#Latte's grumpiness will be revealed in time

[caffeinerabbit]

Think I'm going to bring my old lopunny OC Latte into Benji's PMD setting.

She's a jaded, semi-retired Rescue/Exploration team veteran, and she and Benji can't stand one another. The Guild assigns her to be his team's mentor, much to their mutual displeasure.

[ddoxhan]

your existence

like your shining smile, you brighten up my world with your existence

word count : 1.9k words

genre : fluff; when hanni comes over to blue rain for her cup of coffee but after you clocked in to work; florist!hanni x fem!reader (a year older than hanni); BREAKING: actual sighting of two lovesick puppies

t/w : none :)

a/n : here's part 2 as requested by y'all <3 there will be a part 3 with the way I ended this but it will take some time as I have loads of assignments to finish :') meanwhile, here's this to enjoy !!

usually, the florist comes over real early for her regular vanilla latte, making her the first customer of the day. however, she decides to sleep in a little before starting her routine, and you decided to show up a little earlier after running late twice. (chaewon was going to cut your pay and you were here to make some extra to buy that switch)

that meant, chaewon would usually be the one opening the shop to make the first drink of the day for hanni. you, being a nice friend and employee decided to open the shop for her this time round because fingers crossed, minju might actually let you off early on some days when she comes to know of your good deed. (or maybe you just know your crush comes over early for her coffee and you want to see the most beautiful person in the world to start your day)

you pedaled harder than usual with spring love songs playing in your earphones, scaring chaewon a little when you blasted your spring playlist in the cafe because you were one grumpy kid during the season of spring. (she had experienced it thrice and was extremely ready to get you to try a dating app)

it was undeniable that even you yourself, felt that you were more giddy and giggly recently, because of a certain someone who works at the florist shop that is two lots before blue rain. it took you some time to realize that you were crushing on her and when you told chaewon and minju, the two looked at each other before hugging you at the same time. they were so proud that you finally like someone, perhaps even love, as they were so worried you might actually die alone in the future. (jokes aside, they genuinely thought you were asexual at one point)

although it was slightly tough trying to open the cafe on your own for the first time, you did a pretty good job at managing things. coffee machines, tables and chairs, windows, floors, even the storage room. you made sure everything was in place before you flipped the 'closed' sign to 'open'. the clock struck 8 and your favourite person should step in anytime soon to get her usual vanilla latte. (the coffees weren't your expertise, but you learnt the vanilla latte specifically from chaewon so that you'd be able to make her favourite drink anytime she drops by)

30 minutes passed by and still no sign of her. it was weird since she was always on time with opening the shop, and you were growing worried that she might be sick and decided to close for the day. if that was the case, you'd clock out this instant to check up on her. how did you come to know where she lived? you decided to offer to walk her back one day when you were about to ride back to your place, seizing the chance to spend more time with your crush.

she gladly accepted your offer, the smile on your face widening so obviously that the girl had to look away to stop herself from smiling too, and from falling even harder for you than she already did. riding your bike would take less than 5 minutes but walking would take about 15 and no way were you choosing the bike. she was the one who asked, and seeing how you refused to ride and walk instead, made her feel hopeful that you felt the same way that she did. (at first, it was one lovesick puppy, now it's two)

just as you were ready to grab your coat, the bell on the door rang as it opened, revealing the one and only person you had been waiting in nervousness the entire morning.

"morning, unnie! I didn't think I'd see you here this early."

hanni flashes you her signature smile that literally has your heart skip a beat, each and every time without failure. somehow, you wish it stays that way because the butterflies makes you feel all giddy on the inside, and the only person who succeeds in doing it is her.

"good morning, hanni. you know, just happened to wake up early. the usual right?"

when you tried your best and you don't succeed. yeah, the nonchalant reply did nothing to mask the intention of yours to see her and even have her drink order embedded in your head.

"hmm, I come here so often that you remember my orders."

as you keyed in her order into the cashier, she leans closer to the machine, looking at you from an angle that has you swooning over her adorable antics, but you did a fairly good job at hiding it from your face.

"of course, you're our favourite customer."

"are you sure? or am I your favourite customer?"

but her flirting always gets you down bad for her, it's like she has done this many times before. the thought of it kills you on the inside a little but you didn't jump to conclusion on the spot, knowing it's not right to do so. (and to be honest, hanni's been in a relationship only once and that was back in elementary school. so that's invalid, meaning she just really loved teasing you and see you turn into a red tomato)

"o-of course! chaewon-unnie and minju-unnie likes you a lot too..."

a red tomato you turned into indeed. to ease down that burning blush, you attempted to cool down by running your hand down your nape. but every time you feel like you calmed down, she pulls another move on you to make you turn into a darker shade of red.

"aww, that's a shame, cause you are my favourite barista."

"I'll get your drink done in a few minutes!"

all you could do was look away and shut your eyes close, distracting yourself with work so you don't hyperventilate and walk over the counter to hug hanni. the urge was so strong, but so was your self control. (at times like this, why is your self control so good? it should be like this when you shop)

"cute..."

while you were trying your best to avoid eye contact due to your very evident crimson ears, hanni just stared harder from the side. she found the way that you were just so shy but tried hard to not be, extremely endearing.

and one of the reasons is because she likes you so much that everything about you was adorable to her. you being slightly shorter, the dimples that appear when you laugh, your habit of scrunching your nose occasionally. this girl was head over heels for you but you were so dense, you could never tell. (and her too, that you literally just blush so hard because you like her, a lot. she thought you were just a really shy person)

"here's your vanilla latte, have a great day!"

you were trying very hard to brush away those compliments from your mind and tell yourself that she was just being friendly. although hanni was really just blatantly flirting with you, quoted from chaewon. for real, it made her so frustrated that you two really were just two dumb puppies who couldn't realize each other's feelings for one another.

"thanks unnie! and no worries, it's already extremely great when I get to see my favourite barista."

as you handed her the cup, the slight brush of her hand over yours drove your brain into overdrive and you just stopped functioning. it didn't help that she even winked at you as she said that before stepping out of the cafe to head back to the florist shop.

all you could do was stand there like an idiot you are, again quoted from chaewon. you could always trust her to roast you like no tomorrow but she only does that because she cares for you like you're her little baby sister. (she actually shed a tear when you told her that you have feelings for hanni)

speaking of the devil, the front door opens revealing her as she steps in with knitted brows due to you having your mouth open with widened eyes.

"what are you doing?"

just as you heard her speak, that was only when you snapped out of your daze.

"hanni just called me her favourite barista..."

"well, congratulations on finally realizing."

the unsurprised and dry tone made you glare at her, a huge contrast of whatever happened earlier. if hanni made you feel butterflies and brightened up the store like the sun, chaewon's reply brought the rain with her. very inclined with the cafe's name.

"you knew?"

"oh my god, you're one clueless idiot."

you clearly saw how she rolled her eyes, as if being very done with whatever she's going through. (of course she is, she literally has to witness every time hanni drops by and see you two all giggly like high school girls)

"and what's that supposed to mean?"

"exactly what it's suppose to mean."

all she really wishes is for you and hanni to get together as soon as possible cause this whole situation is just so suffocating for her. her and minju didn't even last a week of flirting cause chaewon quite literally asked her to be her girlfriend when they were on their third date. by giving her a kiss by the way. (if you were on a bicycle, she was on a bulldozer)

"I hate you."

although you muttered under your breath, if it comes to things said about her (and her girlfriend), she develops an amazing sense of hearing. and you really just wish that you kept your mouth shut during these kind of times.

"I heard that, and I'll be cutting out three days of salary from your total."

"I love you so much, ms. chaewon. you're the best boss. I'll head to the storeroom to check on the stocks."

flashing your capitalist smile, you headed to the back knowing she'll let you off the hook. chaewon might make it seem like she's annoyed and very done with you, but it makes you feel very warm. being the only child in the family, you've always wished to have a brother or sister who you could rely on. you've always had a hard time expressing your feelings and thoughts, and without even needing to say anything, she's always there for you to lean onto. just like a sister.

you smile to yourself, thinking about how you've come to enjoy your days recently. chaewon, minju, and hanni. you couldn't ask for more from god cause he blessed you with the existence of these three people in your life. a sister, a good friend, and? a crush?

leaning back against the wall, you wondered. crush doesn't really sound that nice. perhaps you should make it girlfriend. yeah, that rolls off your tongue so much better. maybe you should finally confess, after 3 months of meeting hanni. you do have to admit that after she appeared in your life, days have been nothing but cherry blossoms and spring breezes for you. you constantly remind yourself that you were the person who hated spring with their guts.

you changed the moment you met her that day where those baby breaths and lemon candies brought you two together, and that's when you knew.

her existence made you love spring, as she was your spring.

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[bobbie-robron]

Robron Fanfiction Recommendations (Dec-2022)

The below were recommended during Dec-2022 on Twitter.

A Knight in Pineapple Armor (2016) 58.7K words, ScrapyardBoyfriends

After nine years of being exiled from the Kingdom of E**erdale, Prince Robert has returned with the Whites in tow hoping to take his rightful place as King Jack’s heir but, with his exile, Andy has become the successor. After whispers from Victoria, Jack decides to throw a tourney with whoever winning (Robert or Andy), taking on the next in line. Enter blacksmith Aaron who volunteers to make Robert’s pineapple ‘it’s a metaphor’ armor. Aaron also becomes Robert’s squire, a role he performed previously but one marred with a disturbing past. As the two grow closer, will Robert need to choose between Aaron and becoming heir/marrying Chrissie?

So What Do You Want Them to Say When You’re Gone? (That You Gave Up or That You Kept Going On?) (2018) 1.8K words, Specificity

Liv alerts Aaron (with her own wrong conclusions) when she spots Robert with flowers at the cemetery. Aaron completely trusts Robert but decides to check on him to ensure he’s alright. The reason Robert is at the cemetery is quite sweet…

Read All About It (2017) 89.9K words, robron_til_the_end

Robert is the new arts and music editor at The Standard. When the paper is chosen to interview the elusive guitarist of the band Messenger, Aaron, Robert takes the lead with it. Soon enough the two become involved but with the band on the road, the press and public on Aaron’s heels (especially since coming out gay) and Robert’s job on the line due to potential conflict of interest, do they have a real chance of making a go of it after their relationship becomes known?

A Tail of Two Worlds (2017) 20.0K words, Robron101

Aaron is an immortal merman who is infatuated with a runner on the beach, Robert. He makes a deal with witch Chrissie to walk on lad and is given 30 days for Robert to fall in love with him. If by that time that does not happen, Aaron’s immortality would be taken from him and he would die. But the deal also reveals a secret Chrissie kept from him since he’s known her.

Promise me you’ll always be a friend (2017) 16.3K words EscapingReality51

Robert is close to three people: his sister and her husband Adam and Aaron. Robert is attending a community mix held by the Whites and asks Aaron to come along to ensure Chrissie isn’t thrown at him. When he tells his mum Sarah about Aaron, she thinks they’ve finally gotten together so the two end up pretending to be boyfriends. When Jack reaches out favorably, Robert wants to continue the charade. Add Ed into the mix and Aaron’s feelings toward Robert and what was pretend may become reality…

I love you a latte series (2016) 8.0K words wafflesofdoom

Two stories in the series. The first, Robert, who is working on a business plan for a potential new venture while working as bartender, comes across a new grumpy barista at his old coffee shop haunt, The Grind. Well, what more incentive is there then to keep returning for the coffee… and the blue-eyed barista he’s becomes smitten with. The second story focuses on key points in their relationship.

About-Face (2015) 20.7K words, robronsugsy

It’s Robert’s wedding day to Chrissie and things go through without a worry especially after he tells an in love Aaron that he means nothing to him. Aaron winds up apparently leaving the village for good (jarring Robert) and the newlyweds on their honeymoon. Two months later, after a not so great honeymoon, Robert is back… but so is Aaron… engaged to Ed and ready to walk down the aisle in a week. Will the wedding happen and will Robert realize just how important Aaron is to him?

Know Now, That I Know (2018) 2.7K words, miss_whimsy

It’s Valentine’s 2019 and the lads have been together (more or less) for five years and in all that time they haven’t celebrated the day properly. Well, Aaron’s gonna rectify that by doing something special for Robert. Sweet and fluffy.

[mediocre-daydreams]

pov: your camera roll if you were dating bucky barnes

when bucky first returned from wakanda, he was overwhelmed by the food options. you took him to get pizza, claiming "everyone likes pizza!" from then on, he proclaimed it his favorite food. (not that it had anything to do with the fact that he got to spend more time with you everytime you'd tag along to get a slice.)

natasha had dragged you and yelena out for a girl's night at a vineyard, where the three of you took advantage of stark's black card and got absolutely smashed. you'd called bucky to pick the three of you up, and he'd tried to take a picture of you, laughing at how carefree and adorable you looked while drunk. unfortunately, he'd flipped the camera to selfie mode.

you'd asked bucky why he only took his coffee black. he revealed that it wasn't because of a preference, but because he'd never had coffee any other way. scandalized, you dragged him to a café the next day and caught a picture of him mid-laugh as he marveled at the latte art on the drink you'd ordered him.

bucky never attended any of tony's parties, claiming there was no reason to since he couldn't get drunk. once he met you, though, he "suddenly" became quite the party animal. that night, thor had brought asgardian liquor and bucky went a bit overboard. you and sam got a kick out of an inebriated bucky shamelessly showering you in compliments and clinging onto you all night like a lost puppy.

bucky was exhausted after a long meeting with senator ross, where he was belittled and passive-aggressively patronized the entire time. he was ready to sulk in silence; instead, you cut him some fruit and brushed his hair, whispering sweet things to him until he fell asleep. that was when he realized he loved you.

maybe it wasn't the smartest idea to ask tony if you could fly in one of his suits. so what? it's not like you broke any bones. bucky could never find it in himself to be mad at you, but he did grumble the entire time he carried you to dr. cho's office, insisting that you shouldn't be walking on a sprained ankle. (once cho cleared you, bucky administered his own medicine: kisses to make the boo boos go away.)

you'd never listened to sam and wanda every time they told you how bucky looked at you with the stupidest lovesick eyes, like he was worshipping a deity. it was only until you captured the look on camera that you believed it. that was the moment you realized how far you'd fallen in love with him.

you and bucky had gone on a double date to coney island with sam and his girlfriend. maybe it was the cotton candy sugar crash or simply a sleepy delirium, but on the way back to the tower, you caught a rare picture of bucky, completely relaxed and laughing unrestrained. you blamed it on the leftover excitement from the day, but steve had told you that ever since you entered bucky's life, he'd never seen his friend happier.

after returning from a long mission, all bucky wanted to do was take a long bath with you and use the new pink bath bombs you'd bought him. instead, he was dragged to a debriefing meeting where he'd sat at the table all broody and grumpy. he glared at you, thinking it was sam coming to bother him again, but when i saw it was you, he peppered your face in kisses until tony had called it disgusting and kicked the two of you out. bucky was more than willing to oblige.

.・��.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

moodboard made by me (i do not own any of these images)

taglist: (comment to be added)

@yourallihave @bambamwolf87 @im-a-slut-for-fluff

marvel masterlist | main masterlist

[beccascribbles]

inarizaki and their love language

physical touch

atsumu’s hand finds yours easily, fingers curling around your own as he pulls you down into the seat beside him. your hip knocks against his, thigh pressing up against his own. now that you are beside him, his hand finds its home on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze as his attention remains focused on kita sitting across from you. his thumb strokes along your thigh, movements alternating between a gentle circling or a smooth up and down motion.

as you join in the conversation, he finds his gaze being drawn to you, and can’t help brushing a kiss to the side of your head, much to the disgust of osamu who feigns throwing up. you look up at him, eyebrows furrowed even as a soft smile tugs at your lips.

“what was that for?” you question, giving him a small nudge with your elbow. atsumu doesn’t reply - he doesn’t feel the need to. instead, he reaches out to grab your hand resting on the table and bringing it down to your lap, tangling your fingers together beneath the table. his own hand is rested against the top of your thigh, and you teasingly attempt to pull away your hand. glancing upwards, you see a slight pout form on his lips, followed by the tightening of his fingers around your own.

with a small giggle, you lean up to press a kiss to his jaw, the action making a smile spread across his face, the expression so lovesick osamu can’t resist reaching across the table and flicking his forehead.

“get a grip,” he teased, “you’ve got plenty of time to make such stupid expressions when it’s just you two.”

“mind yer own business,” grumbled atsumu. “ya don’t see me making fun of you and yer partner.”

acts of service

“morning samu,” you greeted, arms stretching above your head as you let out a loud yawn, the hem of the t-shirt you were wearing - his t-shirt - raising to reveal a smooth expanse of skin.

“morning,” he replied, leaning forward to brush a brief kiss to your lips before gesturing over to the kitchen table, where a mug of coffee was waiting for you. “i made ya coffee. know how grumpy ya get without a little caffeine in yer system.”

though the words seemed to indicate a level of annoyance with your dependence on the substance, the coffee itself was made with care. osamu had spent a few weeks perfecting his latte art skills, and this was made clear by the perfect heart that adorned the top of your coffee. you felt a wide grin tug at your lips and wrapped your hands around the mug, moving as if to disappear from the kitchen.

“sit down,” said osamu, pulling your chair out with his foot as he balanced two plates of breakfast in his hands. he placed one plate in front of your seat before moving to the opposite side of the table were he placed his own. “ya need to eat, no relying on just coffee. i also made ya some onigiri for lunch. it’s in yer bag so ya won’t forget it.”

quality time

you let out a laugh, the grape suna had thrown at you hitting your forehead and falling to the floor. it was the fifth attempt at trying to catch a grape in your mouth, and, evidently, it wasn’t going to happen any time soon. suna had managed to do it his first time, though you insisted that had more to do with your aim than his catching skills.

“come on,” you pleaded, “let me try again.”

“no,” he said, picking up a grape and popping it in his mouth. “clearly you’re too uncoordinated to be able to and we don’t have 100 grapes going spare.”

“it wouldn’t take that long,” you pouted, lunging forward and grabbing a grape. “besides, it’s all your fault. i bet i can do it first time if i throw it in the air.”

he leant back, arms crossing over his chest as he shot you a lazy smirk. “you can try.”

and try you did. you threw the grape upwards in a perfectly straight line. all you needed to do was get under it, something you struggled with, the grape bouncing off your cheek and landing on the floor.

“maybe i can’t do it,” you admitted in a mumble, hoping the words would go unnoticed by suna. it didn’t, the smirk on his face widening, as he shook his head.

“you’re useless,” he chuckled, reaching for a grape. instead of eating it however, he prepared to throw it at you. “come on, get ready. i’m sure you can do it this time.”

acts of service

“you’re cold,” observed kita as you shivered beside him, your arms wrapped tight around your body. you shot him an incredulous look, about to bite back at him when he reached for the bag hanging from his shoulder. he let out a sigh. “i knew you would be but you never listen. you didn’t even pack gloves or even a hat.”

as he berated you for your stupidity, he was pulling out a lump of material from his bag, closer inspection of the item revealing it to be a fleece, the one he wore when he was out working the fields. he unfolded it, taking the hat and gloves that were wrapped up in the material. without a word, he handed the gloves to you, motioning for you to put them on. his attention then turned to the hat, which he gently placed on your head, tugging it over your ears.

“turn around,” he directed, holding the fleece up. you turned away from him, holding out your arms and letting him dress you. he spun you back around, hands moving to the zip and tugging it upwards until your chin disappeared beneath the collar. he questioned, “better now?”

you nodded, already feeling warmer, and incredibly grateful that your partner was so thoughtful. even though you nodded, he still didn’t look satisfied, taking note of the slight shiver, a sign your body was still struggling to regulate its temperature. kita reached into his bag once again, pulling out a flask and unscrewing it. “i wasn’t planning on opening this until we reached the top but here, it’ll warm you up.”

you took it, wrapping your hands around the flask and taking a sip, the taste of chocolate flooding your mouth. you let out a content sigh. “thank you, shin.”

words of affirmation

“even after all this time, i’m still crazy about you,” he sighed, pulling your attention away from the show that was currently playing on the tv. you turned to him, head tilted in a quizzical manner. you knew this; it was clear from the constant ‘i love you’ and the praise he showered you with.

“what’s brought this about?” you asked, hand reaching for the remote so you could pause the tv. his grin only widened, and his next words were confident.

“because i love you,” he said, enjoying the way you ducked your head shyly, the way a smile played at the corners of your lips. “you know what? i love everything about you. you always work so hard, in your job and around the home. you really are perfect, y/n.”

“i wouldn’t say that,” you replied, waving your hand at him bashfully. you would have thought you would have got used to ojiro’s compliments after years together, but they still left you feeling flushed. at times, you felt undeserving of them, couldn’t see what he so clearly saw in you.

“i would.”

a/n - series potential where i do it with the other teams?? i mean probably but let me know what you think. genuinely been spending most of my time writing recently (what is uni? we don’t know her) so it is more than likely going to happen. let me know what team you are interested in seeing and i hope you enjoyed!

[dat-town]

not gonna miss this chance

Characters: Han Seojun & soloist!female reader

Genre: fluff

Setting: true beauty au, set a year after the tv show’s ending timeline

Summary: Your career is on the verge of ending, hence your management puts you up to do a duet with the infamous Han Seojun. You have heard too many rumours about him to keep track of and yet, none of them could have prepared you for the feelings that came with meeting him.

