#ah yes- the dapper head secretary

[askblueandviolet]

Can I ask Aigou something? If so then...

You finally meet "the needy lunch date". What do you think about Macaque? Do you approve? Do you think he's the one for mayor? Will Public Relations do anything about it?

[lu-undy]

New Sniper/Spy short - Perle’s hairy situation

"Perle is acting weird, coughing and wheezing which is completely out of character for her. She's also being dramatic about it. Lu and Mundy are concerned and they start bickering about what to do with Perle. Turns out its just a hairball stuck in Perle's throat and she's fine after that, even goes on to steal a sock :3"

"Meeo-eh." 

Spy looked down at his lap. He was reading his Dapper Cadaver with Sniper's head leaning on his shoulder, reading with him when Perle coughed mid-meow. 

Perle was originally Spy's best friend, a lady cat of a breed that was way too expensive for the common mortals. And yet Spy didn't have to pay a penny for that fluffy white feline with lagoon blue eyes. She was a stray that had clung to him on a cloudy and dark night years ago now in Paris. He took care of her and then, when times were hard, she took care of him.

But that was all way before Spy finally found what he didn't know he could.

"Sniper?" 

"Hm?" 

"Did you hear her?"

"Yeah. She's been doing that since this morning. I thought it would go away but no… She's been coughin' and wheezing like that all day long."

"She didn't eat much either." Spy added as he scratched her head. Perle was lying on his lap.

"What's wrong with you, pretty cat, eh?" Sniper scratched her back.

She coughed and this time it sounded like she couldn't stop. 

"Mon Dieu…" 

She jumped down out of their lap and walked away, her gait unusually heavy and her head low as she breathed heavily and with difficulty. 

"If you want, we can take her to a vet or somethin', she really scares me now. Listen to her breathe…"

"Oui, it is worrying me too. Can you drive us to town?" Spy turned to Sniper. 

"O'course. Don't want her to stay sick."

Spy looked down at Perle.

"Perle, come here, ma belle." 

[My beautiful one]

Perle turned to Spy, she took a few steps and collapsed. 

"Perle?!" Spy rushed at her, on his knees. Her eyes were almost completely closed. 

Sniper had jumped out of the sofa and grabbed his vest with his keys, his hat and his glasses. 

"Grab her and come to the van, I'll start it." 

"Oui." 

Spy scooped her off the floor and carried her like a baby in his arms. 

"Perle, Perle, s'il te plaît ma chérie, reste avec moi, ma petite chatte chérie, s'il te plaît…" Spy said as he ran to Sniper's van, on Sniper's heels. 

[Perle, Perle, please my darling, stay with me, my little kitty please…]

They hopped in the van and Sniper didn't wait for either of them to fasten their seatbelts to floor it. 

Spy talked to Perle continuously. He petted her head slowly while her eyes slowly opened and closed.

"Sniper, y-you know things about animals, do you think she will make it? She is very unresponsive…"

"I-I don't know… I know basics about beasts and things, but I'm no vet." Sniper wiped the sweat off his brow with the back of his hand. "Look love, I'm here with you and I'm pushin' the van over the speed limits to save her." Sniper took Spy's hand in his after he switched gears for the fifth one. 

"Lu', listen, we won't let her go. Pretty cat, Pearl, listen, luv', you'll be alright, you just wait, alright? We'll get you to a doc' and you'll be fine, ok? Pearl, listen, luv', hang on!"

Lucien's hand squeezed Mundy's tighter and they looked at each other with fear and despair in their eyes. 

"It'll be alright, luv'. Don't worry, she's still young and has loads to live still, ok? Lu', you hear me?!" 

"O-oui, oui, Mundy… I… I don't want to lose her… She's everything…"

"You won't lose her, I promise we'll do everything it takes to get her to be fine, ok? Lu', I'll do anything for her, you hear me?"

Lucien nodded and Mundy rolled his window down to let some fresh air in. Lucien's silky hair flew under the fast wind and that's when he realised it: in his rush, he had forgotten to take a mask with him… 

He didn't care in front of Mundy but he hated for people to see his face. He bit his lip. Bah, Perle's life was infinitely more valuable than his privacy! 

"Look, the city!" Mundy shouted as he pointed in front of them. "Now you gotta look in the glovebox, Lu'. There should be a map, unfold it and tell me where the nearest vet is." 

"Oui." Lucien didn't lose a second. He held Perle like a baby against his chest and shoulder with his left hand while he did as he was told with his right hand. "Uhm… Let me see… Ah! Turn right now. Oui… Now go straight, very good… Take it left as soon as you can. Voilà, there should be one in this street." Lucien raised his head off the map and looked around. 

