#I’m feeling something w chocolate or Caramel

[tightjeansjavi]

You’re all invited to get frozen yogurt with me <3 I only can fit 4 people in my car but idc! Fuck it we ball!

[omniflows]

The Deepest Berry

I was on Facebook looking for someone to spend time with when I saw someone that I knew only in passing when I was in high school.

This guy was notorious in the school. The girls seemingly loved him because he was always well dressed and I’ll even assume that there may have been other reasons behind the scenes why they loved him..

To the girls at that school, he was black.. but inside he struggled with accepting that part of himself due to systematic racism in his culture.

It led me to question myself and my own thoughts about blackness and skin color. I am an esthetician and my practice deals with skin.. I haven’t been able to practice as long as some other estheticians but I still consider myself a skincare specialist by trade.

I am a black woman of olive to caramel complexion and rarely faced problems because of my skin color but I have a mother who also struggles with colorism.

In her mind, she just wants to have smooth skin. I look at her skin every other day.. To me her skin is very smooth, velvety.. She uses skin lightening creams to change her skin color to a lighter complexion. Her natural color is of a chocolate brown.

Why is it so important to me to speak of colorism and blackness? I wondered if the insecurities that black people face required them to experience a deeper form of love.

Women who are of a lighter complexion rarely face the same experiences as women of color in the dating scene. They are preferred and less rejected. They have their own issues but at least in personal ads and dating sites they don’t have to worry about changing their ethnicity to white or latino to just speak to someone of quality.

When I say quality, I do not mean that black people are not quality. The algorithms on dating sites tend to choose a particular audience when you put down that your ethnicity is of black descent.

I decided to overall leave the dating scene in order to take care of myself better so that when I go back into the scene, I am a fit choice and not a burden.

However, the last couple times that I went on Facebook dating.. There was this one particular guy who was interested in me every time.

I was looking for a man who was either my complexion or darker than my complexion, but this guy was very fair with light eyes and light hair.

How do I feel about that? It was very important for me to be with someone who was around my age, attractive, interesting, and most notably able to produce black children in the future.

I have dated black guys but the ones that I dated only saw me as a beautiful woman because of skin complexion.

They wanted someone to have beautiful children with but they did not care about the development of my mind and the experiences that I wanted to have in order to obtain and nurture my intelligence. Very important to me.

I took a break from caring so deeply about my outside appearance because I wanted to know what it felt like to be a woman focused on her mind. Looking back, you don’t have to neglect yourself in order to be intelligent.. You can be intelligent and beautiful at the same time.

So when I saw that this guy was interested in me, I looked at his profile and thought.. I don’t know if this guy is for me.. “He is decent..” I would think even though I was decent..

I took a bite of the fruit..

Instantly, his interest was proven because we decided to see each other immediately that week. I saw him maybe a day after the first match.. I was not disappointed.. He was actually way more attractive in person.

I couldn’t help myself but to want more and other things spiritually were going on that led me to believe there was something deeper going on about this situation..

For instance, before him I was having menstrual issues but after I was intimate with him for the first time.. I was able to bleed. I’m calling it “the Introduction to Berry”

We did not keep in touch because he was a busy guy and swore up and down that “I don’t want to be in a relationship.. I just want to experience you..”

I was not hurt by that because my focus was really on building myself up.. I was just lonely and wanted someone to enjoy life with.. but we went back and forth about that situation until I decided to block and discontinue talking to him for a while.

What is berry to you? I think of Tupac’s song Keep Your Head Up which speak of the still occurring troubles women face in black love.

Still today, some black women are battling to be loved and respected by black men.. Welfare, baby daddy and baby mama issues, failure to progress into marriages.. Still today..

After not speaking with that guy, I didn’t have any experiences with anyone else either.. I wasn’t in a good space though I tried. My insecurities around neglecting myself caused me to no longer seek men out or out myself out there.

Other men I dealt with did not treat me at all.. All of a sudden I began to struggle with getting actual dates.. I didn’t go on a date with him either but at least I was enjoying his company. He was a gentleman..

It wasn’t until the month of October 2024 that we reconnected and because of his interest in me again. I was surprised to even see him like me after our argument.. But I was happy to see the message.

“You still remember me?”

“Of course I did..” He said.. “How could I forget my fire..?”

It didn’t take us too long to meet again..

I remember when I asked the Lord to not allow it to be too late for me to cry about something.. This time when we were intimate.. I was just shocked… This guy really told me to take off everything.. I was going to wear my dress..

To cover the stretch marks, the fat, the hair.. Everything.. I know he knows it.. but he told me to take everything off..

He didn’t appreciate it all that day.. but.. I have a feeling that there will come a time that he will because my spirit began to cry and wail..

Usually when you cry the tone is of one tone.. Unless the pain or pleasure is deep..

That day, I heard multiple cries and the tears actually fell down my face.. He didn’t even do his BIG one yet! Most importantly, when I tried to move him away from me.. He stood right in place.

“The long way..?”

“The long way..”

I began to question.. If he could love me like this and I’m only olive.. What was he giving to the other woman that he told me he experienced with the dark skin, dark hair, and dark eyes?

The deepest berry..

I believe in love to get the best of you, these men will pick and probe at all your issues..

All I can say is.. Let him make you cry.. Let him fix it like he usually does.. Experience intimacy like you said you wanted.. Dark and brown skin.. You are the deepest berry.

Allow yourself to be.

[izzytown]

okay so i had a request to redo my “the fellowship reacts to starbucks” post but with the company (and since this is my niche now, i’m here to provide!)

the premise is mostly the same as the other post, just my silly little headcanons on what the characters would drink at starbucks. i now present to you “the company reacts to starbucks coffee” (part 1/2)

i adore the hobbit, but even though I’ve read the book (and watched the films) a fair number of times, i’m much more well-versed with LOTR characters than i am with those from the hobbit, so bear with me.

note: will not be including gandalf as i’ve already included him in the fellowship’s post - pop over there if you’re curious!

thorin: the grumpy-ass prince himself need not trifle with complicated orders when going to the bux. in fact, i propose he only goes if he’s DRAGGED by his arms and legs by fili and kili during babysitting duty—he gets a dark roast pourover, regardless of what roast is brewed, just because he “respects coffee craft.” you will find him rolling his eyes whenever a frap is ordered, silently mumbling about how his local coffee shop under the lonely mountain is WAY better.

fili: the quieter, more thoughtful sibling, fili is hit or miss on caffeine. if he’s looking for something pretty caffeinated with flavor, i think he goes for an iced brown sugar, toffee nut latte. not too sweet, but very flavorful (just like his personality). if he ain’t feeling a lot of caffeine, he probably gets an iced black tea to have something to sip on while supervising kili's shenanigans. also, he gets a cheese danish as a little snack, it’s canon-

kili: this man is on crack. he’s a kid in a candy store when he walks into starbucks- first off, he gets a birthday cake pop EVERY time without fail (much to thorin’s bank account’s dismay). he’s okay with caffeine, but the taste of coffee is a little much for him, so he cycles through a strawberry açaí lemonade, a vanilla bean frap, a chocolate cookie crumble frap, or an iced chai with cold foam and caramel drizzle. just gallons of pure sugar in a 16oz “coffee” for this guy!

oin: now i know very little about oin, but what I do know is that he seems like he doesn’t give two shits about anyone (respectfully). to me, that sounds like someone who drinks an insane amount of espresso and could care less how long it takes to pull 8 shots. therefore, I propose he drinks a 6-8 shot espresso over ice in a venti cup, with a light splash of cream. the pedro pascal special!

gloin: dark roast is the only acceptable roast of coffee in gloin’s household, how else would gimli acquire his profound appreciation for coffee? gloin tends to go for heavier, powerful drinks, contrasting gimli’s love of a good 'ol cappuccino. gloin’s go-to if there’s no dark roast available is probably a hot black americano with a couple packets of raw sugar, keeping it classic while wanting a drink that packs a punch.

ori: this is the sweetest dwarf you ever did see, and i think his drinks reflect that. not only does he give the vibe of someone who doesn’t drink anything too caffeinated, but he also seems like he has drinks for every season. he’s happy to have a nice chai latte in the autumn, a decaf peppermint white mocha for winter, a peach tranquility tea with two honey packets during the spring, and probably a passion tea lemonade (sweetened with liquid cane) during the summer.

dori: he so slays. dori seems like a mom friend to me, rolling his eyes and being a responsible part of the company, so i’m gonna make the executive decision and say he probably gets a typical “mom” drink, which to me is an iced mocha (or black and white mocha) w/ no whip. or maybe a honey citrus mint tea if he’s feeling sick, trying to cut back on sugar (as if it’s any better for you Lmao)

part 2 is available here

[onward--upward]

What flavor of Ben and Jerry’s do you think is Buck’s and Eddie’s favorite, respectively?

wonderful question, let’s do this! (i had to look up a list of flavours because i’m boring and i always get the same thing sldjdlk)

i don’t know if it’s because of Certified Vegan Oliver Stark, but i feel like i can see buck being a cherry garcia guy!! like, it’s ice cream, but it has cherries in it so he can pretend it’s a little bit healthy <3

now eddie. eddie diaz my beloved. i feel like eddie goes for like, something super decadent. like, caramel chocolate cheesecake flavour. he pretends he’s not obsessed w it because he’s trying to model healthy eating for chris or whatever but secretly he has a stash hidden away and he indulges when chris is asleep (or “out of town” like the busy 13 year old he is sldjldlk)

[writemekpop]

Get Hitched | Lee Donghyuck (Haechan)

Pairing: Lee Donghyuck (Haechan) x Reader

Summary: You ask your ex Haechan to help you buy a wedding cake. It won't be awkward... right?

Genre: Ex-fiancee!Haechan, Fluff

Word Count: 1.6k

Gif: @baekonbaek​

It was 6pm, and you and Haechan were the last ones left in the high school staff room.

“Hey, Haechan?” You slung on your sidebag. 

“Y/n?” Your fellow English teacher and closest friend flashed you a dazzling smile. His long, chocolate lashes brushed against his circle glasses.

 Your throat went tight. After everything you’d done to him, Haechan still had a smile for you.  

“So, imagine that you were in charge of choosing your friend’s wedding cake. Only… you knew nothing about baking.” You put on your cutest puppy-eyes. 

Haechan’s smirked. “This is all hypothetical, of course.”

“Right! Hypothetically… the wedding was in three days, and all these words were being thrown around like ‘ganache’ and ‘marzipan’ and you were kinda freaking out! And… I hope you know this is not hypothetical by now!” 

You had to steady yourself on a locker. 

Haechan crossed his arms, pouting. “First, breathe – you’re not breathing,” he ordered.

You reminded yourself to suck in air.

“Then, hypothetically, I would be happy to come and pick a cake for you,” Haechan allowed.  

“Yes!” Unthinkingly, you jumped up, and hugged Haechan tight. His body was solid and comforting under your grasp. You realised you were inhaling the scent of his woollen jumper – and quickly flinched back. 

“Sorry, – uh – I wasn’t thinking,” you apologised, eyes looking anywhere but at him. 

Haechan placed his hands firmly on your arms, and looked you in the eye. “Y/n, it’s fine. You don’t have to protect me. I’m over it.” His caramel voice was steady, but you felt his fingers trembling. 

Your eyes were wide. “Yes, me too. What happened between us is like, ancient history.”

But then, your eyes flickered over to the place in the hallway that had haunted you for three months. Just there, in front of your English classroom, you broke a heart. 

That was where Haechan had proposed. 

You saw him kneeling there clear as day, eyes shining, not caring that half the school was watching him. 

You knew you should’ve just smiled, or said ‘maybe’, but you were too scared. Scared of tying your whole life down to one man when you couldn’t even pick a breakfast cereal. 

When your boyfriend Haechan pulled off his glasses and asked, triumphantly, “Will you marry me?”, all you could say was, “I’m sorry.”

The students’ low, shameful ‘ooh’ echoed in your ears till you wanted to cry. 

“Y/n! You okay?” Haechan was staring at you, hard. You hadn’t realised that you’d zoned out. 

“Yeah, sorry. It’s totally normal for two colleagues to help each other out, right? At the weekend?” 

“Yes, exactly, Y/n! It is.” 

----

Three days later you were in Haechan’s car, singing along to Mariah Carey on your way to the bakery. 

“I owe you for this like, forever, Haechan. Anyway, it should be simple. In and out.” You grinned.

You were struggling to distract yourself from how at home you felt in Haechan’s car. Of course, this was the place you’d lost your virginity. Even the smell of his pine air freshener made your heart flutter.

As you entered ‘MAMA’S EATS RESTO-BAKERY’, you were just glad you’d have something to distract you from the warm feeling you still got when Haechan looked at you. 

The woman behind the counter gave you a warm smile. All around you, people were chewing on cakes on café-style tables. 

“Hi,” you began. “We’re here for a wedding cake tasting?” 

That was when you realised you had no hope of forgetting the past. No hope at all. 

Because, suddenly, everyone around you began applauding. Dozens of smiling faces shone on your mortified ones. 

The counter girl stood up. “Congratulations! Can I get a cheer for the happy couple?” The café erupted with whoops. 

You glanced at Haechan, and mouthed, I’m sorry. 

“No, um, you’ve got this wrong. W-we’re not getting married,” you insisted. Your cheeks were burning.

The woman paused, a fistful of heart-shaped confetti frozen in her hand. “So you’re not here for a wedding cake?”

“No, I mean, yes, we are, it’s just we’re” – you pointed to Haechan – “not the ones getting married.” Your heart raced like thunder in your ears. 

“Look, if it’s not a wedding, you don’t get fifty percent off.”

Just then, a woman wearing a ‘manager’ badge pushed towards you. “I’m sorry for the disturbance, guys. Are you getting married, or not?” 

Just as you prepared to release a stream of complaints, you felt a hand slide around your waist. 

Your mouth popped open.  

It was Haechan’s. And he was suddenly talking. “I’m afraid this employee has been harassing my fiancée and me. We’re here to choose our wedding cake… I believe this comes with a discount?” 

Haechan was wearing the perfect expression; his silky eyebrows pulled together as if to say: kids these days. You couldn’t believe your eyes. You couldn’t focus on anything except his warm hand squeezing your waist. 

“Of course. Follow me, lovebirds!” The manager gestured for you to go into a separate room attached to the store. 

Just before you entered, Haechan grabbed your hand. Your heart froze. 

“Here.” Haechan slipped off one of his rings, and slid it on your fourth finger. “We need to look the part.” 

When you stared back at him, you were chewing your lip. “You don’t have to do this, Haechan.” 

“Look. You want the discount. Isn’t this what friends do?” 

You frowned “R…ight. Friends.”  

Once Haechan had chosen a cake – coffee and something – you were ready to just run out of the place. 

But, of course, the helpful staff were not willing to allow that. 

“As part of our special wedding package, you can take a photo with our Instagram wall! Share and hashtag, please!” 

When you saw the wall in question, your mouth fell open. It was crammed with photos of couples… kissing on the mouth. Every single one of them. You scoffed, but you pulse was faster than ever. 

“We’d love a photo!” Haechan gave them that mind-blowing smirk, handing over his iPhone. “Would you take it for us?”

You shook your head furiously, but Haechan tugged you over. “We’re nearly out,” he whispered in your ear. A shiver ran down your spine. 

“Okay, pose!” The manager looked way too enthusiastic about this photoshoot. 

Cautiously, you wrapped your hand around Haechan’s shoulder and put on a grimace. 

Photo taken, you rushed to the exit. 

You were so nearly out… when the manager shouted, “You can do better than that! What about a kiss?”

Every eye on the café was suddenly focused on you. Cheers and whistles swelled through the room. You thought you might faint. “No, I think we’re fine with the last one…” you protested. 

However, the unstoppable manager just shook her head. “Don’t be shy! We love couples here at Mama’s Eats.” 