Words: 4.1k

Self indulgent little snippet because he deserves happiness too.

You had heard of Han Seojun before meeting him, of course you had. Everybody who was in the industry had heard of the hot trend of a Newstagram star-turned idol and his band's shining debut from a year ago. They were told to have snatched teenage girls hearts all over Korea with their good looks and soulful music. You had heard their title track and you had to admit it was nice but nice wasn't enough in a cut-throat industry like entertainment.

Look at you, starting training at twelve, debuting at fifteen and now barely twenty-one you were on the verge of becoming a thrown away doll. Once you had been called cute and the it girl of your generation and now? People were saying you got boring just because your music had matured. Gosh, you couldn't keep singing about first love like your hit song had been for the rest of your life for god's sake. Your last album had been a flop, your company had been losing money and you were still afraid that even with a year left of your contract, they would cut you. But your manager had begged them for a chance and here it was: a collaboration with the newest love of Korea.

But the thing was, Han Seojun had quite a reputation and you didn't know who to believe. Some said he was well-mannered and hard-working. Others gossiped that he was always flirting with his makeup artists and Chen claimed he had been rude to her even when he had just been a ‘nobody’. Not that you were particularly fond of Chen either but as a fellow solo female singer you were a tad bit worried how the infamous singer would treat you.

Well, standing in front of Move Entertainment, you were just about to find out. Taking a shallow breath you followed your manager's lead, bowing to the receptionist and getting into the elevator after taking your visitor's badge. You had heard the company has gone through many changes after the executives were replaced due to the revealed Seyeon scandal but everything looked expensive, shiny and new, unlike in your small agency.

“Hey, I’m Lim Heekyung, nice to meet you. Seojun will be in a minute, too,” a woman in a pantsuit walked up to you on the right floor with a confident smile as she introduced herself. She led you to a meeting room which was apparently customized for a few people only and started preparing papers. She looked excited which was a relief and nice to see, at least someone from Move Entertainment was happy for this project apparently. You were a bit afraid they would see you like a leech, trying to cling onto their new star’s popularity.

“Shall we start? Seojun is a fan of dramatic entrances anyways,” Miss Lim laughed joyfully as if it wasn’t new to her that the idol didn’t make it on time. Ah yeah, you had heard rumours saying that he had something on the company and that was why they were so lenient with him.

You sat in silence, let your manager do the talk about the collaboration project. Seojun could play the guitar, you could play the piano, apparently it was perfect for a ballad duet, though if you used instruments yourself it added to the preparations time. But luckily, there was a songwriter named Leo at the company who had already sent in a few samples specifically for Seojun, so you didn’t have to start from zero.

“Ah, I see you started without me. What did I miss?” A tall boy opened the door wide and flipped down onto the chair across you casually. He had grown into his lanky limbs and with those wide shoulders hugged by the leather jacket, helix earrings in one ear and soft brown hair brushed to one side, it wasn’t a surprise how many female fans swooned over him. But there were a lot of handsome boys in the business, just his looks – no matter how confident he was in them based on the way he carried himself – wouldn’t make a difference.

Miss Lim patiently let Seojun know about the advances and only when she mentioned your name, did the boy glance at you. His dark brown eyes had a sharp form, just as piercing as his gaze, but the cunning smile spreading over his lips softened it a bit. He looked at you as if he wanted to see through you, to figure out how he should have approached you. You expected a snarky or arrogant comment, but in the end, he just flashed a blinding smile at you, one you could see on his posters, before turning back to Miss Lim.

“What’s the schedule?” he asked simply and you both were notified about the deadline of deciding and finalizing the song, the dates of planned recording sessions and the photoshoot. Since there would be no promotion period, it all would be done within a month and half from start to finish. You were a bit relieved hearing that and leave Move Entertainment without any confrontation.

You thought you were good at masking your wary feelings since the further meetings went well and the first recording session went okay-ish. Although both of you had been a bit scolded by the producer for not putting enough feelings into your singing. He claimed that the demo sent by Leo was much more emotional which made Seojun scoff and mumble under his nose. The PD called it for a day, making you promise to practice for next time and one by one they all left. Your manager told you that he would bring the car while you refresh yourself in the bathroom, so you really didn’t expect anyone to wait for you when you stepped out of the restroom, much less Han Seojun.

"Spit it out," he bit out barely glancing your way as he leaned against the corridor’s wall.

"What?" you spluttered as you were really taken aback by his out of blue appearance and question. The guy let out a tired sigh at your obliviousness and pushed himself away from the wall just to walk up to you, towering over your height with his.

"You look at me as if I killed your hamster or something. Which rumour about me bothers you? I fucking can't keep walking on eggshells around you, especially when it's just the two of us," he tsked and you gulped at the sudden called out. You didn’t think it bothered him, or that he was considerate enough to ‘walk on eggshells around you’, you merely thought he was so distant from everybody. It was still better than what Chen had told you.

"Oh, I… nothing. It's stupid. Sorry," you mumbled, feeling embarrassed for your your actions but Seojun apparently wasn’t satisfied without a real answer as he carried on:

"I didn't bully kids in high school but I threatened ones that deserved it, I didn't only get a pity chance from the entertainment, one of our makeup artists is actually one of my best friends, I'm not…"

"Chen told me you are rude and arrogant and have no respect for girls," you blurted out to stop him from speaking because you felt like you didn’t deserve to hear all that. He didn’t owe you any explanation for the way he was. You were just co-workers for a project after all, you had no place in his life, nor he had in yours, so he shouldn’t have been that bothered by your opinion but you understood that he felt uncomfortable due to your silent accusations.

Hearing your hasty interruption, the singer scoffed, a laugh-like sound leaving his mouth.

"Well, I have no respect for girls like Chen who harass my friends and turn their lives into hell just to go on a date with me," he said and it made you blink slowly.

"Oh."

"Yeah, oh. Check your facts before you go around believing such crap," Seojun stepped back with a roll of his eyes.

The whole situation made you feel made about how you acted, so you wished to apologise but it fell from your lips all too carelessly: "Sorry, I was just worried. This is my last chance, so–"

"Last chance?" the guy quirked a brow at you, curious but you quickly waved his question away.

"Nevermind, I just need this song to do well."

"Of course, it will. I'm Han Seojun, it will turn to gold under my hands," he grinned and made eccentric gestures as if he was about to do magic. You couldn't help a smile. “Or well, vocal chords.”

And turn it to gold, he did.

The rest of your recording sessions went smoother, even the previously grumpy PD complimented your for the development in your chemistry. Funny, you wouldn’t have thought that the wall pulled up between the two of you mattered that much, but at least you didn’t have a knot in your stomach, nor did you worry about every small thing you did around Han Seojun. He also acted more casual, more playful, joking around when both of you had a bit of time to take a breather. He snapped silly pictures, showed off with his height, smirked when he got too close but despite all his bravado and lowkey flirting, you believed even he wouldn’t have jeopardised his career over something like this.

Maybe that's why wrapping up the recording felt a tad bit weird: you got used to his presence, his jokes, his beautiful, deep voice that you could have fallen asleep to. Sure, sometimes he was cocky, a bit rough around the edges but he was a great singer and a fun guy. The project seemed to work out well and you loved it a lot, so you hoped the listeners would appreciate it as well.

But before all that you had one photo shoot together for the promotional pictures and the single's cover. You were grateful for the simple pastel colour background and elegant setting. The warm light latte colour and the clock in the background really fit the song's vibe. Luckily, your dress was decent and pretty as well, you didn't have to feel uncomfortable in it at least.  However, you didn’t expect that happy yelp coming from one of the makeup artists stepping into the dressing room. You turned to face the girl, wondering whether she was your fan judged by her excitement.

"Oh my! I'm so happy to finally meet you! Seojun told us about you so much!" she beamed at you which obviously took you back. Well, that you didn’t expect at all. He spoke of you to others? Ah. Apparently to the makeup artist who was most probably that certain one of his best friends he had told you about?

"Don't exaggerate, Imju, I mentioned her like what… once?" Seojun walked in on cue. He rolled his eyes and cleared his throat, trying to avert the topic. "How's Suho?"

You had know idea who that said guy was but after a moment or two you could breathe properly once again while listening to their chatting.

“Just the usual. He’s excited about your duet.”

“Of course, he is,” Seojun grinned, a bit snarky but you could hear the proud undertones of it. When he looked at you, you were surprised by him leaning close though as he quieted down until only you could hear it. “Don’t worry, Jugyeong is really good and just stop her if she gets too gossip-y.”

“Are you talking about me behind my back, hah, Han Seojun?” The pretty girl called Jugyeong raised her fist as if she was about to hit the idol but he just laughed it off and left you two alone when he was hurried onto the set to start with his individual shoots.

“Have you known each other for a long time?” you couldn’t help but wonder as you were seated to get your makeup from her.

“Ah, almost 4 years, I think. We went to high school together. Plus, he’s best friends with my boyfriend. Though, they are always bickering like a married couple,” Jugyeong chuckled joyfully as she started with the cushion. You closed your eyes, listening as she kept going on about the time when Seojun had been obsessed with his motorbike, getting into trouble with his mother. It was strange hearing about a whole other side of him, mama's boy but the image tugged on your mouth, making you smile even though you weren't sure you had the right to know all that. You also learned that Seojun's sister was dating Jugyeong's brother and you felt so involved with the girl's trust albeit it was your last meeting, you were sure Seojun must have only told good things about you.

Hence, you felt shy under his knowing gaze when you walked out of the dressing room. He must have known that Jugyeong couldn't shut up for the life of her, so he looked a bit uncertain, too, stretching the back of his neck, forcing a cunning smile onto his smile when you took your place next to him.

To fit the ballad's theme, the setting was a piano decorated with flowers and you were instructed to sit beside him as if you were about to play a four hands piece. As you did what you had been told, you were very much aware of the way your arms brushed, his long fingers over the keys close to yours, his smile small but genuine.

"Great, great, guys! Someone help her onto the piano and Seojun, stand in front of her," the photographer directed the next scene but before any staff members would have rushed up to you, the singer next to you shushed them.

"I can do it," he insisted as he stood up and looked you in the eyes, silently asking for permission. You nodded while holding your breath back before Seojun put his hands on your waist above the fluffy tulle skirt part and counting on three, he lifted you onto the lid of the beautiful instrument.

You crossed your legs, watching in awe as your pink skirt fell down on waves  but your breath hitched for an entirely different reason when you looked up, gaze meeting Seojun's feline eyes trained on you. You had never seen him look at you like that, lacking playfulness or suspicion or curiosity. He looked open, vulnerable, outright starstruck. Your lips parted meaning to ask something but your brain shut off when you heard the shutter of the camera go down and the director yelling compliments at you. It made you snap out of it and later, you blamed the evident blush on your cheeks on the makeup. Seojun blinked too, his guarded expression back in no time, finishing the photo shoot professionally, always lingering close to you, but never touching you. Even though you wouldn’t have minded.

"Hey," Seojun peeked into your dressing room just as you were about to leave, packing up, with a smile on his mouth and sparkles in his deep brown eyes. But unlike half an hour ago when he wore a fancy suit and looked at you like a prince would have looked at his princess, he acted just as casual as he looked in his denim jacket over dark tee. "Wanna grab something with me if you finished for today?"

His question took you back but first thing first you glanced towards your manager, eyes begging for permission which you had gotten with a sigh.

"Just be discreet and call me if you need me to pick you up," your manager shrugged, leaving you two alone with a knowing look that told you to be careful. You didn't need to be told though, you knew how much depended on the current public response to your image.

"Seems like a green light. Have you thought of anything specific?" you turned back to the boy with a subtle smile.

"Not really but I know a few less frequent, secluded places to avoid much talk about us," he said and you nodded, following his lead. Masks, caps and hoodies on, you barely talk on your way to the tent with the lovely ahjumma who welcomed Seojun (two heads taller than her) with a pinch of his cheeks and told you to get seated.

"Are you a regular here?" you inquire, carefully pulling down your mask since not many people are around.

"You could say that," the boy hummed letting you adjust to the place at your own pace, not pressuring you with extra reassessments about how safe it is there. Yet, he is so casual as if he wasn't afraid of a getting mobbed by Dispatch out of the blue. Not that it happened to you a lot of times but you heard stories and at such a crucial time in your career, you feared something like that more than anything.

"Do you want to come up to mine instead?" Seojun blurted out suddenly which made you wide eyed in a span of a moment as you splattered out a surprised yelp. "Come on, I don't mean anything by it. You just look really nervous being in the public," the singer said, his deep voice softening, soothing by the end and you needed to take a breather before answering. You didn't think it was so obvious but apparently you had never been a good liar with him.

In the end, you decided on going over to Seojun's place, so he asked the ahjumma to pack your food to go and you headed towards his flat a few blocks from the company. It was a small but cozy place, much softer and brighter than you expected, lots of pastels and photos of friends and family. While the boy busied himself in the kitchen, getting you plates, chopsticks and beer, you were encouraged to look around and you couldn't help but smile at his photos with not only his band members but high school friends, too. You had seen photos of his graduation with Jugyeong, then another one of his debut with her and another guy.  He was a recurring person on a lot of pictures, so you assumed that he was the so-called Suho.

"He's Jugyeong's boyfriend," Seojun affirmed as he walked up to you which you acknowledged with a hum and smiled at his photos with his sister and mother. The makeup artist was right when she said he was only tough on the outside.

"You knew Seyeon?" you whispered as your gaze shifted of a picture of three boys smiling widely into the camera. The middle one was the talented boy you had known  from the news of his committed suicide. Such a tragedy.

"Uhum. We were best friends. Him, Suho and me," Seojun nodded and without having to ask, he told you how they had gotten to know each other, what were their favourite past time activities and how they fell apart when he died. You could see he was hurting even now as he was talking about it, so you grazed your fingers against his knuckles as though to say you were there for him to listen, or whatever he needed.

Talking about his best friends and how a group of guys including someone named Chorong stuck by his side over the years warmed your heart. It was nice to know that not everyone had it as lonely as you who basically missed out on high school and memories from that time to be able to turn your dreams into reality. Your only friends were also in the industry but it made things both easier and harder.

"What about you? What did you mean by this being your last chance?" Seojun asked like a loaded gun but after everything he had just told you, you knew you could trust him with this and being in the industry for a while now, he must have understood, too.

You told him about the rising expectations, about your image and your company's ultimatum. It actually felt nice to talk about with someone other than your manager. Especially since Seojun seemed to understand exactly why you felt conflicted over the matter. You have given your youth to this dream of yours, so giving up on it would have felt like betraying yourself and everyone who believed in you but you weren't sure you could give it another 10 years of your life no matter how much you liked music. You had decent CSATs result, maybe you could have applied for a university program. Seojun even offered to arrange a meeting between you and Suho who was studying to become a proper songwriter.

You talked for hours and ate the tteokbokki even though it had gotten cold long ago and you couldn't remember when was the last time you had felt so light. You felt giddy even with just the tiny bit of alcohol in your system by the time you knew it was time for you to go.

Once you had felt relieved knowing that promoting your duet would be only one performance but recently, you started dreading the moment because that meant that you wouldn't have any more excuse to see Seojun. In the backstage, this time around you greeted Jugyeong like an old friend and teased to give Seojun a funny makeup before walking up to your  own assigned staff members. Your look was full of sparkles and glow fitting the silver colour of your dress, completing the ethereal vibe off the stage you were going to do and the beautiful song you had grown to love so much you held it close to your heart. The last rehearsals went smoothly and if you noticed Seojun's gaze lingering a bit too long, you didn't comment on it.

"Are you nervous?" he asked before the final recording and you knew it would have been unreasonable to deny it, so you replied with a small smile.

"A bit."

"Don't be. You're pretty and you'll do amazing," he reassured you and the way he said those words oh so easy. As if they were natural. As if he believed in you and maybe this was all the reassurance you needed because when you walked up onto the stage, not taking your eyes off his, it felt like it was just the two of you there. All the stress about not being good enough, about being judged for who you were and what you wanted to do with your life was subsided as you focused on the moment, just to sing this one song with one while trying to fight your heart's crazy beating.

You didn't really have the luxury to have crushes. You had always been concentrated on your work, you couldn't let yourself have distractions, especially since love scandals always affected girl worse than guy. At least that was what you told yourself for always putting up a wall around you and guarding your heart all too well. But during the past few weeks, between playful or flirty remarks, between smiles and ruffling hair, Seojun took apart your wall brick by brick even if he wasn't aware.

So it might have been only a few days since you had last seen him but in that rare moment of boredom, alone in your room, you realized that you missed him. Hell, you liked him and the feeling made me want to scream into your pillow as if you were a silly teenager. As if on cue, your phone buzzed with a new message and seeing the KakaoTalk ID made you shy.

duet partner, han seo jun

so...

i've been thinking

you

sounds dangerous but ok

duet partner, han seo jun

don't get sassy with me, miss

you

what have you been thinking about?

duet partner, han seo jun

that i don't want to miss my chance

there's this girl i like

i thought of asking her out

do you think she would say yes?

you

oh. well... why wouldn't she?

i mean, you are talented, handsome, funny and reliable

duet partner, han seo jun

and what about my job? it's busy and a bit crazy

don't you think it would be unfair of me to ask?

you

I think you should let her decide that

duet partner, han seo jun

okay

are you free on friday?

you

um, sure?

duet partner, han seo jun

cool, then go on a date with me?

[dirt-cup-draco]

Bucky x Reader- Yours

a...ging stops at 18 until you find your soulmate so the two of you can grow old together.  d...amage done to a person also translates into their soulmate’s body (cuts, bruises and all) 

Thank you @starofthedawn! love our bucky boi :’)

Time had become something that simply passed you by. The decades skipped and hopped, one to another and you remained stuck in the body of a young woman that had aged far beyond her looks. The soulmates that aged, the ones that found one another, they watched you with pitying eyes as they saw the heavy weight behind your eyes. It was clear the excitement of waiting on someone meant just for you had taken it’s toll and you weren’t sure if you’d ever find that special someone to grow old with. 

It wasn’t just the time that had chipped at the hope you’d held onto in the 1940s when every one of your peers waited for their soulmate and your parents were hoping you’d find yours before even a week passed. Everyone was eager and you had been too. You had wanted to know everything about whoever was out there. At first you hadn’t wanted to, thinking them a troublemaker, but you were certain they were just clumsy. It’s why you always ended up with a nasty shiner that you had to try and ice down or a split lip your mother helped you nurse. 

When the war started gathering up every capable young man across the country you were certain that you’d lose your soulmate, whether by distance or warfare. It was something you feared once- never finding your soulmate. So you had done the only sane, or not so sane thing, you’d offered yourself up to help the soldiers as their nurse. Every night you went to bed relieved that your soulmate had escaped another day seemingly unharmed, besides the deep set ache in your bones but you had soon forgotten if it was his or yours. 

The war had ended and things from there grew more bleak. Surely you’d know if he had been one of the casualties, wouldn’t you? But doubt crept into your mind. You remember laying on your cot one evening when you found a moment to rest, mind gone foggy from the days constant movement and too little time to yourself. You felt like bricks laid out against the stiff cotton and it was a struggle to even twitch your finger. 

Suddenly, the air was knocked from your lungs so forcefully youd choked out a cough just to remind yourself how to start breathing again. Your head began to ache terribly and your arm held a terrible weight to it. You tried to brush it off, you were just tired or maybe your other half was just feeling a bit lethargic that day- nothing serious. You had let your eyes fall shut but your rest was interupted with a vicious burning that made you scream aloud, eyes burning with tears as you clawed at the junction of your shoulder and arm. 

You shuddered, pulling your cardigan tighter around you as you remembered the night you’d felt unimaginable pain. You hadn’t really felt the same since. Disconnected, odd. Maybe it was a sign that he was gone, that you’d be stuck mourning and living out one existence after the other. You’d tried asking, the few willing to share, what it felt like to lose your soulmate whether it be before or after they’d met but no one could truly put the agony into words. 

Every so often you felt dull aches, a sore jaw from clenching too long, a sharp pain at the back of your skull... But it never lasted and as the world rocketed itself into a new age you believed that you were crazy and that these aches were just a phantom to remind you of a love you’d never get to experience. 

“Don’t look so glum,” Your boss Helen laughed, elbowing your side playfully and pulling you from your thoughts as you trudged through the back door. You tore your hat from your head, blowing a lose strand of hair from your eyes as you gave her a grim smile. 

“How could I look anything other than delighted when I know I’ll be in my lovely place of work for ten hours making grumpy people their caffeine fix for the day?” You teased back, a small grin working its way onto your face. Despite the decades spent wondering where half of your heart was, you had still found people and things to love. 

One of those people was Helen and one of those things was her lovely cafe. She’d employed you nearly three years ago and while you hadn’t aged a single day you were beginning to see the slight shift in her. A gray hair or two could be found in her amber locks, wrinkles at her mouth, eyes and forehead making her look...weathered in a way. Like a well loved book. She had stories full of excitement and happiness and more importantly, a soulmate. 

“You’re a brat but you’re my brat, now get out there and work your magic,” Helen commanded and you had to tear your eyes away from her. She was gorgeous, she was happy, she was loved, she was whole. 

