Castiel hated his job but it paid for bills while he made his way through college. The worst part about it wasn’t the rude customers or the noise but the fact that it was a 24 hour restaurant and he normally got stuck with the late night shifts. Today in particular he’d been given a 9 pm - 2 am shift and it was killing him, especially since his day before this had consisted of three consecutive lectures where he’d nearly killed his hand trying to get all the notes down. His life wasn’t ideal right now but he only had a few more months left until he was done with college and could start looking for another job with his degree.
His face was buried in his arms as he slumped over the hostess stand, dozing off a bit. He was the only waiter on staff right now because how many people are going to come into a restaurant at one in the fucking morning. The bell that was situated at the top of the entrance rang and woke him up, signalling that some people were coming in. Blinking, he rubbed his eyes and walked around the stand and grabbed two menus and handed them to the men who had just entered. In his sleep deprived state he’d failed to notice that one of the guys he’d handed a menu to was wearing black sunglasses and holding a cane. A moment of silence passed before the man made a comment, snapping Castiel out of his autopilot state.
“Oh…yes…I’ll just read this.” said the man, unfolding the menu and pulling it closer to his face.
Castiel looked up and really took the man in. The glasses and walking stick now seemed extremely obvious to him and he laughed at the comment. Normally he would have apologized but he was so tired at the moment that he honestly didn’t care. He tried taking the menu back but the man held onto it stubbornly and, despite knowing the man couldn’t see him, Castiel raised an eyebrow.
“Hey, why are you taking away my menu? I need to see my options here, don’t I?” said the man, flashing a grin. The man behind him looked equal parts embarrassed and amused.
“Of course. Let me show you to your table. Just follow me.” said Castiel who wasn’t sure whether his response was fueled by wanting to continue the joke or because he felt half dead.
Two sets of footsteps followed him and he got the men a booth, watching as the one with long hair tried to help the blind man into the seat, the blind man pushing him off with a comment of ‘I’m blind, not in a wheelchair.’ Castiel couldn’t help but smile at the exchange and stepped closer to the table, holding out his notepad and pen so he could write down the order.
“Can I start you off with anything to drink?” he asked, eyes focused on the white, lined paper
“Uh, yeah. I’ll take a water. Dean?” said the man with the longer hair.
“I’ll have a coke.” said Dean, staring intently at the menu. The thing that really gave away that he couldn’t see it, though, was the fact that he was holding it upside down and was 'looking’ at the front of the menu.
Castiel gave a soft chuckle and wrote the drinks down before walking off. He filled up the glasses and walked back over to the table carrying the drinks, his order book safely tucked back into his pocket. Carefully, he set the drinks down and stepped back again.
“So, have you guys decided what you would like to order?” asked Castiel, hand already reaching for his order book again.
“Uh, yeah. I’ll have the cobb salad and he’ll take the double bacon cheeseburger.” said the man with longer hair, folding his menu up and then snatching the one Dean was holding.
“Aw, Sammy. I get all tingly when you take control like that.” said Dean, leaning back into the booth with an easy smile on his face.
Castiel smiled and wrote the orders down before walking away and handing the piece of paper to the line. It occurred to him that the two men could be a couple. It certainly seemed possible with how they acted married and the one named Sam seemed to be very doting on Dean. A smile came to his face again at that thought. Castiel himself didn’t really do relationships. It wasn’t because he had commitment issues but that no one really interested him. He’d lost his virginity to a girl named Meg at a college party when he’d overestimated his ability to hold his liquor. That was basically just a blur of memories, some of which he wasn’t sure were even real.
That was as far as he’d gotten in that part of his life and he was fine with it. He was focused, going to school and determined to get a degree and be successful in life. He did sometimes have a bit of an ache for a companion but he just told himself he’d get to that later in his life. After all, he was only 25 and on the cusp of getting his Bachelors degree. He had his whole life in front of him to worry about finding a significant other.
The sound of the bell being hit repeatedly snapped him out of his haze and he looked over at the annoyed looking chef. Castiel held up a hand in apology before taking the plates and walking back out to the main dining room. Just to be sure, he spared a quick glance over at the hostess stand just to see if any one else had walked in while he’d been stuck in his head. Thankfully, no one else was there and he breathed an inner sigh of relief.
When he arrived at the table he was serving, he set the plates down in front of the people they belonged to.
“There you go. Call me if you need anything.” said Castiel, putting on his best attempt at a winning smile.
“Oh, this looks fantastic.” said Dean, suppressing the urge to burst into a fit of giggles.
Castiel was about to say he was glad the food looked good to him before he remembered, once again, that he was speaking to a blind man. He couldn’t help the string of chuckles that escaped his mouth, his shoulders moving with every one.
“See, Sammy. He thinks I’m funny.” said Dean, pointing in the approximate direction of Castiel.
“Yes, yes. You’re a damn comedian. Eat your burger.” said Sam, opening his napkin to get to his silverware.
“If you don’t mind me asking, how long have you two been together?” asked Castiel, feeling curious.
Dean, who had just taken a bite of his burger, started to choke on it a bit. A fit of coughing and hacking later, he was wiping his mouth off and looking over at Castiel. “Excuse me?”
“How long have you two been together? You seem like a nice couple.” said Castiel, confused as to why that question had brought on the choking response. Off to the side, he could see Sam with an awkward look on his face and focusing his eyes on his salad.
“Oh, we’re not….we’re brothers. See, Sam. This is what happens when you treat me like your wife.” said Dean, his face screwed up in what Castiel could only assume was a glare.
“Yes, because being nice is treating you like my wife. Shutup and eat your burger, jerk.” said Sam, giving Dean an annoyed look before stabbing his fork into the salad.
“Why don’t you shut up, bitch.” mumbled Dean, looking down at his meal and grabbing his burger again.
“Oh…I’m sorry about the assumption. I’ll just…go.” said Castiel, face flushed and feeling like he wanted to throw himself into a fire.
He didn’t show his face back at that table until he saw Sam waving his hand for what he could only assume was the check. Castiel got the receipt printed out and walked over to the table, setting it down along with a pen. “Here’s the check. I hope you had a satisfactory meal.” said Castiel, a tight lipped smile forming on his face.
He backed away from the table, watching as they paid before going towards the exit. Castiel, like always when he worked a late shift, was leaned against the hostess stand. He was drifting away in his mind away when he felt someone tapping him. Thinking it was his boss, he straightened up and put a professional face on before turning around. Instead of his boss, however, he saw Dean.