"There it is! I see it. I'll drop you and deal with the van, you rush in, ok? I'll catch up with you in a second, love." Mundy stopped the van right in front of the vet clinic. "Now, go!"

Lucien turned to his lover and pushed his lips on his. 

"Come and join me as soon as you can, please, mon amour."

[My love.]

"I will, love, now go, please." 

Lucien nodded and opened the van's door before rushing in the vet's. Mundy drove for a bit longer before finding wherever he could park the van. As soon as he did, he slipped out of it and ran back to the clinic. 

He entered and saw a lady who no doubt was a secretary of some sort. 

"Hello, Sir. How may I help? Do you have an appointment?"

"N-no, not really, my best friend came in about a minute ago. He was carrying a fluffy white cat in his arms and-"

"Ah, yes, the emergency? They are with the vet right now."

Mundy's heart didn't stop pumping hard and fast. 

"Where are they?" He almost shouted and the people in the waiting room, that he hadn't cared about so far, jumped on their chairs out of fear.

"Second door to the right in the corridor." The secretary was scared too but Mundy didn't have time to apologise.

He darted to the right door and knocked without being told to come in to push. 

"Lu'?!"

Mundy saw his lover standing, his arms wrapped around himself, biting his nail on his thumb. Perle was on the vet's table and he was examining her. He looked at Mundy and frowned.

"Sir, I'm sorry but-" 

"Non, it is fine, Docteur," Spy cut him, "He is my partner, he was busy parking the car while I rushed in."

"Oh…" 

Mundy shut the door after and stood next to Lucien, wrapping an arm around him to hold him close. 

"So, do we know if she's going to be alright?" Mundy asked. 

"I am still examining her. So far, there is nothing alarming…" The vet answered. "How long has she been like this?" 

"It all started today. I would say we noticed something was odd since the early afternoon. Perle coughed and wheezed quite badly. It sounded like she had asthma, if such a thing exists for cats." Lucien explained. "But it was only about an hour ago that she collapsed and that's what prompted us to drive her here as fast as we could. We live quite far so it took us a while."

"I see…" The vet opened Perle's mouth and lit a small light. "Oh, what is that…? Ah, I think I know what is wrong with her."

Lucien and Mundy both tensed up. 

"Let me try something…" The vet went to fetch a vial. He opened it and put it right in front of Perle's nose. Her eyes snapped open and she stood on her feet in a flash, coughing again and again. "There we go, come on, get it out…!" The vet put the vial on the table and massaged her chest repeatedly as she coughed more until-

"Ah! There we go!" He exclaimed triumphant when she spat out a ball of white hair. "It was only a clump of hair stuck in her throat, nothing to worry about." He explained as he petted Perle who sat down and wrapped her fluffy tail around her as if she hadn't looked like she was on the verge of dying a moment ago. 

"What?" Mundy asked. "But it sounded like she couldn't even breathe?" 

"You own one very dramatic cat, she could breathe without any difficulty." 

Lucien and Mundy looked at each other with question marks in their eyes. 

"Meow?" 

"I have rarely seen a cat put on such a scene." The vet continued with a smile. "Although I must say it does happen sometimes, when she wants a bit more attention. And given the size of that ball of fur, she would have needed help to get it out anyway."

"That's just too much," Mundy answered "We really thought we'd lose her!"

"Is one of you an actor by any chance?" The vet asked. "It has been observed a few times that cats would mimick a behaviour the have seen on their master."

"N-non, none of us are." Lucien answered and Mundy looked at him shaking his head with a smile. 

A bit later, Lucien, Mundy and Perle were back in the van. 

"Such a drama queen you are, I swear!" Mundy said as he started the van.

"Oui, that is hardly acceptable, Perle! You had Papa Mundy drive over all the speed limits for you and for what? A tantrum!"

"Meow!"

"Don't talk back, Mademoiselle!"

[Young lady]

"If you need us to help you do something or bring you to the vet, you don't need to be that dramatic about it." Mundy added.

"Meow?"

"No buts, luv', you really got us scared for you! You heard us and saw us! We thought we'd lose you!"

"Meeow…" Perle lowered her head and laid down on Lucien's lap, curling into one ball of fur herself. 

"We shall accept your apologies only if you promise to not do that again." He added. 

"Promise?" Mundy asked. 

"Meow!" She answered.

