Penelope & Derek’s Matchmaking Service

Originally posted by theonewiththevows

Prompt: The reader and Reid both have a crush on the other person but are too scared of ruining their friendship to tell the other person. Penelope decided to give them a little push and drags Derek into her mischevious scheme.

A/N: This was an idea that popped into my head because I could definitely see Morgan and Garcia meddling in their coworkers love lives. I’m not opposed to making a part two of this, so let me know if that’s something that you would want. Also, anyone who can catch the subtle F.R.I.E.N.D.S. reference that is in here somewhere is my favorite person ever. Enjoy :)

Note: (Y/F/C) = your favorite candy

Warning: nothing

Word Count: 3k

Rating: PG

Penelope sighed in frustration as she watched you and Spencer alternate staring at each other. It was almost painful the way that neither of you actually caught the other doing so. It was like some form of fate caused you to look away a second before Spencer decided to look up. Derek noticed her standing in the doorway. “Hey Baby Girl,” he called and walked over to her. She muttered a “hello” before huffing and crossing her arms. “Whoa whoa whoa, what’s the matter gorgeous? Those processing systems in that big brain of yours hung up on something?”

“How does it not drive you crazy?” she mumbled and Morgan raised an eyebrow at her. 

“How does what not drive me crazy?”

“The two of them!” she whisper-shouted and spun around walking off toward her lair. Derek rolled his eyes, but obediently followed her down the hall. 

“Gonna need a little more information sweetness,” he told her, leaning against the doorframe. 

“Oh c’mon, do I need to spell it out for you? (Y/N) and Spencer. The way those two are pining after each other it’s both sickening and sweet at the same time. I’m not even a profiler and I can tell that they are head over heels. I mean I know (Y/N) is because she told me one night when I got her super drunk with the intent of forcing the information out of her, but that is beside the point,” Penelope explained as she pulled up the bullpen’s security video feed and maneuvered the cameras so they were facing you and Spencer’s desks. 

“What are you doing?”

“I’m people watching.”

“Do you do this all the time?” Morgan asked standing behind her chair.

“Only when we don’t have a case or anything else to do,” Penelope defended, “You would not believe how boring it gets in here and you people never come visit me!” 

“But why- you know what nevermind. Just please tell me that you don’t mess with the cameras in my office.”

“My vision, you are the object of my affection but for the most part my attentions have been focussed on my current OTP as you never do anything interesting in your office.”

“Forgive me for actually doing work instead of making googly eyes at my coworkers.”

“So you have noticed!”

“Of course I’ve noticed. The whole team has noticed. The only ones in the dark about it are the two of them,” Derek chuckled. Penelope smiled as she watched the two of you. You had gone over to ask Spencer something, but he had been so focused on his work you’d startled him and he’d almost spilled his coffee all over himself. 

“They are so cute,” she sighed, “Derek I want my OTP to be together!”

“Somehow I don’t think we get a vote or have the power to make that happen,” he replied, kissing the top of her head. Penelope suddenly perked up. 

“But what if we did?”

“What are you talking about?” he asked as she spun her chair around. 

“What if there was a way that we could force Reid’s hand and make him admit something or ask her out?”

“Baby Girl, Reid has specifically told me that he doesn’t want me messing with this. You think I haven’t tried to get him to make a move?”

“He told you that, but he never told me,” she chirped, turning back toward her computer and started typing away. She pulled up a website for custom floral arrangements and started clicking on various options. 

“What are you doing?”

“Creating something that all of you men hate. Competition,” she replied, patting the side of his face. A few more minutes of meddling the order had been placed, ready to be delivered tomorrow morning. 

“Why do I get the feeling I’m going to be the one he blames for this?” Derek sighed shaking his head. 

“Ha, do not worry my vision. If all goes bad, we pretend like it never happened,” Penelope told him.