Then, one woman in the café’s corner began to chant, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” 

Quickly, the chant caught on, spreading through the crowd till the bakery’s tiny walls were ringing. You felt like throwing up. Or fainting. Or both. 

The manager pulled the camera to her eyes once more. Lacking any alternative, you leaned forward and pecked Haechan on the cheek. Your lips stung at the contact with his soft skin. 

You should have stopped there. Then, you might’ve had a chance of continuing being friends with Haechan, of forgetting the past. 

But you didn’t. 

Because suddenly, you felt a rush of blood to your face, making you dizzy. 

Almost by accident, you fell forward once more, and your lips pressed onto Haechan’s. At first, he was frozen, then, for an electrifying second, you were kissing. 

Your lips moulded back around Haechan’s effortlessly. 

You didn’t just kiss him - you breathed him in like he was air and you’d been drowning for three months. And Haechan was no less guilty – his hand was sliding up your arm all the time, fingers clinging to the skin he hadn’t touched in so long.

The click of the camera made you spring back. You couldn’t believe only a second had passed – it had felt like hours to you. 

You half-ran out of the bakery, eyes fixed firmly on your shoes. 

Soon, you wished you hadn’t rushed back to his car. It was way too silent in there.

“Coffee cake, huh? Good choice,” you mumbled. 

As he pulled out of the bakery’s car park, Haechan was quiet. 

Then, he blurted out, “I can’t… play it cool.” 

Your stomach flipped. 

Haechan’s voice quivered. “We have to talk about the kiss.”

 “You’re right,” you admitted. You steeled yourself. If you didn’t admit your feelings now, you never would.

Your words were measured. “I don’t know about you, Haechan… but I don’t regret the kiss.” 

You bit your lip. “I miss you, Haechan. Like, all the time. I-I’ve tried to move on, but I can’t help comparing everyone to you!” You half-smile. “And no one measures up.”

You saw Haechan’s knuckles shaking on the steering wheel. “You were the one who said you weren’t ready for commitment… that we were better off as friends. You asked for space, and I have been… killing myself giving it to you.” 

You played with his ring, sliding it up and down your finger. “I know – and I’m grateful. I’m sorry I hurt you, Haechan, I really am.” You took a deep breath. “But sometimes… someone matters enough to you to take a chance. Will you… give me a second chance?”

For a long moment, Haechan didn’t reply. Your heart fell to your shoes. 

As the tears rose up your throat, you listened to Haechan’s breathing relax. 

But then, you felt his hand slip off the steering wheel and hesitantly thread with yours. 

It wasn’t a promise. But it was a start.   

[pascalpanic]

Caffeine Rush: Chapter One / Americano

Javier Peña x f!Reader

Summary: Working a dull December morning shift, you meet a seemingly disgraced DEA agent by the name of Javier Peña.

Warnings: Language, talk of death and canon-typical Narcos violence

W/C: 2.3k

A/N: YOU GUYS i am so excited to share this story with you all!! i fuckin love Javi and coffee so this features my two favorite things! big thanks as always to my beta readers for helping me out- especially with chapter 2 (which i was stuck on for 3 weeks lol). I hope you guys enjoy! this story has some twists I don’t think y’all are gonna see coming ;) I’m planning to update this fic once a week! I just wanted to get chapter one out there :)

previous chapter || next chapter || masterlist

Americano: espresso and hot water; has a similar taste to a brewed coffee, but still darker and more caffeinated thanks to the espresso. 

Work is blissfully slow on weekdays, allowing you to putz along at your own speed. Today, however, is boring as hell. You’d had approximately seven customers since the morning rush, meaning about seven drinks to make. There weren’t even tables to clean, no customers having sat in the cozy coffeeshop. You and your coworker had joked around, swept and mopped, and cleaned the espresso machines twice each. 

At this point, with nothing else to do, you sipped your third peppermint mocha while perched atop two stacked milk crates, leafing through your worn copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a common occurrence when evening rolled around, but rarely so early in the day. Since you were the one on barista duty, Mandy kept watch for customers and allowed you to relax with your book. It was routine for the two of you. She mindlessly fusses with the product wall and the coffee grinder, cleaning everything for the third time.

The door opens and you pop up from your makeshift chair excitedly. The weather is blustery and cold, with heavy snowflakes starting to fall outside the large windows, and the man who enters is pulling his jacket tight around himself. He looks up and you quickly dodge behind the espresso machines before you can make eye contact. It’s instinctual, and you’re unsure why until your brain reminds you of the man’s face. He’s handsome, even though you got maybe a second’s look at him. Dark brown hair and a neatly trimmed mustache, eyes an even darker shade to complement his tanned skin. 

You bite your lip and grab a large ceramic mug, bringing it to the espresso machine. No one would be crazy enough to order a cold drink in this weather. Mandy takes his order and a few seconds later, his receipt pops up through the printer at your end of the shop:

Ticket 114 - 12/3/93

Name: Javier

LG-Redeye

!memo: darkroast

Javier. The name suits the man, you think to yourself and smile as you begin prepping the espresso for his drink. As you walk to Mandy’s station to fill the mug with drip coffee, she smiles and nudges your side. “Isn’t he cute?” She murmurs. You look at the printed ticket then at the coffee warmers: there’s no dark roast. 

“Very,” you giggle a little and fill the mug with light instead. He’s seated in the corner. “I call dibs,” you tease, and Mandy shakes his head. She’s married, but she knows your type, and it’s exactly the man sitting there, staring at a newspaper.

“Yeah, okay,” she shakes her head but smiles at you. “No wedding ring either. I think you should bring his drink to him instead of calling out the order.”

Staring down at the filling mug, you shake your head. “We’ll see,” you chuckle softly and return down to your end of the bar, pouring the two shots of espresso. “Javier?” You call in your barista voice, and the man lifts his head and walks to the bar.

“That’s me,” he says, a small begrudging smile on his face.

“Hi,” you chuckle and hold up the mug. “We’re out of dark roast right now, so I had to use light. Could I put some flavoring or cream or sugar in there for you?” You offer. “Otherwise, I can most definitely make you something else. An americano maybe?”

He pauses for a second. “Yeah, an americano would be great,” he nods. “What kind of flavors… are there?” he asks. 

“Oh, we have a ton,” you say enthusiastically, grabbing the syrup rack and pulling it your way. “Any of these. Hazelnut, vanilla, raspberry,” you smile, rattling off the flavors, “otherwise we also have caramel and any flavor of chocolate.”

Javier raises an eyebrow as he looks at the small display. “Never been somewhere with so many options. Could I do dark chocolate and cream?” He asks, and you nod.

“Of course,” you tell him, dumping the previous mug and grabbing another. “I’ll have that right up for you. You can head back to where you were sitting,” you inform him.

He shakes his head. “I can wait here. Save us both a trip.”

You nod. “Sure,” you say with a smile, prepping more espresso. “The redeye and americano are pretty different in caffeine though, the americano is going to have more since there’s more espresso.”

“I just need as much caffeine as I can get. Tough day ahead,” he nods. 

“I’ve been told bartenders and baristas are wonderful ears to listen,” you offer, a sweet smile on your face.

His guard has fallen like a wrecking ball through a house of cards at the way you smile. “Well, I’m with the DEA.” It feels strange, openly admitting that around here. Colombians weren’t exactly welcoming to American agents, but it felt like citizens around here saw them as some kind of superhero. 

Your eyes light. “Shouldn’t it be a fantastic day for you then?” you ask. “I mean, it’s all over the news. Escobar. Do you know the guys in the photo?” You ask with excitement in your voice.

He nods. Escobar was killed yesterday, and it’s all over the news, including the paper back at his table. “Yeah. The blonde guy in the red shirt is actually my work partner. It’s a tough day because I didn’t get to be there when it happened. I’ve been down in Colombia for years now, and they catch Escobar two days after I leave.”

The smile on your face turns to a frown. “That’s… awful,” you nod, eyes full of sadness for him. “I’m so sorry. At least it must be nice to be home?” you ask, tilting your head slightly and pouring the espresso shots into the mug.

He shakes his head. “D.C. isn’t home. I’m from Texas,” he admits, and the way he speaks finally registers as a slightly slowed speech pattern from the area. “I’m happy for Steve though. The blonde one, my partner. He deserves it. We’ve been down there for… Jesus,” he sighs and looks at the ceiling as he counts the years, “well, a while now. Couple of years. I fucked up, bad. Honestly, I think I’m up here to get fired.” 

You frown slightly as you pump the chocolate into the hot espresso and water, swirling it around with a spoon. “You worked on Escobar for years?” you ask, and Javier nods. “Well, then I personally doubt you’d be getting fired. You guys just caught him, everyone must be in a good mood. I guess it depends on how bad you fucked up,” you shrug as you tap the spoon into the sink and bend down to grab the cream.

“I… do you know who Los Pepes are?” he asks. You shake your head as you stand, pouring some cream into the steaming drink. “Well, they’re a radical group who did some crazy shit to try to weaken Escobar, and I got involved with them. I have a meeting today with the review board.”

You finally make eye contact with him, wincing for him. “Yeah, that doesn’t sound great,” you admit with a chuckle, putting the cream back in the little refrigerator beneath you. 

“It’s not.”

“It’s not necessarily why you got called up here,” you shrug and grab a saucer, putting the mug on top of it and on the bar for him to take.

“Well, I don’t know, I suppose,” he agrees and takes the drink from you.

You shrug. “Best of luck, Javier,” you tell him with a genuine smile of encouragement.

He nods, looking at your name tag attached to your apron. He murmurs your name before looking back up at your face and into your eyes. “Thank you.” He takes his drink and returns to his table, and you sigh and return to your makeshift chair in the corner. 

Mandy pulls up two crates next to you, sitting down across from you with gleaming eyes. “Did it go well? You two talked for a while,” she asks, raising her eyebrows and encouraging you to tell her more.

“A little, but just… how I would with anyone, I guess,” you shrug as you sip your mocha for a moment, drinking the last of the warm coffee. “Not like I got his number or anything.”

“He’s sitting down to drink his coffee. Go offer him a refill when he’s done.”

“That would require me to stare at him, Mandy, and I think he’d notice that,” you shake your head as you stand to make yourself a new drink. 

She stands with you, pushing the crates out of the way. “I’ll keep an eye on him for you. I’ll signal to you when he’s done or getting low on coffee, and you can bring him a refill. How does that sound?” she asks you.

You nod with a sigh. “Since you’re apparently not going to let this go, fine. I will.” 

Mandy claps her hands together excitedly. “Yay!” She sings. “Oh, will you make me a drink while you’re at it? I’ll have a-”

“Skim hazelnut latte with no foam and light whip,” you recite before she can finish her order.

“You’re a babe,” she sings and heads over to clean the tables that haven’t even been touched since she wiped them an hour ago. 

You make her drink and set it aside, then work on your own, fourth coffee. The peppermint and the coffee swirl together deliciously in the air, fitting the weather and the time of year. It’s December, and the snow outside and the warm feeling from the man across the coffee shop contrast in your heart. You sneak glances at him a couple of times, biting your lip to hold back a smile as you admire the handsome face peeking above the newspaper he reads. 

About ten minutes later, you look up from cleaning the machines to see Mandy tucked behind a wall where he can’t see her. She’s frantically waving at you, pointing towards Javier once she catches your attention. Go, she mouths excitedly, beaming at you. 

You wipe your hands on your apron and walk to where she stands. “Fine, I will, but you’re making the drinks if anyone else comes in.”

“Oh no, how will I handle it?” She asks in a deadpan, eyeing the shop that’s empty except for the two of you and Javier. “Go,” she says, giving you a light shove and giggling.

You shake your head but walk over, placing a hand lightly on the table. “Coffee’s looking low. Could I get you a refill?” you offer.

Javier looks up at you, and you feel like turning to jelly as you look into his big brown eyes, filled with confusion but also admiration. He furrows his brow, creating small creases between his eyebrows. “Uh… sure. How much is it?” he asks, reaching for his wallet and setting down the newspaper.

You put a hand on his arm, giving a gentle smile. “You need it. It’s on the shop,” you tell him.

“No, seriously, what, like $5?” he asks, but you put a hand over his. 

“No, Javier,” you chuckle lightly. “Don’t worry about it. Another americano with chocolate and cream?” you ask.

“Uh… make me whatever you like best. And bring one for yourself too.” He says, well, really asks, nodding to the empty chair across from him. “It’s not too busy to talk, is it?”

You swallow hard before you break into a grin. “No, not at all. Uh… do you like peppermint?” you ask. 

“Peppermint is good,” he says, giving you a small smile.

“Perfect,” you smile softly at him, picking up his empty mug and saucer. “We have a peppermint mocha, it’s seasonal. It’s my favorite, I’ll be right back with them,” you say, giggling softly and biting your lip as you turn and walk back to the bar. 

You’re hidden behind the espresso machines as you finally grin and giggle, and Mandy rushes to your side. “Oh my God,” she laughs happily. “He’s so hot. What were you guys talking about?”

“He asked me to sit with him,” you giggle excitedly, preparing four espresso shots. 

She nearly squeals with excitement, grabbing your arm closest to her. You scoop some chocolate chips and pour milk into a pitcher, putting it under the steam wand. “Holy shit. What has he told you so far? What’s his story?”

“Well, he said he’s a DEA agent. He’s on leave from work right now, but the guy in the red shirt in that picture of Escobar after they killed him? That’s his partner,” you tell her, letting the excitement speed your words up. “He’s been in Colombia for a couple of years working on it. Isn’t that cool?” You laugh. 

“So cool,” she nods in agreement. “And he’s so fucking cute. Girl, you need to get your ass back there before I steal him myself.”

You laugh as you pour the shots and then the steamed milk into the mugs. “I’m trying, but you holding onto one of my arms is holding me back, love,” you tease her and she breaks away. You top both mugs with a perfectly peaked whipped cream layer, then sprinkle candy cane pieces and chocolate chips on top. “Wish me luck,” you practically sing as you walk back with a mug for each of you.

Javier’s holding back a grin himself as you make the drinks. He can see your head bobbing along behind the bar, the other woman chatting with you. He’s more transfixed than you than he should allow himself to be, but all fears fade as he sees you approaching with a grin and two large, whipped cream-topped drinks.

You set the drink down in front of him and he smiles at you. “Wow. This…” he looks down at it and smiles a little. “Well, it looks sweet.”

“I have a sweet tooth,” you admit with a soft laugh and sit down, taking a sip and sighing softly. “It tastes like winter. I love it.” He nods and takes a sip too. It’s sweet, but not as bad as he expected. “I added extra espresso to yours,” you tell him, a shy smile on your face. 

“A woman after my own heart,” he chuckles and sets it down, licking the foam off of his mustache. 

You smile a little wider at that and hold back a laugh. “Did you want to talk about the meeting?” you ask him, tilting your head, your expression softening.

Javier’s already falling, and he curses himself as he looks at you. Not a thought except him. He’s already thinking of a sly way to get your number. “No, not really. I just spilled basically my entire life story to you.”

“Then you’ve had a very short and boring life. That was hardly anything. I’ve had customers come in and cry over divorces or lost family members; the whole job situation was mild,” you chuckle and admit, tracing the rim of the mug with your fingertips and staring down at the steaming drink.

“Really? You seem like a therapist and a barista in one,” he teases lightly.

“Well, I did just graduate with a Masters in psychology,” you shrug. “I just graduated with it from Georgetown. That’s why I’m here,” you tell him and look up. “Working here part-time while I decide what I want to do.”

“No shit. I did my undergrad in psych and sociology,” Javier says with a small smile, making your smile grow too. “Texas A&M though. Nothing as prestigious as Georgetown.”