“Hey, can I get a name to go with the sexy voice?” asked Dean.
Castiel was caught off guard for a few seconds and just stared at him, his mouth opening and closing. He was sure that guy would want nothing to do with him after making the assumption that he’d been involved romantically with his brother.
“Oh..um…Castiel.” he said after clearing his throat.
“Castiel, huh? Well, that’s a long ass name. I’ll shorten it to Cas. So, Cas, would you be free Friday night?” asked Dean, a smile spreading across his face.
“Friday actually isn’t a good day for me.” said Castiel, seeing Dean’s face fall. “I’m off on Sunday, though.”
“Sunday it is then. Here’s my number.” said Dean, pulling out a piece of paper and handing it to Castiel.
It wasn’t until the two men had left that Castiel spared a glance at the piece of paper. On it, sure enough, was a phone number and a little note from Sam saying 'good luck.’ Yep, they were brothers alright.
It had been four days. For four days, Jungkook hadn’t seen or spoke to you. He had received various messages and calls from you, but ignored them. It was like he was missing something from his life, and he really didn’t know what to do with himself.
He was in Jimin and Yoongi’s dorm room, sitting on the floor and playing video games on their large television. He wished he didn’t feel as out of place as he did.
Jungkook had came to the dorm with a sad look and an overnight bag, asking “can I stay with you guys for a little while?” and being Jimin and Yoongi, they welcomed him into their home.
“I’ve been meaning to ask,” Jimin said, his eyes never leaving the screen as he clicked the buttons on his controller. “What happened between you and y/n that made you come stay with us?”
Jungkook pressed pause instantly, running a hand through his hair. He would never admit it, especially to his guy friends, but it was something more than “y/n was keeping secrets from me”. It was the feeling of his heart drop when he seen the hickey, it was the pain in his stomach when you didn’t tell him, it was the ache he had when he imagined you with a stranger on you. It didn’t make any sense.
“She was keeping secrets from me, and that’s something we don’t do.” Jungkook told him. At least it was partially true.
“Have you talked to her recently?” Jimin asked.
“Why don’t you just text her, tell her to meet up with you and talk through everything?” Yoongi suggested from the couch, where he was listening to every word. “You two have always been inseparable, it’s weird to stop speaking completely. Let her explain why she was keeping a secret from you.”
Jungkook knew Yoongi was right, he was often right, but he couldn’t force himself to find the right words to say. He couldn’t muster the confidence to talk to you, to start a conversation after four days of nothing. He did miss you, though.
“I don’t think texting her is a good idea.” Jungkook explained, returning his attention back to the game.
“I’ll text her for you.” Jimin stated. “I’m a master of smooth talk.”
“Shut the fuck up.” Yoongi said and rolled his eyes.
After a little more convincing, Jungkook had sent you a text message (with the help of Jimin). He only hoped everything would go back to normal and he wouldn’t still feel the ache in his chest.
You were in your room, sitting against the headboard of your bed with blankets gathered at your waist, when your phone vibrated on your lap. Stopping your adventures of channel surfing, you looked at the bright screen.
[ 10:33 pm ] kookie: hey… can we meet at latila’s?
You smiled. After days of not talking to your best friend, you were feeling lonely and quite frankly, you needed someone to talk to. The apartment was quiet all of the time, and you didn’t really have any other friends to rant to or get help for homework from. Just seeing his name light up your screen made your day better.
[ 10:34 pm ] y/n: i would love to, but i’m already in my pajamas. come home?
[ 10:35 pm ] kookie: i will tonight, i just thought it would be easier to talk at our favorite place first.
[ 10:35 pm ] y/n: ok, i’ll get ready then. see u soon?
[ 10:35 pm ] kookie: see u soon.
You couldn’t hold back a huge grin as you rushed to get ready. It was late, yes, but Latila’s was a coffee shop that was open 24 hours, and served the best coffee any time of night. It also helped that one of your friends worked the night shift most nights, so a lot of the time you were given special discounts.
You slipped on your jacket and shoes before rushing out of the door, grabbing your keys along your way.
The sky was dark and the air was cold when you walked down the street. You wouldn’t need to drive, the place was only a street away on the corner, so you thought it was fine. But you soon regretted it when you felt a cool wind.
You wrapped the jacket tighter around your body, only to feel an arm slip around your shoulder.
Jumping, you looked up to find Kim Taehyung smirking at you.
“Hello, love.” He grinned, not removing his arm from around your shoulders. “What might you be doing, walking around in the dark?”
“Don’t call me love.” you told him, slipping from his grasp. “And don’t you have some other girl to bother?”
“You’re cute when you’re upset, love.” he smiled.
You turned to face him. You couldn’t help but smile at him as he looked like a mess.
“Why do you look like you have blue balls?” you laughed.
He didn’t say anything, he only smirked again. You turned to the left, and he followed persuit. You stopped.
“Seriously, go away.” you said, glaring and wrapping your arms in front of your chest.
Taehyung moved closer. He leaned his head to your neck, so close but not touching, and you could feel his warm breath.
“Come with me.” he whispered.
You shivered, and your arms dropped to your sides. How had only a couple words make your body tremble beneath him? Why does he have such an effect on you?
“I thought you don’t do seconds?” you retorted. You hadn’t moved your body, though. You didn’t know if you were too frozen to move, or too scared that if you moved he would move away.
“I am willing to make an exception to hear you scream my name again.” he spoke lowly.
His lips were on your neck. It was a simple, quick peck on the part where your collarbone meets your neck. You bit your lip as you felt him give you another soft kiss on your neck, and then your jaw.
His lips were by your earlobe, kissing a small trail, when he whispered “just tell me when to stop.”
You turned to him, catching his dark and lust-filled gaze. Biting your lip again, you felt the familiar sensation between your legs. He smirked at your expression.
Suddenly, his lips captured yours. He pushed you into the nearest building, kissing you roughly. Your lips moved against his as though you had kissed a million times.
“Your house or mine?” he asked as he broke away.
Jungkook was sitting by the window only a couple yards away, watching as you spoke to Taehyung. He had never seen you two even look at each other, let alone speak, so why were you two speaking so intimately, as though you were friends?