You walked into the bullpen the next morning smiling happily as you carried two cups of coffee. You glanced around looking for Spencer, before nonchalantly setting one of the cups down on his desk and arranged the mountain of sugar packets you’d also brought into an orderly pile. You quickly scurried back to your desk and sat down, trying to look casual as you waited for Spencer to arrive. “No coffee for the rest of us, I’m genuinely hurt,” Derek teased, as he sat down on your desk.

“Hey, the only order I remember is Spence’s because it’s the easiest thing ever: a large black coffee and then just bring the whole container of sugar to him,” you replied trying to casually look around him. 

“Uh huh,” Morgan muttered, clearly unconvinced. 

“Good morning,” Reid said as he walked over to his desk past the two of you. 

“Hi, Spencer,” you chirped, “I stopped for coffee this morning and brought you some.”

“Thank you so much, you would not believe the morning I’ve had. How much do I owe you?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you replied tucking your hair behind your ear. 

“Well, thank you. Did you know that coffee was banned three times in three different cultures: once in Mecca in the 16th century, once when Charles II in Europe banned the drink in an attempt to quiet an ongoing revolution, and once when Frederick the Great banned coffee in Germany in 1677 because he was concerned people were spending too much money on the drink,” he rambled. You smiled and shoved Morgan off of your desk, so you could actually see Spencer. 

“Well, I didn’t know that, but I do know that banning coffee should be a crime,” you giggled. Reid smiled back at you and opened his mouth to say something but suddenly went pale. “What’s-”

“I have a delivery for a Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N),” a man said cutting you off. 

“That would be me,” you replied, turning around. “What” you stuttered as you came face to face with a huge vase of lilies and red roses. 

“Sign here please,” the delivery man said, handing you a clipboard and setting the vase down on your desk. You scribbled your signature down on the form and handed it back to the man. “Have a nice day,” he said walking away. 

“Yeah, you too,” you muttered still too focussed on your flowers. 

“Oh my god, those are gorgeous,” JJ mentioned as she walked over to your desk. 

“Who are they from?” Emily asked, joining the two of you.

“I have no idea,” you replied, pulling the card off the side of the vase. 

“Read it,” JJ urged leaning in closer. None of you noticed that Spencer had unconsciously leaned closer to the group as well trying to listen. 

“Nothing can ever compare to your beauty, but these flowers are certainly a nice way to compliment it. I hope these make that lovely smile of yours appear on your face, signed your secret admirer,” you read out loud and closed the card. 

“Oooh, this is interesting,” Emily said nudging your shoulder. 

“Any idea who it could be?” JJ asked. 

“Not a clue,” you replied, sitting back down in your chair, “I’m not seeing anyone and no one has asked me out recently.”

“Anyone who you hope it is?” 

“Yeah, but considering he hasn’t shown the slightest sign of interest I’m pretty sure it isn’t him,” you mumbled. Unbeknownst to you, Spencer had wandered away into the break room fuming. This happened every time he’d finally work up the courage to ask you out on a date or flirt with you at all something would happen. Morgan would come interrupt,  Hotch would suddenly announce that you had a case, or in this case, some jerk would write you poetry and send you flowers. He downed the rest of the coffee that you had bought him and started making another cup. 

“You ok, Pretty Boy?” Derek asked watching Spencer stir the coffee quite angrily. 

“Just peachy,” Spencer growled. 

“Ya know, you could just ask her out. (Y/N) has no idea who sent her those flowers,” Derek casually mentioned. 

“Ha yeah right, I’m reasonably certain she’d rather have fancy flower man whoever he is,” he grumbled. 

“Fancy flower man? Really Reid, that’s the best you can come up with?” Derek asked trying not to laugh. 

“I have plenty of other vulgar things I could call him so don’t push it.”

“Hey, I’m not the one encroaching on your girl, but I would recommend you do something about it before you loose her to fancy flower man.”

“You think I should what?”

“Well, you’re her friend. I’m pretty sure you can find a way to top the giant array of flowers that he sent her.”

“I definitely could,” Spencer muttered, deep in thought, “I need to get to work but first I’m going to get Garcia to figure out who sent those to her.”