“A&M isn’t anything to sneeze at,” you chuckle as you look over at him. His eyes are deep-set, deeper than they probably normally are. They’re bloodshot and hold bags beneath them. After a breath, you bite your lip and look him in the eye. “You look tired. I don’t know you normally, I understand. Maybe you shouldn’t finish this,” you tell him with a concerned smile, scooting his mug towards you. “Too much caffeine.”

“No, I need it, please,” he says, tugging it back and sipping at it again. “Just… until after this meeting. Then I’ll know what my future holds, then I can rest.”

“What time is it at?”

“5:00.”

There’s a beat of silence. “I don’t have any plans tonight,” you say gently, looking at him with a question in your eyes. “Would you like to get dinner? Talk things out, once you know what your future holds?” You offer, a soft smile and hopeful eyes. “I already know enough about you. This could be practice therapy for me,” you tease softly.

Javier thinks for a second, though he knows what the answer will be. At least pretends to think, surprised that you could hear all he had said about Los Pepes and working in Colombia and that you still offered. “I’d like that,” he nods, his voice soft when he looks at you. “I don’t know the area well. You’ll have to tell me where.”

“Do you have a car up here?” You ask him, and he shakes his head. “I can pick you up,” you offer. “Where are you staying?”

He grabs a napkin and pats his pockets for a pen. You hand him the paint pen tucked on your apron and he quickly thanks you before writing down the address to the hotel. You take the napkin and the pen and grab another napkin. “And this…” you say and write down your phone number, sliding it to him, “is where you’ll call me when you’re ready for me to come get you. Okay?” You ask.

Your voice is so soothing, Javier thinks. More than sleep or reassurance or even a hit of Escobar’s private stash or really anything could be to him right now, it’s a comfort. You must be a miracle, he thinks, some kind of blessing for something he isn’t quite sure of, but he must have done something right in the eyes of the Almighty to be here, right now, talking with you. “You know, I was raised Catholic,” he tells you and leans in a little. “I don’t know that I am anymore. But still… I think you might be an angel in disguise.”

Biting your lip, you giggle and look down. “I don’t know about that,” you chuckle as you look up at him again. “Just… right place, right time, maybe. I’ll see you tonight, okay?” you ask him, placing your hand over his and standing.

Javier nods as he looks up at you. “How should I dress?” he asks and tilts his head. His eyes are so expressive, you notice and smile a bit. They betray exactly what he’s thinking.

“Um… what you’re wearing now would be fine. A button down and jeans would work,” you tell him with a nod, patting his hand and picking up your mug. “I’ll see you then. Good luck,” you tell him with a sweet smile and retreat to the back. Javier can’t say anything in return, just sips his peppermint mocha.

Three minutes later, you return with a muffin. “Eat this. You can’t have all that caffeine and no food.”

“Thanks,” he chuckles and looks down at it. You’re gone when he looks back up, and he breaks off a piece. What a weird day. It’s only about to get weirder.

-

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[taones]

If You Can Hold On Part 3

Part one and two

Pairing: Poly!AsaDaiSuga x gender neutral!reader Or is it?

Notes: PAIN

Warnings: Swearing, arguments, stranger hitting on the reader but they’re chill w/ it

You sniffed as you stirred, pulling the soft fabric underneath your cheek further into you. It smelt like sandalwood with a hint of coffee and it reminded you of how Daichi’s hugs smelt. In fact it was almost exactly the same. The pillow was strangely firm too, almost too firm. Regardless, you snuggled further. 

“Still sleepy huh?” 

Shit.

You shot up, pulling the covers off with you. Daichi shivered in the cold air as his now naked upper torso was exposed to the morning. Looking over, you saw Suga tucked in next to where you had been and Asahi on the other side of Daichi, said man tucked under his arm. It wasn’t odd for Daichi to sleep shirtless, the man ran hot at night, but you couldn’t help the hot flush that took over your face. Asahi smiled softly at you, looking over his reading glasses at your ruffled form. 

“We were gonna get up and grab some breakfast from the diner we passed” he hummed, morning voice sending shivers up your figure. 

“Once we wake sleeping beauty up that is” 

You smiled at Daichi’s comment. At least you could stop thinking about this situation for a second and just get food with them. It was something you had done before most of your big exams. All three of you used to go to the small cafe near the school and get waffles. You could still remember how they had them: Suga had two waffles with caramel and hazelnuts, Asahi had 3 with whipped cream and strawberries and Daichi had 5 with chocolate syrup and chocolate chips. You always got fed some of theirs no matter what you decided to have. Koushi thought it especially funny to boop your nose so whipped cream would stick to your warm skin. 

“Yeah sure,” you smiled “lets go get some waffles”

-

When you got to the diner, it was relatively busy but there were still booths big enough to fit you guys. As always, it was you and Asahi on one side and Suga and Daichi on the other, Asahi trapping you against the wall with his large shoulders. For the first time this trip, you were content. It was the way it used to be. Asahi even stole some of Daichi’s chocolate chips like he used to. 

Snorting was heard from your table as Daichi accidentally laughed so hard that milkshake came out of his nose. The four of you had been telling stories of your highschool days, before everything was confusing and complicated with feeling. The joy was pierced by a vibration that drew all three to their phone. Obviously, it was a groupchat. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was that person they were talking about.

“Ooh, I’m gonna order another drink” you said, asking the boys if they wanted anything.

After you ordered your drink at the counter, you walked up to the counter next to your table that had the sugar and stirrers for the drinks. As you emptied a packet into the steaming coffee that was intended for Suga. A hand settled next to you on the counter.

“Anyone ever told you how gorgeous you are?” a voice mused from next to you.

Turning, you came face to face with a man a little taller than you with dark hair and a nice smile. He was attractive but you couldn’t help thinking he was so plain compared to the current objects of your affection. The glares you could see said men sending towards the man spurred you on. Why would they be mad about this? They had no reason to be. 

Giggling, you looked up at him through your eyelashes. Screw it, if you couldn’t have them then you were at least gonna have fun. 

“Not really” you mused, “why? Are you here to do that?”

The man's smirk returned. He reached behind you, trapping your body slight against the counter, but when he leaned back he had a hand full of napkins. He winked at your flustered form and you couldn’t help but flicker your eyes towards the table which was now...empty?

The hand that was now on your chin pulled your thoughts back to the handsome stranger. The rough pad of his thumb swiped over your cheek bone and he whispered about the chocolate that had been there. Heat flushed to your face as he sucked the sauce off of his thumb. His other hand slipped a piece of paper into your pocket and your mouth opened to say something when you were interrupted. 

A throat cleared behind you and the guy. The looming figure of Daichi, accompanied by his two boyfriends, stood behind you both. You had rarely seen them angry but the glares that were being sent his way even made you shiver. Suga had his fists clenched and even sweet, soft Asahi was looking severely unimpressed with the attempt at flirting with you.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Suga hissed at the poor man, who was now looking about ready to run.

“Sorry” the man stuttered, “I didn’t realise they were taken, I’ll leave i guess”

“Wait, no i’m not-” you started, but he was gone.

You stood, leaning on the counter, absolutely baffled their behaviour. Scoffing, you pulled out your wallet and turned to the lady at the counter, apologising for the small scene that had just occurred. The three men kept trying to catch your attention but you made a point to not spare them a glance while storming towards the car. As they paid you phoned Kiyoko. You were angry to the point of shaking and you knew if anyone could calm you down it was her. 

“Kiyoko, I need you to come get me” 

“Sure, give me 10 minutes, i’m pretty close” she sounded apologetic but you didn’t care.

You just didn’t want to feel alone.

-

After the three men had paid, they walked up to you. Your figure was hunched over and you were sat on the rain soaked curb.  The clear phone case that once had a photo of you four in it was now blank. Said photo had been flipped over because you couldn’t bear to look at what you used to be right now.

“What the fuck was that?” you growled

The men looked shocked. 

“He was flirting with you y/n what do you mean?”

The confusion in Asahi’s voice made a feeling curl inside you like the waffles had suddenly turned rancid. Eyebrows knitted together, you began to yell.

“And just what does that have to do with you three?” you began

“Why do you care who flirts with me and who doesn’t? You have 2 boyfriends each and I know you’re talking to another person who why the fuck does it matter to you if I don’t want to be lonely anymore huh?”

They all looked stunned at your revelation. Their shock didn’t phase you however, you had been sitting on this for too long. Too long had you been suffering in silence while they get to live this happy story that you were only a side character in. 

“God, it hurts so bad. You won’t ever understand how much pain I am in being around you and seeing how happy you’re gonna be with another person. It hurts!” you yelled, tears welling up.

The pain had now unfurled completely in your stomach. It was paralysing, like it was stopping you from running like you so desperately wanted to. It winded you, stealing your ability to keep yelling. Instead, it turned into a resigned whisper. 

“I get that you don’t want me, but why can’t other people? I don’t want to be alone anymore” 

Kiyoko’s tiny blue car pulled up next to you as you broke down crying. A tiny blonde ran out of the car to grab you as you fell, Yachi’s soft cooing distracting you from the three men across from you. Looking up at her, you saw her eyebrows knitted together in sympathy at your curled up figure. This was humiliating. Kiyoko motioned for her to guide you to the car, stepping out of the drivers side and towards Asahi, Daichi and Sugawara. 

Yachi pulled you into the backseat of the car, wrapping a blanket around your shoulders. You saw her eyes flicker to her girlfriend and the guys but you didn’t want to think about that much right now. Instead, you stared blankly at the photo of Yachi and Kiyoko cuddling that was stuck under the mirror. If only you had that. 

The now fuming Kiyoko sat in the driver's seat. Her face was contorted in an anger that was uncommon for the raven haired woman but it flooded into sympathy at the sight of you. Obviously, you looked a mess. In the mirror, you could see tear tracks down your face and your hair was messed up from where you had gripped at the sides of your head in frustration. Yachi stroked your hair one final time before climbing into the passengers' side. 

You stared out the window as she drove off, you could see the figures of the men you had left behind. Asahi was bent over, hands on his knees and Suga rubbing his back. Daichi has his head buried in his arms on top of the car. They had no right to be upset, you thought. You let them escape your mind as their figures turned into tiny dots in the distance. 

The silence was comforting.

AS I SAID, PAIN.

[forever-rogue]

congratulations on your milestone, you deserve the best, patricia! 🥰 could i request prompts 1, 8 and 23 from the fluff and romance section of prompt list 3 with our baby frankie morales? thank you! 🤍

“Tell me again.” & “I’ve loved you for years.” & “It’s always been you.”

Did y’all want some Thursday fluff? Because I have some Thursday fluff! Enjoy!

Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader ; warnings: bi reader, mention of fighting

Frankie Masterlist

»»————-　♡　————-««

You could barely hold back your tears as you knocked on Frankie’s door. You shouldn’t have come, you kept telling yourself, you shouldn’t have bothered to show up and waste his time. It was late, too late for a normal social visit, and hell, he might even have been in bed by now. But you didn’t care, you just needed him, you needed your best friend more than ever.

After a few moments when nothing but silence met your ears, you sighed lightly, dabbing at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater before turning around to leave. You could see him tomorrow or something, or give him a call. But before you could make it off his porch, the door slowly opened and you turned around to find Frankie looking at you with a confused expression. His face fell when he noticed that you’d been crying.

“Bee?” he asked as he held out his hand for you, “what’s wrong? What’s going on, sweet girl?”

You took his hand and let him lead you inside as you just sniffled and tried to pull yourself together. It was hard; as soon as he pulled you in, he wrapped you up in his arms, you felt your emotions overwhelm you as you cried into his chest. Frankie rubbed your back in soothing circles as he whispered soft reassurances into your ear, “I-I’m sorry for showing up unannounced. I probably woke you up and I’m a huge idiot. I-I can go.”

“I was just watching a movie,” he promised, “besides, I’m always here for you. You’re much more important than anything else. Tell me what’s wrong, honey.”

He put his arms on your shoulders and guided you to the kitchen, motioning for you to sit down at the island as he shuffled around and gathered the ingredients for hot chocolate. He always knew that was your favorite thing for a pick me up. He grabbed your favorite mugs from the cabinet and then set them down the counter, a soft expression in his brown eyes. 

“I...remember that girl I had started seeing?” you asked softly, staring at the patterns of the tile on the countertop. Frankie made a small sound and nodded; he hadn’t been her biggest fan, purely because he thought she wasn’t treating you very well...the fact that he was in love with you was a whole other story. Truth be told, you had really liked her - but deep down you knew she would never be Frankie..it would never be the same. But still, you had really liked her before… “she...she was rude, yelled at me-”

“Did she-”

“No,” you cut him off immediately, not wanting him to get the wrong impression, and he visibly relaxed, “it’s just...she gave me an ultimatum, and it just wasn’t fair, and I told her that and she freaked out and screamed and I had to leave. I just...I did like her a lot Frankie, but I feel like a fool for even letting things get this far with her.”

“What was the ultimatum?” he asked softly as he tended to the milk, making sure it was hot enough before he poured the hot chocolate mix in. Salted Caramel hot chocolate - your favorite that he always kept on hand. You sucked in a breath as you tried to figure out if you should tell him or not, or make up some sort of excuse. You could just do it now...get it over with and let the chips fall where they may. He noted your hesitation and silence, finishing off the drinks with whipped cream as he waited for you to go on, and didn’t want to push you. 

“Umm...basically…” you took the mug he pushed towards you and stared at the soft cream, taking some on your finger and licking it off. You were going to do it. Fuck, you’d been wanting to do it for years. Maybe this was it - a sign that it was all coming together, “she said I needed to choose between her and...you.”

“What?” he paused with his mug halfway to his lips as he stared at you in surprise. You cleared your throat awkwardly before nodding, wishing it was easier to interpret his expression, “she asked...you to choose?”

“Yup,” you laughed lightly, willing yourself to be brave, deciding you needed to be brave, “and I told her that it was unfair and I would never make that decision. She said...she said you would get in the way, that it was clear we were more than friends. So she said it was her or you, and I said that if I had to actually choose, it would be you every time.”

“You told her that?” he asked incredulously as you just nodded, your heart pounding nervously as you watched him closely, “w-why…?”

“You know why,” you pushed him with a small little laugh, one of nerves and excitement, “you know why. It’s always been you. I-I think it will always be you. Frankie, I-”

“I’ve loved you for years,” he cut you off before you could make your own confession. Your mouth dropped slightly before a small smile tugged on the corners of your mouth. He seemed just as nervous as you did, and yet suddenly...everything felt so right. So calm and peaceful and light; like this was always meant to happen. When he noticed your expression, he raised his eyebrows, “I hope...I hope I’m not reading things incorrectly.”

“Tell me again,” you asked softly as he nodded, “please...I just really want to hear it again and make sure I’m not dreaming.”

“I’m in love with you, sweet girl,” he repeated as you slid off the stool and moved around the corner to meet him halfway. He instantly reached for your face, gently tracing over your features with his fingers, a delicate and gentle touch, “I have been for a long time. I’ve loved you for years. I just...never thought you would..love me back.”

“Of course I do, Francisco,” you grinned at him, putting your hands on wrists and holding onto him, “it’s always been you that I’ve loved. I just...thought we were friends.”

“Just friends don’t do half the shit we do,” he joked as you laughed; both of you had always known, deep down anyway, that you were never just friends, “guess we were just dummies, huh?”

“Mhmm,” you grinned as you leaned in close and breathed him in. You were so close to kissing him, finally, and your whole body felt electric with anticipation, “Frankie?”

“Yes, sweet girl?”

“Will you kiss me now?” you could feel the brush of his lips against yours, as you grinned at each other like lovestruck fools, “finally?”

“If I start I don’t know if I’ll be able to stop…”

“I’m counting on that,” you whispered softly, “I love you, Frankie. You and only you.”

“I love you too, sweet girl. Always.”

