much later tonight and he didn’t want to go back to his large empty house, because of course his parents fucked off to the Caribbean for the summer. His father had forced him to give up a job he loved for the most humiliating retail job imaginable and then fucked off to some place pleasant, leaving him to rot.

“Yeah, okay.”

Dustin let out a whoop and jumped up and down. “You won’t regret this!”

Steve buried his head in his hands. “I already do.”

~

Steve and Dustin were hiding behind a large potted plant with Dustin’s binoculars watching people go by.

“What are we supposed to looking for, anyway?” Steve asked, scanning the crowds.

“Russians.”

Steve tore himself away from the binoculars to glare at him. “Thank you for that unhelpful assessment. I know I’m supposed to be looking for Russians, but what do Russians look like?”

“I don’t know,” Dustin huffed. “Tall, blond, scary looking dudes, I guess.”

Steve rolled his eyes and kept looking. He spotted Anna Jacobi flirting with Mark Lewinsky and huffed out a a noise of disgust.

“You have got to be kidding me,” he said with a sigh. “Anna can do way better than swamp ass Lewinsky.”

Dustin smacked his shoulder. “Can you please take this seriously? You’re supposed to be looking for Russians, not your next date. Besides you already have the perfect girl right there!”

Steve rolled his eyes and went back to looking through the binoculars. “Don’t say Robin.”

“Robin.” Was the immediate response.

“No, man,” Steve said as Dustin grabbed the binoculars from him, “she’s not my type. She’s not even in the ballpark of my type.�� Considering that she had boobies and not a dick, pretty much sealed the box on any chances of that romantic relationship going anywhere.

Dustin looked over at him and sneered. “And what’s your type again? Not awesome?”

Fuck you. But Steve sneered and stuck his tongue out. “Thank you.”

Dustin grinned back at him with a little hum.

“Look,” Steve said, “for your information, she’s still in school. And she’s weird. But not like Eddie weird. Weird, weird. And she’s hyper. Like worse than Eddie. At least if you put a book in his hand, he’ll settle down. She’ll tap her fingers and twirl her gum. She was also one of those kids in drama who didn’t think I deserved the role of Thomson. That’s a bad look. And she’s in band? But not a rock band like Eddie, a fucking trumpet.” He twisted his lips in disgust. “No.”

Dustin turned to face him. “Now that you’re out of school, that means you’re an adult. And don’t you think you should move past primitive social constructs like popularity?”

Steve looked at him as if he was joking. “Popularity? Are you fucking with me right now? Did you forget I wasn’t popular for the last four months of high school? Primitive constructs, I tell you. Where the hell did you learn that shit? Camp Know Nothing?”

“Camp Know Where, actually,” Dustin huffed, “And no, it’s shit I learned from life. Instead of dating someone you think will make you cool again, why not date someone you enjoy being around for a change? Like me and Suzie.” He smiled broadly. He turned back to watching the through the binoculars.

Steve was soo close to just telling the little shit that he was dating someone he enjoyed being around, someone who did make him look cooler, someone who loved him for him and not in spite of him. But instead he took a deep breath and said, “Oh Suzie. Yeah, you mean hotter than Phoebe Cates. That Suzie. And let’s think about how exactly you scored a girlfriend?”

He scratched his head, appearing to think about it, then he snapped his fingers. “Oh yeah, with my advice. Because that’s how this works, Henderson. I give the advice and you follow through. Not the other way around, all right?”

Dustin sighed. “I just think you could really benefit from being with someone like her, you know?”

Steve rubbed the top of the kid’s head. “I’m doing better than you think I am. Better then everyone thinks I am.”

Dustin stared at him skeptically, but left it alone. Steve knew that there was no way he was going to leave it alone. He just knew that it was going to come back and bite him in the ass in the worst way and at the worst time. He could feel it.

~

“There is a secret room under the mall,” Steve said slowly, not quite wanting to believe this. “And we can get there through the air vents in the break room?”

Robin nodded emphatically. “Yeah, isn’t that cool?”