"Good, good girl." Mundy patted her head gently and as he did, she grabbed his fingers in her paws and brought them closer to herself, as if she was hugging them. "You're like Lu' in the end."

"What?!" Lucien got surprised.

"All about drama." Mundy teased. 

"I don't react like that!" 

"You just don't see yourself." 

"Mundy!" 

"What?" Mundy turned his head. "I'm just kidding, love. Don't be that dramatic about it." He winked at Lucien. 

"I'll show you drama when we get home!" 

"Oh…" Mundy sounded disappointed and Lucien heard it. He raised an eyebrow. 

"What?" 

"I had hoped you'd show me something else…" Mundy's hand slithered from Perle to Lucien's thigh. 

Lucien sighed with a smile. 

"Will you ever change, Mundy?" 

"Never." 

They chuckled.

"Lu'?" 

"Hm?" Lucien's eyes turned and connected with Mundy. "Love you."

"I love you too, Mundy." Lucien put his hand on top of Mundy's, on his thigh. “Hey, Perle, give it back!”

“What did she do?”

“She stole one of my gloves!” Lucien answered and saw Perle play with it between her paws.

“Well at least we’re sure she’s alright, eh.”

They drove much more reasonably on their way back. However, Lucien and Mundy spent their night all but reasonably.

[halftwinmoon]

Little Red Riding Hood: Gakuen Babysitters Edition, Part 2

Part 1

For a toddler with itty bitty jelly bean legs, Kotarō moves quite quickly, which doesn’t help the red-haired older brother figure out why he went on his own while chasing him. Ryūichi has a tendency to worry about his green-haired baby brother, which only worsens his apprehensiveness. If only Usaida was there to help him, as the pink-haired sleepy caretaker has quite the intuition in figuring out children’s thoughts and actions. Saikawa, the Chairwoman, the Chairwoman’s son, and Yukari mentored him in childcare and how to be teacher during the earlier days of the daycare center, in which Usaida then internalizes many of their advice and studies them with his own “How to be a Teacher” study notes every night, which does mostly explain his default sleepiness. This hidden secret is quite hilarious considering that one time while Kotarō stayed with him as Ryūichi went off to his school exhibition trip, Usaida didn’t want Kotarō to find his study notes even though the naïve toddler stumbled upon his more... mature materials to then look at his teacher manuals.

Kotarō stops near a certain double door, in which Ryūichi finally catches up to him and notices where the pathway that the two went leads to. “Huh? This is kitchen. What were you planning to do, Kotarō?” Ryūichi noted. “Oh, Ryūichi-sama and Kotarō-sama. Superb timing. I was just going to inform you that lunch is ready,” Saikawa says while walking to the Kashima brothers down the hallway. “Sa-cha! Shaggy!” the toddler says while noticing the rather fluffy gray blanket that is neatly folded under the dapper blond’s arms. “Ah, yes Kotarō-sama. How very observant of you, as usual. This is a cotton fleece blanket that Usaida-sama made for the Chairwoman. I was just finishing drying this after washing it,” Saikawa notes while unfolding the blanket to show the collaborative project. Usaida-san made that? I know that he made the vegetable costumes for the kids and me during our school culture festival, but I never knew how artistic he can be. Ryūichi mentally noted.

The blanket already looked luxurious enough that it almost look like it was made of silk... until the Kashima brothers noticed Saikawa’s touch: graphic of Ryūichi, Kotarō, Saikawa, and Yōko that was seemed to be made with cross-stitching. The style being much like the time Saikawa drew Ryūichi on a yellow ball when he was “playing” with Kotarō, who still keeps it in his toy box. Wow that’s... impressive. I guess he became a lot more productive since quarantine? Ryūichi thought while sweat-dropping in embarrassment and also touched by the symbolic implications that the four were indeed a family: a new family that he sometimes wished that his and his brother’s parents met each other before the plane incident, but now visit their respective graves including the Chairwoman’s son and wife as often and as safely as possible.

“Oh, thank you Saikawa-san,” Ryūichi responds while bringing back to the topic. “Actually Kotarō was planning to do something in the kitchen, but I’m not sure what he’s thinking...” One glance exchange between the green olive-haired toddler and the hybrid butler/secretary with Kotarō claiming “Ba-cha get-well-giff!” was all the info Saikawa needed. “I see now. How thoughtful of you. You plan on making something for the Chairwoman as a get-well-gift, correct?” “Ung!” he answered with his default way of communicating of head nods, which was becoming endearing to everyone and even strangers before the pandemic. “Lemo-cha!”