»»————-　♡　————-««

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[skiyoosmi]

— caramel frappucino | 23

marga’s notes. and lemme welcome you all to (hopefully) the final arc of this smau;;; i feel like i had to write this short fic so that you can all see the start of the development of their love story so please pardon me, the usual texts will be back soon!!

♪ CHAPTER PLAYLIST ♪

winter bear by v // promise covered by sierra eagleson  

previous | masterlist | next

 “You’ve been literally staring at me the moment I entered the room and that was two hours ago. Can you stop it?” you hissed at the black-haired lad beside you, eyes still on your oblivious professor who was busy writing his life away on the whiteboard in front. Sakusa merely shrugged, making you huff at his indifference. You will never understand this boy no matter how hard you try to, honestly.

“You look like a dead person who came back alive just to go to class,” he replied as he finally decided he had enough of looking at your exhausted wellbeing and proceeded to jutting down notes on his limelight notebook.

“Gee, thanks for calling me a zombie, you mutt,” you grumbled, following his actions when your professor finally began his tedious discussion.

Kuroo’s words echoed in his mind as he recalled the moment they stumbled upon the hallway before going to their own classes, “she called me last night, hiccupping and sniffling because the boy she loved from kindergarten to high school… you know Iwaizumi? Yeah… apparently they loved each other before… by the way, yeah, she was in love with her best friend…. but don’t worry now, she got over him already so it’s too late for him… such a shame honestly… plus you’re here now so try to make her happy today, yeah?”

He has never been the type to care about other people’s backstories; he found them too complicated to understand or for most of the times, he just didn’t have the interest to do so. But for some reason, stumbling upon you in that café when you spilled your favorite drink on him changed a lot of things in him… not that he’ll let you know that, of course.

Seeing you trudge into the classroom with your shoulders slumped, he felt a hard tug in his heart as if it was screaming at him to see if you were alright. As soon as you plopped down your seat beside him, he noticed the bags under your already-swollen eyes that seemed darker than usual.

The eyes that usually sparkles and shines whenever you look at him is absent, melancholy and guilt swimming in them instead. Your cheery morning greeting replaced with a rather forced smile. Since when did he become so observant of you? He didn’t know himself.

“You know… if you loved him that much, you shouldn’t have rejected him, right?” he spoke up after the bell rang, signaling that it was the end of your class. Other students lined up by the doorway, ushering others to speed up since your next class is not until the afternoon – one of the main reasons you loved Mondays, unlike high school students.

You gaped at him, wondering how in the world did he find out, at least not until your cousin’s mischievous and very much annoying face popped up your mind, mocking you as he cackled. Damn you, Tetsurou.

“I… I don’t love him that way anymore,” you quietly replied, shaking your head as you both gathered your things before heading towards the now-empty doorway. He scoffed quietly at your pathetic attempt of a response; did she not try looking at the mirror before going to school?

“Then why do you look like that?”

For yet another unknown reason, he found himself feeling annoyed and hurt as he scanned your face. Why would you look so depressed if you didn’t love that Iwaizumi anymore? He doesn’t understand one bit. Before you could reply though, the face of Oikawa Tooru appeared in front of you both, chocolate eyes sparkling at the sight of you.

“[Y/N]-chan, my lovely baby! There you are, we’ve been looking all over for you,” he told you loudly, excitement very much evident in his voice as he did so while you only winced. As if on cue, your other best friend appeared behind him, hands deep in his pocket… just like yesterday as he gave you a tightlipped smile. Sakusa felt you stiffen beside him and soon, the air was filled with awkwardness that even Oikawa felt it.

“Now, now. What’s with this unfamiliarity I feel in the air? Let’s eat together,” the ex-captain of Seijoh exclaimed as he began pulling you with your hand. You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out, not finding it in your heart to break Tooru’s enthusiasm. Much to your relief though, Sakusa beat you into it, stopping the brunet from pulling you further.

“She’s eating with me… starting today and the following days,” he declared, this time pulling you in the other direction while the duo stood still. Iwaizumi was the first to snap out of his thoughts, smiling genuinely as he watched the two of you bicker until your figures become dots in his vision. I’m glad you’re doing what I asked of you, [Y/N].

“HAH?! Is… is he stealing my baby from me?! How dare he?!” Oikawa screamed in disbelief, hands going in different directions while at the same time, gathering the attention of the other students who just looked at him weirdly. Hajime just sighed and began to walk, leaving the brunet in the middle of the hallway.

“Iwa-chan, not you too! Don’t leave!”

“Stop! Wait! You giant with long legs, stop!” you panted, glaring at Sakusa who finally decided it would be nice to stop walking. You grumbled incoherent words before pointing at him.

“You! How dare you decide who I get to eat with. I will go with people I like to eat with!” you exclaimed, huffing and crossing your arms while he stared at you with slight amusement. Well, at least you think so since you couldn’t really see anything aside from his eyes that were not covered by the face mask he regularly wears.

“Don’t you like me though?”

You blinked a few times at him, trying to recall if you heard him correctly. With an eyebrow raised, he lightly poked you on your cheek with a finger, pulling you back from your thoughts. Soon, your face became red as you tried to stutter out a reply but to no avail, you couldn’t stop he fast beating of your heart that almost feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. What? What the hell?!

“W-wha… What are you saying, baka?!” you shrieked when he was about three feet away from you. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk when he pulled down his face mask and shrug as you began running after him.

[cemeteryrocks900]

Lunch @ 1:30pm: f3@r f00d!!:

burger with Swiss cheese

About 1/2 cup carrots with 1 tbs ranch

I will only ever eat a small amount of ranch with carrots, otherwise, I hate ranch

Snack @ 2:45pm:

apples with caramel, cinnamon and a little bit of chocolate syrup bc I wanted to know how it tasted (not great I’ve learned)

Dinner @ 6pm:

Buffalo chicken and cheese

I call this a poverty chicken wrap, we were out of lettuce, sour cream, literally everything

1/2 carrots w/ 1tbs ranch

I ended up only eating a little bit of the wrap bc I realized I kinda hate chicken? I used to love it but up until I came home and started recovery but I got ONE piece of the grilled chicken that tasted like shite and looked a little pink even thought the chicken came pre cooked, I was still paranoid so I pushed the whole thing away

Dessert @ 7:30ish:

Chocolate lava cake baked oats!!!

My boyfriend was over today so we made them together, he’s not a big chocolate fan so the chocolate made him sick, so I did something I thought I would never do… I ate some of his too!!! He got the good one that had a lot of extra chocolate which was the one that should’ve been mine but how could you tell lol, but they were pretty good, I can share the recipe if anyone wants it :)

How I’m feeling now?:

I feel full of guilt, really upset with myself, my bloating making me look actually 4-5 months pregnant… I would show you guys so you have an idea and so you know I’m not over exaggerating but I don’t want to post that kind of stuff, AND I’m a minor and don’t want my picture used as a reason to not recover, because recovery is good!! But the process is very annoying with the bloating

I feel so bad about myself all the time and feel like my stomach is the worst thing in the world

Anyway, tell me about your day, how are you? How have you been? Have you had a good or bad day today? Tell me about it, anon or not <3 I want to hear about you guys

[myheroacademiashorts]

i think i’m in love w his blog 🥺💞 (1) how about a scenario during UA where bakugou ends up coincidentally wearing a coat that looks almost identical to that of his fem!crush. she’s more nonchalant about it and like “hey! we’re matching!” with this adorable little grin on her face that makes him blush almost imperceptibly, which his friends tease him for mercilessly—

(2) sometimes they end up accidentally swapping coats and although he’d never admit it, seeing her in his slightly larger coat with a sheepish smile on her face is completely worth the embarrassment of his friends. he’d take this to the grave, but he may or may not leave his coat around on purpose from that point on just to see her in his clothes and pretend they were together. and tho she might not admit it, she likes the sweet smell that lingers bcuz she has a not-so-little crush on him too?

Hiya! Thanks for the request... Soooo I sorta needed to split it up. I have ideas for this fic. ;) ... And I also kind strayed from the original request. I’m sorry! /)-(\ Here is part one!

Title: One Size Too Big (Part 1)

Pairing: Bakugou x Reader

Rating: Fluff, sorta angst?

Words: 3,456

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You had never been a fan of the cold, and this was further proven as you were forced to trudge from class to the dorms. You groaned to yourself, shivering despite the jacket and other layers you had on as a particularly strong gust of wind swept by. “Wow, it’s pretty chilly!” Uraraka sounded happy, and you shot her a glare as she stared up at the gloomy sky with a smile, mittened hands cupped together. “I know, and I hate it.” You grumbled, only earning another bell-like laugh from your bubbly friend.

“Oh, it’s not that bad!”

“I can barely feel my fingertips.”

She rolled her eyes at you, tugging one of your cold hands from the pocket of your coat and enveloping it in her own. Somehow, she was warm, and before you could ask her what her secret was, she was dragging you across the frost-covered school grounds, her giggling rising up with every complaint that escaped from your lips. “If we run, we’ll get back faster!” She said, and you weren’t able to argue back due to the heavy chattering of your teeth.

However, she had been right, and a minute later you were standing in front of your dorm building. Uraraka looked unfazed, her smile still glued to her face, while you looked like you had gone through hell; your hair was a mess of tangles, cheeks red from the cold and running, and a slight shiver clinging to your body as you forced your way inside. “Ta-da! That wasn’t so bad, right?” You settled with a playful glare in your friend’s direction, deciding to stay silent.

Uraraka had wanted to study in the library after class, and like the good friend you were, you followed. You hadn’t expected the weather to become worse, and didn’t realize it had done so until the two of you had stepped outside after hours of studying. The rest of your classmates were already inside, most of them in the living room and kitchen where the heater worked the strongest. Even stepping inside you could feel the difference in temperature from outside, and quickly stripped of your jacket before becoming too warm. You let your eyes stray to them, from the few goofing off in the kitchen while making hot chocolate to the group planted in the other room, a video game screaming at them from the television screen. Bakugou was on the couch, arms stretched over the top cushions and a bored expression on his handsome face as he stared at his friends blankly. It was then that you noticed a familiar article of clothing on the blonde boy.

“Hey, we match!”

At the sound of your voice, Bakugou’s attention was immediately on you, not understanding who you were speaking to at first. Then, his eyes drifted from your bright (E/C) gaze and goofy grin down to your extended arms, where an eerily familiar jacket hung from your frame. His brows furrowed for a moment, before letting his eyes dart from his own body back to yours, mouth agape in surprise. “We’re like twins! Or couple-matching!” You continued, laughing slightly at the comparison between you and the hotheaded boy as two identical sweatshirts were on both of you; sliced right down the center, the left black and the right bright orange with an x-eyed happy face decorating the back of it. You even turned around to show it off further, and Bakugou nearly choked on his own air as the realization sat in. Holy crap, they were the same. Yours, of course, was just a bit tighter since your frame was smaller than his own, but that didn’t stop Bakugou from continuously letting his eyes rake over you.

Your other classmates swarmed you before you could add on any further, pulling you towards the kitchen as they begged you to make them your infamous hot cocoa, and with a short laugh you let them drag you. You stripped yourself of the sweatshirt first, setting it aside on a lone chair before getting to work. Bakugou’s attention on you, however, stayed steady even without you noticing, eyes wide and mouth still hanging open slightly. Your teasing replied in his mind, and finally he forced his jaw shut, teeth clenched as he fought the blush rising up his cheeks to no avail. His right-hand man noticed his expression, toothy grin already placed before he could speak. “What’s got you frazzled, bro?” Kiri asked, and Bakugou immediately controlled himself, instead shooting a glare towards his friend. “Shut the fuck up, Shitty Hair. I’m not frazzled.” He muttered, and he let his eyes stray back to the kitchen when your familiar laugh rose up. Kiri caught the look.

“Oooh, is Bakugou frazzled?” Mina’s voice floated in as she plopped into the empty space on the other side of Bakugou, a knowing grin on her face as she wiggled her eyebrows. At this point, all of Bakugou’s friends had their attention on him, and he felt his face redden. Not entirely from embarrassment, although part of it was, but also from frustration. “I’M NOT ‘FRAZZLED’, ASSHOLES!” As if to prove his point, he sat upright to yank the cursed sweatshirt up and off of his body, cheeks bright as he avoided their gazes.

A few beats of silence passed, his friends trying to smother their teasing giggles to not anger him further. Instead, Bakugou abruptly stood up, fists clenched as he stared down at his giggling friends coldly. “I’m going to bed.” He muttered, and none of his friends mentioned that it was only 6 o’clock in the evening as he stalked off upstairs. You popped your head from the kitchen, eyes finding the troublesome group in the living room with an innocent smile. “Everything okay?” You asked in a soft voice, missing the mischievous looks that Kaminari and Sero exchanged to one another.

Oh, they were going to have fun with this.

-----------------------------------------------

The next day, you were found scurrying through the kitchen by none other than Kirishima himself.

He heard the clatter of pans first, then your frantic footsteps soon after. He peeked his head out from the bottom of the stairs, looking past the wall to see you scrambling for… well, something. He wasn’t quite sure what. “Hey, you alright?”

You jumped at the unexpected bright voice, but quickly relaxed after spotting the redhead as he emerged closed to you. “Kiri! Jeez, you almost scared the quirk out of me.” You pressed a hand to your heart as you laughed, an easy smile flitting to your lips. “I’m fine, but I forgot my sweater down here and can’t find it. Do you remember if you’ve seen it recently?”

Kiri’s brows rose, a strangely secretive smile on his lips as he recollected the actions of the night before. His friends had filled him in on their plans to shove you and Bakugou together, and he was more than happy to help. It was better than hearing Bakugou pretending to complain about you. “Actually, yeah!” He practically bounced to the couch, where Bakugou’s familiar sweatshirt still sat from the night before, long forgotten by the fiery blonde. He hoped you wouldn’t notice the faint scent of cologne and caramel lingering on the piece of clothing.

“Someone probably moved it, but here you go!” He thrusted it into your hands, and you sighed in relief as you grasped the sweatshirt. It was a bit cool from sitting out, but you didn’t pay attention to it as you instead shuffled it on, wiggling your arms into the sweater with a satisfied noise. The plush inside immediately calmed you, but there was something different about it… Were the sleeves always this long? And the hem? Maybe someone had accidentally stretched it out? And when did it start smelling like caramel?

You turned to grin at Kiri in thanks, picking up your backpack and swinging it over your shoulder. “You’re a lifesaver, Kiri. I was worried I’d have to freeze out there.”

“No problem! Want to head to class together?”

You and Kiri had always gotten along, both of your personalities being particularly bubbly and bright as you chatted during the short walk to class. However, he had broken off as soon as you found yourself standing in front of the 1-A door, mumbling something about an errand to run before turning and high-tailing it down the hallway.

You shoved the door open, grunting slightly at its heavy weight as you slid inside of the familiar classroom. The chatter continued as you sneaked in, Uraraka brightening when she noticed you. “Y/N!” Her melodic voice rang out, beckoning you forward as she stayed perched on top of her desk. “I still can’t forget about that hot chocolate from last night. It was so good!” Uraraka looked as if she were about to drool over the mere imagination of the rich beverage, moving her gaze to instead stare off at the wall mindlessly. You dropped your backpack onto the empty desk beside hers as she continued. “Man, if I could make hot chocolate like you, I’d make it all the time. I’d drink it every day! All year long!”

You laughed at her small obsession, and she seemed to want to continue monologuing before being cut off by the door slamming open. It banged against the wall, and in trudged the little gremlin everyone had become so accustomed to during their time at U.A. He kept his glare on the ground as he entered, muttering some curses under his breath for an unknown reason, before finally lifting his gaze upwards. “What the hell are you looking at-?”

And then Bakugou Katsuki’s eyes landed on you, and he froze.

Almost on instinct, you mimicked his action, eyes wide as you waited for his next move. In the short years you have attended the school with the blonde, he had never just… Stopped. And why was he staring at you so blankly?