You were smiling at something he said, when Jungkook felt a singe of pain. Then, he gulped. A realization dawned on him, all drowning him at once. All those moments where you had smiled at his dorky jokes, all those moments where you had helped him with his homework late at night, all those moments where you played with his hair when he was sick, all of those moments… meant so much more than he thought. You meant much more than a “best friend” ever could.
He watched you as Taehyung had started to kiss you. His eyes started to burn from unshed tears.
Jungkook was in love with you.
He felt his phone vibrate, and fumbled with grabbing it from his pocket.
[ 11:19 pm ] y/n: hey, something came up. can we please meet up tomorrow or at the house tonight?
He ran his hands over his face, taking one last glance of Taehyung taking you away hand in hand, before replying.
[ 11:20 pm ] kookie: yeah, sure, anything for u.
ah, so i decided to update this every sunday. sometimes it’ll be updated on saturday’s, so be aware of that. thank you all for the love and support i’m getting for this!
It was so cold that you considered turning back to get Jungkook’s leather jacket, which lay forgotten on the swinging bench- or, more likely, on the cold wooden floor. But if you returned you were sure Jungkook would try stop you. You kick the floor and groan. How long would it even take you to get home? Was this even the right way? You wish phone’s batteries would last forever.
A couple of cars had passed you and you didn’t think much when you started hearing the next car’s rev. But when you realized it slowed down next to you, you felt you heart lurch. Your mind raced for possible ways to escape and you slowly, fearfully turned your head to look at the car.
“Oh, god!” You cried. “I thought you were a kidnapper!”
Jungkook, who had his one arm hooked over the door out the open window, smiled. But his eyes were just as concerned as they were at the party. You were embarrassed that he was seeing you this angry and upset and you were embarrassed that you left him earlier.
7. “im a barista at a 24 hour coffeeshop and you just came in with a bucket and asked me to fill it with coffee… u okay?” Hermione x (Your Choice)
Draco was bored.
Their last customer had come in hours ago and it was almost closing time. He pressed at his cuticles and leaned one hip against the counter as he counted down the minutes until he could officially close the small coffee shop. He sighed and looked up at the clock again. Surely at least 10 minutes had passed…
Only two minutes had passed.
He wished he wasn’t the only barista currently working. He would have preferred to have someone to talk to to help the time pass. Even Pansy. He pressed down on his cuticles harder as he thought about how much he disliked this job. It wasn’t like he had to work. He was a Malfoy. He would never have to work a day in his life if he chose not to. But his mother had insisted it would build character. So, here he was. In a horrid puce colored apron that clashed horribly with his coloring.
His back was to the door when he heard the small tinkle of the bell that signaled its opening. He frowned and glanced at the clock again, 9;43 pm. They closed at 10 pm on the dot. Who would be coming in this late? He completed the turn to find a harried looking young woman holding a bucket standing in front of him.
His frown deepened. “Can I help you?” he asked as he took her in. Her hair was wild and frizzed and he expected she had been running her hands though the strung out curls, or been pulling on them, and had caused them to stand up. Her shirt was too large and had the local college’s logo on it, it hung off one shoulder revealing a bit of a tattoo on her collar bone. Draco wasn’t sure but he thought it might be birds. Her eyes looked slightly wild as she held out her bucket toward him.
“I need you to fill this with coffee.”
Draco blinked, “Excuse me?”
She shook the bucket slightly and held it out further. Her arm stretched to its full length now. “This bucket. Right here. Fill it with coffee. I don’t care how much it costs.” her wild eyes were steady on his and too wide.
“Um…” Draco stalled, unsure how to proceed. They didn’t have an option for ‘bucket of coffee’ “I don’t think that’s legal. Or healthy,” she blinked up at him and continued to hold the red plastic bucket out to him by the handle, “Look, maybe this is none of my business, but are you okay?”
The woman looked up at him, brows scrunched together as if she needed to consider her answer. “It’s finals week.” she finally told him. Her tone was practical, as if that explained everything.
And really, Draco supposed it rather did. He nodded solemnly at her in understanding. “Okay.. what’s your name?”
“Hermione.” she supplied with a smile and Draco felt an answering smile spread across his face.
“Hermione.” he said the name slowly, enjoying the way the syllables rolled off his tongue. “How’s this. I’ll give you the largest coffee we have, with an extra shot even, on me. But no bucket. Deal?”
She tilted her head studied him for a second. Her eyes flicked down to his name tag, then back up to his face. She lowered the bucket, “Deal. Will you sit with me while I drink it?” she added.
Draco’s smile widened, he glanced at the clock, 9:56 pm, “Sure.”
Characters: Jungkook x Reader Genre: Fluff Word count: 585 words
A/N: This will be the last thing from Admin Caramel till after exams! My exam starts in 2 days, whereas Admin Dumpling’s starts tomorrow, hence the MIA. Anyways, this a little drabble I wrote from spontaneous 2am inspirations, as well as a thanks for 1K followers! Enjoy~ -Admin Caramel
If there was one thing you would eternally be grateful for, was Jungkook’s presence in your life. Meeting someone like him was something you did not expect; more or less dating and falling for someone, especially at a point in life where dating was the least of your priorities.
Jungkook waltzing into your life was not an unwelcome occurrence, yet it also was not something that you had accepted with open arms. It took awhile for the both of you to become acquainted, despite the both of you being regulars at the coffee shop. 24 hours a day, and 7 days a week, yet the both of you always seemed to be at the coffee shop during the same times. The both of you would sit at your usual seats, neighbouring tables tucked away in a quiet corner, the tables far enough from the other allowing personal space, yet close enough to subtly admire the other.
Request: (anon) Hey do you think you could right an modern au Aaron burr x reader where burr works at a coffee shop and like that’s the main reason the reader goes there and like idk a cute fluff
A/N: I am so sorry this took so long! I wanted to make this really good! I haven’t been writing a lot lately, so I rewrote this one like ten times. I hope you enjoy. Thank you for requesting!
It’s a lonely table by the window.
The coffee shop is full of chatter. Full of words and love. Lipstick stains on coffee mugs. There is everyone and no one here. Everyone is a nobody. Even the woman who sits in a booth of her own, silently sipping her cup, her face plastered with makeup. Struggling writers and playwrights drink their fifth cup, and it’s only two in the afternoon. There is a group of teens, gossiping amongst each other, all while trying to find the perfect selfie angle with their cappuccino. Then are two forever lovers, sharing a booth and a coffee, whispering sweet nothings to each other. Hopelessly blind and in love.