Oh so that’s what he meant. He’s so sweet and considerate. Just like the time I was sick and he, Obaa-san, and Saikawa-san nursed me back to health with Kotarō’s lemon tea– No! I can’t start crying now. I should help him. Ryūichi mentally says while also taking part of Kotarō determination... until suddenly *growls* “Eh? Umm...” Ryūichi mumbles with a growing blush. *growls* “Ung...” Kotarō mirrors in surprise while putting one tiny hands on his tummy while still holding the picture book close to his body. Since the hallway was very clean and not full of decorations, hearing the brothers’ stomach growls was easily detectable. With a light chuckle, Saikawa says, “Well we shouldn’t keep tarrying on then, should we? Please head on to the dining room so that I can serve you lunch.” as he bows and heads to the kitchen.

“How about we eat lunch first? Can’t help nurse others when we can’t take care of ourselves, can we? Obaa-san would for sure not approve of that.” The older Kashima brother suggests to the little one. “Ung~!” Kotaro replies. As they enter the dining room and taken their seats, with Ryūichi putting Kotarō in his seat booster while taking off the red makeshift hood – Saikawa enters with lunch that includes lightly-salted grilled mackerel – deboned with pristine precision that rivals master sushi chefs – with rice, miso soup, and kinpira gobo, scaled to the appropriate serving sizes for all three of them. “Thank you for the food,” Ryūichi thanks with clapped hands while Kotarō mirrors and says, “T’ank for food.” As usual, Saikawa’s cooking is superb and then both brothers give their respects to the man. “I am always honored to serve you two. Speaking of which, have you finished reading ‘Little Red Riding Hood’? I am going to give the Chairwoman her meal, which is a simple rice porridge made with chicken, ginger, ginseng, and leeks after I have collected your dishes,” Saikawa noted while observing that the picture book was besides Kotarō’s dishes. 

“Oh no it’s fine, we’ll put away our dishes won’t we? And we’ll continue where we left off.” Ryūichi reassures while turning to Kotaro, in which the toddlers nods with his usual grunt. “Very well then. Please do continue to enjoy reading.” Saikawa bids them off to then deliver the Chairwoman’s meal. Ryūichi collected both of his and Kotarō’s dishes to then head to the kitchen sink, in which he wash, scrubbed, and rinsed the dishes while handling them to Kotarō to dry with clean towels (with some assistance to make sure the little one didn’t accidentally drop it).

“Alright then, how about we continue reading ‘Little Red Riding Hood’, Kotarō?” the older Kashima brother suggests. “Ung~!” is Kotarō’s expected happy response. The duo heads back to their room and resume reading together. However, will learn later on how this book decides to tell this version of ‘Little Red Riding Hood‘...

To be continued

[myforeverforlife]

would you be my love?

Last request for another anon! Minseok + 4. "Did you just hiss at me?" - "Are you judging me?

Word Count: 2,079

CBX Detectives Masterlist: (Minseok)  (Baekhyun)  (Jongdae)

Masterlist

“CBX Investigations, how may I help you?”

The woman on the other end of the phone launched into a spiel about a boss that she suspected of cheating her out of her wages, voice much too loud for your ears. You winced, moving the phone further away from your ear and reaching for a pen and notepad.

“Just a second, please.” You quickly scribbled down the few details you remembered. “Policy does require me to remind you that our detectives work on an hourly fee.”

“Well how much is it?” the woman snapped.

“Judging on how much information you need, it will vary.”

“I need my money, and I need that leech’s reputation down the drain!”

You continued to question her about her boss, getting the story and her request straightened out before hanging up with a sigh of relief. Sadly, in the crime-sleuthing industry, there was rarely any time for rest. Your fingers ran over the keys of your typewriter as you began working on a formal request for your supervisors. The three of them might act more like children than grown men at times, but they were still sticklers for organization.

“Another assignment already, Miss Y/N?”

You glanced behind you to see Private Investigator Kim Minseok sipping from his cup of coffee as he leaned against a filing cabinet. Every day, you thanked your lucky stars that office dress code required all of you to be dressed formally. Minseok was always dashingly dapper in his three piece suits, and today was no different. The other two detectives liked to tease him about overdressing for the occasion, but you didn’t mind, especially when it gave you lots of material for daydreaming.

Minseok called your name when you didn’t answer, jolting you back to the present.

“Ah. Yes, it’s another disgruntled factory worker,” you explained lamely, clearing your throat and trying to calm the butterflies in your stomach. You gave him the basic rundown of your conversation.