Bakugou, however, had way too many things flitting through his mind to even think about doing anything else than just freezing mid-sentence. Holy fuck, is that my sweatshirt? I was wondering where the damned thing went. Why is she wearing it? God, it looks fucking hot on her. The last thought had a faint redness rising to his cheeks, more prominent on his ears as he tried to cover his expression with one hand and biting down on his lip to keep his jaw from dropping. Fuck. FuckfuckfuckfuckFUCK. The words were a mantra in his head, constantly repeating until he felt a soft hand wrap around the wrist hiding his embarrassed expression.

“Bakugou? Are you okay?” For a moment, he hated how soft and sweet your voice was. It just wanted to make the hard-headed boy melt to the floor. You were close enough that he could smell you; old and new books, perfume, even the faint scent of your shampoo. And you weren’t loosening your grip on him. Instead, you were tightening it, and tugging at his arm in a weak attempt for him to drop it from his flustered face. Meanwhile, the rest of the class was quiet, shocked at what they were seeing from the infamous, easily-riled pomeranian in front of them. You didn’t even seem to notice, instead leaving his arm to instead press your palm on the exposed skin of his forehead. He couldn’t see your expression, but based on how much he watched you without your knowledge, he could guess that you were frowning.

You were, by the way.

“Your face feels hot! Let’s go to Recovery Girl, maybe you have a fever?” Your voice held a slight edge of panic, not noticeable to most but making Uraraka quirk her brow in curiosity. Of course, she also knew about your not-so-little crush on the guy.

She waved her hand, breaking the awaiting tension that filled the air. “Go ahead and take him, Y/N! I’ll let Aizawa know what happened!” You didn’t look at your friend as you nodded and, grabbing Bakugou’s free arm - he was still covering his face with the other - you dutifully yanked him down the hallway and towards the healing Pro-Hero.

It wasn’t until the two of you had successfully left the immediate area that Aizawa, who had been secretly napping underneath his desk, finally crawled out of his sleeping back with a grumpy expression. He didn’t say anything -  just scanned the classroom knowingly - before huffing slightly and returning to the floor, waiting for the final bell to ring before beginning class. Luckily, he still had a handful of minutes left.

-----------------------------------------------

“You can drop your arm now, you know.” You grumbled, after walking in complete silence for a few steps too many. All you could think about was how he was acting like a girl from a damned shojo manga. He stayed quiet, keeping his large palm over his face dutifully, and you reached up to tug at the offending wrist until finally his hand landed at his side.

Then, you stared.

If you thought a quiet Bakugou was rare, nothing could prepare you for a blushing one; flawless skin erupting with a dark blush, ruby eyes lowered, and - was he biting his lip? Even his ears were scarlet. You stuttered for a moment, mind blanking on what you had been prepared to say, and instead stood there gaping like a fish out of water. His gaze shifted towards you, and your heart nearly stopped.

“What are you looking at? Dumbass…” Despite his harsh words, his tone was full of embarrassment, and he quickly shifted his attention elsewhere. You were still clutching to his arm and, as if it had become scalding hot, you dropped it. However, you didn’t move away. Instead, you chose to stand a little closer than you usually would to the hotheaded boy, peering up at him as if he were a quizzical math problem. It seemed to only redden his face more, if that were possible. “H-Hey, cut it out, weirdo!”

He reached an arm up to try pushing you back a few steps, but this only resulted in you stumbling further than anticipated. You could feel yourself lose your footing, and just as a gasp escaped your lips as you tensed your body to meet the hard linoleum floor, the same arm wrapped around your waist and hoisted you upright. The arm was warm, and the pads of his fingers had accidentally found their way to the bare skin peeking at your waist. The scent of caramel became stronger, overpowering all of your senses as you stared up at Bakugou with wide eyes and lips open, a flush rising to your cheeks. Your breathing was a bit labored, gaze searching the red, blank expression presented to you. “Mine.”

You blinked up at him. The hold he had on you tightened, and you felt your mouth go a bit dry. “H-huh?”

“That sweatshirt. It’s mine.”

Oh, the sweatshirt. For a moment there, you had thought… You gulped, pushing your thoughts to the farthest corner in your mind as the blonde released you from his grip. However, you could still feel the imprint of his warmth on your body, as if it had been tattooed onto your skin. Luckily you were able to stand up straight with your face stoic, although the bright red on your cheeks showed your true emotions all too clearly. It seemed you weren’t the only one who noticed, either, as Bakugou raised one brow upwards. Then smirked.

“What’re you getting so red for, huh?” He leaned in a bit closer than you would’ve thought he would, vermillion eyes blown wide and glinting mischievously at you. It was a bit cute to see him so cocky yet embarrassed, the blush just as prominent as before. “Got a fever or something?” As if to push it further, he placed his palm on your forehead. At that, you squeaked, causing that damn smirk to only widen further.

With every step he took forward, you took one back… Up until you were pressed against the wall, his hand still attached to your forehead as your cheeks darkened further. His free arm found its way next to you, palm flattened right beside your head, and the other soon followed until you were stuck in a kabedon position. And despite having no where else to go, he only seemed to inch closer.

His lips were hovering mere centimeters away from your own, ruby eyes staring into your own as you waited with bated breath on what was to happen next. There was a surge in the air, as if the two of you had just been zapped by Kaminari, but more tense. There wasn’t really a way to explain it. Was he playing with you? Was this just a joke? Was he going to kiss you like you thought? Like you hoped? The last thought made you suddenly suck in a deep breath as you squeezed your eyes shut.

And then the bell rang.

You nearly groaned at the sound, and opened your bright gaze just in time to see Bakugou move a step away from you; still close, but not as much as before. You stayed quiet, waiting for him to say something, anything. He wouldn’t just act like nothing happened… Right? Because something had happened, right?

Instead, he raked one hand through his spiked hair, the other burying itself in his pocket as he glanced away from you and back down the hallway, where the classroom was. The one you two had escaped from only a few minutes ago, although it felt like much longer. “We should get to class.” His rough voice came out more like a cough, and his eyes stayed away from you as he waited. You pursed your lips. So it looked like he was going to pretend nothing had happened. That just made your blood boil, and you didn’t even remember the reason as to why the two of you were out in the hallway to begin with as you shoved past him and made your way back to class. You didn’t get far, however, before stopping and twisting around, yanking the sweatshirt over your head roughly and throwing it in his direction. Then, you were back to storming down the hallway, hands balled into fists and frustration written all over your face.

Meanwhile, Bakugou stared at your retreating figure, eyes comically wide and a mixture of confusion and regular Bakugou-level anger on his features. “What the fuck was that about?” He mumbled to himself, the sweatshirt gripped in his hands as he frowned. He was just about to ask you on a date right after; not a date-date, of course, but out to that ramen place you wouldn’t stop yapping about with Round Face and Frog Girl. Did he do something wrong? Maybe he shouldn’t have shoved you against the wall so roughly… He saw it in an anime once, and the girl seemed to like it. Maybe he did it wrong? He hummed to himself, brows furrowing. He was a tad bit angry, but he was always angry, to some extent.

When he got back to the classroom, Aizawa had already passed out some worksheets and was dead asleep on the floor, per usual. Bakugou’s gaze first moved to you, and he was able to catch your gaze for only a second before you swiveled your attention elsewhere, your lips pressed into a firm, harsh line as you kept your face blank. From the corner of his eye, he could see Round Face glance at him in confusion. Yeah, me too!, he wanted to yell out, but was smart enough to grit his teeth and plop down in his chair. If he needed to, he’d find your friends later and ask them what the fuck was going on. You didn’t look like you’d be in the mood to talk to him for a while.

“Yo, Bakubro! What’s up with you?” Kirishima had an impish smile, but Bakugou didn’t question it. Instead, he shot his friend a harsh glare, cold enough to make even the bubbly redhead shrink back a bit, grin dropping down a level of its brightness.

“Nothing, Shitty Hair. I’m fucking fantastic.” Bakugou’s voice wasn’t its usual boom, instead barely a murmur, and Kiri almost strained to hear him. Well, that was an unexpected reaction. He glanced at Mina and the rest of the Bakubro group, who all met his gaze almost instantly. They all had a look of worry on their faces as they glanced at their mutual, usually hotheaded friend simultaneously, then towards your stiff figure. Something had definitely gone wrong in the last few minutes.

Crap. They needed to fix this, and fast.

... Is it that obvious that I read shoujo manga? And do i think Bakugou would read it and watch it too for romance advice? Fuck yes.

[tuanyiems]

Peppermint Chocolate

Kim Yugyeom Fluff Words: 1350 [Masterlist in blog] a/n - I am in love with this little meet cute lol Look forward to seeing this pair again in a future series coming very very soon! ;D

You’re a big believer in self-care. Whether it’s indulging in overpriced bath salts or taking a quick afternoon nap during your work break, you like to show yourself love in all forms. So, when Friday rolls around and you’re on your way home, you don’t even think twice about walking into the gourmet chocolate store.

The bell chimes when you open the door and a warm, chocolatey wind immediately engulfs you. Despite it only being October, the brisk fall evening and the delicious sweet scent remind you of the holidays just around the corner.

Flashes of snow and peppermint cross your mind. It brings a smile to your face as you absentmindedly finger through the rows of chocolate, each piece wrapped carefully in gold foil.

“Welcome!” a deep voice breaks you out of your trance. When you look up, you find yourself smiling wider.

A tall man in a thin, black turtleneck and bright, red apron greets you from behind the counter. He smiles brightly, eyes curling and you can’t help admiring the charming mole beneath his eye.

“Hello,” you finally reply, finding your voice coming out softer than you had intended.

“Are you looking for something in particular?” He asks, leaning on the clear counter that displays an assortment of freshly baked desserts.

“Oh,” you pause, eyes wandering around the store. “Nothing in particular. I’m just looking.”

He nods, looking at you a moment longer. “Well, let me know if you need anything.”

You pretend to look over a tray of caramel squares until you see him walking away in your peripheral. Looking up again, you watch his backside disappear behind the double doors of what you assume to be the kitchen.

You let out a breath you didn’t even realize you were holding. You didn’t think the chocolate store would have eye candy too.

When he comes back out, you’re caught off guard again but if he notices the tremor in your gaze, he doesn’t say anything. Instead, he holds his arms out, a tray of chocolates in his hands.

“Would you like a sample?” he asks brightly, setting the try on the clear display. You welcome the excuse to get a closer look.

You pretend to look at the chocolates, your cheeks heating when you feel his eyes on you.

“It’s a fresh batch,” he adds.

You purse your lips, trying hard not to smile too big. “They look delicious,” you finally say, reaching for a piece. “Thanks.”

A little too consciously, you pop the square of chocolate into your mouth. You watch him, watching you. It makes you shy but you don’t want to look away. A fresh, peppermint flavor immediately surrounds your tongue. You smile in surprise, brows raising. He is grinning back at you, a proud shimmer in his eyes.

“Minty!” You finally speak, breaking into a giggle. “I was just thinking about peppermints for Christmas.”

He smiles warmly. “Isn’t it a little too early for that?”

You shrug, eyes traveling down to the pastries under the clear glass. “I imagine working here feels a little bit like Christmas year-round.”

He chuckles softly, leaning onto the counter and you try not to think about how close his face is to yours now.

“You should come work here and find out,” he answers playfully.

“I’m guessing that means it’s not,” you laugh.

For a moment, he bites at the side of his bottom lip, eyes staring down at you mischievously. “I don’t know, maybe it will be if you worked here.”

You feel a flutter straight in your gut.

“W-well,” you stutter, eyes trailing before they land on the gold name tag on his apron. “Yugyeom.”

“That’s my name,” he answers softly, eyes teasing.

“Oh,” your hand comes to your lips, face heating exponentially. You didn’t realize you said his name aloud.

Chuckling, Yugyeom pushes the tray closer to you. “Why don’t you have another?”

You nod, head lowering as you grimace to yourself. You take another piece into your mouth, the sweet melting on your tongue being a slight comfort to your otherwise huge embarrassment.

“See anything you like?” Yugyeom lifts a brow.

You clench your fist around the end of your sleeves to physically hold yourself back from blurting out You. Instead you point to the first thing you see. “I’ll take one of that, please.”

“Are you a fan of peppermint?” he asks.

“What?” you look at him curiously before you follow his hands. Only then, do you realize you had pointed to a chocolate peppermint brownie.

“Oh,” you jerk your hands, almost flinging the sample tray off the counter. “Oh dear!”

Luckily, Yugyeom grabs hold of the plate before it can shatter on the floor. His hand comes over yours, a gesture meant to calm you. Your heart jumps to your throat anyways.

“It’s all good,” he reassures you, thumb brushing the back of your hand.

You let out a breath, silently reprimanding yourself. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me today, I’m usually not this clumsy.”

He only shakes his head sweetly, “A little human error makes you all the more adorable.”

He sends you a wink so smoothly, it takes you a couple blinks to fully register it, but it hits you with full force. You have to purse your lips to stop yourself from smiling like an idiot.

You take a step back to calm yourself, but immediately regret this choice when your purse accidentally knocks a row of chocolate boxes off a shelf.

“Oh my god!”

With a face on fire, you drop to the ground to gather the boxes, Yugyeom’s amused laughter only feeding the flame. He’s quick to come around the counter, joining you on the floor. You let him take the boxes from your hands, grateful to have your palms free to hide your face behind.

“I’m so sorry!” You apologize, half muffled by your hands.

“No worries,” he chuckles easily, tucking the boxes back onto the shelf. “They were in an awkward area anyways.”

When you refuse to uncover your face, Yugyeom let’s out a breathy chuckle. His hands are back on yours again as he gently tugs them away from your face.

“It’s really alright,” he smiles at you warmly and you don’t know whether to be reassured or embarrassed that he’s witnessing all of this. Why did this have to happen in front of the cutest guy ever?

With both hands just barely on your arms, Yugyeom helps you back up like you’re something delicate. Or maybe he’s worried you might knock another thing over.

Back behind the counter, Yugyeom smiles at you like nothing happened.

“So,” he pauses and you wonder if that’s a faint blush on his cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t catch your name.”

“Y/N,” you tell him quickly, deciding not to mention that you didn’t tell him in the first place.

His smile grows bigger when he hears your name. “So, Y/N, is there anything else I can help you with?”

You shake your head, the previous embarrassment still lingering. “Unless there’s a weapon behind your counter and you can put me out of my misery, then no, I think I’m good.”

He laughs at your joke and you feel just a little bit better.

“No, just some hand mixers and a lot of chocolate,” he jokes.

You smile, rummaging through your purse for your wallet. “Well, that’s one way to go.”

“I’ll throw some peppermints in just for you.”

Chuckling, you hand him your card and watch as he finishes your purchase.

“It’s been a pleasure meeting you, Y/N,” he smiles, pushing the boxed pastry on the counter towards you. “Please enjoy and come again soon!”

You smile gratefully. “Thanks, you too!”

The last thing Yugyeom sees is the look of horror on your face before you are rushing out of the store, the bell chimes replacing any last goodbyes.

Yugyeom glances back down to the counter, the red pastry box still sitting by the register. Chuckling to himself, he places the box away, beside his tray of chocolate peppermint samples.

He hopes you’ll be back very soon.

[btsfaris]

exes and oh’s

summary: sometimes you feel like San is too good to be true.. or maybe he’s too good for you? length: 1,758 pairing: choi san x insecure reader genre: angst, fluff, suggestive smut

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San was such a bright and happy soul, despite his chiseled features and muscular frame, he was such a happy pill inside. He was the type of person to make new friends or talk to anyone randomly like they were close pals. That was one of the reasons you loved him so much, and you’re forever grateful that he has that sort of character–as you would probably not be dating had he not approached you first.