The day went like clockwork, you clocked in at 6 and greeted the morning dump of sour sleepy people. The rush got you far enough along that by the time you were done cleaning your station your coworker James had punched in and you were set free to go on a fifteen minute break. It went too quickly and then you were half goofing off and half doing dishes until you took a lunch, your feet aching in your shoes but your mind gone pleasantly numb. 

Work kept you from the sink hole that had appeared in your chest. 

You hummed a tune, one always stuck at the back of your mind that played when you let yourself sink into the comfortable rhythm of cleaning the plates returned to you by customers who needed a nutritious or indulgent pick me up with their daily espresso or latte. The clouds had blanketed the sky and there was a familiar chill in the cafe that made the warm sink water lull you even further into your peace of mind. 

Now seven hours into your shift you were feeling eager to get home and kick up your feet but anxious to experience the dread that eventually seeped in. Your company had been enough for decades, or you had learned to let yourself be enough, but it didn’t end the longing of wanting someone there who knew you better than you knew yourself. 

��Y/N!” Came Jame’s clear as a bell voice, the echo of his tenor bumping against the glass wall you’d built in your mind to keep everything out. 

“Whatdya want?” You hollered to the front of the shop, drying off a mug as you took a few steps through the archway. James was at the back of the shop, cleaning up a spill and there was a customer hovering near the front counter. Their head was bent low and their shoulders hunched up to their shoulders. They wore a hoodie over their head and their hair cloaked their face, you couldn’t help but let your gaze linger but realized the man at the front must be why James had called for your help.

 “Oh!” You exclaimed, setting the cleaned mug on the edge of the counter as you approached the register. “S-sorry, what can I get for you?” You stumbled over your words and had to shake your head. It seemed you’d gotten a little too lost in your thoughts as you had trouble coming back to the present. 

“Anything with caramel,” Came a voice that warmed you from the inside out. Your eyes snapped out and you found you were trapped by icy eyes that held nothing but a gentle shyness in them. The stranger was strong, his appearance almost intimidating, but behind the curtain of thick hair was an almost boyish face. But yet it was his eyes that you kept going back to as you tried to remember where you even were.

They were the loveliest eyes you’d ever seen, but they were the saddest you’d ever encountered. You didn’t think you’d ever see such a lost look on anyone other than your own reflection in the mirror. Your heart stuttered uncomfortably in your chest and you fumbled to take the man’s order on the register. You gave up completely and spun around on your heel once you realized you’d been staring too long. 

In your sudden movement though you had caught the edge of the already forgotten mug and it toppled to the ground. 

“Fuck!” you cursed, immediately dropping to the ground to pick up the shards. You felt too warm, your head foggy and body floating yet heavy. Your chest was tight and you couldn’t put a name on the feeling. Maybe you were having a heart attack. You’d gone too long without a soulmate and time had finally caught up to your ageless body. 

You were once again trapped in your mind as you fumbled with the sharp pieces, inhaling sharply as you cut yourself. 

“Double fuck!” You whined, squeezing your finger tight, trying to stop the flow of blood as you dropped the pieces back to the floor. 

“Jesus, Y/N, you feelin’ alright?” James asked, coming to your side. You simply nodded and popped your finger into your mouth. 

“H-he wants caramel,” you said airily, nodding back to the stranger but when you looked back at him his eyes had gone wide, hood pulled back from the top of his head. You were nearly about to ask if he’d seen a ghost but then you saw the liquid ruby gathering at the tip of his own finger. The same one you had cut. 

Your breath had been stolen from your lungs and your legs went out from under you as you sank against the counter behind you. 

“Y/N?” Helen asked, the commotion grabbing her attention all the way from her office. “Sweetheart what’s wrong have you eaten? Can I get you-”

“I- um just thinks she’s a little in shock,” Came that lovely voice once more and you felt a bit more grounded. He was much closer now, having come around the counter, brushing his cut finger against his jeans. It was only now you noticed one of his hands caught the light and revealed a prosthetic. 

Your shoulder suddenly ached with memories and your eyes welled up. “Where have you been?” You croaked, hands shaking and knees still weak. 

He sank down to kneel in front of you, ignoring both Helen and James’ protests to be mindful of the shattered mug. His calloused hands were large and gentle as they gathered yours up. His own eyes grew misty as he took you in. 

“I know I’m late, it’s a long story so why don’t I just start with a hello?” He asked, helping you to your feet. 

You laughed a bubbly and nearly hysterical laugh that made you feel lightheaded all over again but he just held on tighter to you and you never wanted to be let go again. “Maybe you could start with your name too,” You teased and you felt nearly as breathless as you’d been the night you’d only known pain. 

You supposed that was going to be a part of his long story and your heart ached already at the thought of him experiencing any of what you’d only felt a fraction of. 

“I’m Bucky, and what can I call a beautiful gal like you?” Bucky grinned, his flesh hand releasing your arm so he could brush his fingertips against your cheek in wonderment. 

“Yours, I’m all yours,” You choked out, a watery grin painted onto your face.

Time had become something that simply passed you by, but now you were ready to begin the rest of your life. 

[ve1vetyoongi]

Operation: Love Letters | 06

💌 CHAPTER INDEX 💌

♡ ⇢ pairing: ot7 x reader.

♡ ⇢ chapter word count: 4k

♡ ⇢ genre: mystery, college!au, romance, fluff, eventual smut.

♡ ⇢ warnings/rating: none, PG.

♡ ⇢ summary: When every student on campus is going crazy about a survey that claims to make true love bloom, your best friend manages to convince you to join in on the fun — except you’re disappointed to find out that your results just seem to be lost causes. That is until a love letter from a mysterious secret admirer turns up and you find yourself on a mission to find the person behind the pen — but you quickly realise it’s going to be a lot harder than you initially thought when you have 7 possible bachelors to investigate, right? Operation: Love Letters a-go!

♡ ⇢ schedule: updated every day at 5pm GMT in the run up to Valentine’s Day 2020!

💌 A/N: so here it is! the finale of OLL :,( i’m immensely sad to see it come to an end but also so so proud of it! just wanna say a huge thank you to everyone who screamed with me in my inbox/replies over the mystery and everyone who theorized and discussed the clues, it made me SO FREAKING HAPPY you’ll never understand <3 i love you and i hope you guys have an amazing valentines day!! let this be my gift to you! p.s i hope the reveal is satisfying...lemme know! 

"Yoongi?" You splutter, mouth dry when you turn and find him leaning against the door frame with a confused expression. "What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you guys the same thing." He gestures between yourself and Jimin. "I saw you guys come in here earlier and wanted to see what was up. Now answer my question." He points to the laptop. "What is my name doing on the screen?"

"Is it true?"

"What? That my name is Min Yoongi, yeah—"

"Don't be an asshole right now, Yoongi." He jolts when you slam a hand down against the desk, swallowing hard to force the sour words to leave your lips. "Is it true that you knew we got matched in the Love Calculator?"

He sucks in a sharp breath and it's like the whole room has been drained of oxygen. "How did you find out?"

His admission makes your stomach drop and you're suddenly overcome with a sorrowful concoction of humiliation and heartbreak. "Because it was you who sent me all those letters, right? It was you all along."

"Y/N let me explain—"

"How could you?" Your voice wavers and you have to bite back the tears welling in your eyes. "Was it just some big joke to you? A prank?"

"That's not how it is." Yoongi rushes forward to reach for you, but his hands fall to his side helplessly when you step back. "It was never like that."

"What? So I'm supposed to believe that you meant what you said in these stupid letters? You're always so cold around me Yoongi, you treat me like shit at the best of times. Why should I believe you?"

"I'm sorry." Yoongi's own lip trembles now, and his eyes are wide. "I...I don't know what else to say."

"Sorry because I'm so undateable you had to lead me on so you could laugh at me while I searched for my fucking non-existent secret admirer this whole time?" He looks pained when you stare at him with cold eyes. "Not cool, Yoongi."

"Y/N wait! Let's talk about this at least—"

"Don't bother." Hot tears spill down your cheeks but you're already rushing out into the hall before anyone can see them. "We're never talking ever again."

"Tell me why I should listen to what you have to say?" Jimin says as he slides into a seat opposite Yoongi at the local coffee shop, turning his nose up at the matcha-soy-latte-no-ice he had already ordered for him. "My best friend is locked in my apartment eating ice cream and crying to re-runs of Friends after you just dropped the bomb of the century on her and you've dragged me out here to get coffee why?"

"Please." Yoongi sighs, jerking forward in his seat and spilling coffee on the table in his attempt to stop Jimin from getting up and leaving as quick as he arrived. "Just hear me out!"

"Fine." Jimin leans back into his seat with narrowed eyes, crossing his legs and gesturing for Yoongi to talk as he eyes up the latte after all. "I'm listening."

"The letters weren't a joke." Yoongi says simply. "I meant what I said."

Jimin chokes mid sip. "Come again?"

"I said, the love letters were real. I really have feelings for Y/N." He rakes a hand through his hair, cheeks burning when he sees Jimin's disbelieving eyes.

"Well damn," Jimin shakes his head woefully, finally understanding Yoongi's true predicament. "You royally fucked up, huh?"

"I know." Yoongi's shoulders drop and his head falls into his hands pitifully. "I didn't mean for things to turn out like this, Jimin. She was never meant to find out this way. Or at all, actually."

Jimin let's out a sigh, protective best friend guard softening as he leans in closer. "Why didn't you just tell her they were from you in the first place?"

Yoongi shakes his head, bottom lip tugged between his teeth, self loathing evident in his voice. "I don't know. It was dumb and I see that now and she'll probably never want to speak to me again so that's it I guess."

"Hey." Jimin extends a hand to pat Yoongi's arm reassuringly. "There's still time to make things right. You both did things you didn't mean. You just have to clear up the misunderstanding."

Yoongi looks up hopefully. "You really think she'll hear me out?"

"Absolutely." Jimin smiles. "Besides, I've always thought you two would be a good match. A girl needs a man who can tolerate her best friend, too."

"Who says I tolerate you?" Yoongi grumbles, crossing his arms over his chest and averting his eyes.

"Me, because I'm about to save your ass." He grabs his phone from his back pocket and dials up your number, lifting the device to his ear as he points to the exit. "Now go! You have a relationship to save!"

"Yoongi?"

There's no answer from your roommate when you throw off your shoes and rush up the stairs of your apartment without even bothering to shut the door behind you, out of breath and desperate to confront him before you go crazy with the concoction of shock and realisation buzzing through your veins, as the puzzle pieces of Operation Love Letters finally fit together and you let the truth sink in.

Min Yoongi is your secret admirer. And deep down, you think a part of you knew it all along.

Jimin had called you from the car after his talk with Yoongi to fill you in, practically yelling at you to go make things right immediately, so that's how you find yourself searching your apartment high and low for Min Yoongi.

You've lived together for so long that you're used to hearing the sound of him throwing beats around on his computer in the lounge or cooking up a storm in the kitchen when you get home, but the couch is absent of his usual pyjama clad presence and the abnormal silence that shrouds your shared apartment makes your chest tighten with nerves.

Maybe he was just asleep? Nothing would surprise you. The guy needed at least 13 hours to function, so you check his room first.

"Are you in here?" You knock his door three times, but end up barging inside of your own accord when you hear no groan of protest from the other side. Much to your disappointment, Yoongi's bedspread is neatly made, with no human-shaped lump starfished in the centre like usual. His laptop is switched off on his desk, music equipment abandoned beside it and defeat feels like a blow to the stomach when you finally accept that Yoongi is no where to be found.

You perch on the end of his bed and let your eyes drift around the room, from the pile of laundry in the corner to the Polaroid pictures of the two of you pinned to his wall. Could Yoongi really have been your secret admirer this whole time?

Now that you think about it, Yoongi has always been there. Whether it was comforting you after Hoseok blew you off, taking care of you at Seokjin's party or saving you from Taehyung's clumsy ass at the kissing booth, Yoongi was always the one person who stuck by your side no matter what.

You think of all the times Yoongi was there to hold your hair back when you drank yourself sick or how he picked up Chinese food on his way home when he heard you had a bad day or how he never complained when he had to take cold showers because you used up all the hot water.

Yoongi always loved you, in his own way; through quiet late night words of reassurance and small actions of kindness that you ignorantly put down to obligation, rather than a spark that ran deeper for Yoongi than you ever realised before. Whenever you needed him he was there, despite the half assed protests and the grumpy facade he pretends to uphold.

Even while you were too busy pursuing a stupid fairytale to see that the person who cared for you most was right in front of you, Yoongi loved you. And It didn't matter how many clues you followed. You were just too blind to see the truth all along.

Guilt suddenly wracks your conscience. The Yoongi who wrote those letters was so gentle, so sincere in his confession. You can't imagine how much it must have hurt him to watch you write him off so easily, see you run around searching for the author when he was in plain sight the whole time.

God, how could you have been so dumb?

You get up from the bed, ready to head out, but something catches your eye on his nightstand. It's another enveloped letter and you're unsurprised to see your name on the front in Yoongi's stupid pink pen when you take a deep breath and break the seal with your thumb.

A tear slides down your cheek as you re-read the same three words Yoongi wrote in his messy scrawl over and over again. I love you.

Could it be true? That all this time you've been blind to what was right in front of you?

You know where to find me...

You wipe your cheeks with the back of your hand and wrack your brains for an answer. What could he mean by that? Where was he waiting for you?

Squeezing your eyes shut in thought, you flop onto the bed, only to hear a quiet crunch where your butt collides with the mattress. A memory flashes across your mind and with shaky hands you retrieve the screwed up sticky note from your back pocket that your secret admirer — Yoongi — pressed into your hand at the kissing booth.

You check your watch. 11:55. If you left now, you could just make it in time to stop Yoongi from giving up on you. To open your eyes and see the real him for the first time.

But not before you flip the page and rip the cap off a pen with your teeth, letting your heart pour out through your fingertips in a string of words that were ready to be written now you finally knew who your heart had been addressed to all along.

Without a second thought, you grab your keys and head towards the roof with a belly full of butterflies to see the one person you should have suspected all along.

Min Yoongi.

12:17

"Shit, shit, shit!" You breathe as you grip the stitch in your side and bound up another flight of stairs towards the rooftop garden.

As if in slow motion, you crash through the door and squint through the orange glow of the setting sun for the familiar face you hadn't realised just how much you cherished until you were faced with losing it forever.

Your hands grip the metal balcony rail, glancing around at the hanging baskets of fragrant wild flowers that sway in the afternoon breeze and the sun's golden reflection in the water fountains where tiny birds splash their wings. The garden is like a fairytale, an almost enchanted escape from the bustling city below.

But there's no sign of your prince. No sign of Yoongi to be found. Are you too late?

You're about to give up when a wind chime rings out nearby, and you follow its song beneath an arch obscured by leafy rose plants and sweet smelling jasmine to a hidden wooden swing that rocks gently back and forth to a stand still, occupied only moments ago by the boy who rakes a hand through his blonde hair with a sigh and heads towards the steps with a pained expression of defeat.

Yoongi. Your Yoongi.

"I came!" You call out breathlessly, hair whipping around your face in the wind. "Please don't go. I'm here."

Yoongi freezes when he hears your voice, head slowly turning until his eyes land on where you stand watching him. There's a bouquet of vibrant sunflowers in his hands, his knuckles white he clutches them so hard, a sigh of simultaneous relief and elation leaving him when he realises he isn't seeing things. You're really here. All for him this time.

"I waited for ages." He swallows hard, voice a tender whisper. "I thought you weren't coming."

Hesitantly, you take a few steps towards him. He seems so fragile now as he looks at you with wide eyes, no trace of the tough guy you were used in their stare. "I'm late because I'm an asshole. And I don't just mean late to meet you here, I mean late to seeing that...it was you all along. You were my secret admirer."

"Don't be an idiot." Yoongi laughs pitifully and shakes his head, scuffing his shoe against the tarmac. "I'm the asshole. It's just like you said. I couldn't confess to you in person so I hid behind letters like a coward."

You reach out to gently take his face in your hands, a small smile tugging at your lips. "It's okay, Yoongi. We both messed up, but we're here now. We're both here. And that's all that matters."

Yoongi's eyes light up with a mixture of relief and elation, glinting in the soft amber light. "Really?"

"Really." You nod, and Yoongi pulls you tight to his chest, your cheek right above where his heart beats uncontrollably just like yours, chin pressed to the top of your head like he never wants to let you go. His embrace feels comforting, like home, and in that moment you realise just how right it feels.

"There were just all these things I wanted to say and I...I couldn't." He whispers into your hair. "I'm so sorry I couldn't."

"Like what?" Your arms curl around his waist and you feel him smile. "Tell me now."

Yoongi pulls back to search your eyes for any sign of hesitation, then wets his lips before words spill out of him on the wave of a harmonious laugh of relief, like he can't hold them inside any longer.

"I wanted to tell you how much I love it when you steal my hoodies from the laundry basket. And when I come downstairs to find you dancing around the kitchen and microwaving spaghetti at 3am. Or when you make me soup when I'm sick or how you drag me along to all your dumb operation thingy-ma-bobby missions — what was it, again?"

"Love letters," You giggle, dizzy on the emotion swelling in your chest at his sincerity. "Operation love letters."

"Know what? It doesn't matter because I even love when you correct me about every damn thing." He rolls his eyes but you can tell there's no malice behind it as he shares your elated laughter now, smile growing bigger and bigger as he finally releases the feelings he's been bottling up for so long. "I love how you cry when you laugh and how you always forget to water the house plants and how your hair sticks up in the morning and how you never ever give up on anything. How you never gave up on me." Yoongi pauses, reaches for your hand and links your fingers together. He uses his knuckle to wipe away the stray tear that has slid down your cheek. "But most of all? I love you, Y/N. And I know it's taken me a long time to say it but...I mean it. I love you."

There's a moment of brief silence, just Yoongi taking heaving breaths and your heart thumping in your ears as you let his words sink in.

Yoongi is your secret admirer. Yoongi your annoyingly-smart-effortlessly-handsome-grumpy-but-thoughtful roommate. Yoongi loves you.

"I...I don't know what to say." You manage to stammer. "I had no idea. This whole time it was really you?"

The hopeful look on Yoongi's face disappears in a flash, his posture wilting. He takes a step back, head bowed, cheeks burning even as he tries to keep his cool. "Are you disappointed?"

"What? No—"

"You don't have to say anything I...I don't expect you to feel the same way, I know I'm not like those other guys it's just — God," Yoongi's voice cracks and he looks down, hands wringing around the bouquet. "I know you'll never love me back but...if you knew how hard it's been not being able to say I love you out loud like that until now..."

He staggers back, flustered and nervous. You take a step forward and grab his hand before he can get away. You feel how the callouses on his hand fit perfectly with your own when you squeeze it lightly, reaching up to brush the hair out of his eyes with a smile. "Then tell me. I want to hear about it all."

"Really?" His own eyes get glassy when you nod harder than you ever have in your life and although he tugs his bottom lip between his teeth to stop the tears spilling over, you can still see the traces of a smile in his eyes. "Where do you want me to start?"

You throw your arms around his neck, smushing your chin into the place between his shoulder with a contented sigh. You can't help it. You're overwhelmed with a funny fuzzy feeling and all you want to do is hold him close. It just feels right.

Yoongi must feel the same because his arms curl around your waist like they've done it a hundred times before, lifting your feet off the ground to spin you around elatedly.

"From the beginning," You whisper, dizzy with a promising bliss. "Tell me everything."

"So," Yoongi starts. You're both curled up on the swing beneath his jacket, him at one end and you at the other, alternating between gazing out over the view of the city which is bathed in the rose tinted glow of sunset and the permanent flush atop of Yoongi's cheeks that burns just as bright. "You're not mad at me any more for not telling you?"

You avert your gaze, embarrassed at your earlier leap to conclusions. "No. And I never should have doubted you, when you said that you meant what you said in the letters. I see that now." Yoongi's hand is still tenderly linked with yours and he runs his thumb over your knuckles reassuringly, telling you to go on. "I just couldn't understand why me. I still don't. You usually act so grouchy around me that I thought the letters were too good to be true."

Yoongi looks away wistfully before he sits up seriously, tugging your hands into his lap. He swallows hard, like he's had this speech prepared for a long time. "Listen, I know that I've been kind of weird around you in the past. But the truth is, I've liked you ever since I found out we were going to be roommates." There's a sincerity in his eyes that makes your heart skip a beat, and you nod breathlessly at his confession, filled with emotion all over again at hearing the words leave his lips instead of reading them on paper. "But the feelings were so strong — stronger than I've ever felt for anyone — and I guess I just got...scared. So I thought it would be easier if I acted cold around you so you'd leave like everyone else, but you never did. And I couldn't make myself ask you to go, so I just bottled up my feelings instead."

You tilt your head, gently nudging him. "Until?"

"Until I did that stupid Love Calculator thing. Honestly I only filled out the survey because I thought it might help me get over you." He shrugs. "But then I got your name. 100% compatible. And it just felt like some big joke from the universe telling me that no matter how hard I tried, I'd never have a chance with you and all the feelings I repressed came rushing back and I kinda spiraled I guess."

"So why didn't you just tell me?"