You crease your thumb over the wrinkled paper. The number is barely recognizable now, all of the ink smeared. Now blacking your thumb. You don’t look at the clock because you know you will watch the minutes tick by. You will only count and add the lonely minutes of your life. If you had a dollar for every minute, you would be rich. Rich and alone. You dreamed of living in a cabin in the woods, where there was no judgement or pressure for love. No disappointment.
Solitude sounded nice.
You cursed yourself as you glanced at the clock. Automatically adding the numbers in your head. He was supposed to show up over an hour ago. An hour you could’ve been sitting at home, not feeling bad for yourself, and starting a Netflix binge. An hour not sitting here feeling humiliated.
“Excuse me, I don’t mean to intrude, but is there something I can get you?”
You looked up to the voice.
You were met with soft brown eyes, chocolate skin and a warm smile. The barista, adjusted his golden name tag, that read Aaron. He ran his hands over his green apron once, then clicked his pen and put it to his ragged coffee stained notepad.
You blushed, feeling a thousand times more stupid and embarrassed. You crinkled the smeared phone number and stuffed in your pocket.
“No, sorry, I was just leaving.” You slid out of the booth, bumping into him. He took a step back. You hurried to the door but he stopped the door.
You looked out the french doors. The rain had increased from a small drizzle to a complete storm. “I love rain.” you said, “I don’t mind it.”
“Let me at least walk you to your car then. I have an umbrella in the back.”
You sighed. “No, really, it’s fine. You have to work anyway.”
Aaron shook his head and ran to the counter and reached over for his umbrella and coat. He threw it on and popped open the umbrella. “Don’t worry, I have someone to stay here.” he held out the umbrella to you. “Where is your car?”
You and Aaron walked in silence down the street. He held it over you, the rain dripping off the edges down his back.
“The point of an umbrella is not getting wet, right?” you laughed at Aaron.
He grinned. “But, ladies are to be treated as royalty. I am but a lowly peasant.” he laughed, pretending to bow.
“Um, my car is just up here.” you pointed to the street around the corner. You and Aaron took shelter under an awning. He was shivering.
“This is it, then?” Aaron asked.
You laughed and shivered. “Yeah. Thank you so much. You really didn’t have to.”
“I’m just glad that you won’t catch a cold.” he smiled.
“Can’t say the same for you.”
He grinned and bowed to you dramatically. “Well, fair lady, it seems we have reached our destination. I unfortunately have a coffee shop to go back to you. Won’t you please order a coffee next time.” he grinned. “Adieu.” you bowed again and gestured like he had a hat to tip. He waved and smiled and turned around, back into the rain.
You frowned and walked back into the rain too. You walked. Past all the cars that weren’t yours. Walked home in the rain, the only warmth you still had with you was his warm smile.
Ten a.m. on a Tuesday. You sat where you had four days previous. Next to the window, at a table for two. You weren’t waiting for anyone though. You didn’t have any expectations. You didn’t order any coffee.
Aaron worked at the counter, giving away a smile and compliment with every order. You felt his eyes on you, when you weren’t looking at him. When he walked by, you watched. He went to each table. Except yours. He gave you shy smiles as he walked around you. You just stared until he looked away. Then you smiled. The lights seemed to shine a little better this morning.
The cold from the day in the rain had finally caught up to you. But still, you walked from your apartment to the coffee shop. You coughed and sneezed. You enjoyed the warmth. You admired the way the light shined and the words people spoke to each other. The forever lovers were sat in the same booth, laughing at each other while sharing a gaze full of love.
Aaron only smiled at you.
You stayed for an hour, listening to the sounds of the coffee shop. Enjoying the scene, the people and the warmth.
Every morning. You woke up and walked to Burr’s Cafe. You stayed for an hour. You sat by the window. Some glared at you, couples mostly looking for an empty table. The cafe was always busy, and only Aaron ran it. You left after an hour, without having ordered anything. Every night, without fail, you found yourself in the same seat. Admiring the same dark eyes and smile that laid itself on you.
It was all falling apart
You couldn’t sleep last night. You lived alone. There was a dull pain inside of you when you heard the lonely ache of the your whitewashed walls. The rooms were without color. The walls without paintings. You only got up to go to the coffee shop. Aaron’s smile was the only thing that made you smile now.
You didn’t get out of bed today
You couldn’t sleep. You hadn’t slept. You coughed nonstop. You hadn’t showered in days. Old pictures were laid out on your night stand. They were smeared and ripped beyond recognition. They were never dry
You cried to yourself saying, “I’m broken.”
It was a mantra.
It was a truth.
The rain fell in streams across the window panes. You sat in the chair and looked out the table. You went in the morning. You watched people come and go. You listened to Aaron hum as he did the dishes. You slept. 11 p.m. and the rain still wasn’t giving up. Your back was sore from sitting all day, but you remained.
Aaron walked past you and flipped the wooden sign to Closed. He untied his apron and hung it on the rack.
“24 hour coffee shop.” he laughed.
You looked up to the familiar smile. He placed a red steaming cup in front of you. He sat across from you. “Do they really expect one man to never sleep? I can’t live on coffee forever.” he laughed.
You moaned, not caring that Aaron was there to see you in disarray. You sat up and stared the cup in front of you.
He sipped from his. “Come on, try it. It’s hot chocolate. A gold old cup of coco does wonders.”
“What wonder do I need?” you said, sarcastically.
He smiled. “That is none of my business. I am just the coffee man. Muffin man on weekends too.” Aaron laughed. “I just make muffins all day on Saturdays. Take the day off.”
You laughed half heartedly. “Are you the milk man on Sundays?”
He smirked. “Is that a euphemism?”
“Mayb-” you blushed, “no.” You lifted the cup to your lips. You closed your eyes and drank. It was warm and creamy. It was just right. The chocolate and the flavors danced on your tongue. You swallowed. “Thank you. This is really good.”
“Well I am the milkman.”
“Oh, shut up.” you laughed.
“As you wish.” Aaron waved his hand out to him like he was bowing. He sipped his cup quietly. A few moments passed and you couldn’t stand it.
“Okay! I wasn’t serious!”
Aaron laughed. “Thank goodness. I was just about to tell you about the other man I am.”
You smiled. “And what that might be?”
“The chocolate man.”