You were simply walking through downtown where all the shops were, to buy a few things you needed and the sweet scent of coffee coming from an open door to a cafe caught your attention. Not thinking too much of it, you walk in and look at the menu, deciding what you wanted to reward yourself with; after such a long day of shopping.

“I usually go for an white chocolate mocha–not too bitter and not too sweet,” a figure beside you speaks up and you jump slightly at the sound.

He gives you the sweetest smile, his eyes nearly closed and dimples on his smooth cheeks. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you, just thought you needed a bit of help,” he continues to grin and you can’t help but to smile back.

“That’s okay.. I was going to get a caramel latte though, but thank you for the suggestion,” you give him a nod and he hums.

“So you like your coffee sweet? Guess it’s true what they say; you are what you eat,” he says, and a blush rises on your cheeks at the sudden compliment. Before you can get another word in, he is next in line and orders for himself. He turns around, handing you the receipt and you look at him confused before reading the small paper and seeing your order on there as well. When you look up, he gives you a soft wink and you bite back a swoon.

You bow at him thankfully, before turning to sit at the end of the cafe, far too shy to sit next to the handsome boy who just bought you a drink. Besides he seemed like he was nice to everyone, you really shouldn’t think much of it.

That is until the guy once again stands in front of you a few minutes later and places your coffee on the table before sitting down. “Kinda hoped you’d sit next to me,” he sighs playfully and looks at you with practically sparkling eyes. Seriously, could this guy get any cuter?

“I’m San by the way, I hope I’m not being rude and you’re just trying to get rid of me. It’s just that you’re very beautiful and I was hoping to get your number?” He gives you a hopeful look while you give him a confused one. This incredibly attractive person wants your number? Is he blind?

“O-Oh,” you blink repeatedly before nodding, and he takes out his phone almost instantaneously, handing it to you. You punch your number in before he gives you a quick call so you can have his number as well.

“Great, what’s your name love?” San smiles.

“It’s y/n,” you say softly.

From that point on, you texted daily and even went on a couple of dates. By the 5th date, San walked you to your door just like any other time but this time, finally asked you to be his girlfriend officially. Surprising you in all honesty, you never thought someone as perfect as him would be interested in someone like you. He was all around an amazing guy, with a bubbly personality and very dedicated to his career as an idol.

So here you are now, a few months into the relationship and at a friend’s birthday party with a bunch of other people you don’t really know. Originally you wanted to stay at home and watch movies on San’s only night off in weeks but after hours of begging, he managed to convince you to go out with him. You’re a couple drinks in and chatting against a wall with a childhood friend of his when a female voice cuts him off.

“Choi San? Is that you?” A pretty girl walks up and has a shocked look on her face.

“Lee Nari? What are you doing here?” San exclaims, a smile growing on his face.

“I came for (friend’s name)’s birthday of course? Did you forget we all went to the same high school as you?” She teases and you’re confused at the two.

“Ah, well it has been a long time,” he blushes, and for some reason it doesn’t settle well in your stomach at the sight. He seems to remember your presence before clearing his throat, “this is my girlfriend y/n,” he introduces you and she gives you a polite bow.

“And this is Nari, my uh,” he scratches the back of his neck, “friend.”

“Just a friend huh? Wah, is the idol life finally getting to you? I didn’t date you for that long so I could be a friend,” she nudges him playfully and it seems to go over his head that she’s his ex when he retorts. “Yah, I’m still the same country boy I was years ago, I just dance and sing a little better.”

You keep quiet as the two interact for the next hour, wondering the real reason they’re not together anymore. They seemed like the perfect pair, she was equally as bubbly and energetic as him. Not to mention she was prettier, with a nicer smile that almost reminded you of San. The only thing you can come up with of their break up is that he left for his training and split, no loss of feelings necessarily and the thought is what makes you go at your breaking point.

Rather than telling San, you walk away from the pair and head outside for some air. Sitting on the curb of the sidewalk outside the apartment complex, you analyze your relationship with your sweet boyfriend so far. What exactly could you offer to him? He was far out of your league, a freaking idol of all things! Maybe this was your wake up call. That you weren’t meant to be with San after all.

It’s been a while since you’ve sat outside, and it only furthers your sadness since he hasn’t noticed your absence yet. Probably too busy flirting with Nari. You pull out your phone and sniff as tears start to roll down your cheeks, typing a message to San.

you: let’s end this 11:36pm

You’re about to walk home when a pair of hands pull you back into a hug. You know it’s San when he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Where have you been honey? I’ve been looking for you!” He chuckles, turning you around. When he sees your red eyes, his expression softens and he reaches out to pull you into an embrace. You swat his hand away and he looks shocked, “What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“Go back inside San, I don’t want to ruin the party for you,” you mumble, wiping your cheeks with your hands and continue walking.

“Wait, hold on,” he’s quick on his feet and pulls you back, “did I do something?”

“Can you just please leave me alone,” you huff, crossing your arms, “please check your phone too, maybe it’ll help.”

He’s confused, but pulls his phone out. “Y/n..” he whispers, looking up at you again with now watery eyes.

“I’m sorry San, this just isn’t going to work out,” you mumble, “tonight made me realize we’re just too different people, we just don’t belong together..”

“Y/n.. come on, you don’t mean that. W-We’re perfect, you’re perfect, you get me better than anyone!” His voice cracks, making your heart wince, “what can I do? how can I show you how much I love you?”

“Wouldn’t you rather be with Nari?” You mutter quietly, looking at your feet.

“Nari? Is this because of her?”

“San.. come on now, don’t tell me you don’t still have feelings for her. I saw the way you looked at her! You ignored me for an hour and flirted with her..” your eyes water again at the memory, “you guys just seemed to click, we’re not the same.”

“Of course we’re the same!-“ he throws his hands up in frustration with brows furrowed, “y/n I’m in love with you, not her! She’s my ex for a reason!”

“And you guys probably broke up because you left to Seoul right? Because of the distance? Don’t tell me I’m wrong,” you give him a look and he frowns.

“Partly yes–but she didn’t want me to go. She hated that I wanted to be an idol, she wanted a normal relationship and told me I was ridiculous for trying to follow my dream. How could I be with someone who wanted to hold me back?” He explains, a serious expression on his face that you’ve never seen before, “but with you it’s different, you support me 100%, you don’t care if I’m miles or countries away. You give me so much love and care that I’m so grateful for.”

He comes closer until he can hold onto your hands and you feel his body tremble, like he’s terrified to let you go, “I don’t think I’ve loved anyone more than I love you, so please don’t doubt yourself. Please don’t leave me, I need you.”

You’re sure your makeup is ruined completely at this point and black is covering your cheeks but you don’t care. “What if I’m not good enough for you? What if you’re wasting your time on someone like me?”

He sucks in a breath when he hears you finally voice your insecurities, “Baby, don’t you ever say that. If anyone is not good enough, it’s me,” he pulls you into his arms and pets your hair, “I’m always gone, and you’re always waiting for me. Sometimes I worry that a normal guy will walk in and take you away from me, give you the kind of relationship that I can’t give you. The kind that you deserve. But I’m a selfish man, and I don’t want to lose you. I can’t lose you.”

“I want you anyway I can have you San, I love you,” you mumble into his neck and he lets out a shaky sigh as his embrace tightens at your words.

“Then please don’t ever think that you’re not enough for me, because even I don’t deserve you,” San gives you a kiss on the forehead.

“Okay,” you say softly and lift your head to look at him.

He gives you the familiar sparkly eyes that you’ve grown to adore and his lips meet yours in a passionate kiss. You stand there for minutes, holding each other close until you finally need air.

“Now let’s go home, so I can really show you how much I love you.”

[moonflower-31]