The investigator shook his head, taking a longer sip of coffee before replying. “It’s getting worse and worse. I’ll look over the report when you’re done typing it up. Hopefully, I can head over and have a talk with the woman this afternoon.”

You nodded, about to turn back to the typewriter when Minseok cleared his throat. “Yes?” you asked tentatively, hoping that you hadn’t misheard him.

Minseok’s cheeks were a rosy pink, much like the flowers that bloomed down the street from your apartment in early spring. “Are you staying late tonight?”

“Yes, I still have to go over some paperwork with Mr. Byun. He’s trying to finish up the 5th Street investigation.”

“Ah. Would you like to get supper with the rest of us after I come back? If it’s not too late for you,” he added quickly, looking apologetic.

“I-I’ll have to phone home and see if I can. I’ll let you know in a bit.”

Minseok had forgotten that you still lived at home, customary of most single women in this day and age. Surely your family would worry if you were out late, especially in a city this big. “Of course. Take your time.”

He let out a puff of relief, half nervous and yet half excited for tonight. Minseok walked over to Baekhyun’s workspace, half-hidden from your spot at the front desk. “Baekhyun,” he whispered, garnering the younger’s attention.

“I know, I still owe you money for paying for my trolley ticket last week,” Baekhyun mumbled, engrossed in his work.

The sound of a chair scooting against the floor interrupted Minseok, and he looked over to see you heading for the ladies room. He waited a couple of seconds before speaking again. “No, not that. I need you and Jongdae to come to supper with me and Miss Y/N tonight.”

Baekhyun sat up, letting his fountain pen drop to the table as he studied Minseok. “Why? What’s the special occasion?” he asked skeptically.

“Nothing, I just... I finally took what you two said into consideration and asked her to spend a night out with me.”

Baekhyun’s face lit up, toothy grin appearing on his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Kim Minseok, I’m surprised. Who knew you had it in you? But wait,” Baekhyun raised an eyebrow in thought. “Why do you need me and Jongdae there?”

“So I don’t make a complete fool of myself!”

“Ah, but don’t you want your dear lady friend to see you get all flustered?” Baekhyun chuckled. “Sorry, Minseok. This is all on you tonight.”

“Baekhyun, please. What am I going to do without you two there?”

“That’s the whole point, my friend.” Baekhyun clapped a hand onto Minseok’s shoulder, rubbing it in sympathy. “How else are you supposed to woo our capable secretary?”

“You make me sound like a predator,” Minseok said sullenly.

“No, you’re much too innocent for that.” Baekhyun laughed as he pinched Minseok’s cheek, not caring that his business partner was staring daggers at him.

“Let go, Baekhyun,” Minseok grumbled, hissing under his breath as Baekhyun pulled harder before finally letting go.

“Did you just hiss at me? I think you’ve been around Tanie for too long. You know, it truly is a good thing that you’ll be socializing with Miss Y/N instead of staying at home with your cat.”

“Are you judging me?”

Baekhyun gave him a sugary-sweet smile. “Of course not, Mr. Kim.”

“Did someone call me?” Jongdae perked up from where he sat at his desk, in the midst of writing something down.

“No, I was just congratulating our dear colleague on his plans for tonight,” Baekhyun added in a hushed whisper. You were still in the restroom, but it didn’t hurt to be extra careful.

“Plans? With who?” Jongdae asked, dropping his pen and walking over with a smirk.

“Our one and only Miss Y/N, of course. You know how he’s been pining over her for the past couple of months. I knew it was a good idea to hire a secretary,” Baekhyun said, chest puffing with pride.

Jongdae’s eyes widened in realization. “Minseok, I can’t believe this. I’m proud of you, old man.”

“Alright, now I’m glad you two aren’t coming.” Minseok stomped back over to his desk, picking up his hat and placing it on his head. He stopped by your desk on the way out, plucking up the finished report and reading over it for a second. Content with what he found there, he turned to look at his colleagues and tipped his hat to them in goodbye before heading out the door.

“Poor guy. Do you think he’ll be okay tonight?” Jongdae mused.

Baekhyun snickered, lifting his feet up to rest them on top of his desk. “For both his and Miss Y/N’s sake, I hope so. Those two can be so quiet sometimes.”

“Hmm. Maybe we should have come along?”

“No, that would ruin everything. Besides,” Baekhyun added with a laugh, “We’ll get to hear all about it tomorrow.”

Minseok was glad to see you were still in the office when after he came back from interviewing his client. Work would have to wait until tomorrow — he was famished, and felt bad about making you wait until he returned.