"Taehyung convinced me it was better to write you a letter. Ya know, to get out all my feelings so I could let them go for good. I was never going to send it to you." He suddenly exclaims. "But Taehyung must have found it in one of his notebooks and I guess he thought he was being a good friend by sending it to you...but then you started looking for the secret admirer behind it and I just panicked! I didn't know how to tell you it was from me, or how you'd react, so it was easier to just go along with your plan."

You run your fingers over a flower petal from the pretty bouquet that sits in your lap. "What made you change your mind?" You ask. "You could have gotten away with it. I never would have suspected it was from you."

Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. "That day at the kissing booth. I guess someone told Seokjin the truth and he rigged the raffle so I would win the grand prize and...I couldn't resist. I kissed you. And kissing someone has never felt like that before. Not like you. And I just knew...I knew I wasn't over you. And I owed it to myself to tell you. So that's why I slipped you the note to meet me here. That's why I decided to reveal my identity."

"Speaking of secret admirers," You fumble around in your jacket pocket, pulling out a crumpled piece of paper that you jerk towards him. "There's one thing I need to ask you, actually."

"What is it?" There's a curious glint in his eyes as he unfolds the note and reads the message inside while you hug your torso and anxiously swing your feet back and forth.

You feel his eyes on you again before he says anything else. There's a small smile on his face when he finishes reading and you can't help the way your own lips curve upwards. "I know it's a few years late, but better late than never right?"

Yoongi lets out a deep chuckle, eyes soft and crinkled at the edges like he's looking at the whole world when they take in the light blush caressing your cheeks. "I think you know what my answer is."

You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him in cheekily so that the tips of your noses brush lightly. "I want to hear you say it anyway."

"Of course I'll be your Valentine Y/N." The brightest smile you've ever seen appears on his face and he links your fingers together before connecting your lips in a tender kiss that makes your heart soar. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

[e-milieeee]

i love you a latte—adrienette

Summary: Running on 5 cups of coffee and the extra boost her transformation gives her, Marinette’s determined to finish her project before the sun rises.

(Adrien’s just here to distract her, and honestly, it’s working.)

Notes: honestly i labelled it adrienette but it has a mix of ladynoir, ladrien and adrienette but its post reveal so it doesn’t actually matter LOLOLOL 

Or read on AO3! 

Marinette was stressed.

Her desk was a testament of that: it was littered with papers, candy wrappers, string, fabric and the coffee stain from two hours ago that she hadn’t bothered wiping up. The flat wasn’t any better. Like a risky game of jenga, the sink was piled high with dirty dishes. Takeout boxes were stacked just as precariously in the trash. Her closet, a complete and utter nightmare, fared no better. Marinette had a headache just looking at the mess, and thinking about having to clean it made her nauseous. So she just didn’t clean it.

As Adrien often told her, she was awful at dealing with stress.

It didn’t help that the project was due in three days. Marinette had been slaving through it for weeks on end, but the last design was particularly difficult. There was always something that didn’t seem right, but she could never pinpoint it. Now, as the end product was slowly but surely beginning to assemble, and Marinette didn’t have time for distractions. And tidying and doing dishes and sleeping were all distractions.

The clock read two thirty in the morning. If she worked hard enough, she could be finished by dawn. Then, she could sleep all through the morning, wake up in the afternoon, and start the revisions. It was a relatively foolproof plan if she didn’t count the fact that she might not be able to make it until morning.

The fifth cup of coffee just wasn’t doing it. Marinette needed something stronger.

For a moment, she sat still in her chair, contemplating her options. Then a burst of sleep deprived brilliance struck Marinette.

“Tikki,” she called.

Her kwami had dozed off on Marinette’s desk rather early in the night, but she startled awake quickly with a, “Yes?”

“I’m going to transform,” Marinette decided. “It’ll fight off the sleep better.”

“Don’t you think sleeping would be a better option? Then you can work on it in the morning!”

“Sleeping is not an option.” Especially not when she was in the final run, and all she needed to do was finish…

Tikki gave her a look that Marinette was well accustomed to: bad idea, but your choice. Given that there was no verbal or physical resistance, she took it as an agreement, no matter how reluctant. Tikki had witnessed firsthand how wonderfully terrible Marinette was with deadlines and always did her best to accommodate.

“Tikki, spots on!”

A flash of pink later, Marinette was suited and ready to work again. She downed the coffee for good measure, fought back a yawn, and positioned herself in front of the sewing machine.

“I’m Ladybug,” she said aloud, turning to her sewing machine. “I’m Ladybug, and I’m going to finish this—”

A tapping sound interrupted her. Ladybug whirled around. Even her muddled brain could comprehend that if somebody were to see Ladybug sitting in Marinette’s apartment, the dots wouldn’t be so hard to connect.

To her relief, it was a familiar pair of green eyes that blinked at her through the window. Chat Noir was crouching on the ledge, mouthing something that Ladybug couldn’t hear. She scrambled from her chair, nearly knocking her cup down in the process, and slid open the window.

A gust of cool, night breeze swept inside. For a moment, she wondered if leaving the window would help her stay more awake… then a particularly strong gust sent the papers on her desk flying out of order, and she slammed it shut behind Chat.

“What are you doing here?” Ladybug asked when a semblance of order had been restored.

“Couldn’t sleep,” he replied simply. “What about you?”

She winced. “Final project.”

He eyed the room contemplatively, and it hit Ladybug just how messy everything was. She let out a mortified squeak of shock, but the dirty dishes and takeout boxes and unfolded laundry weren’t going anywhere. “Out!” she shrieked. “Oh my God, out!”  

“Plagg, claws in!”

Before Ladybug could shove him back through the window out of embarrassment, it was no longer Chat but Adrien that stood there, hands raised in a placating gesture. She froze. She couldn’t send him tumbling down thirteen stories like she could with Chat Noir.

He was donning the Ladybug pajamas he was so unabashedly proud of, hair loose and messy—his Chat hair. He definitely looked like he had rolled right out of bed.

Slowly, Ladybug backed down with a groan. “Don’t you dare comment about the state of the apartment. I know it’s bad.”

“Wasn’t going to, m’lady.”

“As long as you have food in your fridge,” a grumpy voice interrupted, “I don’t mind how messy it is either.”

Ladybug raised an eyebrow at Plagg as he zipped out from Adrien’s hair. “This idiot here couldn’t sleep, so he dragged me up, and for what? Oh, Plagg, I just want some fresh air! Plagg, please? I’ll buy you extra camembert. Plagg, you know how my insomnia acts up sometimes.” Plagg retched. “Fresh air my ass. I wouldn’t have agreed if I knew he was just going to be sticking his tongue down your throat.”

Adrien’s face went pink. “Plagg!”

“Shut up and feed me.”

“Glutton,” Adrien shot back, sticking his tongue out petulantly at his kwami. “Marinette, do you have food? And why are you transformed?”

“Uh,” she managed. She tried to think what was left in her fridge, but her brain wasn’t functioning enough for it. “I think I can focus better as Ladybug? Anyway, there’s cookies in the cabinets for Tikki. Plagg can either eat that or the raw meat in the freezer.”

Plagg, bemoaning how he hated Adrien, floated off to the cabinets in search of sweets.

Meanwhile, Adrien rounded her desk to lean on the other (slightly cleaner) side. “How many cups of coffee?”

Ladybug returned to the sewing machine. “Five. I think it stopped working.”

“I think it’s because you’ve drank so much coffee these past couple years that you’ve slowly built up immunity to the caffeine. Did you sleep last night?”

“Yes.” She paused, counting the time. “Two and a half hours.”  

Adrien looked horrified. “Marinette!” he exclaimed. “You still have three days to finish. You need to take a break.”

He was right, but while she did need the break, the project also needed to be finished. Sure, there were three more days, but Ladybug needed to have the wiggle room for revisions and checking and double-checking for perfection.

“If I finish tonight, I have time to relax and revise without stressing about it,” she explained, although Adrien looked less convinced after each word. “I’m already behind schedule, since I’ve been working on the last dress forever and this is the fourth try.”

“That doesn’t change the fact that you look like you’re about to pass out.” He gave her desk another scan as if to prove the point. “Seriously, Marinette, you’ll produce better work if you’re well rested and not running on caffeine.”

Once again, Adrien was right. She could barely go ten minutes without scrubbing her face with water or rubbing her eyes and yawning. Then a wave of panic rushed over her. The dress she had been working on had been made when she was not well rested, which meant it wasn’t under the category of better work, which meant she should redo it all from scratch so she could submit her best quality work—

“Marinette,” Adrien interrupted like he knew exactly what she was going to say. “I know what you’re thinking. Don’t do anything you’ll regret. Just sleep.”  

“But—”

Before she could formulate the rest of the protest, Adrien had scooped her out of the chair. Ladybug was too tired to put up a struggle. “Have you eaten any fruits or vegetables in the past couple of days?” he demanded as he carried her towards the bedroom. “Wait, have you even been eating three meals? Have you been eating two meals?”

Ladybug scrunched her nose. “What are you, my mom?”

“Your mom would ask you the same,” he shot back immediately. “Seriously, Mari, you need to take care of yourself more.”

Too tired to argue with him, she shut her eyes and curled up against his chest. Sleep was a dangerous thing; once she gave into it, there was no way out. “S’okay,” she mumbled. “You’ll take care of me.”

“Then you better let me do my job.”

She giggled. “You are like my mom.”

“And as your mother, I’m putting you to bed.”

Bed. The word sounded comforting and lovely and warm ( Adrien was all that as well). The last thing she felt was Adrien setting her gently down on the mattress, pulling the duvet over her, and then the rest was oblivion.

***

Marinette woke up to the smell of breakfast wafting into her room. Which was a rare commodity because breakfast was her favourite meal to skip.

The bed was comfortable and warm, blankets tucked all around her. Given her penchant for kicking her covers off in the middle of the night, that meant she had been recently tucked in, and—

Adrien. Everything came flooding back. Adrien was here in her apartment—her unpresentable, messy apartment—and he had somehow coaxed her to sleep last night when she could’ve spent the time finishing up her project. He had also managed to get her to detransform, because she was once again wearing the same clothes she had been wearing for at least two days.  

Marinette shot out of bed, now properly horrified. She scrambled. She flailed. She stubbed her toe on the drawer and fled into the living room, where the delightful smell of breakfast was the strongest.

Adrien was standing at the stove, wearing her pink apron, still in his Ladybug pajamas. That wasn’t the most surprising part, though: every mess in the kitchen and living room had been straightened, cleaned, or disposed of.

Marinette gaped.

Having noticed her presence, he turned around and waved, spatula still in hand. Sunlight slanted through the windows and onto the couch—the couch that just last night was so full of clothing and papers that no one could sit on—which was now clear. Only cushions sat in their rightful place. It looked like he had performed a full-on exorcism on the mess.

“Adrien,” Marinette managed aloud, “what happened here?”

He flipped an egg. “I tidied up a little when I woke up this morning,” he replied. “And, uh, restocked a bit of your groceries. You were running low.” He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “In full honesty, I only got up because Plagg was yelling at me about having no proper sustenance, so I decided to clean to pass the time.”

The little black kwami floated out as if summoned. “Just because Tikki likes cookies,” he sniffed, “doesn’t mean I do.” As if to prove his point, he waved a whole wheel of camembert. Marinette stuck out her tongue at Plagg before turning back to Adrien.

“You had time to clean and get groceries?” she asked. “There was… a lot of stuff around here. Like, a lot. It would’ve taken me at least hours to tidy.”

Adrien transferred the eggs from the pan to the two plates. He gestured at the counter, where the digital clock sat. “It’s eleven, so I had three hours to do all of that.”

Eleven. The realization dropped like a bomb and Marinette nearly screamed. “Eleven?” she yelped, whirling on Adrien. “Why did you let me sleep for so long? Why didn’t you wake me up? I wasn’t even supposed to sleep last night and I’m not finished and this means—”

“Marinette, relax!”

She slowed to a halt. “You still have time,” Adrien continued soothingly, in the specific tone he used every time he needed to calm her down. “I let you sleep in because you need to be well-rested to put out your best work, and you need to eat a healthy, balanced meal in order to focus later. You can work all day afterwards. But right now, we’re going to have brunch together, and you’re not going to think of your project until we finish.”

Marinette didn’t want to wait. The fact that she was so close yet not quite made her uncomfortably jittery and the only remedy would be to work work work so she could just get it done with, but that wasn’t rational or reasonable. Besides, the meal Adrien had cooked smelled delicious and it would be rude to not eat it with him…

Relax, she told herself. I’ll finish in time. It’ll be okay.

Marinette breathed in a full body inhale, then let it out slowly. “Okay,” she said. “Okay, let’s eat.”

Adrien’s eyes crinkled and she felt herself relax slightly. “Just sit,” he told her. “I’m supposed to pamper you today.”

The table was already set, so Marinette slid into the chair as Adrien set down her plate in front of her. On it were the eggs he had been frying, a scallion pancake, strawberries, and a generous serving of hash browns. Ever since his father had been defeated, Adrien started dropping by their family’s bakery more and more, and her mother had taken to both feeding him and teaching him how to properly cook. It turned out that Adrien had what Sabine called the Culinary Touch, because once he started learning, everything he made was heavenly.

Her mug was set down before her, and Marinette let out a squeak of delight. “You learned how to do this?” she asked, beaming at the cream heart decorated perfectly on top.

Adrien gave her a cheeky grin. “I love you a latte,” he announced proudly.

Marinette moaned. “You ruined it.”

“Nah, you love my puns.”

“I love a lot of things about you, but your internet-stolen puns aren’t one of them.”

He feigned hurt, clutching his chest. “All of this,” he cried, gesturing grandly, “was for that pun. I only ask for a minuscule amount of appreciation, Bugaboo, yet you wound me with your insults—���

“Shut up, drama queen,” Marinette laughed, picking up her utensils. “Ugh, I’ve been craving scallion pancakes for so long. And you make these exactly like my mom.”

Adrien preened. “We established that I am your mother last night,” he reminded her.

“I don’t claim responsibility for anything I said, agreed to, or didn’t agree to last night. Also, how did you get my transformation off?”

It was Adrien’s turn to groan. “I had to bribe you into saying Tikki, spots off, ” he grumbled. “You don’t know how hard it was. For someone who put up such a struggle about not wanting to sleep, as soon as you touched the bed, you were out like a light.”

Marinette, not remembering anything that happened last night, was more than happy not to recall. “But you managed it in the end, didn’t you?”

“But at what cost?” Adrien speared a hashbrown. “What would Paris think to know that their beloved Ladybug was actually such a bratty menace?”

Torn between curious and mortified, Marinette asked, “What did I do?”

Adrien gave her a wicked little grin. “I’m not telling,” he sang.

Not wanting to give him the satisfaction of seeing her beg for the answer, Marinette dug back into her breakfast and tried to appear disinterested. Apparent lack of interest was always the easiest way for Adrien to crack.

It only took a minute or so before he spoke up again. “Do you want to know what you did?”

Marinette arched an eyebrow at him. “You’re asking, not me.”

“C’mon, humour me, buginette.”  

“Only because you said so, chaton. What deal with the devil did you strike last night?”

He grinned. “I think I’ll save that for another time. You need to get to work soon.”

Marinette glared at him, mentally filing away the fact that she was going to wiggle the information out of him one way or another. Stuffing the last piece of scallion pancake into her mouth, she sat back with a content sigh. “This was good.”

“And it was a well balanced meal,” Adrien added drily, also cleaning his plate. “Which you should be eating despite the fact that you have a final project due. I saw at least three Chinese take-outs in your trash can.”

“One was from last week!”

Adrien wrinkled his nose. “Is that supposed to be better or worse?”

Shaking her head, she smiled at him instead. “Thank you,” Marinette told Adrien, and she meant it. “You’re the best.”

He returned the smile, green eyes crinkling. Back in lycée, her heart would’ve turned to mush if he smiled at her in such a way. Now, five years later, Marinette was no closer to stopping the butterflies in her stomach. It wasn’t her fault he had such a lovely smile.

Adrien was the first to look away, sweeping her empty plate from in front of her in one smooth movement. “I’ll do the dishes,” he offered. “Finish your project, and maybe we can cook dinner together.”

Before Marinette could agree, he leaned down and planted a quick kiss against her cheek in one fluid movement. “Good luck. I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

She stared at him for a couple seconds longer as he headed towards the kitchen. She didn’t deserve Adrien. Amazing, kindhearted, hardworking, considerate Adrien who was everything anybody could ever ask for.

“Marinette?” he stuck his head out. “I love you a latte.”

She groaned. Of course he had to pun.

"I also love you a latte," she replied reluctantly.

(All the embarrassment was worth the grin that spread across his face.)  

Notes: This is part 3 of my lovesquare drabbles, although they’re all loosely interconnected and each work as a standalone. If you’re interested, here’s part one, and here’s part two! 

Here’s my fic masterlist.

[darlingpetao3]

One of Those Faces (H.R. Wells x Reader x Harry Wells, Part 1)

Rating: G

Summary: As a barista at Jitters, an accident leads you to meet the charming and energetic H.R. But some time later, he returns as a massive standoffish grump. It’s as if he’s two different people...

A/N: This is a collaboration that the lovely @hwells-ho-train​​ and I started back in the fall. It is the first of many fun things we’ve been concocting together behind the scenes!

Tag List: @fandomdancer​ @bluesclues-1234​

(x)

You’ve grown accustomed to the whirs of the espresso machines. So much so, that every night when you head home from work as a barista at Jitters, it’s odd not to hear the sounds.

Some days are more gruelling than others at the coffee shop, especially when autumn rolls around and there’s a burst of customers. Pumpkin Spice lattes, anyone? Or as they’re called at this time of year, a “Spicy Flash.”

What? It’s not like you name these things.

And of course, you’ll have to deal with customers’ picky and often complicated orders. You feel bad for the newbies when this happens, but you have no problem because you’re a whiz at your job. At some points though, it all feels monotonous.

That is until he started to show up.

‘He’ being HR Wells. 

You’d been training a new barista that day, passing on your knowledge of how to brew the perfect cup of coffee when a tall man in a Pork Pie hat threw open the door with gusto and took a deep breath through the nose. Upon exhaling, he shut his eyes and made the impurest noise you’d ever heard (inside of a coffee joint).

“Ahh, that’s the stuff!” His broad smile revealing even, white teeth and a pair of dimples to die for. If that weren’t enough to grab your attention, upon opening his eyes, you saw they were so blue they seemed to glow. You were so lost in those sparkling azure orbs, that the perfect cup of coffee you’d been pouring overflowed and scalded your hand.

“Ouch!” 

SMASH.

The coffee cup exploded into shards, and your anxious new barista squeaked in alarm at the mess.

Dammit, way to make a first impression.

The handsome stranger’s blissful look shifted to one of utmost concern as he turned his gaze towards you.

“Whoa there!” he exclaimed while whipping a white cloth out of his back pocket. Wetting it down at the water fountain, he wasted no time in grabbing your injured hand and gently pressing the cool cloth to your injury.

Between your mortification and the pain in your hand, you felt like crying. “Thank you, but I really should get that mess cleaned up.”

He turned those big soulful blue eyes on you. “Oh please, not yet, it’s so rare that I get to play the hero.” He punctuated his statement with a charming grin and you were utterly lost in it all, letting him lead you to an empty table with the comforting pressure of his big warm hand.

“Do you come here often?” you asked him, only understanding how it sounded a little too late. The stranger raised a flirty eyebrow at you.

“Do you come on to all your customers, or am I just tremendously lucky?” he asked you in return.

“I didn’t mean it like that…” You could feel your face grow hotter than the sun (or that coffee you spilled on your hand). The man chuckled.

“To answer your question, no, I’ve only just discovered this magnificent little shop, but I can already tell it’s my favorite place.”

Did you just imagine the little squeeze he gave your hand?

“Can I get you a drink?” you offered. Dammit, I need to stop accidentally using pick-up lines! “A coffee? Latte? You know, because that’s my job and you’re the customer?”

His smile almost blinded you.

“That would be delightful…” he drew out the last syllable before his eyes focused on your name tag. “(Y/N)!” 

Your silly little heart fluttered at the way he said it. As though it were the most beautiful name he’d ever heard.

“But first,” he raised a finger in the air before eyeing your hand critically. “Let’s take care of this.” 

He tied the damp handkerchief (who carries those anymore?) around your hand. Then he sat back and judged his handiwork for a moment. 

“How’s that?”

“Beautiful,” you said dreamily before snapping back to yourself. “I mean- excellent, really great! I can’t thank you enough…?”  You left it open-ended since you still didn’t know his name.

He bowed deeply. “HR Wells, at your service, milady.”

Good grief, you really needed to stop grinning like an idiot.

“Well then, HR,” your breath caught a bit at saying his name for the first time, watching as he grinned at you. “Let’s get you that drink.”

——————

It had started out as a day like any other. Night shift left a mess of the cappuccino machine, and you were busily cleaning it down before opening when a movement out of the corner of your eye caught your attention. A tall figure draped in black stood hunched against the early morning winds. You still had five minutes until you officially flipped the sign, but it was just one guy.

Putting on your cheeriest customer service grin, you turned the latch and opened the door. “Good morning! You look miserable out there, let’s get you something warm.”

The man seemed taken aback at your bubbly greeting, but he shuffled in quick enough, muttering a gravelly sounding “thanks” and followed you back to the counter.