I Won’t Forget You - Spencer Reid x Reader

Masterlist

Part 6 

Pairing: Spencer x Reader 

Warnings: Descriptions of murders, cases, Serial killer facts, 

Tags: @dra-reid, @eevee0722, @ceeellewrites, @anotherr-fine-mess, @ssahoodrathotchner

~~~~~~~~~~ 

○●♡●○ 

It had been about two months or so since your little impromptu sleepover at the resident genius's place. Things had gotten a little better, at least on your part. 

"Hey!" 

You jumped from your make-do desk in your room, snapping your head towards the doorway where a friendly face awaited you. Gabriel had a bag of sweets in one hand and a malt in the other. "Jesus, Gabe you scared me." You cursed, holding a hand to your chest. 

"At least we're even." He points out, putting the malt on the table in front of you. Also inconveniently on top of your written notes for the paper you had to write. You growled and moved the drink, glaring at your best friend. 

"You've gotten even with me plenty of times since then! How many times do I have to say I'm sorry?" You ask in exasperation. Gabriel pretends to ponder your question as he pops a caramel apple sucker into his mouth. 

"Says the girl who didn't call me to tell me she was home and instead decided to stay with the coworker she has a crush on. You didn't even bribe me with details!" He complained, dumping a few sweets in front of you. 

You grumpily grab one of the sweets he had graciously offered and tossed it into your mouth. "It was one time! And I hadn't slept for like, four days! Besides, it wasn't my fault my mother decided to drop by and visit!" You huff. 

"Yeah yeah. You know how much I hate that hag. Nothing against you, sugar tits." Gabriel comments, pulling the pop from his mouth. "But still, no excuse not to call me. Send me a text even. Some proof of life." He grumbled. "That malt is yours by the way. Iris insisted I get one for you while we were out. Couldn't say no." 

You look over at the bright pink striped cup dripping with condensation that created a wet circle on the desk. For being pissed at you for over two months, Gabriel was a good friend. 

You took the malt and started sipping generously. "I'm sorry, okay? What do I have to do to prove it to you?" You ask. 

Gabriel smirked. You hated when he got ideas. 

"Tell me about your night with Mister teacher's pet. Then I'll consider it." He teased, quickly bopping your nose. 

"I already told you. After my bitch mother confronted me, he convinced me to head to his place. I couldn't say no. He eventually read me a poem and I fell asleep. And… he knows my real name now. Happy?" You asked with a groan. 

"Oh come on, that can't be all of it!" He whined, almost like a child about to throw a tantrum for being forced to eat his vegetables. Not that Gabriel was any different. He would fight you tooth and nail if you tried. 

"It is! Nothing else happened! No kiss, no dramatic display of feelings, no nothing. Just a really awkward drive to work." You huffed. 

The thought of the drive was a little hurtful. After the night you both had, well more like morning and you slept through the rest of the day, Spencer had been distant. It didn't last long as a couple days later they all had to get on the jet for another case. Spencer then began to re-warm up to you and now you knew nothing different. Though he didn't try to flirt with you anymore. Not like Morgan. But the previous moments where he had you backed up against the map, or had called you a good girl. He never did it again. And to be honest, you missed it despite how embarrassed you were afterwards. 

"Boo! And I thought you liked the guy!" Gabriel exclaimed, acting baffled at the chain of events in your life. He then shrugged. "More fish in the sea I guess." He teased, obviously gaging you for a response. 

"I do! Just… I'm not as obscenely obvious about it as you want me to be!" You hissed, sucking up more chocolate malt into your mouth with a little bit of a pissy attitude. 

"Well if you were, I'm sure he'd be your teacher's aide boyfriend by now. Now, who's right and wrong in this situation? Hm? Yeah, me. No debate." He insists, putting the sucker back into his mouth.  

"Shut up. I have to write this paper. For my doctorate in social science." You explain. "Just because you stopped going to school doesn't mean I can't go ahead and add another doctorate to my belt." You try to change the subject, hoping Gabriel would ease up on you. 

"You and those doctorates. Are you seriously trying to build a filing cabinet up there or are you just bored with working for the FBI already?" Gabriel asks, flopping down onto your bed. 

"Neither. I just want to know as much as I can in all of my areas of schooling. Be taken seriously." You insist. 

"Boring. Why don't you take classes on making candy or something? That would be seriously cool. And then you can open up your own business just to spite those parents of yours! 

I can see it now!" He rants, hanging his head over the edge of your mattress as he spreads his hands as if displaying the business name. 

You roll your eyes. "No thanks. That sounds like something you should do though. You'd fit right into that role, you know. Candyman." You tease. "Now I really gotta finish this paper." You insist. 

"Fine fine. Just be sure to come down from your academic heaven long enough to eat dinner once Iris is finished." He insists, winking at you before he leaves your room. 

Finally, you had your peace and quiet. But it was weird. The peace and quiet was very quickly becoming deafening by the influx of thoughts. Not the helpful kind either. 

You began to come up blank on ideas for your paper and had more ideas on how you could have maybe done something different to prevent that awkward drive to work all those weeks ago. Where did this uncertainty come from?

You grumble and close your laptop after ten minutes of no progress. Maybe you just needed a break. Then again, it was your day off. And you didn't feel like wishing bad things on someone just so you'd be able to go into work. 

Almost as if the universe had been listening and decided to throw you a sickened bone, you heard your phone begin to ring. You eagerly pick it up, knowing it would be something to keep you busy. 

"Hello, Agent (L/N)." You answer without checking the caller ID. 

"Yes, (L/N) I need you to come in. We have another case." Hotch answers the phone. You feel a slight feeling of excitement strike at your core. Sure, you'd been on 6 cases so far, but you enjoyed being around your fellow agents and putting another unsub away. 

"Do I get any insight, Hotch?" You ask. 

"It's a case in Lebanon Kansas. We have a large group of bodies piling up. We have two suspects we believe are working with each other. We just need to profile them and catch them before they kill again. I'll inform everyone once you've arrived." As soon as he finished, he hung up. He didn't give you any chance to reply. Typical Hotch fashion. 

You stand up immediately, grabbing your bag and your go-bag you had packed at all times just in case this happened. You grabbed the malt you still had and drank the rest of it, grabbing a couple of the caramel apple pops Gabriel had left and shoving them into your pocket. 

You wandered into the kitchen, grabbing a plastic container and putting some of dinner into it. 

"Woah, woah, where the hell are you going so late?" Gabriel asked in a fatherly tone. You rolled your eyes and glared at him for a moment. 

"I have work. Duh." 

"Work? I thought you were off?" Iris asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I am. But unfortunately serial killers don't care that I'm off. Sorry guys. I promise I'll call you guys once I get back, okay?" You promise, finding a lid and putting it on the tubberware. 

"You better. Or else I'll stick gum in your hair. And not the easy to get out stuff." Gabriel threatened teasingly, taking a quick bite of his food. "Have fun arresting some muttonheads!" He called. 

You chuckle and sling your bag over your shoulder. "Will do!" You reply before you turn around and head out of your shared apartment. 

○●♡●○

"Hey! (L/N)!" 

You turn your head as you arrive to the bullpen. You smile as the eccentric Penelope Garcia raced up to you to give you a hug once you were down the stairs. 

You graciously accepted the hug and turned to everyone else. "What did I miss?" You ask. 

"Nothing much. Only Reid finally showing us another magic trick!" Penelope answered for everyone. Morgan chuckled and Reid blushed slightly. Emily was leaned slightly against Reid's desk, looking at you warmly. 

"Seriously, he's really good." Emily affirmed. You chuckled and walked over in interest. 

"Really now? Show me." You insist, standing in front of Spencer. He looked up at you and did a nervous chuckle. 

"W-well your gonna have to turn around." He says, giving you an adorable michevious smirk. 

"Oh come on-" you begin. 

"He does this everytime, you'll get used to it." Emily adds, laughing slightly as she begins to turn around. 

"Spencerrr… please? For me?" You asked, batting your eyes pitifully. You knew it would probably get you nowhere, but you could at lease try. 

"No." He insisted. 

"Pleaseeee!" You beg again, putting your hands in a clasped position. You even bended your knees slightly to add to the effect. 

Instead of the immediate rejection, he pondered for a moment and stared at you. 

"Come on kid, one person knows a magician's tricks. Let her be your protégé." Morgan suggests. You giggle and shook your head.  

"No really, it's fine. You don't have to show me-" you begin to backtrack, not wanting to force Spencer into showing you. 

"I'll do it. I-I mean… I have to find someone to pass my gifts onto." He chuckles, rubbing his neck a little nervously. 

"Really?" 

"Yeah!" He expressed. 

Morgan raised an eyebrow and stifled a chuckle as he watched you two. He leaned over to Emily who had made her way over to where he stood and whispered into her ear. 

Spencer then told everyone to turn their heads away except for you. Then he began to show you the way he made the mini bottle rocket. He wrapped his hands around yours and helped you with each step. The warmth of his hands spread to your cheeks, and the touch of them sent shivers down your spine. 

"Then turn it upside down and…" Spencer instructed in a whisper, helping you to turn the cap upside down. You watched the foaming top for a few seconds, moving closer towards the unknowing danger of the cap. As soon as it began to jump up, Spencer pushed you back with an inaudible warning. You watched as the bottle skyrocketed and flew fast Hotch's ear. Through this, his hand clutched as your shoulder and refused to leave it. 

"Reid, I thought I told you not to do that." Hotch warned. 

Reid's face grew a little brighter with embarrassment. You didn't know what came upon you then, but you stood up and gulped. "It-it was me. He taught me and I shot it. Sorry sir." You insisted. 

Hotch's lips pulled into a slight smile as he looked back towards you. He didn't say anything afterwards, but you knew he was just teasing you both. "Meet up in the confrence room in five minutes, we have another case." He says after he cleared his throat. You nodded with a cheerful smile and put your bag in your chair. You glanced to Spencer, flashing him a gentle smile before you turned to enter the conference room. 

You entered the room and took your seat, taking the tablet out that Garcia had given you before. "So what do we have?" You asked. 

"We have what is assumed to be over a dozen bodies killed with different MO's and different stages of aggression. The only thing that links them are the DNA from one or both of these suspects; Jensen and Sam Westchester. And boy do they have long records. That's why we were able to find their DNA matches so quick." Penelope answered. 

Spencer took a seat beside you, causing your heart to skip just slightly. "How come we don't have these men yet? Why do they need our help?" You ask. 

"We need to apprehend them. And get a confession. The Kansas state court system has been known to be unpredictable. Sometimes evidence is enough, other times they get off with a warning and community service." Hotch answers. 

"At least they do that." Morgan grumbled. "How come we don't have these guys yet? Are they that slick?"

"Unfortunately yes. They are like Houdini when it comes to busting out of prisons and facilities. The last prison they were held in, one up in Ohio, said they were able to escape through knocking out a guard and switching clothes with him. They were in for a robbery charge." Penelope continued. 

"So why escalate to murder? Unless these murders were scattered." You ask. 

"They are. Over 15 years worth. It looks like they could maybe have more." Spencer spoke up, looking over the picture of one of the more recent bodies. 

"It's quite possible. After all, Harold Shipman managed to get away with 218 proven murders. But they think he could've done as many as 250." You answer, sharing a serial killer fact you found interesting. 

"So we just need to profile these boys and figure out the motive. And if we apprehend them, keep them apart." Emily points out. 

"Why do you say that?" Rossi asks. 

"If you notice the trend in each of these escapes, they only manage to escape when in contact with the other. In the prison they had time to be able to see one another and formulate a plan. Even when in questioning they were able to get notes to each other." 

"Then we'll have to split up and get seperate confessions. These two are brothers, and neither seem to fit the submissive type.' Hotch explains. 

"Two alpha males killing for seemingly no reason for half their lives. This'll be easy to get them to confess and rat out their partner." You say sarcastically. 

"We have to try. Wheels up in thirty." Hotch announces, standing up and leaving the room. 

You sigh and pick up the tablet. "Garcia, can you go ahead and check more than just their juvie records? I wanna have a list of information I can pick from for the profile. Possibly pinpoint some areas of their lives that lead to this behavior." You ask. 

"Oh, but of course Queen! I'll get straight on that. But most of it will probably be sealed." She warned. 

"Unseal those records Garcia. Anything that can help us." Morgan interjects as he grabs his bag and he too leaves the conference room. Garcia nods to him and quickly clicks her heels as she leaves the room. You sigh and pick up your things as you prepare to get onto the jet. 

"You didn't have to defend me." 

"Hm?" You ask, turning to look at Spencer. "Oh, you mean the rocket-thingy?" You clarify. "I was the one to beg you to teach me. Let's just be happy it didn't hit him in the head." You giggle. Spencer looked at you intently for a few moments before he nodded and turned his head away silently. Although it caused you to be uncertain, you brushed it off and walked out to your desk to grab your things. 

As you grab your bags, you feel the small raised bulge in your pocket. You remember the caramel apple pops and smile. At least you could enjoy one of these on the way to deal with a pair of serial killers. Fun.  

You pulled the sucker from the wrapper and popped it into your mouth, beginning your trek out to the jet. As you begin to walk towards the elevator, you notice a pair of hazel eyes following you. You feel a slight burning sensation on the back of your neck and your cheeks as you realized. He looked away once he noticed you were staring back. 

Was he really staring, or was he just spacing out? You hoped it was the former. You were practically begging and praying for it to be. But you knew you'd never be that lucky. 

As you began walking, you heard a jumble of feet behind you and the jingle of things inside a bag getting tossed around. "(Y/N!)" You heard. You widened your eyes and turned around, glad no one besides Spencer had been behind you. 

"Spencer! You can't just call me by my first name right now!" You hissed. 

"S-sorry, I just wanted to apologize if I sounded upset with you. I… I find it honorable that you tried to defend me. No one really does." He explained. You felt your heart melt a little. 

"Spencer… I didn't think that in the slightest." You knew you were lying, but it was going to make him feel better. Besides, it wasn't that big of a deal. "And if that last part is true then I'll be your legendary defender. Like Voltron!" You insist, already beginning to geek out in front of your workplace crush. Way to go, (Y/N). 

"Voltron? What is that? Is it like Star Trek?" He asked, beginning to walk towards the jet with you. You widen your eyes at him and gasp playfully. 

"You, haven't seen Voltron Legendary Defender? Okay, when we get back you HAVE to come over and watch it with me. Afterwards we can watch some documentaries." You insist, practically bouncing on your toes. Spencer looked over you and smiled, unable to tell you no.  

"Sounds like a plan." 

[peakywitch]

Cassiopeia - John Shelby

Warnings: mentions of blood, war, curse word...the normal!  

A/N: changed John’s kids name! also, it’ll be revised through these days, tell me if you see any mistakes! <3 

word count: 2.3k

my masterlist

The small footsteps of two mischievous children were heard throughout the house. It was very early, the sun was still down. The two opposing hands of the children were intertwined, guiding each other through the labyrinth into which the house was transformed when the moon rose. The old wood under their feet creaked with every step, which alerted his not-so-asleep father.

"What if he hits us?" Ben asked nervously.

"James has been telling you stories, right?"

The boy nodded sadly at his sister's question. His friend was frequently punished severely, but at the Shelby household, it was different.

"Don't worry, it's for a good cause. Besides, dad would never hit us." Winnie smiled, trying to see his brother's eyes in the dark.

A good cause? John thought, what would be so important to speak in the moonlight? He knew what his two kids were up to, but he stayed in bed, still being able to listen to the two of them talk. He wasn't going to get up, not until the sun comes up at least.

"Dad?" asked the voice of the girl, with a low and still voice "Are you awake?"

John turned his face on the pillow, seeing two heads - one with braids and one with blond hair, both disheveled - appear through the door. What the hell were Winnie and Ben doing up at such an early hour?

A sleepy voice invited them to climb onto the bed with them, Ben accepted immediately, almost jumping on his father. Winnie just sat on the end of the bed, watching John hug Ben.

"What are you two doing up so early?" he asked, as he gently combed his son's hair

"It’s Emma’s and Lottie’s birthday on Monday." Winnie whispered, not wanting to wake the smaller Shelbys sleeping in the next room.

"Yes, I know", he smiled "six years ... I don't understand where those six years have gone." He smiled wistfully. But even so, that smile showed a pride that was not visible in the moonlight.

"And we thought about whether we could bake a cake." Ben smiled.

John's eyes went to the boy's sugar-craving gaze. Then he saw her smile, which had a small window.

"So the good cause is cake, huh?" He smiled, giving Winnie a sense that his plan to be quiet had failed.

But even with a defeat, the girl smiled, as her hand traveled through the braid that John had awkwardly made.

“It's already Saturday, you don't have school. Why don't they go back to sleep? he asked, after a chat of flavors, colours and fillings.

Winnie nodded as she listened to Ben, who had been snoring from the beginning of the conversation.

"Aunt Pol, I need a favor." John asked, as he played with the toothpick between his lips.

Polly tore her eyes away from the journal for a few short seconds, seeing her nephew's pleading look. When she read the newspaper again, she spoke:

“I'll take care of the children today, John. But since you are always..."

"Actually, uh... the girls turn 6 on Monday, and I wanted to ask you if you could bake them a cake?" the doubt and confusion in John's voice led her aunt to laugh.

"When in your bloody life have you seen me bake a cake, huh?" she asked, putting the paper aside and taking the last sip of her tea.

"Yeah, well," he laughed, "I don't lose anything by trying, do I?"

Between a nostalgic chat about how they were six years ago, Polly remembered in an instant, interrupting John:

"Y/N!"

Polly's exclamation shook John's comfort, her screams were always sending him to the Calvary.

"Y/N?" he asked.

The name burned on the tip of his tongue and in the back of his head, unable to remember who it was. He had known a nurse of that name, but it couldn't be because some enemies had killed her in front of him.

“Do you remember Karl's cake? That delicacy of chocolate, hazelnut and caramel?” his aunt answered with a question, trying to enliven the memory.

How could he forget that cake.

The cake was soft as a cloud, the chocolate intense and the caramel had a few notes of salt that made your tongue dance. John had never tasted a better cake than that. Also, he had eaten three servings. Faced with the memory, he laughed:

"How could I forget the stomach ache that lasted for two days, ey?" Polly grinned "Never such a beautiful pain."

They both laughed.

John's feet were constantly changing position. He was alone in a neighboring town from Small Heath, an hour away from his home. The address Polly had given him must be wrong since it was not a bakery; it was a simple English house. It had some rose bushes in the small front garden and a bird feeder in a vibrant little lemon tree. The aesthetics of the home were out of tune with John in an extraordinary way. The striking difference between the green of the home and the black of his clothes made him feel like an outcast.

Somewhat uncomfortable and hesitant, he headed for the door. It was then that he could hear the subtle violin that came from the house, also a piano. The atmosphere was so mellow, it almost completely calmed John's nerves. With the piano in the background, he knocked on the door. The music did not stop. From what he knew, the music that was playing came from a gramophone.

A woman in her forties opened the door for him, her blonde hair was down and her eyes were tired, but still had a smile from ear to ear.

"Yes?" she asked, without moving her smile.

"Good afternoon, ma'am" smiled John, taking off his hat "I'm looking for Mrs. Y/N ..."

Mrs? John asked himself, since when did he say he was looking for a Mrs?

The woman called out the name, and within seconds an old woman appeared in front of him.

"Are you Y/N?" asked John.

"So it is, dear." The lady's smile denoted fatigue but a strange feeling of youth.

Uncharacteristically shy, John explained his situation.

"Oh, great, great!" He smiled, and invited him in.

The lady, without asking much, sat the unknown gangster on a pink sofa with flowers and black wooden armrests. John could observe that the music came from a phonograph, it had been almost twenty years since he had seen one, they were not so common anymore.

After a few moments of inspecting the curious and cozy house from that old-fashioned sofa, the lady appeared with two aprons: both pink, with ruffles and embroidery.