You laughed absurdly. You cringed exaggeratedly. “Oh god, you keep getting worse. You could’ve stop at the muffin man!”
“Well you asked.”
“Yeah, I guess I did.” you smiled.
You and Aaron stared at each other, smiling between sips.
“I’m glad that you came back.” he said.
“What do you mean?”
He put his cup down. “You know, here. Where else?” he laughed. “I was worried that something had…”
“Worried that something what?” you asked. You already knew the answer, but you wanted to hear him say it. Say that he loved you the way you loved him.
“I was worried that something had happened to you! Okay? I was worried that I had said something wrong or done something wrong. Because you stopped coming and that first day you just didn’t seem like you wanted anything to do with me.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The car!” he shouted. “Letting some stranger walk you out to your car in the rain, letting himself get drenched for the sake of a beautiful girl. Letting some stranger walk you out to a car that doesn’t exist. You really didn’t want anything to do with me, did you?”
Aaron was away from the table now. Covering his face. Pulling his hands away to reveal that he was crying. “This is just a coffee shop. I love it here, I love that I get to do this. But when you walked in. When you smiled. It wasn’t just a shop anymore. It felt like home. I always thought that I loved this shop for the customers and the sake of making a good cup of coffee. But that all changed when you came in. It was so cliche and I’m so cliche. It was raining and you were alone. Love at first sight, call it what you will. (Y/N), I love you. I am in love with you. I am in the idea with you. I want to be with you. I want to talk to you. I want to spend the days with you. (Y/N), I want you.”
You began to cry.
Aaron ran to you. “No, please don’t cry. I’ll just leave you alone. We can forget all about this and we don’t ever have to-”
You jumped up and kissed him. You threw your arms around him. His lips were salty and wet. You kissed the tears away. He cried as he held you as he kissed you.
He was warm and perfect. He felt like home. He was home. He was love. He was everything you wanted.
Summary: Dan’s an art student who’s lost his inspiration, although midnight wanderings to an 24/7 coffee shop seem to be helping. The cute barista is probably to thank for this, although the coffee’s good too.
Word Count: 2.6k
i originally wrote this for a fic exchange for @wisperwynd! :]
A/N: I know I’ve been super MIA on my writing but this has been sitting in my inbox and hopefully it will get me back into it. OBV will be doing a part two, to keep me accountable for writing more. Any comments and feedback will be much appreciated. Love you guys!
It was about that time of night where it was very clear sleep would not be happening any time soon. Suddenly you we’re grateful for 24 hour coffee shops. After getting a hot cup of coffee you sat in the small table in the corner staring at your computer screen trying to make some kind of magic happen.
By magic you meant a story. Writing had been your passion since you we’re a child, unfortunately you grew up and realized it wasn’t the kind of career people survived off of. Both of your parents had made that very clear, they expected you to go to school, have an education, a career, not be some writer who was working three jobs living paycheck to paycheck.
Which is how you ended up working at the BAU, your parents we’re incredibly proud, “Our daughter works for the FBI” just hearing your mom say that made you want to roll your eyes. Not many people knew you even wrote as often as you did, it had become your thing, a secret you left tucked away in-between the many layers of who you actually were.
Writing meant being vulnerable, exposed, visible, all things you actually didn’t want to be in your every day life. But still you wrote, mostly for you but it helped you get through your days. Sometimes if you we’re lucky you’d find that one thing that inspired you to write effortlessly for hours. Lately that thing had actually been a person.
Spencer Reid. Dr. Spencer Reid as he was known around the BAU was the genius in the office, he was smarter than any one else no doubt about that. But there was something about him that made him incredibly dreamy. It became frustrating working with someone every single day and feeling the same thing, over and over again.
So your solution had become to simply write about it. So far it was working letting all your frustrations out into stories that would never happen. It almost felt wrong to be constantly dabbling in-between what was reality and what it would never be. But usually writing things out helped you get over things so the hope was that any day now you’d stop having a crush on Dr. Reid.
That day was not coming any time soon. The more you worked together the more frustrating it was to constantly look into his eyes and watch as he licked his lips whenever was incredibly concentrated. You had learned all his little quirks by now and had learned to love each and every one of them.
Every now and again you’d catch your self smiling like an idiot as you started into space, how much more obvious could it be. You liked Spencer and there was no getting over it.
There was one person in particular who had caught on quicker than the rest of the team, Penelope. After a while there was no hiding it, she knew everything. Form your house crush on Spencer to the ways you had been trying so desperately to get over them.
“Y/N, Y/N” you heard JJ’s voice calling you back from whatever distant world you were stuck in. “Mmmm looks like you were thinking about someone, he must be handsome since you’ve got that silly grin on your face again” JJ said with a devious smile on his face.
“Yeah are you going to fess up and tell us his name any time soon?” Derek said taking a seat next to JJ. Everyone was a flight back to the BAU and apparently al decided it was time to gang up on you. “It’s nothing” You said trying to brush it off and continue reading.
“Oh come on, it’s been like this for weeks just tell us. What’s he like?” JJ said trying to get at least a small detail out of you.
“Yeah what does he do?” Emily said across on the other side.
“And most importantly does he know your head over heels into him?” Derek said unable to keep his laugh to him self.
It was impossible to stop your cheeks from turning bright red, what? No this couldn’t be happening. “It’s no one, its nothing” you said trying to act natural.
“Well, any guy would be lucky to have you” You heard Rossi say.
Any guy? No way that could include Spencer. No never, you shook your head and pretended to continue to read the book in your hand. There was only one thing you could think about getting back home to write.
After everyone teasing you on the plane you tried to look as alert as possible was you walked through the glass door and quickly ran for your desk to grab the rest of your belongings. Hoping to make it to the door before anyone else to could stop you Penelope snuck up behind you.
“Hey you!” She said with a cheerful smile as she tapped on your shoulder. As soon you turned around to see her you sighed in relief, finally someone you could let your guard down around. “Hey P,” She could tell how relived you were to see her. “Has your writing been keeping you occupied?” She said with a sly smile on her face.
“Oh yeah, it definitely has” You said rolling your eyes. “Any progress on the story” Penelope asked.
Which was basically code for, “Hey have you made a move on Spencer or are you still trying to get over him”
“I don’t think I’ve made any progress, none at all in any direction this is heading no where. I don’t see the point in writing it any more, I mean is there anything even going on it’s so frustrating all this work for what?”