He had no idea how to tell her how uncool that actually was, because Jesus fuck, the deeper they got into this, the more over his head he felt.

“Let’s go see your secret tunnel,” he said with a sigh, rubbing his face, just suddenly exhausted by the whole thing.

He followed them to the back and looked up at the vent in utter despair. Sighing, he got a ladder and set it up, then hunted around for a screwdriver. Once he found one, he tucked it between his teeth and started climbing. He reached the vent and unscrewed the screws holding the vent in place.

“Oi!” he called out to Dustin. “Hold these!” He held out the screws for him to take. “Don’t lose them, otherwise people are going to ask why there is a great big gaping hole in the wall.”

Dustin rolled his eyes, but did as he was told. Steve put the screwdriver back between his teeth and took off the vent cover.

“It’s a tight space,” he murmured. “Hey, Robin you think you could fit? You’re pretty thin.”

Robin put her hands on her hips and glared up at him. “While I appreciate you thinking I’m skinny enough to fit, I question your sanity if you think I’m going down the creepy tunnel.”

“Vent!” Dustin huffed. “You’ve both called it a tunnel. It’s not a tunnel, it’s a vent. And none of us are small enough to fit.”

DING! DING! “Hey!” someone called out from the front of the store. “Is anyone here?”

Steve who had been climbing down the ladder, stopped and shared a look with Dustin. A slow smile took over their faces.

“Erica!” they said together with glee.

They ran out to the front with Robin fast on their heels. They skidded to a stop and their smiles grew to actual grins when they saw that she was alone and not with her many friends.

“Erica...hey,” Steve said smoothly, leaning against the counter. “What can I get you?”

She narrowed her eyes at him suspiciously. “Why are you suddenly being so nice?”

Just then Dustin and Robin burst out of the back room and stumbled into front and Erica was even more suspicious than she was before.

So Steve bundled her over to one of the booths and tried plying her with all the ice cream a little girl could conceivably eat, while Dustin filled both Robin and Erica about the messages and all their clues and how they put it all together. It was a hard but impressive sell.

“So will you do it for America?” Dustin asked.

“Well, you can’t spell America without Erica,” she said smugly. “A life time supply of Scoops Ice Cream and you’ve got a deal.”

Robin and Steve shared a glance. Then Steve reached across the table to shake Erica’s hand.

“Deal.”

~

Part 14 Part 15 Part 16

And if you remember something else there from WIP Wednesday... yeah. It wasn't fitting with the rest of the story and had to be cut. Sadness.

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[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky x Reader

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 11

Warnings: swearing, angst

Notes: this chapter came out shorter than I'd like but this updates only a few days late. Hope y'all enjoy.

Life at the compound went on but with the 'punishments' Fury and Hill assigned everyone was too busy to do much else. Training, chores, therapy and sleep were all Bucky had the time or energy for but he made sure to write to Cookie every day, even though some days there wasn't much to say.

Two weeks after the meeting with Fury, Bucky was eating lunch with Sam, who nagged him more than Steve, so he had learned to tune him out. One of the admins walked by with Avengers mail and Bucky was shocked to get something. He wasn't the most popular Avenger so rarely had any fan mail. He took the envelope from the admin and looked at it with wide eyes. He gasped when he saw who it was from and felt his heart racing. It was kinda lumpy, like there was more than just a letter. His stomach dropped when he assumed she was returning his dog tags and he set it down on the table, afraid to open it.

Sam looked over "You might as well tear off that bandaid and get it over with. How much worse could it be?"

Bucky looked at him with sad eyes. "She could be telling me she never wants anything to do with me. Not that I don't deserve it but right now I still have hope. Like Schroedingers cat, right now our friendship is alive and dead at the same time but once I open it, it'll be one or the other."

Sam chuckled "You're not wrong but you can't pretend forever. Maybe she's asking for something from you but if you don't read it you won't give it to her and she'll think you don't really care."

Bucky nodded "Yeah, I guess. I'll open it tonight."