“Miss Y/N,” he greeted you. His heart did a backflip when you looked up from your book, a gentle smile on your face.

“Mr. Kim. How did everything go?”

“As well as it could have. I’m going to have to pull some strings to complete this request, but it’s nothing we can’t handle. Are you ready to go eat?”

You nodded, closing your book and leaving it on top of the desk. The only lights in the office were the ones in the hallway and the lamp at your desk. You turned off your lamp before slipping your purse and coat on. “Are Mr. Byun and Mr. Kim still joining us?” you asked, walking over while putting your hat on your head. “Mr. Byun left about an hour ago, but wouldn’t tell me where he was going, and Mr. Kim hasn’t been back in a while.”

“Ah, no. They couldn’t make it.” Minseok felt guilty about lying, but if he told you the truth, that would also mean exposing his feelings for you. He wasn’t quite sure he was ready for that right now.

Your steps faltered, heels almost slipping on the floor before you regained your balance. “Oh.”

Minseok could sense your nervousness, face taking on a worried expression. “We could take a rain check for another day?”

“No, it’s fine.” Despite the shakiness in your voice, your smile was genuine. “What place did you have in mind?”

One trolley ride later, you found yourself at Park and Do’s Kitchen, a restaurant you had read about in a newspaper clipping last month. You stared wide-eyed at the simple beauty of the place, delicate lighting and cozy seating arrangements giving the place a home-like feel.

“This place is more beautiful than I expected,” you murmured, taking off your hat as you continued to gaze in awe.

“I’m glad you like it.” Minseok felt more at ease here, the trolley ride having stirred up a wad of anxiety in the pit of his stomach.

The food certainly lived up to its reputation, and Minseok smiled to himself every time you sighed in bliss. Contrary to his worries, conversation came easily to both of you. Almost all of your conversations up to this point had been centered around work. But now, you two exchanged thoughts on books, people, the latest showings at the picture show.

At the end of the meal, Minseok wouldn’t hear of you paying a single cent, and you had finally given in, tickled pink by his manners and generosity. He even offered to walk you home, your arm tucking in the crook of his as you both chatted and walked along the concrete sidewalks.

All too soon, you had reached your apartment complex, the building teeming with life as people got ready for bed or for a night out. You let your arm slip away from Minseok’s, immediately missing his warmth.

“Thank you for tonight, Mr. Kim.”

“Please, call me Minseok.”

Your face flushed at the sudden change in formality. You knew well enough that the events of tonight had been his attempt to court you. “Alright, Minseok,” you tried out tentatively, loving the way his name felt on your lips. “Thank you, truly. I enjoyed my time with you tonight.”

“As did I.” Minseok’s smile was gleaming, rivaling even the glow of the moon as she watched over you two. “You are a pleasure to be around, Miss Y/N.”

Your lips curled upwards in a bashful smile, gloved hands itching to hold his hands in your own. “I feel the same way.”

Minseok wasn’t sure where to go from here — would it be too forward to kiss you here? Would you be worried about your family watching from the windows? Was he misinterpreting your actions? What if you were just being polite and weren’t as interested as he thought you were. Coughing to hide his anxiety, Minseok tipped his hat to you. “Well, good night, Miss Y/N. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You watched in horror as Minseok turned around, having expected him to at least stay a bit longer. “Minseok!” you called out.

The investigator turned around in a flash, hope brimming in his eyes. You came closer, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his cheek. When you pulled back, you could spot the faintest hint of red to his cheek, remnants of your lipstick against his skin.

Minseok’s hand came up to cover the spot as he gaped in wonder, slowly coming to his senses.

You giggled at his reaction, already walking backwards. “Good night, Minseok.”

“Good night. Sweet dreams,” he added, watching as you nodded shyly before turning and heading into the apartment complex.

He waited until he couldn’t see your figure anymore, the clicking of your heels against the stairs tapering off into silence. Only then did he manage to pull himself away from the building, hands in his pockets as he whistled cheerily to himself. He missed you already, the spot beside him achingly empty now that he had gotten used to being with you.

Minseok spared one last glance at your apartment. He didn’t know which window was yours, but he took a chance anyways, a peaceful smile on his face.

“Sweet dreams.”