“Uh,” Derek stuttered, trying to come up with a way to divert him, “Why does it matter who it is? You should be more concerned with your plan to woo her, you can worry about who it was later.”

“You’re right. I’m going to take my lunch early. I need to go get a few things,” Spencer said and quickly rushed back to his desk to grab his wallet. Derek sighed in relief, happy that he’d managed to redirect Reid’s thought process, and made himself a cup of coffee. Your sudden presence in the break room caught his attention. “And where are you going lady of the hour?” he asked sipping his coffee.

“I’m grabbing another sugar for my coffee and then I’m going to get Garcia to find out who this admirer person is.” Derek did a spit take and started coughing. “Whoa, you ok?”

“Yes, yes, I’m fine. But maybe you should just let this play out? See if he reveals himself to you?”

“Derek, I just want to know who it is so I can tell him I’m not interested. There’s only one guy who’s attention I want and he seems to not really care.”

“Sweetness, Reid is a great guy just a little awkward and shy when it comes to ladies, you might try being a bit more obvious about it,” he teased. You furrowed your brow and slowly turned your head toward him. 

“How did you know I have a crush on Spencer?”

“I’m a profiler and I’m really good at my job.” Derek replied.

“Yeah sometimes I forget what we do for a living.”

“And the fact that Penelope can’t keep her mouth shut,” he muttered quietly to himself. Just not quiet enough.

“What did you say?”


“I’m going to kill her!” you growled and stormed off toward Penelope’s office. 

“No no no, wait!” Derek shouted as he chased after you. You tore the door open and walked in. 

“Hello my lovely, what can I do for you today?” Penelope chirped. You narrowed your eyes at her before flicking her on the side of the head. 

“OW!” she shrieked. “What was that for?” 

“I cannot believe you told Derek that I like Spencer. I told you that in confidence and you swore you wouldn’t tell another soul,” you fumed.

“Technically you told me that while you were drunk.”

“Same thing!”

“But you know I tell my chocolate thunder everything, so you should’ve expected this.”

“Ugh, my life is over,” you whined. “Spencer is still acting weird and now some stranger has sent me flowers. Can you make yourself useful and tell me who sent those at least?”

“I take offense to that comment!”

“Who told shared a secret that she swore she would take to the grave?”

“Fine,” she muttered, “but I already know who sent them. I looked it up earlier.”

“Then who is it?”

“It’s uh, Brian in payroll,” 

“Brian in payroll?”

“Mhm,” she mumbled, twisting a piece of hair around her finger.

“Uh huh, does Brian in payroll have a last name?” you asked crossing your arms.

“Yes, yes he definitely does.”

“Yeah? What it is then?”

“Well, I can tell you that it is most certainly not Morgan or Garcia.”

“Penelope,” you groaned. “Why would you do that?”

“I’m just trying to spice it up, you know force our dearest doctor’s hand.”

“Yes and in doing that you’ve managed to scare him. He took off fifteen minutes ago,” you grumbled flopping down in the chair beside her. 

“Aw, sweets it’s gonna be ok.”

“My life is over.”

“Hey look on the bright side, at least you got some bitchin flowers,” she said trying to lighten the mood. You lifted your head and glared at her.

“Not funny.” 

“(Y/N), you need to get back to your desk and take a look at this,” Derek said as he walked into Penelope’s office.

“And you! You knew she was going to do this and you didn’t stop her,” you growled and stalked over to him, poking his chest. 

“As upset as you are right now, I really think you should just go back to your desk. You might like what you find,” Derek replied pushing your hand away. You narrowed your eyes at him.

“If this is another part of this BS plan you two have going on, I’m going to kill you both,” you grumbled, stalking down the hallway. 

“What are you doing?” Penelope whispered at Derek, as they followed you. 