Bucky spent the rest of the day acutely aware of the envelope in his back pocket, reaching back to touch it and make sure it was still there, like a talisman helping him through the day.

Once the work for the day was done he went to his room, locked the door and stripped down to his t-shirt and boxers to get comfortable on his bed. He picked up the envelope and examined it thoroughly, he could just barely catch the scent of her lavender hand lotion on it.

After 20 minutes he decided he had gleaned all the info he could without opening the envelope and with shaking hands, carefully opened it. He pulled the paper out and when he unfolded it, something fell into his lap. The special dog tags that Sam had given him as a joke and a picture.

He picked up the picture and felt like his heart stopped when he realized it was Cookie, smirking at him with his own dog tags nestled in her cleavage. Not a scrap of clothing in sight. His mouth went dry and he felt hot. He took a drink of water before looking at the paper.

Dear Bucky,

Let me know what you think of the picture. I think the enclosed tags would look good on you, if you want to wear them. I wouldn't mind a picture.

XO,

Cookie

Bucky fumbled to take his shirt off and put the tags on before taking a blurry picture. He looked at his phone, dissatisfied with his selfie skills, or lack of, and spent an hour before he was happy with the results. Now he had to figure out how to print it without asking for help, or find someone who could help and keep a secret from Sam. Steve was worse with tech than he was and he knew Nat or Sharon would make a big deal. As he went down the list in his head he wondered if Cookie would mind if he attached it to an email.

Bucky sighed and opened up his laptop to search for directions on how to print something from his phone and looked at Starks intranet to find the closest color printer to his room.

It took half the night but he finally had a clear, color picture to send to Cookie.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next few weeks rolled by quickly as Cookie whipped the Boston office into shape, much to Dylan's chagrin. She spent the days working closely with Annie, evaluating the rest of the team to see where there were weaknesses so they could work on training them all up to where they needed to be. The fact that Dylan resented her aside, he had enjoyed his "management" of this office by doing nothing but lording over the rest of the team and overusing his expense account, without paying attention to their skills or lack thereof.

Cookie made herself a note to bring up Dylan's uselessness with Nick Fury and recommend cutting him loose or transferring him to a position with less authority and responsibility. She planned to push for Annie to run this office when she left.

She was working on a full report on the office and was very glad she had moved here to see in person how things ran because she never would have known how badly Dylan was slacking off.

In her conclusions she pondered spending the next couple of years hopping from office to office, to do the same. It would take longer to get back to the compound than she wanted but she felt it would be the best for SHIELD/SWORD's intel apparatus, which was her job.

In the evenings she went back to her townhouse to eat alone, watch the news and read Bucky's letters. He was ever so slowly wearing her down. It wasn't hard, she missed her best friend and never stopped loving him.

Dear Cookie,

I hope you are good and haven't gotten tired of hearing from me. I haven't heard anything back so I don't know if you're reading them or just tossing them in the fire.

Life is mostly back to normal. Fury yelled at us for 3 hours about you this morning, he's not happy you're gone. Everyone misses you. Maybe not Nat and Sharon but at least they are finally leaving me alone.

Tony keeps bitching about his favorite cookies but I know he misses you.

Steve is in his element, being the disapproving dad to all us difficult kids. If he doesn't get over himself I might have to kick his ass.

Sam misses you. I know he talks to you on the phone a lot and he's irritating as hell, making sure to let me know it's my fault you left, like I didn't already know that. I wish I knew how to fix things and make you want to come home but I'm not that bright, obviously, so I'll keep writing until you tell me to stop.

Fury is being even more of an impossible prick than usual. He cancelled all leave and has us doing extra training and chores around the compound like we're grounded teenagers. It's exhausting but it keeps me busy between missions. Doesn't stop me from thinking about you every day.

I understand that you might not want to wear my dog tags but if you don't want them could you send them back? They're all I have left of my past.

I hope to hear from you soon.

All my love,

JBB

Like every night since she started reading Bucky's letters, Cookie fell asleep clutching his dog tags and that nights letter to her chest.

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