CBX Detectives Masterlist: (Minseok)  (Baekhyun)  (Jongdae)

A/N: I accidentally deleted the draft I had for this after getting everything formatted god ☠️ but this was so fun to write! it’s inspired by the horololo music video, and if you had to pinpoint it in a certain date I guess this is vaguely related to the early 1900s (?) i just really wanted to write sweet, gentleman minseok lol

[thorne93]

Insulting

Prompt: Imagine Constantine meeting your boyfriend and finding him utterly ridiculous and boring. He even teases you about it and makes fun of him which genuinely pisses you off and it leads to a serious argument. John tells you that you should be with a smarter man and it all ends in an angry kiss between the two of you. ( @keanu-c-reeves and @theartofimagining13)

Word Count: 1749

Warning: verbal fight, anger, cheating, language

Note: First Constantine fic. I love Keanu....Just..a note, lol. Beta’d by my other half @like-a-bag-of-potatoes

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

“Thanks for dinner,” you said sweetly as you put your hair behind your ear, walking down the sidewalk, as a chill swept through the air, a sign that autumn was gaining power.

“Anytime,” Ryan noted with a smile as he walked beside you, looking handsome in a dark long coat and sensible scarf. He could certainly afford to look dapper on a CFO salary. “I’m glad I got to see you this week,” he remarked. “I’m sorry, I’ve been so busy with meetings and work and deadlines…”

“Oh, don’t worry about it,” you assured, the two of you still strolling side by side. You glanced up, for some unknown reason and saw the street you were on and stopped dead in your tracks. “Oh, hey, would you care if we stopped in on my friend? I’d love for you to meet him.”

“You mean Constantine?” he asked, recalling the hundreds of times you’d brought up your best friend, the guy you’d known for what seemed like ages.

“That’s the one. Please? It would mean a lot,” you nearly begged with puppy dog eyes. “We’ve been going out for three months. I think it’s time.”

He seemed to hesitate for just a moment before nodding his head. “Alright. Sure. Let’s go see this infamous Constantine.”

Beaming at him and hooking your arm through his, you showed him to the apartment. Knocking on the dingy door, only to be greeted by the best man you’d ever known -- John Constantine, clad in a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up, a black tie, and black suit pants. He was your rock. There for you through thick and thin. He was a bit of a drunk, a bit of an ass, but a really good guy deep down, he just had a funny way of showing it.

“Y/N, kind of late for a house call,” he greeted, his dry tone so familiar to you that you could probably recite what he would say.

“Not a house call, Constantine. I want you to meet someone!” you said with a wide grin.

His eyes went from yours to your boyfriend. The look of total disdain swirling into his dark eyes as he assessed the man on your arm.

“Why?” he asked, his eyes sliding back to yours, his lip slightly curling up in disgust.

“Because he’s my boyfriend. I told you about him,” you reminded in a kind tone.

“Ah, right, the glorified accountant. Come on in,” he offered with a taste of sarcasm as gestured while he opened the door wider and stepped to the side.

“Thank you,” you kindly said. No matter how rude Constantine was, no matter how cruel, or mean, or apathetic, or sarcastic he ever got, you always countered it with a full on ray of sunshine, refusing to be anything but positive around him, he already had it hard enough as it was.

“So Constantine, this is Ryan. Ryan this is Constantine, or John but--”

“But don’t ever call me John,” he cut you off, looking directly at Ryan, and you could swear he flinched.

“Oh, okay. No problem. Nice to meet you, Constantine. Any friend of Y/N…” he trailed off, holding out his hand for John to shake it, but John just looked at it as if it were leftover scraps. Utterly uninterested and unappealing. Instead, he reached over onto his table, grabbed a cigarette, and lit up, forcing Ryan to awkwardly drop his hand and shove it into his pocket.

“What do you do for a living, Constantine?” Ryan asked, trying to get conversation going.

“I work,” he responded in a short, clipped tone before taking a hit of the cigarette.

“Uh, yes, but I meant what do you do for--”

“Hey, you want a drink?” Constantine asked, interrupting yet again. “You look like you could use a drink. Let me get you one.” He pretended to be kind and polite for a moment before going to his dingy kitchen, pulling out two small glasses, pouring the scotch, and then brought them back. One for you and Ryan, and his was already half empty on the small table where he’d been leaning. The three of you sat down at the table.

“So, you work with numbers, huh?” John asked before taking another puff, letting the cigarette rest between his lips as he eyed your boyfriend. “Must just be a fucking thrill.”

“John,” you chastised lightly.

Ryan eyed you for a moment before peeling them off of you to look at your friend. “Uh, yes. I’m a CFO for Leaflin and Co. It makes pretty good money and--”

“Something you can’t take with you when you die.”

Ryan frowned and leaned forward a tad, as if he hadn’t heard John. “Beg your pardon?”