“Just watch,” he replied with a smug look on his face. You were expecting to see yet another bouquet of flowers that the two of them had sent to you, but you certainly weren’t expecting this. Your desk was scattered with various pieces of paper and rose petals. A large white teddy bear was sitting in your chair with a bouquet of gardenias nestled in its arms and a bag of (Y/F/C) tucked in beside it. You stood rooted in place out of surprise until Derek gave you a slight nudge. You walked forward and picked up one of the pieces of paper. You smiled as you recognized Spencer’s handwriting and started reading. It was a poem by Christina Rossetti, one of your favorites actually “I loved you first”. You had talked about this with Spencer months ago, when you both discovered your shared love of poetry. From the looks of it, he had managed to write down all of your favorite poems on these little notes (probably including a few of his own favorites) and put them all over your desk. You plucked the bouquet of gardenias out of the bear’s arms and smelled them. 

“Red roses traditionally symbolize love and passion while gardenias’ symbolize pure, secret love which more accurately displays how I feel about you,” Spencer mumbled from behind you. You immediately spun around and dropped the bouquet back in your chair, before throwing your arms around his neck and crashing your lips into his. He seemed to be stunned for a few seconds, before kissing you back and wrapping his arms around your waist. Hoots and hollers came from all around the office, mainly from Penelope and Emily. You separated a little breathlessly and rested your forehead against his. The pair of you were smiling from ear to ear. “Please tell me this isn’t a dream,” he muttered closing his eyes. 

“Nope,” you replied popping the “p”, “I’m real.”

“So I take it you like me too or else I think you’ve been sending some very mixed signals.” You chuckled and kissed him again. 

“Does that answer your question?” you asked, after you’d pulled back. 

“I think it does, and to think I had a whole speech planned out to make you at least go on one date with me,” he replied scratching the back of his neck sheepishly. You just shook your head and smiled at him.

“That’s so sweet, but how on earth did you have time to set this up? I couldn’t have been gone more than fifteen minutes,” you said, turning slightly to look at your desk,

“14 minutes and 23 seconds actually, but I’ve had the notes sitting in my bag for about a week now,” he told you. 

“Ok, that’s enough, back to work all of you,” Hotch said, commotion having finally drawn him out of his office. There was a collective “sorry” muttered from around the office, before Hotch turned his attention to the two of you. “Do we need to have a conversation or can I trust that this isn’t going to affect work?”

“I think we’re good,” you answered. 

“Good, now I need to call Dave and inform him that he owes me twenty bucks as do the two of you,” Hotch chuckled motioning JJ and Emily. The two women groaned slightly before reaching for their purses. 

“Wait, what?” Spencer asked raising an eyebrow, keeping his arms wrapped around your waist. 

“To make a long story short, we started a pool going for how long it would take the two of you to get together after three months of watching the two of you flirt. I had yesterday, Hotch had today, Rossi had tomorrow, and JJ had next Monday,” Emily explained as she walked up the stairs and handed the money to Hotch, who gladly pocketed it and went back in his office to presumably call Rossi who was off on vacation time. 

“I cannot believe this! How many people in this office are invloved in our love lives?” you cried in frustration, even though you were smiling. 

“Wait, who else is involved in our love life?” Spencer asked, looking down at you confused. 

“And that’s our cue to run chocolate thunder,” Penelope muttered, as she took off running dragging Derek along behind her. You shook your head and laughed, all irritation suddenly vanishing. 

“Wonder what that was about,” Reid thought out loud, as you unwound from his arms and moved all his gifts out of your chair. 

“Don’t worry about it, just remind me to tell Brian from payroll to send her some flowers,” you told him. He looked very confused but just shrugged and kissed your forehead. You grinned up at him, knowing that this was the start of one of the best times in your life. 

The Girl Made of Starlight (Part 3)

Originally posted by alittlebiteverything

The Girl Made of Starlight (Part 3)

Beast!Adam x Reader

Part 1: here    Part 2: here

You woke early the next morning. The sun had just began to peek over the horizon. You gathered your things, took inventory of the few belongings you kept with you, and then cracked open the book that had caused you so much trouble.