From the other end of the hall way Spencer could hear you as you continued to ramble on about your frustrations which all seemed to centered around your writing.
“Did you need help with it, maybe I could look it over?” Spencer said walking up to the both of you. But as soon as you saw him you froze, and Penelope completely changed her posture and neither one of you were able to look at him in the eyes.
“Or not? I was just trying to help you sounded really frustrated and I could give you some pointers but if you don’t want too its fine” Spencer instantly regretted offering any assistance after watching how you had reacted.
“You should totally have him help, Spencer here knows a ton about writing and book, with that memory of his I’m sure hell be able to think of something to help. I can send over the last file you sent me if you’d like?” Penelope said with a devilish look on her face.
“Well I don’t want to inconvenience you I’m sure you’re super busy, I mean we all have stuff going on and I wouldn’t want to get i the way of that.”
“I really wouldn’t mind, I’d love too actually” Spencer said with a smile on his face. “Okay, yeah, sure sounds good.”
There were a million red alarms going on in your head mostly you were screaming ‘!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!’ cause I mean what else were you suppose to feel. It’s not every day you get to turn in a work of writing to the person you’ve been writing about for them to read it, no biggie.
Wrong. After getting home you were trying anything to stay busy. It couldn’t possible take Spencer that long to read everything, and what if he figured out it was about him. Nervously you paced back and forth in your living room trying to think positive thoughts like ‘He won’t get to it today’.
Or, ‘He will never get to it, and never realize it’s about him.’
That was the most positive thing you could think and honestly the one thing you were hoping for. But was that going to happen? It was torturous and the only thing helping you at the point was alcohol. Ah yes, wine. It was almost midnight when you heard your phone ringing, you sat up straight with your eyes wide open when you saw Spencer’s name flashing on your phone. Moment of truth.
“Hello?” You said trying to sound as put together as possible. “Hey, it’s Spencer.”
I wanted to examine the flirty persona we see briefly in Shape Shifted (when Derek flirts with the deputy). This is my take on it.
This is unbeta’d, any errors are my own
Week 7 - FBI Sterek undercover
They were going undercover at a new club.
It had opened up recently, which was the only reason they could both get jobs, and not have it look suspicious. There were some rumours which had got back to Derek that it was the place to go if you wanted to Roofie a supernatural being. Which Derek had not been okay with, Stiles had not been okay with, and their FBI bosses had been more than okay with sending them on the mission.
Stiles had managed to get in as a waiter, and Derek had been employed as a bartender, despite applying for a dishwashing job. At the interview they’d asked if he had experience working on the bar. When Derek had answered that he had experience from when he was in New York (a fact which had surprised Stiles), they’d asked him to do a trial run night.
Stiles was already working as a waiter, taking orders, and delivering food and drinks out to customers. He didn’t realise at first until he’d leant over the bar, requesting the drinks the couple in the corner had ordered from him. He’d still been watching the couple in the corner, as they chatted away between themselves. He was wondering if they were planning on making big night, Stiles already had a full set of tables, which would make it difficult to monitor the other activities at the club. Difficult, but not impossible.
“One Russian Mule and a Jameson and ginger thanks.”
“Coming right up.” Derek’s voice had interrupted his internal musings, and Stiles had whipped his head around so quick he thought he might have given himself whiplash.
Truthfully, he had somewhat forgotten Derek was going to be doing his trial tonight, which was sloppy of him. He shouldn’t have let himself be caught off guard like that.
“Fancy seeing you here.” He said, trying to go for casual, hoping it would also help to cover up the fact that he actually was surprised to see Derek behind the bar. “That, umm, that shirt’s a bit tight isn’t it?”
Derek’s shirt was, truthfully, inappropriately tight. It was clearly not meant to fit someone with his amount of muscle, as the sleeves were straining around his biceps. As Derek leant for the vodka, the shirt pulled up from his waist, showing off his hip bone and, more importantly, the fact that his muscle definition continued from his arms and shoulders down his body.
It wasn’t as bad as the Miguel shirt, but it was damn close. Fortunately this shirt was a lot nicer too, which definitely helped.
Stiles said a little thank you to whoever organised these things, and an apology to his attention span, which was going to be struggling tonight.
Derek shit a flirty grin at Stiles, and he thought his brain might explode because Derek gave him a flirty grin. What was going on in the world right now?
“This was the largest size they had in the uniform. They said they may try to order me a larger shirt, but it won’t come in for at least three weeks.” Derek actually, honest to god, winked at Stiles. “Seems to help with the tips though.”
Stiles was still struggling to catch up with the wink, trying to process that statement, when Derek placed the drinks he’d requested down on the bar for him.
“Russian Mule and a Jameson and dry.” He said, giving Stiles another flirty smile.
Okay, it was officially weird. This was not Derek.
For the rest of his shift Stiles kept an eye on his tables, an eye on the floor for illegal activities, and, more importantly, and eye on Derek.
Derek was magnetic. He was talking to people, he was smiling at people. He was definitely flirting with customers, something that Stiles knew was part of the role, but still caused a flash of jealousy deep inside him. It was like a completely different Derek.
When Stiles’ shift finished, he decided against heading straight home. While Stiles finished at midnight, Derek was due to work until the bar closed at 2am. By Stiles’ approximation, he wouldn’t get out until 3am, earliest.
Stiles checked in as required with Nicki, who was on communications and surveillance, and completed his debrief. He grabbed his bag of junk from her, which included his actual phone instead of the FBI issued burner phone for the mission. He left the mission headquarters, and made is way on foot to the closest 24 hour coffee shop, ordered a black coffee, and chose a seat towards the back, at a slightly more secluded and hidden part of the café. The café looked to be mostly taken up by students, although he was betting the woman in sweats with a coffee and muffin on her phone was going to shift work somewhere, judging by the lanyard around her neck, probably with an ID card on it, although it was obscured by the jumper she had on.
Stiles continued to cast his gaze around the room as he grabbed his phone from his pocket. He unlocked it with his passcode and typed a message to Derek, giving him his address and telling him to come after Derek finished at the bar. He also offered to buy him his preferred drink (a chai latte).