“Money. You think you can take that shit with you when you die? Any of your thousands or millions? You think any of that matters when you’re in Hell with demons clawing at your eyes and fire setting your skin ablaze for eternity?” John was leaning closer now, his tone more harsh, more serious than it had been. When his rant was done, he took another puff and leaned back.

“I..I don’t think I follow,” Ryan meekly said.

“No, of course you don’t,” John remarked, looking down, ashing his cigarette into the ashtray you’d gotten him about five years ago as a Christmas gift.  “How did you wrangle this one up, Y/N?”

The three of you talked about how you met Ryan and a little more about what Ryan was interested in, and what you two did together on your dates, hoping maybe he’d warm up to him.

“Really, Y/N? This is him? This is the guy you’ve been telling me about? I hate to break it to you, but he’s another money hungry, trophy wife hunter.”

“John,” you chided again. He’d only ever met one of your other boyfriends and this is why you didn’t introduce them. Because he always behaved like an ass.

His dark brown orbs shot over to you. “What? I’m just saying. You could do better.”

“I’ll have you know I care very much for Y/N,” Ryan responded.

“That’s all fine and dandy, but she could do a hell of a lot better than some dude in a suit that will either end up with a coke habit, fuck his secretary when you tire of her, or embezzle so much money you become filthy rich, giving Y/N a life she never dreamed of just to have it all ripped away by feds because you were too fucking stupid to keep it hidden.” He leaned forward, a satisfied smirk on his face as he stared intensely at your boyfriend. “Am I in the ballpark, ace?”

“I don’t have to stand for this,” Ryan said as he stood up, angry.

“Wait, Ryan. Don’t go,” you requested.

“I’ll see you later, Y/N. Some company you keep,” he remarked, glancing between you and Constantine, before storming out.

Constantine got up and poured himself another drink.

“What the hell? Why did you do that?” you asked, standing up.

“He’s a douche.” He got done pouring the drink, setting the bottle down before looking at you. “I did you a favor.”

“What is so wrong with him?” you demanded, your kindness slipping away, desperation in your voice.

“Nothing, if you like the absolute mundane,” he responded.

“Don’t be a dick, John. At least I have someone,” you said, a bit of exhaustion in your voice. You always wondered if he was a bitter ass because he was alone at night. “You just want me to be alone like you.”

“If my choices were between that--” he pointed at the door where Ryan had exited just moments ago--”and no one, I’d pick nothing, every time.” His smugness was nearly irritating as it saturated the atmosphere between you two.

“What is so wrong with wanting normal?” you asked, your hands on your hips as you stood before him.

John rolled his eyes. “Because you’re not normal. Because you deserve someone smart, and frankly more worth your time.”

Your eyebrows shot up, wondering where this concerned attitude was coming from. For years, you assumed John could care less who you were with. But sometimes you wondered if the reason he acted the way he did about all of your boyfriends or dates was because….he wanted to be one. And his actions and words now were merely enforcing that.

“Oh? And where do you suppose I find someone who is so worthy of such a thing?” you inquired, your sarcasm heavy as you crossed your arms. Seeing what his answer would be was a mystery to you.

“I don’t know. But it’s not him,” he answered, his eyes down, looking at his cigarette.

You shook your head, a small, humorless laugh escaping your lips. “Coward. You’re so god damn afraid to feel and let someone in, you’d rather just be alone and miserable than put any risk in being happy.”

He was taking a sip of his drink as you spoke. When you were done, he slammed the glass on the table, amber liquid splashing out of the side and spilling onto his fingers. “I’m a coward?” he demanded, standing up and getting in your face. “I’m not afraid of a damn thing. You're the one who would rather be with anyone than…” He trailed off, his eyes slowly drifting from your face, the words hanging in the air between you two.

“Than what, John?” you wondered, your voice barely above a whisper, praying and hoping he’d just say what the fuck was on his mind for once.

He muttered a “fuck it” quickly and quietly before his hands flashed to the sides of your head and his lips crashed on yours, the sensation lighting you up from within. Every nerve felt awakened has his mouth hungrily molded around yours and you melted into his form, kissing back with as much fervor. The heated moment ended, both of you panting slightly.

“Than risk being happy with me,” he breathed, his eyes closed as the two of you rested your foreheads against each other.

“It’s not the happiness I’m afraid of,” you admitted quietly.

“Let’s scare the shit out of ourselves, then,” he suggested, his mouth finding yours again, both of you knowing exactly what you wanted. Knowing that you’d rather risk it all for each other, than not at all.