It told of spells, of the stars in the sky, of your mother. For you were different than the other children of the sky. Your mother, the wife of the miller, had hidden so much from the world. Her identity was one of the many secrets. The people of your humdrum village of old certainly had no clue that a celestial queen was living among them. Nor had they known how powerful her daughter was.

The day you turned seventeen, everything had changed. First it was your eyes. They paled to a breathtaking silver. Fierce, potent, striking, and intense. You hadn’t noticed any change…Until soon after, a milky white color flowed from the roots of your hair, changing it to the color of fresh snow.

It was after the change that the attackers had come. Prince Ferdinand, the heir to the throne of the sea, had his eye on you. Your hand in marriage had been promised to him from the day you had been born, only a few years after him. And though his father and your mother had both perished, he still held you to that promise.

You knew with all of your heart that you would never marry a man like him.

Ferdinand was selfish, unjust, and unkind. He would stop at nothing to see you, to make his unwanted advances. And when you turned eighteen, he discovered the book your father kept hidden. The book of the sky. He killed your father to get it. And when you found out what he had done, you took the book and ran.

And you were still running.

A long sigh escaped your lips. The clock tower chimed eight, and in instants, the town erupted into the hustling, bustling, busy everyday activity. Perfect. You would hit the market and be out of the town before Gaston could so much as lay his eyes on you. You laced up your boots, pulled on your cloak, tucked the book into your bag with your map and coins, and walked to the door.

The moment you opened it, Gaston was already standing there with a fresh bouquet of white roses, his fist raised and poised to knock on the door. Your eyes were wide with surprise.

“G-good morning, Gaston.” You greeted timidly. “I didn’t expect to see you quite so early.”

“Well, I couldn’t let you leave without saying goodbye, now could I?” he grinned earnestly and handed you the bouquet. “These are for you.”

“Thank you. You’re very kind.” You reached into your satchel for your coins. “How much do I owe you for the room?”

“Nothing. It’s my pleasure to host such a beautiful guest.” He offered you his arm, but you pretended not to notice, instead focusing your attention on the flowers in your hands. “Shall I show you around the village?”

“Sure. That’d be helpful.” You gave a little curtsy and followed him down the stairs and out of the tavern, where LeFou was waiting. As soon as you stepped into the light, you pulled your hood up over your head.

“Good morning.” He smiled knowingly.

“Good morning indeed.” The look you gave him told him everything he needed to know about the feelings you held for Gaston. Needless to say, you didn’t hold much affection for the so-called king of the woods.

“So, (Y/N), what is it you’re looking for before leaving town? Food? Supplies? Lov-”

“Bread, jam, salt, fabric, and a quill and ink.”

“Ah. All right. Simple enough.” LeFou nodded. “The baker’s cart is over this way.”

It only took about twenty minutes to find everything you needed. Your bag was a little heavier with the new supplies, but it was all stuff you needed. If you rearranged things, you were sure you would have even more room. Now, you stood at the edge of town, looking out at the nearby woods, accompanied by Gaston and LeFou.

“I could take you to your next stop on my horse. It wouldn’t take long, only a few days’ journey-”

“Thank you. For everything, but- I’m better on my own. There are people after me. I’m afraid I’ve already stayed here too long.” You offered a soft and gracious smile. Gaston was very eager to earn your affections, but you simply felt nothing for the fellow. There was something dark behind his friendly gaze. His intentions, his future, it was twisted in darkness.

You couldn’t afford any more darkness.

“Thank you for visiting Villeneuve.” LeFou’s voice was quiet, but heartfelt. You smiled, nodded, and started out down the path.


You trekked through the thick trees until you were out of sight of the village. It was then that you took a moment to sit. You set down the heavy bouquet of flowers. A wave of your hand and a small flicker of light caused the heads of the flowers to drift off of their stems. You made a smooth sweeping motion in a circle, around once and then upwards. The flowers floated in a ring, binding themselves together. You held the finished product carefully: a tiara of sorts.

You placed the roses in your snowy hair, rearranged your things, and then raised your hood to cover your face and made your way down the path once more.