It occurred to you that letting this random man in while you were completely alone in the unlit shop was not one of your better ideas. If he robbed you, you’d never be able to identify him in the dark. With that grim thought in mind, you went to the control panel and flipped every light on in the building.

“There, that’s better,” your sudden anxiety made your voice louder than usual. “So, what can I get you-” your question dying on your lips when you finally got a clear look at him in normal light.

It was the man from the other day - the man with the sharp blue eyes who helped you after your accident. HR! He was still as handsome as ever... But why does he seem gruffer? He certainly didn’t look as sweet and joyful as he had last time, more so rough around the edges.

I guess not everyone is a morning person, or else they wouldn’t come here!

“It’s nice to see you!” you chirped with a big smile, hoping that will help his morning mood before you got him his cup of java.

The man frowned at you, but you continued to write it off.

“Thanks?” he said, sounding unsure.

“Not a problem,” you waved away his apology. “Now let’s see, what sort of sweet deliciousness are you in the mood for today?” You inwardly cringed - you might have oversold that. Judging by the wariness distorting his pretty face, you definitely did.

“Black. To go.” He replied shortly and then slowly backed away.

You blinked at his abruptness. Where had your happy-go-lucky Knight in Shining Armor gone? “Ok, yeah, right away.” You turned away, feeling like a total dummy.

You busied yourself in getting his drink, and your mind began to wander to your favorite theory from the past few days - what does HR stand for? Harold Rothchild? Horacio Roberto? It’s been quite fun to make up the names in your head.

When the drink was finished, you popped a lid on it, scribbled on the side, and slid the cup on the table over to the grumpy man. “Here you are! Hope you enjoy it, have a nice day!”

“Thanks.” He turned, muttering, “Horatio Rob-?” and immediately left, which made you feel like your last meeting with him never even happened. It was like he was a whole other person...

[mamabearcatfanfics]

More Than Words - One

“Please, please, please, please, please Kagome!”

She looked up from her laptop to roll her eyes at the dark haired man leaning over her desk, his violet eyes beseeching, hands together as if in prayer.

“You would think by now Miroku, that you of all people would know that when a lady says no, she means no”, she said dryly, dropping her attention back to the computer screen in front of her. It was boring work, but if everything wasn’t just so, the tender documents could be rejected, and she really didn’t want to open that can of worms with her project manager.

“But Kagome”, he continued pleading. “She’s amazing, gorgeous, an angel!” His eyes misted over as he gazed off into the middle distance. “I think it’s her. I think I’ve finally found the love of my life.” Kagome snorted, and his eyes flicked back to hers. “You don’t believe me?” he said with a wounded expression.

“Miroku”, Kagome sighed, “you probably spoke to her for a maximum of what, two minutes, tops? And that was to order coffee. How is this girl any different from the temp secretary you took out on a date after the office Christmas party three weeks ago? Or that girl you abandoned me for last Friday night when we went out to karaoke? I’m not going to hound some poor woman minding her own business into giving you her number just because you have the unfortunate habit of falling for every pretty face you see!”

Miroku shook his head. “No, you don’t understand. This was different. When my fingers touched hers, it was, like, I don’t know, a spiritual connection.” He sighed, leaning against Kagome’s desk, his hand over his heart. “She owns me, body and soul.”

“Oh my god Miroku,” Kagome chortled, pushing his hip off her desk. “If you were any cheesier I’d need to run out and buy wine and crackers! You do realise that you sound like someone out of one of those trashy romance movies on daytime TV? Next you’ll be writing sonnets and saying you were struck by Cupid’s arrow.” She got up from her desk to move over to the filing cabinet, rifling through the files. “I still don’t see why I need to be involved anyway - just ask her for her number herself if you’re so desperate!”

Miroku sighed, hanging his head despondently. “I’ve been banned. By her guard dog.” Kagome looked at him questioningly. “The barista.”

“You got banned from a café by the barista? What on earth did you do!?” She held up her hands, the file in them covering her view of Miroku as he opened his mouth to explain. “No, don’t tell me, on second thoughts, I don’t want to know!”

“Kagome, I’m begging you! Just talk to her. If she doesn’t want to give her number to me, I’ll admit defeat. I just need to know! What if I did all your filing for the next week?”

Kagome shook her head. “No way! I’ve only just got all my files back in order from when you meddled with my stuff when I was on leave.”

“I’ll walk your dog.”

“I have a cat.”

“I’ll do your tax return for you.”

“I’d like to stay out of prison, thanks very much.”

“I’ll, I’ll… “ Miroku looked around the office, as if searching for inspiration, his eyes alighting on Kagome’s much loved pink coffee cup, sitting empty and forlorn on her desk. “I’ll buy you coffee for the next month!”

Kagome stared him. “You’re offering to buy me coffee for a whole month?” He nodded. “And this is whether she gives me her number or not?” Miroku nodded again. Kagome bumped the filing cabinet drawer shut with her hip, then placed the folders on her desk, turning back to him with a gleeful expression on her face.

Miroku’s face fell when he realised exactly how much that this might cost him in monetary terms. Kagome loved her coffee; she was rarely seen without her favourite coffee mug in her hand. And she did a lot of overtime, often working back late at the office, weekends too when a tender was due.

Kagome grinned even wider and slapped him on the shoulder. “Miroku, my lovestruck friend, you’ve got yourself a deal!”

 ☕💘☕

 Kagome walked towards the tiny hole in the wall coffee shop a few blocks away from the office. It was literally only a door and a window wide, the exterior painted in matte black, with a white awning shading the customers waiting outside in the hot Australian summer sun. The business name adorned the glass window, a simple red circle with black text in a strong block font - Black Dog Coffee.

There was a line of people heading out the door waiting patiently, some chatting quietly, but most looking down at their phones. As she got further forward in the line, she was amused to notice that everyone followed the same pattern – a step towards the woman taking orders, stating their name and order and paying, then two steps to the left while they waited for their coffee. The woman at the cash register didn’t take another order until the first one had been filled, yet no one complained. That was kind of odd, but the line was moving fairly swiftly, so she guessed it worked, even though it wasn’t how cafés usually took their coffee orders. It was hard to see what was going on from her position in the line, stuck behind a tall guy in a business suit. She decided to look up reviews for the coffee shop online while she was waiting.

‘This coffee is the absolute bomb, but don’t piss off the barista!’

‘Was recommended to me by a friend. Coffee is amazing.’

‘Kinda weird. They only sell coffee, roast their own beans I think. The barista is something else!’

‘Would wait in line all day for this coffee!!’

‘Worst experience ever. Got BANNED because I tried to order more than five things. And they have no food, just coffee. WTF! Pretty sure the barista was in the yakuza – that guy has tatts for days! 0/10 would recommend.’

‘Follow the ordering protocol and you’ll be sweet – best coffee in the downtown financial district.’

‘OMG – best coffee EVER! I’m now a daily customer.’

Hmmm. She tried to peer around the tall guy in front of her, but she couldn’t see anything; the afternoon sun was reflecting off the glass covered office building nearby, getting in her eyes and making her squint. She fanned her face with her hand. Man it was hot. You could fry an egg out here on the cement. She hoped the coffee was worth the freckles she was probably getting on her nose right now. The tall guy stepped forward to make his order, and she caught a glimpse of the woman behind the cash register.  

Long glossy brown hair with thick bangs, and a bright smile. Her brown eyes, highlighted by bright pink eyeshadow, sparkled with warmth; she was giving her total attention to the current person she was engaging with. She wasn’t much taller than Kagome herself and the tight black t-shirt she was wearing with the name Sango embroidered on the pocket accentuated her generous curves.

Kagome sighed. Miroku was nothing if not predictable – he loved curvy ladies. But how was she going to ask for this woman’s number without causing a disruption – everyone seemed to be on board with the ordering system, and if the coffee was as good as the reviews promised there was no way she was going to get herself banned from coming back.

She glanced down to the time on her phone, and then to the opening hours printed on the tiny shop window. It was almost closing time. Maybe if she hung back for a little while and caught the woman after they’d shut up shop? She groaned internally, trying not to think of the work still waiting for her on her desk. She should have held out for two months of coffee.

The tall man stepped to the side. Crap, she needed to order.

“Good afternoon ma’am. What would you like?” The woman’s smile was wide and welcoming.

“Uh, a large latte please, no sugar”, Kagome said, holding up her credit card ready to tap payment.

“Name please?”

“Kagome. That’s K – A…”

“That’s okay, I know how to spell it.” Kagome watched with interest as the woman wrote her name on the coffee lid in curving characters. Was that hirigana? She vaguely recognised it was her name being written from the two terms of Japanese she did in high school. A grunt came from her left, and she realised with a little start that she was meant to move to one side.

She stood in front of the gleaming commercial espresso machine, eyes closing as she savoured the rich coffee aroma. It smelt amazing, rich and full. Not burnt. It was a little hard to see the barista; her view was blocked by towers of takeaway coffee cups in various sizes. But those reviews that mentioned him had made her curious now. She stepped to the side a little more. Ah, there he was.

He was taller than her - she guessed she’d come up to just above his shoulder, but then she wasn’t exactly tall herself at 5’2”. He had long dark hair, looped back in a low ponytail, with a choppy fringe and slightly longer forelocks  on either side of his face, tanned skin that was complemented by the white collarless t-shirt he wore under a denim apron. His expression as he looked downward to make the coffee was stern, but she didn’t see what he had to be so grumpy about. Maybe he was just hot? Maybe he just took his job very seriously? He moved out from behind the coffee machine and her eyes widened at the sight of his forearms, revealed by the shirt sleeves pushed up to his elbows. They were covered in tattoos from the wrist; dark sleeves of swirling black water flowing up his arms, broken only by pink and red cherry blossoms, with a hint of green and yellow. Then he looked up.

His eyes. They were hazel, for want of a better description, but such a light hazel that they almost looked golden. With the late afternoon sun behind her, lighting his face, they almost sparkled like citrine quartz. He placed the lid on her coffee, then set it down in front of her.

“Kagome.”

He’d pronounced her name right. Ka-goh-meh. She was so used to the way most Australians butchered her Japanese name, a way for her parents to honour her Japanese grandfather, that she was immune to its mispronunciation, but he’d said it just right. Just. Right. His voice was deep and a little husky. He made that small grunting noise in the back of his throat again, his strong dark brows lowering a little, and she realised in embarrassment that she was staring at him.

“Uh, yes, I’m sorry, yeah that’s me! I’m Kagome.” Idiot. Of course he knew that, it’s not like there was anyone else standing right in front of him waiting! She reached out for her coffee where he’d placed it on the edge of the counter, and then backed away, pink cheeked, as another person stepped to the side to wait for their coffee.

She moved to stand in front of the shop next door, taking out her phone for something to do while she waited for closing time, slowly sipping her coffee, which was glorious by the way. But she couldn’t give herself over fully to her enjoyment of the taste, unable to control her wandering eyes.

‘Oh my god, he’s gorgeous! I’ve never seen anyone with eyes that colour before. And that’s so much ink on his arms - that must have hurt like a bitch! I never would have picked that a guy would get cherry blossom sleeves, but they don’t look girly on him at all - the exact opposite really. I wonder if they go all the way up his arms? God, now I’m imagining him with his shirt off - bad girl, Kagome! Maybe the cherry blossoms are a cultural thing? I think he’s Japanese, and I’m pretty sure that’s my name in hirigana on the coffee lid, but I don’t want to make an assumption just based on that and his looks. I wonder what he’s thinking about? He doesn’t look unhappy or angry exactly, just… determined? Maybe he just has resting bitch face.’ She snorted a little at that thought, then sighed. ‘His movements are so graceful and fluid, it’s like watching someone do tai chi or something. Oh, he has such nice hands - strong fingers. I could watch him make coffee aaaaall day.’

She gazed dreamily, sipping at her coffee slowly, the phone in her hand forgotten. Golden eyes suddenly met hers, one eyebrow raised in a puzzled expression. ‘Oh shit, he’s looking this way. He’s noticed that I’m looking at him. Abort! Abort! Oh fuck… This is all your fault Miroku!’

She turned tail and fled, almost running back to the office. The reviews had been right. The hot coffee was amazing, but the hot barista? Yeah, he was definitely something else. She knew she would be back first thing in the morning to get another coffee. And it wasn’t just because the coffee was amazing and that he was beautiful to look at. There was something about him. She wanted to get to know him better.

Miroku was waiting for her out the front of their office building. “So, did you get it?” he asked eagerly.

“What?”

“Did you get her number. Sango’s number?”

“Uh…” Shit. She’d been so flustered when he had suddenly looked up and met her gaze that she’d turned tail and fled without remembering why she was waiting there in the first place. Damn. Heat washed across her cheeks, and she flicked her gaze away from Miroku’s.

“Our calm and collected Kagome blushing? Oh, there must be a good story behind this – do tell!”

“No story. You’ve ordered coffee from there before – I didn’t want to do anything to upset the system and get banned like you did! There just wasn’t an opportunity today – I’ll try again tomorrow.”

Miroku poked her in the ribs. “But surely that wouldn’t make you blush Kags! C’mon, spill.”

“There’s nothing to tell!” she spluttered.

Suddenly Miroku burst out laughing. “Oh ho ho, I get it. You were so busy perving at the guard dog making the coffee that you forgot what you were there for.”

“Shut. Up.”

Miroku grinned at her. “Aw, little Kagome finally got a crush on someone. Were you struck by Cupid’s arrow?” he teased, throwing the phrase she’d used before back at her with a note of triumph in his voice. Kagome squirmed under his knowing gaze, and he chuckled. “Looks like Cupid’s been pretty busy with his arrows around that coffee shop, huh?”

Kagome made a growling noise in the back of her throat, then the corners of her lips curled up in a knowing smile. She blinked at him innocently, raising her takeaway cup.

“You may be right Miroku. You may be right. And I’m thinking the best way to get to know him will be to buy coffee. Lots of coffee. I hope you’re ready to pay up, buddy!” She sipped her coffee and patted him on his suddenly slumping shoulders as she walked past him into the foyer of the building and back to her desk full of filing, savouring every last drop.

  ☕💘☕

 Inuyasha pondered as he polished the already gleaming coffee maker. Sango had just left for the day, after balancing the till, and he was doing a final clean up, ensuring everything would be ready for 7am opening.

That girl. Kagome. She’d been staring at him. Usually that made him feel intensely uncomfortable. Growing up in an orphanage had internalised that being stared at was a bad thing, because pain caused by kids much larger and stronger than him usually followed close behind. That was until he’d been there so long that he was the large and strong one, handing out punches to anyone picking on the tiny ones. But he hadn’t got that uncomfortable feeling from her when she’d stared.

He knew he was considered attractive by some people. But her looking at him hadn’t given him that slimy creepy feeling that being ogled purely for looks gave him either. She had looked at him like he was a puzzle she wanted to work out.

He tried to picture her in his mind’s eye, but all he really remembered was dark shining hair like a corvid’s wing, and very blue eyes. She’d been small too, very petite. He rolled her name around in his head, as it tugged on a memory, and he suddenly thought of the rhyming game from his childhood about a bird caught in a cage. It was fitting – her mannerisms reminded him of a little bird - a wren, with bright inquisitive eyes. And when he’d looked up at her and caught her staring, she’d flapped her wings in fright and flown away. He chuckled. He hoped she wasn’t caught in a cage of some sort. No one deserved that.

He shut off the lights to the tiny shop, and walked into the studio behind it, flopping down on his bed with his laptop, ready to spend another evening struggling through his online English class. A little orange fluffball of a kitten jumped on to his lap, trying to sit on the keys, and he pushed it off.

“Shippou! Dame!”

The kitten settled down next to his thigh, snuggling against him and purring, and he turned his attention back to the screen. It was hard, learning a language this way, but he was determined. He had escaped his own cage, and he was never going back.

☕💘☕

PART TWO

[pollylynn]

Title: Contagious Magic WC: 1200

“Do you believe that people get what they deserve?” — Richard Castle, Wrapped Up in Death (2 x 19)

To the extent that it’s appropriate for a homicide detective—a servant of the people—to be up for a murder, she is up for a case like Will Medina’s. After Dunn and far too many days in a row with “the federal her,” after homelessness and a brief stint in his very rowdy, very crowded house, she is up for mummies and an unexpected behind-the-scenes tour at a cherished childhood institution. 

She deploys her skill at taking in the background details of a scene, even as she’s conducting an interview. She stores up the sights and sounds of the bustling, dusty space with its enormous packing crates and delicate objects set in careful rows. She imagines telling her dad all about it when she sees him on the weekend and how they’ll laugh at the thought of her mom driving the team of scientists absolutely mad with a million questions. 

She’s giving Stanford Raynes most of her attention, but in the lure of her background world-building, she loses track of Castle. That’s never a good thing when she needs to round up a crowd for interviews. But there’s a fedora flying, there’s glass shattering and a very agitated mummy specialist before she realizes how actively bad a thing it is to lose track of him here of all places. 

But for once, fate roughs him up almost immediately for his crimes. There’s a curse, and his shenanigans have put him right in its path. She’s kind of up for that, too. She’s especially up for it—hell, she is down right challenge accepted  about it—when he takes a giant step out of character and suddenly scoffs at the supernatural. A well-timed paper cut sets the stage, and she is more than happy to take care of the rest. 

She feels a little bump of guilt when he goes down hard—tail bone–fracturingly hard she fears—with the chair. But he’s being kind of grumpy and far less fun about this ridiculous case than he ought to be, and she ends up feeling sorrier for his already-sorry chair than for him. She ends up mourning the loss of one of the latte cups she loves more than his inadvertent display of his upper vocal register when he gets a face full of harmless steam substitute. 

She ends up annoyed with him, because even when the wheel turns—when she has revealed her own diablerie and the completely normal origins of his paranormal punishment, and he is suddenly the true believer—he’s grumpy. He’s on edge and not fun and she doesn’t understand why, when she’s really up for this. She decides to ignore whatever’s going on with him. She decides to revel in the Indiana Jones Meets Small-Time Drug Lords of it all, all on her own.  She doesn’t have much of a choice when he leaves for far longer than it should take him to change his damned jeans. 

They recover a little when he follows her down the Scooby-Doo path. Without hesitation he informs her that she’s Daphne, not Velma, and he shows his work—smart, hot, long legs. She gets to scold him, and it seems like they’re back on an even keel for about two tenths of a second.

But then there’s the elevator, and he is vibrating with anxiety and disturbingly serious. He asks her to look after Alexis and her jaw just about hits the floor. Even though he tries to counterbalance it with a crack about shooting frisky teenagers  and another about porn, he’s serious. She can see his pulse jumping in his wrist, in the confines of his collared shirt and she is annoyed, because this should be . . . at least as fun as a homicide investigation can be. 

She’s out of patience with everything and everyone by the time Stanford Raynes tries to flee. The man wipes out on the highly polished marble landing and tumbles painfully down to the next. She watches with appropriate and sincere horror, but a small, irritated voice inside her says, Serves him right. 

Damned near simultaneously, Castle turns to her and says, “Still say there’s no curse?” 

It’s a joke. It’s meant to be a dry, witty bit of punctuation on the end of this absurdity, but there’s too much sincerity in it. There is too much genuine worry, and it occurs to her that she’s being kind of an ass here. She catches Esposito’s eye and angles her head down the flight of stairs, a silent instruction to handle the collar. Esposito nods an acknowledgment. 

She tugs Castle out of the flow of sudden traffic by the lapel of his jacket. She pulls him around a right angle and up on to a short out-of-the way set of stairs. She sinks down to sit and hauls him along with her. 

“The curse was me. That’s all.” She dips her head. She feels silly, but she wants to look him in the eye. “You know that, right?” 

“I know that,” he mumbles, but he presses his hand to the front of his jacket, as though he wants to be sure of something. “But what if—“ 

“No ‘what if’.” She bats his hand away from whatever he’s fiddling with. “What is going on with you?” 

He mumbles something about Alexis. It’s slightly less intelligible than her first go at mummified human tissue, but it’s enough to zzott her right between the eyes. She glances at the face of her dad’s watch. It’s stupid. It has no date function, but she doesn’t really need it. 

He’s just had a birthday. It might have been a big one with a round number. Or that may be a year in the past, a year in the future. He’s a chronic over-sharer in public and private, but for some reason his exact date of birth is a grey area. 

He hasn’t said much about it. He’s said absolutely nothing, in fact, and she’s not sure if he’s just sparing her, given all she’s been through lately, or if it’s him. If it’s a piece of the not-fun puzzle he’s been lately. She’s not sure if he’s feeling his own mortality as his kid grows up and away from him, if he’s genuinely worried about leaving her alone in the world. 

She’s just not sure, but it doesn’t matter. Her course of action is the same, either way. She grabs the brass railing up and to her right. She pulls herself up and, with difficulty given the sulking dead weight he is right now, him along with her. “Come on, Castle.”

“Come on where?” he asks, small-voiced, anxious, and more than a little sulky. “Where?” 

She stops a moment to orient herself, then strides for the basement offices, where they’re sure to find Rupert Bentley Scrooge McDucking his way through life. She thinks of all the ways she knows to leverage him. She thinks of Cacaw Te in her holding cell and the answers he no doubt has. She devises a Scooby-Doo-level plan.