"Very good," the lady smiled, "put this on and Y/N is coming."

The old woman did not give Shelby time to complain, leaving him in the company of a pink apron, totally striking.

Polly, what the fuck have you gotten me into?

John walked nervously through the dining room, cooking classes? I'd had enough of Polly's teachings on how to make soup, there was no way I could bake a cake. Less than less, two.

"Are you ready, Mr.?"

The voice... the voice is different.

John turned around, seeing how a girl appeared in front of him.

"And you are?" he asked, holding out his hand.

"I am Y/N."

John was mixing a thick brown mixture, while Y/N a white. The image of the man in a suit, with a chocolate stain on his shirt, made Y/N smile every time she saw him. He had steadfastly refused to wear something as ridiculous and flashy as that pink apron, but he had been persuaded to cook the cake.

"So everyone who wants a cake... comes and has to do it too?" John asked, finishing beating.

"Yes."

"So, my sister Ada...?"

“I end up with her egg-filled apron, but yeah. The cake was made by her with my help. "

John stopped beating, glancing sideways at the baker's smile. He knew that smile, but still not the woman who wore it.

While the cake was baking, they both talked about life, war, music. Sorting things out amid animated chatter, John tried to caress her arms with his. The moles on her arms reminded him of stars.

"You remind me of war." He said, without thinking once.

The look of the young woman was a complete poem.

"You're not good with compliments, are you John?" the girl asked, trying to add laughter to the situation, uncomfortable.

"Hell, I didn't mean that, I..." a chill ran through his body, what the fuck did he just say?

"Do not worry." She smiled, finishing cleaning.

“When I was on the Somme,” John began, “when I was on the Somme I couldn't think of anything other than the smell of blood. I couldn't hear anything other than screams, in a thousand and one languages, be it prayers or calls for help. The sun burned my forehead ... I remember feeling the infinite beads of sweat that dried on my neck. But at night, when death rested and war ceased, he looked at the stars. The sweat of the day made me feel like I was dying of cold in the cruel and dark French trenches. I prayed i would come home safe and sound, or at least alive. And the smell and the screams continued, until i found Cassiopeia in the sky. Then the smell would stop, the screaming too. My body was flooded with the aroma of bread that my mother made, and a lullaby sounded in my head that I heard my aunt sing. "

Y/N's eyes were attentive to every word, unconsciously shedding tears. The boy approached her arm, and slowly traced the W that was seen on her skin. His index finger joined each mole, and he touched the stars of the Samarin sky. He felt that peace, he felt that song and he felt different.

After that, they kissed. It was a bearable kiss, momentary and fleeting but brilliant, like a star. It gave them both that feeling you get on New Year’s: that feeling that, although it is still the same, you have a new opportunity. A fresh start.

“This is how looking up the stars felt.” Said John, while his nose was touching hers.

“How?” Y/n asked.

Both of their eyes were still closed. Their breathing was slow and peaceful.

John couldn’t answer; he felt everything crumble inside of him. Slowly, the disgusting smell of blood was flooding his head again.

“Is the cake ready?” he asked pulling away from her, making the girl sadden.

“Uh…yes, we just have to write their names with icing and it’ll be ready to be eaten.”

Her eyes were trying to connect with his, but he was observing the kitchen anxiously, avoiding her eyes. They both knew that John was evading her, but he didn’t know how she felt.

He left her in the kitchen to finish her work, as he washed the batter off of his hands in the little bathroom. It didn’t matter how many times he used soap, he still saw the red dots of blood on his hands. He felt the dirt under his nails, and the sweat drops on his back were always burning and itching, no matter how many showers he took.

When he left the bathroom, five minutes later, he saw the girl getting ready to write his daughters’ names on both cakes.

With a professional smile on her face, she asked for the names.

“Emma and Charlotte.” he smiled, tiredly.

As he put his coat on again, he watched the girl write both names in pink icing. She had a little bit of her tongue out, and was frowning. John couldn’t help but smile, not realizing how peaceful he was feeling.

One minute after he put on his cap on his the pocket of his coat, the baker gave him two white boxes.

“I really hope you learned something today.” She said with a smile, he smiled back.

“This” he said, giving her money “I believe is yours…”

He was giving her eight quids. Her eyes opened with astonishment.

“It’s two pounds each cake, John. Four in total.”

“Take ‘em, really.” He said, still insisting.

“John, I will accept five, and that’s it.” She said back, trying to act tough. Jesus, eight pounds sounded bloody amazing.

“I compared you to war, c’mon. Take them all.” He insisted agin.

“Six, and if you insist again I will give you both cakes as gifts.” She smiles, feeling the victory in her plan.

John smiled, he couldn’t believe how hard headed she was. He looked away, and let out a little laugh before looking at her, directly in the yes.

“Six it is.”

And when she saw the smile on John’s face, she felt like it was all good again, just like before and during the kiss. Boy was she wrong.

“You know…” the man started “I shouldn’t have kissed you, I’m so sorry…m’ wife, well…”

Y/N’s stiffened, her blood became ice. Every cell in her body fell numb.

“Oh…” she said.

John didn’t say a word. Neither did her.

She helped him load the cakes in his car, but the again. None of them said good bye. He took off, having given the girl two quids more.

He paid for the kiss, she though, not because he was sorry of what he said.

That night, she felt as dirty as John felt. The kiss was burning her lips, her consciousness, every inch of her body. She scrubbed her body even harder in the tub, tears were building up in her eyes.

But John,  on the other hand, felt peace every time he remembered the kiss. He was in bed, trying to sleep, trying to forget the war on his head. He thought of the kiss, of that bloody kiss that made him tremble and feel nervous again. He tried to understand what it felt, he tried every adjective. He found one, two hours after thinking non-stop about the girl he met that day:

Hope.

The kiss tasted like hope.

taglist: open

@a-golden-sunflower-vol-6

@fifty-shadesof-tommyshelby

@stydia-4-ever

[crossiantgay]

Stronger Than (These Emotions)

Based on the post by @roman-exe about logan romancing roman :)

@tired-logan-kinnie here ya go :D

Most recently, Logan had come across an epiphany. He found himself in a predicament, unlike one he was accustomed to solving. Bluntly, he had fallen in love. And he had fallen hard. He was in a unique circumstance; the person he would have asked for help with all of this, was exactly who he needed help with. He was in love with the epitome of romance. 

Now, to get the obvious out of the way, the best though most risky decision would be to confess his feelings. He could, of course, not speak of his feelings but he knew he could only suppress them for so long and they would come upfront eventually. And he’d rather confess them on his own accord rather than be embarrassed on a slip of the tongue. So, the only option was to confess his feelings. Alright. Now, begged the question of how. He could come right out and say it, and that would be fine. But just fine. It made sense to increase his chances of success, to confess in a way the prince would adore. Roman always talked about those grand acts of love, a prince sweeping a princess off her feet, the stories that Disney and fairy tales produced. Well, there was no way he could make a fairy tale of his own without use of the imagination, but Roman seldom let anyone in there besides Remus so that was unlikely. Still, he could try to win him over. He gnawed on his bottom lip. He was trying to woo the prince of romance. It would be difficult, true but then again Logan liked a challenge. 

    Upon reflection, his feelings originated in one brainstorming session. It was late at night and they had gotten way off track. Roman was rambling about something, editing a paper with a large red crayon and his eyes seemed to sparkle as he talked. His hair was mussed and dark circles were forming under his eyes, but he was just as animated as ever. He was waving his hand about eccentrically as he spoke, making edits with his other hand. Even this late at night, Roman still had the vigor he held early that day. Roman had a passion that none of the others seemed to possess. A deep drive, a fire to always push himself further and Logan admired that. 

    Then there was the incident on a summer’s day. Logan only remembered that because Roman had the blinds drawn wide open, letting the sun illuminate the room. Because of the summer heat, Roman had a fan haphazardly stuck out the window, only the screen holding it from falling (Logan thought it was a bad idea but Roman assured him it would be fine). Logan walked in to tell him something, only to find Roman working at an easel, smeared with paint and downing a loose white shirt that was also coated in paint. There were flecks of it in his hair, making that stick out at imperfect angles. Possibly the most astounding part was what Roman was working on. Before Roman was a vase of flowers set on a couple cardboard boxes and Roman had almost copied it to a tea, of course swapping out the amazon boxes for a white platform. To say it was stunning was an understatement. Logan was snapped out of his thoughts when Roman turned around and unconsciously ran a hand through his hair and grimaced as paint dribbled through his caramel locks, sticking it together in bright green and pink clumps. 

“Nice to see you here, Specs,” Roman said as he wiped his hands off on his shirt.

“Your painting looks phenomenal” Logan said breathlessly, ignoring the question. Even though Roman was extremely talented, he always fumbled at compliments. His cheeks tinted a rosy pink. 

“Th-thanks” He stuttered out and Logan smiled a bit.

“Of course” He shoved his hands in his pockets and looked around the room. They slipped into a conversation, though Logan was only half-invested, letting his mind wander. Roman was so talented, Logan was always stunned when he saw his latest creation. Though he also embodied creativity, he was always impressed when he saw what roman could make. Watching Roman measure out the dimensions for sketches, and combine what was such a natural and impulsive art form with rules and steps, was astounding. Roman was so spontaneous and less rigid than he was, but also followed rules and instructions like he did. Logan began to understand how creativity was intelligence being fun. 

    The next moment that came to mind was far more recently. Logan was sitting on Roman’s bed helping him clean out his closet. Logan was growing a bit bored watching Roman try on shirt after shirt. Logan was studying the bedsheets when roman came out in yet another outfit. 

“Well? What do you think?” Logan’s head snapped up and he had a snarky remark on the tip of his tongue when his breath caught in his throat and he felt his face heat up. Roman was in a red evening dress, which was very curve-hugging. Curves that Roman had. There was a slit cut down one side of the dress, what he believed was a ¾ cut; and it almost seemed to shimmer in the light. It was the perfect mix of elegant and sensual, and it sent a shiver down Logan’s spine. 

“Well-I-uh-” He sputtered as Roman grinned and spun around. Logan buried his head in his hands, pushing his glasses to rest in his hair. 

“I’ll take that as a good sign,” Roman grinned and ran into the bathroom to change. “This one’s definitely a keeper” 

It was about a half an hour past the incident, which he bet Roman would have called a broke gay moment they were almost done with going through his closet. Roman pulled out a hoodie from the back of the closet and looked at it suspiciously. He slipped off his shirt, not even caring about Logan's presence and slid on the hoodie. Logan recognised it immediately. 

“Why do you have my hoodie?” Logan asked, quirking an eyebrow. Roman flapped his arms in the oversized hoodie and Logan ran his eyes down Roman’s outfit. The hoodie fell a few inches above his knees and hung off one shoulder. Roman flipped up the hood and seemed to melt into the warmth. 

“It still smells like you..” He mumbled as his eyes slipped shut. “Like mint and dark chocolate” Logan saw Roman’s knees buckle dangerously and he bolted up, catching Roman and picking him up bridal style as Roman yawned. 

“Maybe we should stop for a bit?” Logan asked, the shock of the surprise not leaving his voice as Roman barely nodded. 

“Just for-” he yawned again “a short nap” Logan nodded a bit and sighed, setting him up on the bed and wrapping him in a blanket. 

“Will you help me finish when I wake up?” Roman cracked an eye open as he turned on his side, looking like a human caterpillar in the blanket. Logan nodded as he smoothed out Roman’s hair. 

“Of course” Roman smiled faintly. 

“Thanks hon-” He yawned again and fell asleep. That was the moment Logan should’ve known he loved Roman. How that pet name made him feel like he was on fire, how much he wanted to cradle Roman to sleep, were indicative signs of a crush Logan dismissed at the time for just being ‘a caring friend’. He could only hope that the others hadn’t discovered his apparent infatuation. If they had, well then he wouldn’t hear the end of it. At the end of the day, he was figuratively head over heels for Roman. He was so deeply in love with every part of him. His passion, his creativity, and he felt shallow for saying this, but Roman was objectively attractive. He didn’t know what he’d do if he didn’t express these feelings sooner or later. 

    The next morning he set his plan into action. He’d do just a few flirty lines and touches, just to figuratively test the water. Roman was stirring his coffee near the coffee maker and Logan walked by to get his mug, brushing hands with him. Roman looked up at him quizzically but Logan ignored him, pretending if nothing had happened. Logan finished making his coffee and went to walk away. As he did, he looked the princely side up and down which brought a pinkish tint to Roman’s cheeks. 

“You look cute today” He smirked and took a sip of his coffee, leaving roman baffled and blushing. He waited a bit before he made his next move, which was at movie night that night. Everyone was crammed on the couch, Virgil retreating to the corner with Janus and Remus on the edge and Patton on the floor because they ran out of space. They were all wearing their respective onesies and the horn of Roman’s beast onesie was poking into Logan’s shoulder. 

At some point into the movie, Roman shivered and Logan noticed, eyes flicking to him. Logan wrapped an arm around him, pulling Roman closer. Roman instinctively cuddled into his side before he realized what he was doing and locked eyes with Logan, blushing noticeably. 

“What? You looked cold” Logan whispered and Roman looked away, snuggling closer to him. 

    The credits were just starting to roll as Logan felt something tickle his jaw. Sure enough, a very sleepy Roman was cuddling him, caramel locks brushing against Logan’s chin and one arm wrapped around him, head nuzzled into his chest. Logan’s heart hammered in his chest at the sight and he blushed a dark crimson. Patton grinned and gave him a thumbs up as Janus started to bring Remus to bed. Virgil sat up and yawned. “You gonna stay down here, Lo?” 

Logan nodded and sighed. “I don’t think I have much of a choice” Patton nodded. 

“You two have fun!” 

“But not too much fun” Janus said instinctively and yawned. Logan nodded and put his glasses on the counter, trying to get into a comfortable position. He held roman loosely and his eyes slipped shut. 

    He woke up early the next morning, by the look of the clock around 4 or so though it was hard to be certain without his glasses. Thankfully, Roman was still asleep. He smiled a bit and played with Roman hair, pulling a blanket over them. Roman yawned and stirred, making Logan instantly curse himself. 

“Shh, shh, stay asleep-” Logan hushed him quickly, to no avail. 

“What? Why’d I-” Roman tried to sit up but Logan continued to hold him. 

“Just go back to sleep, hun. It’s too early I’m sorry I woke you up” Logan blurted out. 

“What’s-” Roman was slurring his words. “What’s goin’ on..?” He sat up and rubbed his eyes 

“I woke you up, I’m sorry it’s like 4 in the morning please go back to sleep” He said hastily and Roman sighed. 

“Tell me-” he yawned “in the morning” There was the warmth pressing against him again as Roman buried his head in the crook of Logan’s neck. 

Logan ran his fingers through Roman’s hair--how is his hair that soft?-- and smiled down at the boy in his arms. He would confess in the morning, right after Roman woke up he would tell him and get everything sorted out. 

But even Logic should be accustomed to the fact that not everything goes to plan. 

    Roman woke up at about 7 that morning, just as the kitchen was filling with people. He stretched, only to lock eyes with a very asleep Logan. He jumped as Logan’s eyes cracked open and he yawned. The memories of last night hit him like a brick wall and he felt his face heat up as he realised he had been cuddling with Logan all night. Logan’s shoulders relaxed and he smiled warmly at Roman, still laced with sleep. 

“Morning,Roro” He adjusted his glasses and ran a hand through Roman’s hair, somewhat fixing his bedhead (Which Logan would never say he thought was adorable). Roman was now a dark crimson, envying the color of his sash. It brought Logan a great deal of pride when he saw how flustered Roman was. 

“Is something wrong, my rose?” Logan asked gently. Roman shook his head and stood up, stuttering out an apology or two as he scrambled off to his room. Logan sighed, sitting up and started getting ready for the day. 

    Logan got to his desk and saw a note written in black ink. It read “meet me in the storage room, 8 tonight”. The note was written today and the writing was barely legible, looking like someone wrote it with their non-dominant hand. That, along with the fact the note was colorless, made it near impossible to tell who sent it. Logan made a reminder for himself at 7:55, this was far too intriguing to let go. 

    The work day seemed to pass by all too slowly, each minute dragging on for a few seconds longer, and all he could think about was who sent the note. By the end of the day, Logan was quite on-edge, being startled by even the drop of a pen. Finally, he heard the quiet beep of his computer, alerting him that the time of apprehension has rolled around. Not that he hadn’t been staring at the clock for several minutes now, anyway. He straightened himself out and made his way to the storage room. He fiddled with the doorknob for a few seconds, just now realizing how sweaty his hands were. He wiped his hands down on his jeans before jiggling the doorknob again, and the door swung open. 

    Roman was standing in the room, arms crossed over his chest and an unamused expression on his face. Logan felt his heart beat quicker and he put on the least-caring expression he could think of. 

“Greetings, Roman. I assume you’re the one that left the cryptic note on my desk?” Roman rolled his eyes before looking at the ground and shoving one hand into his pocket. 

“What is with you, Logan? One second you’re giving me all the pet names like ‘my rose’ and ‘Roro’ and the next you’re acting like we’ve never met!” Oh. so that is what this is about. “Just tell me what’s going on so I can try to help, but I’m sick of this game of two-face!” Logan crossed his arms over his chest and stayed silent. “Because I don’t know if you love me or hate me, and every time I think I’ve done something wrong!” 

“You want answers?” Logan asked, monotone and Roman nodded. 

“Please, Logan! Just tell me what’s-” Logan cupped Roman’s face with both hands and kissed him. So this is what it was like to hold the whole world in your hands. They stayed like that for a few moments before Logan stumbled back as Roman pushed him away. Roman’s chest was heaving and a dark blush was spotting his cheeks. Despite all of this, he looked upset. Had Logan done something wrong?-

“Answers. Now.” Roman crossed his arms over his chest again. Logan scrambled to try and correct his thoughts. Now was the moment of truth, he needed something perfect to say or-or- 

“Logan, focus” Roman’s hands were on his forearms as he looked at Logan with soft eyes, very different from the wild and scared look in his, matching a spooked horse. If Roman truly loved him back, then he wouldn’t need some elegant speech to win him over. Just say what he thought.

“I-I don’t know the right way to say this, and I don’t think I ever will.” He looked down and wrung his hands, on-edge. Roman nodded slowly, his shoulders relaxing. “I love you, Roman. And I have for a while now” Roman’s eyes widened but Logan continued. “I love every part of you. Your passion, your creativity,” Logan laughed a bit “even your bedhead.” Roman looked away, the blush more prominent on his face. “All this time, I was trying to come out with some grand gesture to confess my love for you, something equal to the fairy-tale rescues you are always admiring” Roman went to step towards him, and Logan flinched involuntarily, incredibly alert and vulnerable now. A lot more than he was used to being. “And I’m saying you have to feel the same way, I just wanted to tell you how I feel. In no way am I expecting you to have the same-” Roman’s lips met his again. This one was soft and gentle, like the steady crashing of waves. Logan thought he might just melt into a pulled of stunned bliss as his hands slowly found their way to wrap around Roman’s waist. Eventually, Roman pulled away, a wide grin on his face, probably matching Logan’s own. 

“Hypocrite,” he muttered, a smile ever-present on his face and Roman giggled. Logan thought he was having a heart attack and had slipped into a coma. That was the only explanation, this was too perfect and sweet and somehow everything he ever wanted. He’d have to have one more kiss to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. And maybe another one after that. 

    Later that night as he was sitting on the couch with his now-boyfriend fast asleep and tucked into his side, he had finally found the state of Schrodinger's cat, had seen the dark side of the moon, and had found his whole world. And it could be summarized into one word. One glorious, extravagant word that represented someone who always made things more complicated than they needed to be, who wasn’t afraid to belt out musical ballads at ungodly hours of the night, and to him was the ying to his yang. To him, someone who was perfectly imperfect and someone he was certain he wanted to be with his whole life. And that person’s name was Roman.