Stiles distracted himself on his phone, checked his work emails, checked his blog emails, and, when he’d exhausted both of those, checked the supernatural conspiracy theory blogs. It was one of his favourite ways to waste time, distracting himself by reading about how someone was blaming the late F train on the presence of super powered vampires, or that their kid had been enchanted by blue haired tattooed beings which were obviously fairies. Sometimes when Stiles was particularly bored his alter ego (Miguel_unicornsarereal) would pipe in with particularly wild suggestions. Sometimes, if he was certain it wouldn’t affect anything or anyone, he’d actually drop the truth on the forums, just to see it rapidly dismissed.
He was contemplating a particularly bland, partially truthful post when Derek dropped down opposite him in the booth. The action startled Stiles out of his phone focused reverie.
Derek slumped into the booth, and his earlier cheery personality was nowhere to be seen. He looked exhausted, which, considering he’d been on his feet all night and for part of the morning, wouldn’t have been surprising, but Stiles thought it was more than just that.
“Do you want me to order your drink?” Stiles asked, instead of bringing any of that up. Here wasn’t the place for that conversation.
“Already ordered.” Derek answered. “You ready to head home when it comes?”
“Yeah.” Stiles was so ready to go home. Derek had probably made it out of the bar before 3am, but he would have also had to debrief with Nicki, and when Stiles looked at his phone, still open on the webpage, the time was 3:34am. “My place?” He asked, a little hopefully.
The thing between them wasn’t new, but it had limitations. Normally when they were working a case like this they stayed at their respective places, but Stiles was hopeful.
“Chai latte?” A female voice above them said suddenly, and a disposable coffee cup was placed down on the table between them.
Derek looked up at the girl who’d delivered his drink, and gave a tired looking smile. Stiles saw his eyes flick to her name badge before he said. “Thanks, Grace.”
“No problem.” She said, with a smile far more genuine and lively than Stiles thought should be allowed at almost 4am in the morning. “Have a nice day.”
Derek grabbed the cup, and stood up out of the booth, and Stiles scrambled to grab his bag and phone, leaving the dregs of his coffee behind.
“Let’s get out of here.” Derek said, when Stiles stepped out of the booth. “To your place.”
“My place.” Stiles agreed.
They’d barely entered the front door before Derek had declared he needed a shower to wash the bar grime and smell off him.
Stiles has asked hopefully if he’d wanted company, and was delighted when Derek had agreed.
Derek’s behaviour on the trip home had been lethargic at best, borderline catatonic at worst, and Stiles thought it was probably for the best that Stiles joined him in the shower. The shower was too small for two really, but they made it work, and Stiles did most of the work, washing Derek’s hair first with shampoo, the conditioner, before lathering and rinsing off his body. On another night it might have been romantic or sexual, but tonight there was no way it was heading that way tonight. It didn’t stop him from giving Derek a soft slow kiss, before he slapped Derek gently on the ass.
“You’re done, towel off and go hop into bed. I’ll finish up and be in soon.”
Stiles finished up as quickly as possible, towelling off, and leaving his hair still mostly wet. It’d dry overnight, and would still be just as messy come the morning whether he dried it or not.
He had something more important to get to.
Derek was in bed on his side, lying on his back, one arm folded back underneath his pillow, and his eyes were open, staring at the ceiling. Stiles hopped into bed on his side, rolling over to face Derek, taking in the lines of his arm, his jawline, and the way he still seemed bone tired.
Now was the time and place to ask what Stiles had been wondering for the better part of the night, and morning.
“Hey, can I ask you something?”
Derek didn’t respond verbally, but he did turn to look at Stiles, which is a pretty good go ahead from him.
“What was that with charming Derek? Earlier? At the bar. That was…” Stiles searched for the words to describe it; Amazing, impressive, unsettling. “That wasn’t you.” He settled on, hoping Derek would understand.
“No.” Derek agreed, and he closed his eyes. “It wasn’t. Charming Derek. That’s new.”
Stiles rushed to explain. “Not that you’re not usually charming. You are. Or you can be. But that… That was something else.”
“I just…” Derek started to say, before he trailed off. He rolled his body onto his back, his face turned up to look at the ceiling, if his eyes weren’t closed. “It’s something I used to do. When I bar tended in New York. It’s not me. It’s like a persona. Or something. Acting a role. Or playing the part. Being the person they want to see, to interact with.”
Stiles fidgeted with the pillow case, his fingers pulling at the material at the corner. He wanted to reach out and grab Derek’s hand, or pull him into a hug, but he’s not sure it’s appropriate right now. He wouldn’t do it without asking first, and he didn’t want to interrupt to ask.
“It’s not me though.” Derek added
“I know.” Stiles agreed quickly. He did know. He could tell that straight away. “How does it make you feel though?”
“Tired.” Derek responded, and scrunched his nose up at it, in a way which Stiles thinks is positively adorable, but knows better than to point out to Derek. “It's… Easier. In a way. But I prefer being me.”
“I prefer you.” Stiles answered.
Derek turned to face him, and opened his eyes, and he gave Stiles a little smile. “Thanks.”
“Nah. You do seriously not need to thank me for that. I’d choose you. Every time.”
Derek’s face goes adorably red, another thing that Stiles will not bring up, at least not right now.
“Do you wanna cuddle?” He asked instead, figuring it was safe to ask now. When Derek nodded he added, “wanna be little spoon?”
Derek’s only response was to roll away from Stiles, but Stiles knows that’s his cue, so he slipped in behind Derek, and laced his right arm around Derek’s abdomen. With his armed he pulled Derek in close to him.
He’s so ready for sleep, and he rubbed little circles with his thumb on Derek’s stomach, careful to avoid the sides where Derek got ticklish.
“I choose you every time Derek.” He whispered into Derek’s hair, and felt Derek’s arm tighten around them both.
Prompt: literally no one asked for this. my own brain did it to me.
Words: a whopping 1,773
Author’s Note: um, i’ve never posted a fic before(??) on here. i’ve never even written a proper fic before. i’m not even a lin or hamilton blog (i apologize for that) but i’ve been obsessively reading a bunch of lin fanfics from some amazing people lately and it inspired me so i literally wrote this in like an hour and it sucks but. YEAH. huge thanks to @manuelmiranduh, @protecting-my-legacy, @fragmentofmymind, @alexanderhamllton, @musicalmiranda for being my inspirations. you guys are amazing and literally a blessing to my dash every day.
Warnings: um, if you have a caffeine addiction?? + mild cursing.
so here we go, i guess. enjoy my crappy lin manuel fanfic because he literally owns my soul now. i’ll probably do a second part because of how cliffhanger-y this ends.