“To break a curse,” she says firmly. She is so up for that. 

A/N: Ugh. New depths of overly long not-thing-ness. 

images via homeofthenutty

[chouetteffraie]

A Splash of Good Cheer [Dazatsu Secret Santa]

@looking-for-stray-dogs surprise!! I really liked this other, fluffier prompt of yours and I couldn’t help myself!! Here’s a bonus fic for you! It isn’t as long as the other one, so think of it as a little stocking stuffer ;D

Prompt: Gingerbread latte, straberry shortcake frappucino, hot chocolate spiced with cinnamon, and the many adventures of Atsushi and Dazai falling prey to every Christmas-themed drink

@dazatsu-exchange

String lights hung from the ceilings, dripping down the painted walls like icicles and casting the room in a golden glow. A quiet hum drifted in the air as people filed in the cafe, placing orders and losing themselves in conversation. Different scents of cinnamon and peppermint spread throughout the room as Dazai looked around him. Outside on the darkening streets, people bundled in heavy coats and scarves, most weighed down with shopping bags, peered in the cozy building.

A soft chuckle drew Dazai’s attention from his surroundings, warming his insides like the half-finished drink he had cupped in his hands. When he lowered his gaze he found Atsushi watching him fondly, questioning expression drawing one eyebrow up as he tilted his head. “What’s so funny?” Dazai asked, tilting his head to mirror Atsushi.

“Hm? Oh, nothing, really. I’m just...happy,” Atsushi answered, leaning back in his seat. “Although I do find your people-watching endearing, if a compliment was what you were after.”

Dazai’s first impulse was to give a dramatic sigh and slump in his seat, bemoaning his misfortune in having such a mean subordinate. However, that idea fell flat when he took a look at Atsushi’s face. As Atsushi lowered the mug in his hands, smelling potently of peppermint and chocolate, he revealed a small dollop of whipped cream on his nose- a sight as cute as it was ridiculous. Reaching over the table, Dazai stopped when Atsushi quickly jerked away.

“Atsushi, you have something on your face,” Dazai justified, hand hovering in the air between them. Scrunching his nose, Atsushi shook his head and furrowed his eyebrows.

“No way! Not after last time,” Atsushi insisted. The grumpy look on his face straightened out after he sighed, shifting in his seat. 

“What do you mean?” Dazai asked indignantly. “I didn’t do anything last time!”

“Oh? Then why don’t you tell me how my gingerbread latte tasted?”

Dazai blinked owlishly at Atsushi for a moment, trying to fight the growing grin from blooming on his face. Ducking his head, Dazai chuckled in defeat before admitting, “It was pretty good.”

“Wish I could’ve tasted it,” The bitterness in Atsushi’s voice didn’t reach his face. He turned his head away and lifted his hand to cover his mouth, trying to cover his smile. Folding his hands with his elbows on the table, Dazai rested his chin on them and watched the quirk of his mouth, how it would rise and fall as he tried to stop himself. After a minute, Atsushi finally straightened his face out and looked back at him. “You still need to take me back before Christmas-”

Dazai was certain he looked absolutely lovestruck, slumped over and watching Atsushi with what he could only imagine was one of the softest looks he’d given him to date. The way Atsushi’s sentence faltered only proved his theory. Under the soft, cheery glow, Atsushi’s cheeks flushed as he smiled back, robbing Dazai’s heart of its steady metronomic beat. I certainly wouldn’t mind a million more of these dates with you, Dazai thought as his heart sputtered before beating back in time with his breathing.

“Don’t worry, I plan to,” Dazai assured, waving a hand absently. Then, stretching his arm out again, he added, “But you aren’t going anywhere until I get that off your face-”

With a startled yelp, Atsushi drew his hands, still wrapped around his mug, towards him. The hot chocolate splashed over the table and his hands, which he quickly pulled towards him while sucking his breath through his teeth. Dazai bit his tongue so he didn’t make a hissing joke- or a joke about cat-like reflexes, either. 

Before he could ask him if he was alright, Atsushi started laughing nervously, embarrassment painting his face red under the confused eyes of the other patrons. “It didn’t really burn me,” He admitted, “But could you get me some napkins, please?”

“On it,” Dazai responded, pushing his chair back and walking past Atsushi. Thinking for a moment, he walked a few steps backward and stooped in front of him, grinning once their eyes met.

“Is there a problem?” Atsushi asked, cradling one hand in the other.

“No. I just wanted to tell you that I wasn’t kidding when I was trying to get something off your face,” Dazai responded, gently brushing the pad of his pointer finger across Atsushi’s nose. Holding up the whipped cream for him to see, he asked, “See?”

Atsushi watched as Dazai stuck his finger in his mouth, gaping uselessly at him. Dazai took the moment to press a quick kiss to his nose before straightening out his back. “Now I’ll get you those napkins.”

At the heat rising even further up his face, Atsushi pressed his hands to his cheeks, dismayed to see they weren’t cold enough to provide relief. Heaving a sigh, he tried to bite back the smile yet again resurfacing. Ah, well, he thought, at least red is a festive color this time of year.

[sickjoonie]

could u pls write something where an omega is going through heat and an alpha on their rut (maybe the omegas heat triggered it?) and both feel miserable but try to take care of each other anyway? maybe the alpha tried helping the omega but ended up feeling sick too? idc which members you choose tbh, whichever ones you see fit for this, thank you if you decide to write this!

this is the ask that inspired the whole au :>> enjoy

-

heats were, and always had been, a pain in jimin’s ass. there was nothing exciting about spending half the week rotating between crying over spilling water to holing up in the bathroom with stomach pains to having his appetite go haywire.

the symptoms were different with every omega. some experienced no stomach pain, others got uncomfortably horny (which isn’t as sexy as it sounds and more incredibly annoying to deal with), and some barely experienced any symptoms at all. while social media liked to claim that sex was the solution to all their heat woes, that solution only lasted a couple of hours. usually by the time the symptoms returned, the omega was too worn out physically and emotionally to try another round.

jimin considered himself lucky; he only had to deal with heats every two months. at the same time, it meant he didn’t qualify for suppressants, seeing how his cycle was spread out enough that it didn’t greatly disrupt his work.

his coworker, namjoon, wasn’t as lucky. he was on the strongest suppressants possible yet still dealt with surprise heats. though according to him, it wasn’t as bad as it had been before.

“there was one month where i went into heat three times,” namjoon had told him once. “it really fucked up my body. i ended up in the hospital after collapsing.”

jimin had only been hospitalized for a heat once during college when he wasn’t eating as much as he should have been. it was an experience that he learned to avoid.

at the end of the day, however, heats were still unpleasant, even if jimin didn’t have them as frequently. he knew the symptoms of preheat and knew to dread them.

so when jimin woke up with no appetite and a headache that he knew couldn’t be chased away with some painkillers, he groaned loudly and buried his head under his pillow.

he felt his boyfriend stir, rolling over to make a lazy attempt at cuddling jimin. jimin groaned again, silently mourning the loss of being able to be productive for the next few days.

“mm, minnie is grumpy today,” his boyfriend teased, drawing small circles with his finger on jimin’s back.

“hobi hyung,” jimin whined. “my heat is tomorrow.”

jimin felt hoseok’s hand slowly settle on his back. “ah, i suppose it’s about time you had one, huh?” 

jimin sighed, pulling himself out from underneath the pillow and sitting up. he could feel his hair sticking up in all sorts of directions in little tuffs. he pouted down at hoseok, silently conveying his need for attention.

hoseok had been with him long enough that he knew right before a heat hit, jimin needed cuddles. he wanted to be held and have his hair pet; little reassurances helped him face his heat a bit better. he sat up and draped himself over jimin’s side, one hand coming up to pet the younger’s hair.

“i’ll have to tell my boss today. we’re in the middle of revising a book as well, ugh. my body hates me.”

hoseok hummed softly, scratching lightly at jimin’s scalp. “i’ll take the days off too, baby. we can start preparing your nest tonight, does that sound good?”

jimin nodded, leaning back into hoseok. he sighed. “i still have to go to work today.”

“mhm.” hoseok nuzzled into jimin’s neck, pressing light kisses to the exposed skin. he rubbed his cheek over the junction between his shoulder and neck, leaving his scent there. he knew well that jimin loved his citrus scent, often asking hoseok to scent him when he wanted comfort.

jimin smiled softly, then gently swatted at hoseok’s arms. “i need to get up now or else i never will.”

hoseok reluctantly pulling away, laying back against the bed. “i’ll leave the dance studio a bit earlier so i can help you prepare.”

“thank you, hyung.” jimin leaned over to steal a kiss before finally going through his morning routine.

jimin was about to head out the door when hoseok got up, making a point to see jimin off.

“you’re gonna be okay, minnie.” hoseok kissed jimin’s nose, arms circled around the younger’s waist. “if it gets too much, you can always come home.”

jimin smiled, warmed by the affection from his boyfriend. “i’ll handle it. see you tonight, hyung.”

jimin left, departing with one last kiss. already, he felt exhausted, as if he had just finished a work day. the bus ride to work felt too long and he wanted nothing more than to go back home and curl up in bed with hoseok.

he entered the office ten minutes later than he normally would, having stopped to get some caffeine. it would help settle the migraine that seemed to be settling in and at least get him through the work day.

he sat down at his desk, sighing quietly and sipping at his too sugary latte. it was a testament to how often he drank; he could only handle the coffee taste when paired with something sweet.

his desk was connected to namjoon’s. namjoon was an omega as well, with round cheeks a bit of a tummy that he always blamed his boyfriends for. the two had bonded quickly, jimin’s sweet personality mixing well with namjoon’s calm one.

namjoon raised an eyebrow upon seeing his coworker with coffee. “rough night?”

jimin gave a friendly smile. “heat’s tomorrow.” he knew the other omega would understand.

as predicted, namjoon winced in sympathy. “if you need me to help with any projects while you’re gone, let me know.” 

“i’ll forward some stuff to you. there’s no way i could finish everything today,” jimin sighed, running a nervous hand through his hair.

he set to work, sending off an email to his boss right away to warn her of his upcoming absence. jihyo was more than understanding of heat or rut related absences, having to deal with ruts herself.

the day passed slowly, everything seeming soaked in molasses. jimin blamed it on his exhaustion and the lingering headache. it made all the work that he desperately needed that to finish so much more difficult to complete. he couldn’t wait for the end of the day.

he groaned, stretching out his back. it was nearly five, the typical time he would normally get off. however, he was currently halfway through editing a section. it seemed namjoon spotted his reluctance as the omega quickly spoke up.

“forward it to me, jimin ah. you need to go home and rest, staying overtime would only make you more miserable.”

jimin sighed, though he knew namjoon was right. he saved the file and forwarded it to namjoon, giving the other a grateful smile. 

“i’ll be back in a couple of days,” jimin promised, gathering up his stuff and putting it away. he pulled on his coat, stretching his back out.

“say hi to hoseokie to me!” namjoon waved him goodbye, making no move himself to leave. most likely he was picking up the overtime for jimin; he was too sweet. jimin made note to help the older out in the future, specifically when his heat rolled around.

the journey home was uneventful, with jimin yawning more times than he wanted to admit. he made it back before hoseok, sighing softly into the empty apartment. 

without much energy to do much else, he headed to their bedroom. he was more than eager to strip out of his work uniform, the fabric scratchy and uncomfortable. his heat always made him more sensitive to fabric and different textures.

he replaced his uniform with his favorite pajama pants and a sweater that smelled distinctly of hoseok. the citrus smell always blended well with his own, a sweet ocean scent that hoseok always complimented.

jimin stretched his arms over his head, yawning loudly before collapsing on the bed. he curled up on top of the bedsheets, grabbing hoseok’s pillow to cuddle in his arms.

he closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath. he could feel the tension falling off his body, sleep quickly overtaking him.

he dozed lightly, waking only by the feeling of hands in his hair. he groggily opened his eyes, blurry vision revealing the familiar shape of hoseok. he automatically reached out, wanting more contact. he was rewarded by hoseok gathering him in his arms, lifting the younger to sit up and rest on his chest.

“mph,” jimin groaned, a bit disturbed by the sudden movement.

“my sleepy jiminie,” hoseok cooed, hand stroking the back of his hair on his neck. it felt nice, jimin noted. “you must be so exhausted after a day of work, huh baby?”

jimin nodded against hoseok’s chests. his hands reached out a grabbed the loose fabric of his mate’s shirt.

“you’re so clingy when you’re sleepy. so adorable.” hoseok kissed jimin’s hair. 

jimin didn’t counter that. he was already nearly completely asleep, cozy and warm against hoseok’s chest.

hoseok tsked, scratching lightly at jimin’s back. “come on, you need to eat. hyung made you food. afterwards, we need to set up your nest.”

jimin whined, feeling hoseok pull away. he pouted, seeing how he was forced to wake up. he watched as hoseok left the room, forcing jimin to get up. jimin grumbled, forcing himself up and sleepily trudging after him.

he found hoseok in the kitchen with a plate set on their table, smiling fondly at seeing his sleep ruffled boyfriend. jimin sat himself in front of the plate, stomach grumbling with a reminder of how hungry he actually was. he smiled; hoseok knew how hungry jimin got after naps and had gone out of the way to prepare a meal.

“love you hyungie,” jimin sighed happily, grabbing his chopsticks and scooping food into his mouth.

hoseok sat next to him, his own plate of food out. the two ate in silence, jimin focused on eating and hoseok content with observing him.

jimin cleared his plate, leaving his tummy full and warm. he traced his tummy lightly with his fingers, the tingling sensations making him sleepy all over again, while hoseok cleared up the dishes.

hoseok was ridiculously endeared when he came back and found jimin sleepily patting his tummy. he walked over so he was standing next to jimin, his hand settling on his mate’s neck. it was an intimate move, one that was reserved for mates only. it wasn’t a symbol of claiming but rather a sense of taking care of the other.

jimin let himself sink in the comforting feeling, knowing that by tomorrow, it would be gone. “i need to start on my nesting soon.”

hoseok hummed in agreement, fingers moving to play with the hairs on the back of jimin’s neck. “just tell me what you need and i’ll get it for you, minnie.”

jimin finally stood up, moving to cup hoseok’s cheeks with his tiny hands. “i just need you next to me.” he kissed hoseok softly, earning a content sigh from the other. “i also need you to gather all the blankets from the closet and your favorite hoodie.”

hoseok giggled, used to the younger’s demands. “i don’t think it’s so much my favorite hoodie as it is yours,” he teased.

jimin pouted, hands falling back to his side. “whatever. get moving, this nest isn’t gonna build itself.”

hoseok mock saluted jimin, earning him a whack on his ass when he walked away, laughter trailing after him.

the whole process of nesting took forever, in hoseok’s opinion. jimin justified that he was simply picky. certain blankets had to be located in certain locations, pillows needed to provide structure, and some blankets were merely for the outside structure.

jimin let hoseok gather everything for him and set to work constructing his nest, sniffing each blanket and pillow carefully. once hoseok had everything gathered, he was instructed to stay back and watch jimin construct the nest independently. after all, by nature, jimin was very independent and a perfectionist. hoseok could respect that.

jimin was exhausted by the time the nest was finished, yet satisfied with how everything was. he poked his head out, gesturing hoseok to come in. carefully, the older made his way in, snuggling up to jimin’s side.

“it’s perfect, love,” hoseok praised. they were surrounded by their own scents, giving the area a comfortable and cozy feeling.

jimin nodded, relaxing into hoseok’s arms. “‘m exhausted. nesting is hard work.”

“you put a lot of effort into it, but it makes you comfortable, so that’s what matters.”

jimin sighed, closing his eyes. “can you scent me hyung?”

hoseok easily obliged, nuzzling his scent onto jimin’s neck. jimin let it relax his muscles, letting him drift off to sleep.

hoseok held him close, knowing well what was coming. he fell into a light sleep, unable to properly relax knowing that his mate would soon be in pain.

-

jimin woke up in the early hours of the morning to his stomach churning with nausea. he groaned and rolled onto his back, a hand finding its way to his stomach. he was sweating and shivering in discomfort.

he knew the signs far too well. it seemed his heat didn’t want to wait until the morning to hit, instead choosing the dead of night.

whenever jimin felt nauseous, he began to hiccup. they were tight and uncomfortable and often trailed off into a retch. they were loud too, not tiny and adorable like his normal ones.

he rubbed his stomach, feeling it jolt with each hiccup. next to him, hoseok stirred, body naturally reacting to his mate’s distress. jimin whimpered, body begging to be comforted, knowing his mate was nearby to take care of him.

it didn’t take look for hoseok to clue into what was happening. this wasn’t the first time he had woken up to a heat-sick jimin. “my poor jiminie,” he cooed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “come on, let’s sit up, okay?”

jimin let himself be guided into a sitting position, encouraged by hoseok’s soft touches. despite being cautious, his stomach still lurched with the change of position and his mouth watered.

“hold on one second,” hoseok said before quickly exiting the nest and grabbing the nearby trash can. nobody wanted to rest in a vomit covered nest. he climbed back in and placed the trash can under jimin’s chin.

jimin curled over the trash can, panting through nausea. he could feel hoseok’s hand rubbing his back, providing some comfort against his revolting body. “i feel horrible,” jimin moaned, “ugh- my stomach…” he clutched his stomach weakly with his hands, feeling it gurgle unhappily.

hoseok kissed the back of jimin’s neck, hushing the younger gently. “it’s okay, just get it out, puppy.”

jimin took one last nervous gulp before leaning forward, stomach heaving. a loud gag echoed from the back of his throat. he coughed, then gagged again and brought up a mouthful of sick. he whimpered, barely being able to catch his breath before being thrown into a round of heaving and vomiting.

jimin spit into the bin, panting from exertion. he gave one last retch before his stomach settled back down, disrupted and aching.

he let hoseok guide him back against the pillows, body melting back into exhaustion. he watched hoseok move the trash can out of the nest and away from jimin. it was always the hardest the first time it happened during heats. the dread of repeating this scenario over and over again for the next few days made jimin tear up, frustration and discomfort bubbling in his chest.

hoseok was quick to notice jimin’s tears, the scent of their saltiness thick in the air. he sighed in sympathy, automatically moving to nuzzle jimin’s scent gland. his arms gently wrapped themselves around jimin, cocooning the omega against his body. 

“h-hobi hyung,” jimin sniffled, shaking against him, “i feel so awful.”

hoseok stroked the younger’s back, rocking him back and forth. “i know, puppy, i know. heats are never fun.” he pressed a kiss against jimin’s hair. “i’ll be right by your side the entire time. hyung is going nowhere.”

jimin sniffled loudly, a new wave of tears inspired by the warmth in his heart. he let himself be rocked back to sleep, surrounded by the warmth of his mate and comfort of his scent.

for the most part, he remained asleep, only waking up twice more to finish emptying his stomach. hoseok took care of him, letting the younger focus on resting.

it was early afternoon that he properly woke up and encountered his second symptom.

despite having puked his guts out and having struggled with an upset stomach all morning, jimin wanted food. his stomach growled, appetite having suddenly returned.

his stomach had double standards; it wanted food one second but also threw a fit when it received it.

when he was younger, jimin wasn’t as careful as to what he ate. he was more focused on getting food than on how it would feel when he inevitably vomited it back up a couple hours later. the most memorable time was when he ordered a shit ton of panda express and ended up stuck in the bathroom for five hours afterwards. he had never vomited as much as he had that day, to the point where he considered going to the hospital just to get some relief from the nausea.

jimin stirred lazily, rolling over and clinging onto hoseok’s leg. hoseok was currently typing away on his laptop, though he smiled at seeing jimin clinging onto him.

“hi puppy,” hoseok greeted, a fond smile on his face. jimin’s hair was currently sticking up in all different directions, the blonde hair soft and fluffy. he couldn’t stop himself from ruffling it up even more, earning a pout from jimin.

“i’m starving, hyung,” jimin whined, pulling out the puppy eyes. “make me food? please?”

hoseok’s hearts ached from the puppy eyes- there was no need to bring them out, hoseok was already whipped enough as it was. he closed his laptop and set it aside. “do you want to come with me? or do you want to stay in the nest?”

jimin checked with his body; he felt weak, but he honestly would prefer to be around his mate at the moment. “i’ll come with you. wanna watch you cook.”

the two got up, hoseok helping jimin get steady on his feet and wrapping the younger in a blanket. they moved to the kitchen where jimin claimed one of the barstools. he looked like a lump of a blanket with only his face and tufts of his blonde hair poking out.

“an adorable little mochi,” hoseok cooed, squishing jimin’s cheeks.

jimin pouted, but his cheeks were pink and insides warm with love.

hoseok prepared him some rice porridge. it was easy on his stomach and didn’t cause as much nausea or vomiting as heavier foods did. over two years of dating jimin, hoseok had become a master at the rice porridge.

it was a good thing too because jimin refused to eat any other kind of rice porridge.

hoseok brought the bowl over and set it down in front of jimin. however, the younger merely pouted.

“feed me hyung,” he whined. “i’m in heat.”

hoseok laughed, but obeyed and picked up the chopsticks. “you’re the biggest baby.” he brought up food to jimin’s open mouth, watching the jimin eagerly take it.

jimin smiled, cheeks round with food. he chewed happily. “‘m your baby.”

hoseok fed him another mouthful, followed by a kiss on the nose. 

once the porridge was eaten, the two moved back to jimin’s nest. jimin laid on top of hoseok, curling up and pressing his nose against hoseok’s neck. he felt warm from both the fluffy blanket covering the both of them and the body heat of hoseok.

it was moments like these that made his heat bearable.

-

it was on the third day of jimin’s heat that everything went wrong.

hoseok woke up drenched in sweat in the middle of the night. the only thing he registered was his stomach aching for food, driving him out of the nest and into the kitchen. barely awake and barely aware of what he was doing, hoseok let instinct take over as he pulled out leftovers and stuck them in a microwave. while that was going, he prepped some ramen, feeling as though the leftovers wouldn’t be enough to fill his stomach.

he stuck a packet of ramen in and the microwave pinged, catching his stomach’s attention.

hoseok stumbled across the kitchen to it, grabbing some chopsticks. as soon as the food was out, he dug in, burning his tongue. he winced but forced the food down. he felt like he hadn’t eaten in days and the only way to make up for it was by eating everything in sight.

while he ate, he worked on the ramen, eagerly waiting for it to be done as well. he was halfway through the leftovers when he determined the ramen to be finished, dishing it out into a bowl. the leftovers ended up abandoned next to the stovetop; his stomach had moved to a different target.

his mouth was full of ramen noodles when the door to the bedroom creaked open. the sounds of footsteps echoed through the hall until jimin appeared, eyes blinking sleepily and a frown etched on his face.

it was the sight of jimin that shook hoseok out of his trance. he swallowed his noodles, placing the rest of the bowl down. he looked around the room, blinking as if just seeing it for the first time.

“hyung? what are you doing?”

hoseok a couple more times, trying to figure out the situation. a twinge of pain echoed from his belly, clearly upset with having so much food forced in it so fast. “uh, i guess i got hungry?”

jimin frowned. he could smell his mate’s scent; it was more sweet than normal. “this looks like too much food for a midnight snack.” he moved forward, pressing a hand to hoseok’s forehead. his eyes widened with recognition.

hoseok still was confused as to what was going on. out of nowhere, a wave of pain jolting through his body. he pitched forward, nearly collapsing on jimin, groaning as his muscles seized up.

“shit, this is bad, really bad.” jimin struggled to hold hoseok up, still suffering with weakness from his heat. “hoseokie hyung, baby, you’re in a rut.”

hoseok whimpered, finally connecting the dots. the sudden spike in appetite, the way his muscles were on fire. his rut wasn’t due for two more weeks, however.

“it hurts,” hoseok hissed, face buried against jimin’s chest.

jimin rubbed his back. he could feel hoseok’s muscles tensing and relaxing against him. they had never been in heat and rut at the same time before; he had no idea what to do. however, he knew someone who would.

“baby, i think we need someone helping us. i’m still in heat.”

hoseok nodded in agreement. he wanted his jimin to be taken care of, and he obviously couldn’t do it in the moment.

“let’s get you to bed first, okay?” jimin coaxed the older into walking, leaving behind the mess in the kitchen. hoseok had to rely on jimin to guide him, in too much pain and confused to carry himself.

once hoseok was settled in the nest, curled up in a ball, jimin grabbed his cell phone and pulled up his friend’s contact.

it took a couple of tries before they picked up. “jiminie, it’s 4am.”

jimin sighed. “taehyung, we need help.”

-

“one delivery of jinnie hyung’s special stew for one hungry hoseokie!”

hoseok groaned, struggling to open his eyes. he was drenched in sweat and his muscles still ached, but he was a bit more aware than when he previously woke up.

he was confused as to why taehyung was in his apartment, though.

“huh?” hoseok blinked hard, looking around his surroundings he was in the living room, propped up with pillows and covered in a fluffy blanket that hoseok recognized to be taehyung’s.

“open up!” the beta cheerfully said before stuffing a spoonful of something warm in hoseok’s mouth.

hoseok struggled for a second, then swallowed, feeling the warmth travel down to his belly. before he could ask any questions, however, taehyung had already stuffed his mouth full again.

“for fuck’s sake, tae, let the poor man wake up.”

seokjin walked up behind taehyung, setting a hand on his mate’s shoulder he smiled warmly in greeting to hoseok. 

hoseok finally spoke. “what are you guys doing here? where’s jiminie?”

taehyung cooed, patting hoseok’s head. “you two are adorable. don’t worry, he’s resting in his nest right now. he had a bad vomiting session while you were passed out.”

hoseok frowned, anxiety curling in his belly. “is he okay? he’s still in heat.”

taehyung smiled. “it’s okay, hobi hyung. it’s all normal for him.”

“what you should really be worried about is the fact that you’re in a rut,” seokjin piped up behind taehyung. seokjin was an alpha too and knew that ruts out of cycles weren’t common or healthy.

hoseok sighed, letting his head fall to the side. “i know. don’t wanna go to the doctor though.”

taehyung hummed sympathetically, frowning. “you and jiminie just moved in together, right?”

“well, it’s been five months, so i guess?” hoseok shrugged.

“so this would be his third heat with you living with him.”

hoseok nodded, confused as to what taehyung was getting to.

taehyung patted hoseok’s cheek, then stuffed a spoonful of stew in his mouth. “there’s no need to go to the doctor then.” he smiled. “your cycle is just matching up with minnie’s!”

hoseok blinked, but seokjin was nodding his head, so he went along with it. he really didn’t want to go to the doctor’s anyways.

he let taehyung feed him, sinking into a state of disconnection from both the fever and confusion fogging up his head. he let taehyung press a cold press against his forehead, barely letting out a whine in protest.

“poor hyungie,” taehyung sighed, his fingers moving through hoseok’s hair. “you must really not feel good, huh.”

hoseok hummed. ruts always took the energy out of him. between the muscle cramps and the fever and the confusion, there was little he could do but lay down and wait for it to pass. 

normally jimin would cuddle him and massage his muscles, knowing how tense they got, but he knew that jimin was in no state to take care of anyone else. he still wanted to cuddle his mate, however, the longing for affection settling in his chest. 

“wanna be with minnie…” hoseok whined, shifting uncomfortably on the couch.

taehyung gently hushed him. “i know, it’s hard without your mate by your side.” he sighed. “take it slow, okay? we want to make sure you’re both okay.”

hoseok closed his eyes, letting taehyung tuck the blanket around him. the food and cold press helped a little, but there was an itch under his skin. it had been such a long time since he had spent his rut without jimin by his side. even before they were dating, jimin would hold hoseok in his lap and soothe him softly.

he found himself unable to drift off, instead distracted by the pain and need for jimin’s presence. he gave up on trying to sleep.

hoseok could hear seokjin talking with taehyung in the kitchen

he decided to disregard what taehyung had said. he gathered up his blanket and snuck over to the bedroom. the room smelled strongly of the ocean mixed with vanilla; it was distinctly jimin.

hoseok crossed the room, only hesitating when he came to the edge of the nest. “jimin?”

jimin was curled up in a small in the center of the nest, however he easily stirred when he heard hoseok’s voice. he whimpered, reaching out for his mate and inviting him in.

hoseok practically threw himself into jimin’s arms, snuggling close to his mate and feeling the discomfort disappear. he nuzzled jimin’s neck, feeling the other relax against him. 

“i missed my sunshine,” jimin whined, grip tightening on hoseok. “and i’m sorry i made your rut come early.”

hoseok was quick to dismiss jimin’s apologies. “our bodies are in sync with each other now. it’s okay, minnie.”

they settled into silence, both of them feeling run down by their own bodies. hoseok could feel his leg muscles beginning to cramp up, yet at the same time, he felt completely relaxed. he pressed butterfly kisses against jimin’s neck, relishing in the way it made jimin giggle quietly.

jimin yawned, then buried his nose in hoseok’s hair, sighing in content. it wasn’t long before he drifted off, his own symptoms having calmed down at the presence of hoseok.

hoseok lifted his head to smile at jimin’s sleeping face, heart squeezing with affection. he fell asleep not too long after, finally at ease.

-

taehyung and seokjin found the two curled up around each other, clinging on as if it was a matter of life or death. it was disgustingly adorable, according to seokjin, who said so while taking a picture of the two.

-

the weekend brought the end of jimin’s heat and the start of the end of hoseok’s rut. it was still lingering, however, making him achy and hungry.

jimin took this opportunity to absolutely spoil hoseok.

currently, hoseok was cuddled up on the couch, covered in the softest blanket and propped up against the back of the couch. jimin had put a movie on the tv and he was lazily watching it. he could hear jimin in the kitchen cooking. normally, hoseok was the one to prepare meals, but jimin had insisted on prepping something.

hoseok didn’t mind being bound to the couch. jimin was always bringing him snacks and showering him with affection. if he mentioned his muscles aching, jimin was more than willing to massage him.

hoseok smiled when he saw jimin coming into the living room, a bowl of food resting in his hands.

“ah, jiminie, i feel spoiled,” hoseok commented once he saw that jimin had made his favorites. 

jimin laughed, handing hoseok the bowl and patting his hyung’s head. “you deserve it.”

hoseok couldn’t help but blush a little, causing jimin to coo. in embarrassment, hoseok stuffed his mouth full of food. he groaned at the taste, pleased by how well jimin had made it.

jimin settled next to him, the two watching the movie quietly. hoseok quickly emptied his bowl and placed it on the coffee table before leaning back and sighing.

“i think i’ve gained some weight with how much i’ve been eating.” he rested a hand on his stomach, patting it lightly.

jimin rolled his eyes, smiling. “you say that every time, hyung.”

hoseok shrugged, resting his head against jimin’s. “our cycles are synced now, according to taehyung.”

jimin nodded. “tae told me.”

“it was only a matter of time,” hoseok mused. “we’ve always been close, after all. i’m surprised it took our bodies this long.”

jimin moved his hand to settle on top of hoseok’s, squeezing it lightly. “it’ll be a bit of an adjustment. at least our work schedules will be a bit easier now.”

hoseok was grateful for that too; his boss would appreciate him having less time off during the months. he didn’t mind having their ruts and heats lined up. if anything, it made him feel closer to jimin.

he wanted to spend all his ruts with jimin, deep down. they had only been dating a little over a year, but hoseok had loved jimin for so long before that that he couldn’t imagine a life without him.

he wasn’t ready to admit that yet, so instead he squeezed jimin’s hand back and closed his eyes. 

“we’ll learn to adjust. i’m just happy being by your side, even if you are throwing up.”

jimin elbowed him lightly at the teasing, though his heart was warm. “i know you’ll take care of me. i’ll be there to take care of you too, baby.”

hoseok let the words warm his heart and flush out the ending of his rut, leaving him content at jimin’s side. 

they would learn how to adjust to the new cycles. they were, after all, disgustingly in love.

[rt8815]

Bradbury...and Boogie-Woogie

Two years I’ve agonized over this piece. Two. Years. It’s kinda the reason I started writing this story out of order. Anyway, it’s one of those ‘filler’ chapters, I think they’re called. Not a CM Bingo piece, though I’m working on more of those atm.

Triggers: None, I think.

WC: 2,840

Before diving in, first read Let It Bleed, as it immediately precedes this one.

Bradbury…October 27, 2017

“Hey, New Girl! Welcome-welcome!” Garcia squealed happily, rolling a cart onto the sidewalk.

“Hi, Penelope. It’s great to meet you in person,” replied McKinley, lifting plastic containers off the concrete and placing them on the cart.

“You too, Kinley. Oh my gosh, you’re even cuter in the flesh. Love. Your. Hair.”

“Uh, th-thanks,” she stuttered, unsure how to take the compliment or politely ask the bubbly techie not to play with her amethyst locks. Then Garcia moved in for a hug. McKinley stepped back. “No, sorry. I’m kind of weird about hugs.”

“No need to apologize,” she insisted, pushing the dessert-laden cart through the door. Remembering their lively video chat from the other night, McKinley deduced that verbally and physically affectionate was Penelope’s natural state.

McKinley handed her ID to a grumpy man behind the front desk. “If we get to be friends, I’ll warm up to you,” she told Penelope, throwing her visitor’s badge around her neck.

Penelope’s eyes glinted mischievously. “We’ll definitely become friends. I’ve already decided. You’re a smol bean and you’re my baby now, no arguments,” she concluded as entered the elevator.

McKinley giggled. They chatted while the elevator climbed.

“So, you’ve got the hots for our Boy Genius,” Penelope mused aloud.

“What? No! No, it’s not like that.”

“Oh really, now? Doughnuts, cupcakes, a cake, and Season 10 of Doctor Who on Blu-ray, all to apologize because you accidentally grabbed a handful?”

McKinley’s face burned. “Did Agent Alvez tell you that? Son of a bitch!” she fumed, helping Penelope maneuver the cart into the hall.

“Don’t be embarrassed,” she reassured her. “These things happen.” Her lips pulled into an inquisitive smirk. “Okay, tell me - what’s he packing? We talkin’ Small Flat Rate Box, or Freight?”

McKinley’s eyes bugged behind her sunglasses. “Sweet Lord, why would you wanna know that?”

Penelope shrugged. “Reid’s always so buttoned up; however, I suspect he’s smuggling something impressive under those corduroys.”

“Yeah well, I’m not comfortable discussing that, so keep suspecting.” They rolled through the glass doors of the bullpen. “And to answer your original question: I don’t have the hots for him,” she stated simply as they came to a stop at Spencer’s desk, “and I’m not looking to date.”

“You guys are perfect for each other, though!” Penelope insisted. “You’re a lot alike. You’re both kind, nerd-funny, super smart, reserved…”

“Ha! Remember that last one when you’ve seen me drunk,” McKinley cautioned, opening the containers to check the decorations.

“Hey, it’s Twist ‘n’ Shout!”

She spun, hands on her hips, electricity crackling in her hair. Luke’s grin slipped at the death glare on her face, his coffee mug hovering midway to its destination. After a pregnant pause, McKinley responded.

“Fine, I’ll give you that one…Mocha Latte. Just know that I bite when I have to.” He raised his coffee-free hand in surrender, inching forward to inspect the desserts.

“Get away, you!” Penelope warned. “These are Spencer’s.”

Luke broke into a lopsided smile. “Oh, because of the ‘short and curlies incident’?”

McKinley thumped his arm with a stack of paper plates.

“Ouch,” he chuckled, no hint of pain in his voice.

“That was for telling people about the…awkwardness. Also, yes, it’s part apology, part ‘let’s be friends.’”

Luke raised a brow. “Friends? You got a free preview of the goods and you’re looking to be just friends?”

Her cheeks flushed. “Yes! He’s a lovely person and…I dunno. When we talked, my heart went all squishy and I knew my life would be greatly lacking without him as my friend.”

­“Okay, just remember that opportunity gropes but once, Doc.”

“Alvez, why are you casually discussing sexual misconduct in the middle of the office?” McKinley turned to see a tall brunette woman approaching. She appeared formidable but caring.

“Ah, it’s Dr. Durand! That clears things up,” she laughed, extending a hand to McKinley. “I’m Emily Prentiss, welcome to the BAU.”

McKinley offered a small, awkward wave in return. Emily smiled knowingly.

“How beautiful!” she exclaimed, eyeing the sweet treats. “The attention to detail is remarkable!”

McKinley smiled bashfully. “Thank you so mu- wait, how did you know who I am?”

Emily tore her eyes from the cake. “Well, Penny mentioned your video chat, and Luke jumped in and told us about your encounter with Spencer,” she winked, making a fondling motion with her hand. McKinley’s face flushed yet again.

“Penny spilled about your plan to surprise Spencer, and we got curious. I had her run a background check on you.”

McKinley inhaled sharply, feeling exposed.

“Em!” Penelope squeaked in disapproval. “It’s not like that, love, it’s just- ”

“Spence is like a younger brother to us,” interjected another blonde. “We’re very protective of him. He’s been through a lot, so whenever somebody new enters his life, we’re concerned about their intentions. Jennifer Jareau, by the way. Call me JJ,” she said, not forcing a handshake.

“I understand,” McKinley sighed. “Spencer has that effect on people, doesn’t he?”

She hugged the plates to her chest. “One conversation with him and you realize, ‘He’s a precious cinnamon roll and must be protected at all costs!’ I assure you, that’s my only intention, JJ: to be his friend.”

“Well, that’s certainly a good start,” an older gentleman joined the conversation, pointing at one of the containers. “Chocolate frosted doughnuts with sprinkles are his favorite. It’s a bit clichéd, but there’s truth in the adage ‘the way to a man’s heart is through his stomach.’ It follows; you’ve already had him by the b-”

“Rossi, stop! We’ve made enough jokes at her expense,” scolded a woman who introduced herself as Dr. Tara Lewis. “This looks exquisite. Do I smell coffee in the cake? Reid loves coffee.”

“Yes, and there’s plenty to share as soon as he’s had some. Where is he, anyway?”

Luke pointed outside the Bullpen. “He’s down the hall printing handouts for his seminar next month,” he said, sipping his coffee.

“He doesn’t email them?”

“Reid’s a bit of a technophobe,” explained yet another agent, Matt Simmons.

“He still insists on hard copies of case files,” added Penelope. “It broke his heart when we went totally digital.” She glanced over McKinley’s shoulder and grinned. “Speak of the Luddite devil.”

Everyone watched as Spencer staggered towards them, clutching a thick stack of papers. He stopped short when he saw the crowd milling around his desk.

Spencer smiled, confused. “McKinley? What are you doing here?”

“She comes bearing gifts, Big Brain,” Penelope winked. “Apology gifts.” The others avoided his gaze but couldn’t hide their sniggers. Then Spencer caught Luke’s eye.

“You told!” he grumbled, flinging the papers onto his desk.

“If I give y’all food, will you shut your traps about us touching each other’s fun places?”

“No.”

“Probably not.”

“Nope. Sorry, not sorry.”

“Heh, you’re new here, bean. You’ll learn.”

While they lined up to choose their treats, McKinley leaned closer to Spencer. “When does the hazing end?”

“They’ll get bored soon, but that’s when the pranking starts.” He bent forward to focus on the cake properly. “Ray Bradbury?”

“Yeah, Garcia said Halloween’s your favorite holiday, and I know you’re a voracious reader. I put two and two together and ta-da.”

“Let’s see…the lions are from “The Veldt,” and the flowers are from Dandelion Wine, but what’s this one?” he asked, pointing to a swing set and a sandbox.

“The Playground,” she replied, and they smiled at each other self-consciously.

“McKinley, did you make all of this by hand?” asked JJ, marveling at the miniature sculptures.

“Most of it, except my friend Taylor painted the lions, and the chocolate TARDISes on the cupcakes came from a mold.” She popped open another container, revealing police boxes, each wrapped with a Fourth Doctor’s scarf and set in galaxy frosting. “Oh, and I bought the Jelly Babies online.”

“Would you consider making birthday cakes? My boys would love these.”

“Sure thing,” McKinley agreed, sitting in the chair Spencer brought her.

“Sooo, Reid, what are you gonna do for Kinley?” Garcia interjected.

“She’s right, Spence,” JJ concurred, sneaking an extra cupcake. “You’re not innocent in all this.”

Behind her, Luke held two doughnuts, squeezing them suggestively and mouthing ‘honka-honka.’

McKinley scowled at him. “What’re you, twelve?” Turning to Spencer, she continued. “I’d choose a book or record shop, but you don’t owe me a thing.”

“Oh-oh-oh,” Garcia enthused. “Then after, you could watch Who together at your place. He doesn’t have a TV,” she whisper-yelled.

Shaking her head, McKinley checked her phone. “Sorry, time for me to go.”

“Nooo,” Garcia pouted. “Hang with us!”

“Tempting, but I have to meet friends at some bar named…O’Keeffe’s?”

McKinley swore Garcia’s squeal of delight broke the sound barrier.

“That’s where we’re going! We’re all gonna get smashed on pumpkin-y, fall-themed grownup drinks together! Yes!”

…And Boogie-Woogie

The team kept an eye out for McKinley at O’Keeffe’s and were surprised to hear her shout out to them from the stage. She introduced the team to her bandmates following their final set, which consisted mostly of Tom Petty songs as a memorial of sorts, though McKinley couldn’t resist adding The Rolling Stones’ “Fingerprint File” at the end.

They talked late into the night getting to know each other. McKinley sat transfixed as the team regaled her with stories about their cases, one of which revolved around what they called a Vengeful Cinderella.

“Really? With her stilettos? Yikes!” she grimaced, sipping her drink.

“Yeah, but Spence was able to bring her in quietly by playing into her fantasy, acting as Prince Charming to her Cinderella. Got down on one knee, slipped her shoe back on and everything.”

McKinley threw Spencer an appraising look.

“I can see that working. He fits the bill.”

“He also gave me a new appreciation for the original, unsanitized versions of fairy tales. See, I felt that children ought to be protected from harsh realities, but Spence explained that the tales’ intended purpose was to allow kids to safely confront their fears.”

McKinley cocked her head in thought.

“Actually, the intent of those particular versions was to punish women - through some combination of marriage, rape, bodily mutilation and or death - simply for being women, because the Brothers Grimm were a pair of angry, bitter, he-man woman-hatin’, misogynist prick bastards.”

She took a drink and drew a breath before continuing, waving her hand for emphasis.