It was not unusual. This was the way it always happened. It
was late evening or early morning and the coffee pot always broke. You’d just
be busting your way through another term paper or bundle of notes to pass a
final and it happened. You’d first pout and curse, loudly, before sighing and condemning
yourself for your damned student budget and “why didn’t I splurge more for the
better coffee maker?!” Tonight, you had a four-page paper about the history of
journalism during war due at 8 AM in the morning. Instead of letting your anger
get the best of you, you shrugged on a coat, packed up your laptop, and took
your keys and wallet from the table near your apartment’s front door. This
paper couldn’t finish itself and you couldn’t work without coffee. Therefore, a
24-hour coffee shop was your best bet and you happened to know where the best one
in the city was.
Dan’s mind is stuck in the sky, infatuated by the stars, Phil’s the one who keeps him on the ground.
“Dodie and Phil are waiting for him under the amber glow of a streetlamp in front of the 24-hour coffee shop. They’re used to him being late, used to the brown-eyed boy being too caught up in the universe to have any time to even remotely care about the people who he’s supposed to be doing things with.
They don’t blame him. They, too, can see into the vastness of the universe and get stuck in how it looks. But Dan is the only one who actually physically cannot look away.
Phil says something about Dan being late and Dodie hums a quiet tune under her breath.
It’s just after 2am but it’s the best time to be awake.”
Outside of Ilvermorny is a small town that is a popular weekend destination for students. Named after the young founders of the school, Boot’s Keep is a bustling town for the everystudent. Coffee shops, wand repair, pet supplies- anything students would need outside of school work. It would operate on the basis of a college town but many of the businesses are leased to alumni and are staffed with older students to earn a wage.
Some of the hotspots of the Keep are the Noctua- a 24-hour coffee shop and the wizarding world’s magic Starbucks; Phillipa Piper’s Dance Hall- a night club that always seems to change its interior depending on the night (the administration is trying to get Old Miss Piper to stop bringing untrained jackalopes and dust devils to her hall for country night); Greyhops- a beer distillery (butter and otherwise) that was founded and completely staffed by alumni; and Sayre Plaza- a wide open space in the middle of town that hosts the annual Ilvermorny Superbowl watch party.
Sitting on the bench in the park all alone kind of made you think. It isn’t the first time that Hoseok had been late to one of your many scheduled hangouts. And it definitely wouldn’t be the first time that he had been a no-show entirely. If that was the case, you would get a very long apology text later. Being the best friend of a K-pop idol really had its downsides.
Hoseok hadn’t always been your best friend. It wasn’t until a few years before he debuted with Monsta X when a scrawny teen accidentally dumped coffee all over your lab notes that you even knew him. He had spent the entire afternoon after that helping you re-transcribe the parts that were incapable of being salvaged. When he had left, you figured you wouldn’t see him again.
I love when you sing in Spanish like that (Alexander Hamilton x Reader)
I do not own the song Despacito.
Dating Alexander was always an adventure. Things were always up and down between you ever since you met him. You should have known you were in for when you ran into him at 3 am at the only 24 hour coffee shop and the cashier knew his whole order without asking. But there was no stopping him even at that hour of night. He charmed you and the next thing you knew you were dating. After that you took over making sure he stopped working and slept and making sure he remembered to eat. He still charmed you though.
You were making dinner in the apartment the two of you shared the radio blaring. You were dancing along when one of your favorite songs came on. You were swaying along mixing the rice for your jambalaya. You didn’t notice Alex had stopped working. He originally came out to ask you to turn the radio down but at the sight of you dancing he stopped. He leaned against the doorway watching you with a smile.
“Got me feelin’ some kind of way
Make me wanna savour every moment slowly, slowly” you sang dancing to the music.
Alex watched biting his lip at the sight of you. He could feel himself swaying naturally at the sound of the song. He could smell what you were cooking and he couldn’t help but wonder what he had done to get you.
“The way you nibble on my ear,
The only words I wanna hear
Baby, take it slow so we can last long” you couldn’t help but think of Alex as you sang along.
“Oh, tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal
Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan
Sólo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso
Oh, yeah Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal
Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más
Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro.” Alex suddenly chimed in catching you off guard.
You didn’t stop him though as you danced with him. He smiled as he kept singing in Spanish to you. You laughed as he put his hands on your hips. You both danced as he led you in a half salsa dance.
“Oh, tú, tú eres el imán y yo soy el metal
Me voy acercando y voy armando el plan
Sólo con pensarlo se acelera el pulso
Oh, yeah Ya, ya me está gustando más de lo normal
Todos mis sentidos van pidiendo más
Esto hay que tomarlo sin ningún apuro” Alex finished the song leaning down and kissing you.
You pulled back after a moment going back to what you were cooking before it could burn. Alex moved behind you his hands on your hips. You leaned back into him as he kissed your cheek.
“You know I love when you sing in Spanish to me.” You turned to look at him.
“I love watching you dance.” He flirted swaying your hips with his hands.
“Alexander I am cooking. Wait until after dinner.” You teased.
“You know I’ve never been a patient man.” He murmured kissing your neck.
“At least let me turn the stove off Alex. Some days I think I should have said yes to that date with Burr.” You shook your head.
“Oh you are in for it now (y/n).” He growled picking you up as you laughed.
Can I ask if you've got any headcanons about the Batfam's self pampering habits? Fancy tea/hot bath/Netflix?
All of them are super into long, hot showers. It’s almost a problem, because Wayne Manor is an old house, and the water heater works well… but not that well. Sometimes, you find one or more of the children outside the bathroom, banging on the door for their sibling to hurry it the hell up– unless it’s Cass that’s inside. Nobody yells at Cass. That wouldn’t be wise.
There’s an entire shelf of the pantry that contains only junk food. it’s at the very bottom so that Bruce doesn’t notice. He wouldn’t approve if he knew.
Tim has a problem with Netflix. On his days off, he casually starts to catch up on his shows, but then before he knows it, the sun’s coming up, and he hasn’t slept. Alfred changes the password biweekly to try to lock him out– it doesn’t work that well. Alfred is furious.
Caffeine. So, so much of it. The batfamily is collectively floating no less than seven 24 hour coffee shops. Those things keep popping up around the city, because they do such good business. Jason especially likes to hit them up… his pumpkin spice latte intake is frankly embarrassing. Please do not tell Damian.