“Meanwhile, historian Franz Xaver von Schönwerth traveled around Bavaria, transcribing the stories directly from the very people who’d kept them alive in the oral tradition: servants, peasants, laborers - many of them women - rather than reframing them within his own worldview.”

She breathed in again, oblivious to the team’s stares.

“These fairy tales had strong, independent female protagonists in leadership positions. They were the ones having adventures, slaying dragons and rescuing men! Yes, the stories’ purpose was to help children navigate life’s challenges and prepare them for the adult world,” McKinley clarified, “but not at the expense of women’s agency and autonomy.”

Her gaze shifted to Spencer, whose mouth had dropped slightly.

“Unfortunately, Grimms’ Fairy Tales garnered all the attention. Fast-forward and now we have watered down, artificially flavored, saccharine animated films teaching kids that girls are helpless and need saving, and that the boys who rescue the girls are entitled to them. It’s just one more way the film industry has contributed to toxic masculinity and rape culture. Thanks, Disney, I hate it,” she concluded.

McKinley returned to her drink for a few moments before realizing the booth had fallen silent.

“Oh boy, there are two of them now,” Emily snorted.

McKinley scrunched her face in confusion. “Two what?”

“Spence rambles too,” said JJ, in a tone that conveyed mild annoyance and embarrassment at the behavior, almost as though she were apologizing for him.

McKinley frowned at her. She had seemed nice enough in the Bullpen earlier.

“He’s gotten better about it over the years, though,” she added, patting his shoulder.

The misplaced pride grated on McKinley’s nerves.

“Asphinctersayswhat?” She deliberately slurred her words, downing the last of her drink.

“What?” asked JJ.

“Exactly,” McKinley murmured, eyes fixed on her glass.

Before JJ could ask again, Spencer spoke.

“How had I not heard of Schönwerth before?” he wondered aloud, sounding disappointed in himself.

McKinley perked up. “I can lend you my copy of The Turnip Princess if you’d like. It’s a collection of his work.”

“Yeah, definitely!” he said eagerly. “I’m always excited to learn something new.”

Luke leaned around Matt to join the exchange. “I’ll have to buy a copy myself. I read Grimm’s as a kid but I hate to think I only knew biased versions. Schönwerth’s sound much better.”

…

“I appreciate the ride home, Luke,” McKinley called from the backseat.

“Me too. Just don’t get used to hearing those words pass my gorgeous lips, Newbie.���

“No problem, happy to do it,” he answered, laughing at Garcia’s drunken antics.

Under the cranked-up radio, McKinley addressed Spencer.

“Thanks for your text that morning after the park. I’m glad you’re feeling better.”

“Thank you for insisting on the wellness check.” He paused, fiddling with his messenger bag and smiling thoughtfully. “You know what? I’m glad we met.” 

“Hey, is this the right place?” asked Luke.

McKinley peered through the window.

“6565, yeah that’s the one,” she confirmed as Luke parked.

Penelope waddled across the driveway.

“I have to see your tiny house - the outside I mean, since I already got a video tour of the inside. Guys, it. is. Adorable,” Penelope gushed.

“I thought you lived with Taylor and Jaimie,” said Spencer, pointing to the porch.

“I’m parked out back,” McKinley explained, unlocking the gate.

Penelope gasped. “I almost forgot! Can we see your baby too?”

“Absolutely! He loves meeting new people.”

Luke closed the gate behind them, carrying McKinley’s guitar. “Wait, what? You have a son?”

“Weeell, sort of…” McKinley twirled around, landing on her knees, arms spread out.

“Boogie, baby! Come to Mamma!” she bellowed.

A multicolored mass of fur burst through the door and made a blurry beeline for her, knocking her fully onto the ground.

“I missed you too, buddy!” she cried as the dog assaulted her face with kisses. Sitting up, McKinley faced him towards the group.

“Look! I brought new friends. Boogie, this is Luke, Penny, and Spencer. Guys, this is Boogie.”

“Boogie?”

“Yes, Mocha Latte, Boogie. Short for Boogie-Woogie, which comes from the Bantu phrase ‘mbuki-mvuki.’ It means ‘to dance wildly, to the point of ecstasy.’ I didn’t have a name picked out when I brought him home, but when I put my music on shuffle, the first song was John Lee Hooker’s “Boogie Chillen’.” He started shaking his butt and tapping his feet. No other name would’ve sufficed.”

He approached Luke, slowly at first, then promptly shoved his snout into the man’s crotch.

“Boogie! Manners! I raised you better than that.”

“That’s okay, I know it’s the dog version of shaking hands.” Luke knelt to give him more attention. “You’re just introducing yourself, aren’t you? Yeah. You probably smell Roxie, huh buddy.”

“You have a furbaby too?”

“Yeah, a Belgian Malinois. What’s Boogie?”

“A Border Aussie. Mom was a working Border Collie and Dad was a show Australian Shepherd. He got Mommy’s smarts and Daddy’s derpiness.”

Penelope bent over to scratch Boogie’s ears, surrendering herself to sniffs and kisses. “If you two don’t have playdates at the park, I’ll dognap them and take them there myself.”

Boogie seemed to wag his assent, shuffling over to Spencer and nosing his hand.

“N-nice doggie,” he stammered, gingerly patting Boogie’s head.

McKinley stood, swaying slightly on her way to the door. “I better grab that book while I’m thinking about it. Keep our guests entertained, buddy.”

They heard her rummaging inside, talking to herself. “You were here just the other - aha!”

She reappeared, waving a tattered paperback. “It’s dog-eared and coffee-stained,” she sighed apologetically, “but it’ll read.”

“Well-worn is high praise for a book. It shows how much it’s been loved,” Spencer reasoned, climbing the stairs to the small porch. 

“Take your time with it. Some things aren’t meant for speed-Reiding,” she joked, handing him the book.

A comfortable silence settled between them for a minute.

“The swing set on the cake is an inedible figurine, by the way. That night, sitting on the real swing…I dunno, it seemed to comfort you. Now you have one to keep on your desk.”

McKinley couldn’t decide if ‘impressed’ or ‘perturbed’ better described Spencer’s expression in that moment.

“It’s late, guys. We should head out,” Luke yawned, handing McKinley her guitar.

“Night-night, Lovely! We’re having that knitting bee at my place next weekend, just us.”

“Sounds great, Penny, but I’m nervous about knitting in the round. It’s intimidating.”

They waved their goodbyes as they returned to the gate. “Don’t worry, Auntie Penelope will teach you all she knows.”

McKinley retreated into the warmth of her home. She climbed into bed, beaming to herself.

“A whole new group of friends. Imagine that, Boogie! I’d only dared hope for one…”

—

“There are no faster or firmer friendships than those between people who love the same books.”Irving Stone

@illegalcerebral @dreatine @cynbx

Others let me know if you’d like to be tagged.

[oohfluffy]

DDND Ch.6 | KJI

Group: EXO

Member: Kim Jongin

Theme: Fluff | Dancer!AU | Dormmmate!AU

Word Count: 2,889

❀Chapter 6: A Trick or A Treat? ❀

"EH?!"

"Yes, my love. We're gonna have a maid and butler café for Halloween."

You blinked as Joohyuk grins at you.

"I can't believe this!" Tiffany shrieked as she stomps her feet.

"You're annoyed too, unni--" Tiffany cuts you off with a pout.

"Why didn't they tell us sooner? I could've rented something cuter than the costume they bought."

You face-palmed yourself with a sigh.

"Can I see the costume?" You asked politely at your manager, Jongdae, the brother of Minseok, as he was passing by the counter.

He smiled at you and you feel like melting.

"So cute."

"Please wait for a second, I'll get it for you." Jongdae said as he took off back to the office.

After a few seconds, he came back with a black suit cover. He gently pushed it towards you.

"Here's one of the maid outfits you'll be wearing. I hope you like it."

You nodded with a sheepish smile and took the suit cover. You felt your friends look over your shoulders with an excited aura raging out of them.

You slowly opened the zipper and prayed that the costume won't be too revealing.

"Ooh! I'm so excited! Will it be like the ones in animes?! Kyah!" Tiffany said as she giggled behind you.

"Can you stop?" Joohyuk chuckled.

You finally shrugged the outfit off of the cover. Your eyes shined like diamonds in awe.

"Daebak." You mumbled.

"What? Is it okay? Does it look appealing?" Jongdae interrogated you as he observed all your reactions.

"This is AMAZING, manager-nim!" Tiffany shouted as she jumped up and down like a child.

"This will definitely suit you, Lin! Hahaha! Can't wait to see you in this!" Joohyuk laughed as he sees you in shock.

"Bring it on, buddy."

The maid costume is not that bad. It is not totally a dress since you have white long-sleeved polo inside, a black cloth skirt-jumper for the outside that ends above the knee and a cute red bow on the collar. It wasn't that revealing as you prayed but the fabric of the jumper seems the type that shows off your figure.

If you'll rate it, it'll be 8/10.

"Well, goodluck tonight, my crew!" Jongdae said with his cat smile as he walked back to the office with the costume.

"Okay guys. Let's get back to work!"

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

It's already 5:30 in the afternoon and you were all preparing for tonight. The café was closed earlier at 3:00pm for the transformation of the place from the cute and warm café to the scary and thrilling café. It was a nice idea from Jongdae though.

"Are you all done with the costume?" Asked by your head pastry chef, Dara.

"Yes!" All of you answered. Dara looked at all of you with a grin.

"Then it's time for the make-up transformation!"

"W-what? What make-up?" You asked nervously at her. Dara spotted you and pointed at you.

"Let's start with you, darling Lin!"

"Wait! What does--"

"I'm gonna make you a very horrifyingly gorgeous vampire maid!"

"EH?!"

After that, all you heard was Joohyuk's and Tiffany's evil laughs.

It was truly Halloween. Everyone was a monster.

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

"Dude, why are we coming here again?" Kai asked Sehun as they walked towards the MinBaozi Café.

"Noona texted me to come. They actually have halloween surprises for costumers. I was curious too." Sehun replied as he reached for the glass door of the café.

"This is news for me. Was it about curiosity only or because you want to see my--" Kai was cut off by a scream that made him step back.

"Shit. What was that, man?!" Kai shouted as he pushed Sehun. Sehun just laughed as he sees the café full of ghosts decorations.

"It was a surprise, dude. I'm glad one of us got surprised." Sehun says as he went to the counter to order. Kai gulped as he hurriedly followed Sehun like a lost puppy.

"What do you want to order, sir?" A hoarse voice of a dead butler (Joohyuk in his costume as a butler) asked. Sehun bit his lip as he scanned the menu at the top but then looked back at Kai.

"Order for me, hyung. I'll greet my sister." Sehun said as he hands his wallet to Kai and quickly went away.

"Yah! Oh Sehun! Dude! Aish seriously." Kai called hopelessly and faced the dead butler.

"I'll order Cappuccino and Oreo Latte with 2 slices of oreo cheesecake." Kai ordered as he fished out money from Sehun's wallet.

"Was he really that excited to greet his sister?" Kai muttered irritatedly as he took the order number and sat grumpily on the chair beside the window.

Sehun got a text from Tiffany saying, "Let's meet at the kitchen, Lin will come too!".

Knowing you're with his sister, he easily went to the kitchen with Dara's consent.

"Thank you, noona." Sehun bowed and continued his way to the kitchen. Dara just smiled mysteriously at him. (Idk if theres one)

The kitchen was dim lit but that didn't stop him seeing the silhouettes of 2 persons on the corner.

"Noona? Lin?" Sehun asked hesitantly as he walked towards them. The 2 silhouettes didn't move but their heads were slowly turning to him in a creepy way. Sehun's eyes widened as he backed away but stopped.

"Is this the surprise you're saying, noona? Okay, I'm surprised. Be thankful that I came--"

"Dongsaeng! You came!" Sehun heard Tiffany on the door and turned to her. Tiffany was wearing the maid outfit with blood all over her clothes and face but her hair was still in their curly state as usual.

"W-why are you there?" Sehun stuttered saying as he looked back at the corner, ready to point where they were supposed to be.

But there was no one on the corner.

"What? I was on the locker area after I got your text. I told you we'll be meeting here, right?" Tiffany said as she opened her phone and started texting.

"I-I thought you were already here since I saw 2 persons here earlier. But..." Sehun looked back again. "... they're gone."

"What are you saying? Come on. Lin's waiting at the counter." Tiffany said as she turned her back and walked out. Sehun quickly went after her not before looking around like a confused dog.

"Who the hell was that?" He mumbled as he closed the door.

"FUCK!"

Sehun's ears caught Kai's shout as he went towards the counter to meet you. His eyes travelled to the guy who stood up and strolled towards him.

"What was that, dude? That was so not cool." Sehun chuckled as he waved at you. He didn't know if it was you or not, but he just felt it.

"There was a freaking hand beside mine, dude!" Kai complained like a kid.

"Why didn't you hold it then?" Sehun joked.

"It has no arm, dude! Just a cut hand! It was so cold!" Kai stomped his feet like a kid, again.

"Oh. I feel bad for you." Sehun blankly said.

"I'll find a seat with no creepy hands around." Kai said and started walking but stopped when he remembered greeting you. His eyes searched for you and found a maid cleaning the counters.

Kai walked towards you and stopped in front of you.

"Yah, Kai-" Sehun interrupted but got cut off by Kai.

"Lin, we see each other again." Kai greeted you with a smirk. You grinned, your fake fangs showing, and turned to him. His eyes widened at the sight of you.

"She's so freaking breathtaking." Kai thought as his eyes travelled your wild dark eyes, red lips with a fake drops of blood on your chin, fangs and your sexy maid outfit that hugged your curves perfectly.

"Hi, Kai-ssi."

"You look great, Lin." Sehun smiled as he took in your appearance, moving closer to where Kai was to get a closer look at you. You really looked like a vampire princess rather than a maid.

"Thanks, Sehun. I hope you enjoyed our surprises for you two." You grinned and gave them candies stocked in a cute little pumpkin on the counter.

Kai took them and inspected them like they have a micro-bomb inside.

"Surprises?"

"Yeah. Did you like it, Sehun?"

"Surpri- HOLY SHEET. I thought I was really seeing ghosts!" Sehun said in relief. You laughed at his face.

"They were only my other crew members who agreed to that. Don't worry, I'll never fool you again." You said with a smile as you looked towards Sehun.

"Thank you, vamp princess." Sehun replied with fake formality as he bowed to you. You giggled as you threw a candy at him.

"Another nickname for me, huh?"

You turned to Kai, your smile turning into a frown. Kai looked so down as he put the candies on his pockets.

"Didn't you like it, Kai?" You asked, concerned at why does he look so sad and grumpy.

"No. I really don't like it." Kai said then walked out of the café. You looked at Sehun, asking why was Kai like that.

"I don't know. Maybe because I left him earlier? Or because of the hand? I'll ask him later. I'll just get our orders and run after that guy. We'll be back!" Sehun said as he went back to the cashier and get their orders before walking out of the door to find Kai.

"What was that, buddy?"

You almost jumped in fright as Joohyuk whispered at you.

"I really don't know. Kai walked out. He really looked upset though." You bit your lip in worry.

"Why are you even worrying about him? I thought you didn't like that devil?"

"Yeah but he's still a friend." You pouted.

"Ooh. A friend~ Maybe he got jealous since you and Sehun were like lovey-dovey earlier. I was watching~" Joohyuk said and walked back to the cashier.

"Jealous? As if." You muttered as you continued cleaning the counter.

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

"What's up, dude?"

Sehun sat beside Kai on the side walk as his best friend stayed silent.

"Nothing."

"Yeah that will convince me, son."

"Shut up."

Sehun sighed as he scratched the nape of his neck.

"Tell me you're not jealous of me."

"I am." Kai firmly said. Sehun looked at him as if his best friend was crazy.

"What? That was--"

"You know how sensitive I am when it comes to what's mine, right?"

Kai reach out his hand towards Sehun.

"My food, bro."

Sehun chuckled as he pushed Kai's order to him. Kai smirked and took a sip on his latte.

"You almost gave me a heart attack, Kai. I won't hit on your girlfriend, dude. Trust me." Sehun said with no uncertainty in his voice. Kai looked at him and nodded.

"If you do though, expect your apartment on fire." Kai threatened seriously.

"So funny, dude." Sehun rolled his eyes.

"Hey! I was trying to be serious even just for a while!" Kai whined at his younger companion like his the younger one. Sehun shrugged, but his lips curling into a smile.

"Come on, your vampire princess is waiting with my crazy vampire sister." Sehun stood up, followed by Kai.

"Yep. Her vampire prince is coming!" Kai said with a smile.

Sehun laughed at him and continued walking back towards the café.

But as he turned his back on his best friend, he can feel his smile faltering and melting like ice.

"Why do I feel like taking back my promise?"

♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫ ❧ ♫

"Thank you, everyone for the hard work! Happy Halloween!"

You all started cleaning the café as you closed the place. Sehun and Kai were waiting outside.

"So, did Kai tell you anything earlier?" Joohyuk asked as he pulled the chairs together. You shook your head and continued sweeping the floor.

"No he didn't. He just said that we'll go home together. I don't know what is his problem and I don't intend to know it."

"I bet." Joohyuk replied sarcastically. You just rolled your eyes and dusted your pants. You changed your outfit from your costume back to your normal clothes and washed your face earlier before cleaning up.

"I'll lock the place up, guys. I can see two bodyguards impatiently walking bak and forth outside." Jongdae said as he picked the keys on the counter. You looked at him and waved your hands.

"No, no, it's really okay--"

"THANK YOU, MANAGER-NIM!" Tiffany squealed in delight as she finished wiping the windows and bowed in gratitude to Jongdae, who's chuckling.

"It's nothing. I know you're all exhausted and deserves a nice sleep. See you guys tomorrow!"

You went back to the locker area and put back the cleaning materials. You got your bag with Tiffany and went out. Joohyuk was already outside talking to the other 2 guys.

"What is the real deal between you and Jongin?" Tiffany suddenly asked as you two were walking to the door.

"There's no deal, unnie."

"Yeah like I'll believe that when he totally claimed himself as your boyfriend?" Tiffany said in a 'duh' voice.

"You said it. He was a self-proclaimed boyfriend."

You pushed the glass door open and looked at the boys.

"Let's all go home now!" Tiffany said as she hugged you before going to her brother.

"Goodnight, vampire princess~" Sehun said without looking at you as he went to his car with his sister. You waved at them as the black car, you've always admired--

"H-HYUK! My dream car..."

"Yeah, it's Sehun's."

You pouted as the window went down and you saw Tiffany waving at you as they passed by the three of you left. You waved back still with a pout.

"Tss. Sulking because of a car?"

You rolled your eyes at the familiar deep and annoying voice and started walking.

"Joohyuk, will you be going home with us?" You asked your best friend as you stopped on a stop light.

"I'll be stopping over at the drugstore to buy my mom's medicine. She's been getting too many body aches this week." Joohyuk replied.

"Oh. Isn't that on the other street? I'll come--"

"It's okay, I can go by myself. And you can still catch up before your gate gets locked. It's only 10 minutes before 9." Joohyuk said, winking at you.

"Ah okay then."

As Joohyuk finally left, the two of you were left in silence. Your breathings were the only sounds you can hear. You grabbed the opportunity to ask Kai about earlier.

"Kai, why--"

Your cheeks reddened at the sudden warmth you felt around your hand. His fingers wrapped gently around yours, perfectly giving your cold hand warmth. You saw Kai on your peripheral view, smiling to himself.

"Y-yah. Why are you holding my hand?" You tried to tug away your hand but his grip was like a steel, not hurting you but like he never wanted to let go.

"I'd be happier if this is the cold hand you made me hold earlier at the café."

If your cheeks can get any redder, it already did. You feel like exploding like a bubble.

Kai suddenly stopped when you got to your dorm. You looked at him, not that surprised to find that he was already staring at you.

He was looking into your eyes like he's uncovering every chapters of your life and reading them like he wanted to know everything about you. He stared into the windows of your soul.

Slowly, his eyes went downwards until they stopped on your still reddish plump lips.

Your eyes widened, recognizing this scene in many K-dramas you've watched in your life.

"I really like your lips."

Kai leaned towards you until your noses touch. You kept your eyes opened as his stayed glued on your lips.

"Oh my ghad what do to?!" You thought as your braincells were probably running around your brain, barely functioning.

"It makes me want to claim it as mine."

You opened your mouth to speak but you can't seem to form appropriate words to scold him.

"Will you give me a trick? Or a treat?" Kai whispered seductively as his eyes went back to your own. You just felt yourself gulping.

"Do you two have any intentions of sleeping outside? I can't--"

You snapped your head towards the loud voice at the gate and saw your aunt with her mouth forming an 'o'. Your cheeks burned again as if you were slapped numerous of times today.

"Oops. Was I interrupting something?" She innocently asked as she struggled stopping her smile to appear.

You quickly moved away from Kai's hold and walked inside the house as calmly as possible or you'll surely make a fool out of yourself.

"Sorry to break your moment, Kai-ssi. I didn't know you like my niece." Your aunt giggled as she locked the gate after Kai got in. Kai chuckled as he put his shoes back on the rack.

"I was glad you appeared tho. I swear I would've gotten a big bruise on my stomach if I continued."

Your aunt laughed.

"You know my niece well, Kai."

—

❀ Ch.7