Adam had watched in the mirror as you left Villeneuve. You were so close, and yet there was no way he could stumble upon his castle. It was hidden, tucked away far in the trees. And yet as you got closer and closer to him, he felt the unmistakable feeling of hope swell in his fur-covered chest.

“Master, is there anything I can help you with?” asked Mrs. Potts as she and Chip wheeled in on their cart. “You’ve been in here all day, surely you must be hungry.”

“I’ll be down in a few minutes.” He paused, hesitating with his words. “And prepare for a guest.”

“Someone is coming to the castle?!” Chip’s excited voice rang through the West Wing.

“Possibly.” The large beast of a prince replied. Hearing it out loud made the possibility real. He didn’t think he would be able to handle the heartbreak that would come with losing the chance to meet you, even if it was only for a few days, a few moments even. He felt like he had grown up with you. You were one of the last stories his mother had ever told, so he certainly held you close to his heart, even if you didn’t know it.

Somewhere, deep in his soul, he hoped that maybe you could be the one to break the curse.  If not…he feared he might remain like this forever.

Tags:  @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @jessie-ohler @ellie0813 @ficbucket @dead-lee-15 @dragon–scales 0

Let It Be Known: Part 1

Fandom: Star Wars

Pairing: Mob Boss Hux x Bakery Shop Owner!Reader

Summary: Next to the restaurant that well-known Mob Boss, Armitage Hux, frequents and owns, is your bakery shop. After a rather unfortunate occurence, Hux begins to frequent to your bakery more often.

A/N: FINALLY adding my contribution to the Mob Party. And yes. ANOTHER series. LEAVE ME ALONE. I NEEDED TO GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD, OKAY?!

Originally posted by fairlyasthmatic

Hux inhaled the cigarette smoke then exhaled. The smoke clouding his vision then floating up into the air, “So, Thanisson, you’re telling me that this little Resistance gang held you and the rest of my men at gunpoint as they took my money to then climb to the top of the buildings and throw it into the air for measly civilians to get a hold of it?”

The young man gulped, “Yes, sir. There were too many of them. We were surrounded. We couldn’t fight them off.”

“Couldn’t? Or wouldn’t?” Thanisson gulped again, but gave no answer. Hux sighed and set his cigarette onto the ash tray on the table, “Thanisson, you’re a young boy. I see myself in you. You’re very determined to rise up in the ranks.” Hux stood up and buttoned his suit jacket and leaned over the table, “But you have no spine.” Mitaka came up behind Hux and slipped on his black greatcoat. He then handed him black leather gloves, which Hux slipped on. “However, because I see myself in you, I’ll give you another chance.” Thanisson exhaled a breath of relief, “But fail me again, I will not hesitate to have you killed. Understand?”

Thanisson nodded, “Y-Yes, sir.”

“Good.” Hux nodded and then left the restaurant leaving the young boy shaking in his knock-off Louis Vuitton shoes. 

Hux’s right hand and body guard, Kylo Ren, followed Hux out the door and towards the waiting car, “I think you’re going soft. You usually would kill right off the bat.”

Hux rolled his eyes as he buttoned his coat, “Don’t give me that, Ren. I’m sure you’ve noticed that the number of men I have is diminishing. I have to be careful or else this Resistance will overrule me.” Before Hux stepped into the black SUV, he caught a whiff of something sweet. It reminded him of the muffins his childhood nanny used to make him. His eyes glanced to the bakery next door. He felt a pull. Hux glanced at Kylo and said, “Wait, here. I’ll be back.” 

“A bakery? Really, Hux?”

“It’ll only be a moment.” Hux sneered. He made his way to the warm yellow building. A sign in cursive read: Made with Love Bakery. Hux opened the door and stepped in. He was greeted to warmth and the smell of sugar.

“I’ll be out in a second!” He heard a young woman’s voice come from, what he assumed, the kitchen. Seconds later, you came out wearing a sky blue apron holding a tray of fresh blueberry muffins wearing matching sky blue oven mittens. You set the tray on the counter and gave an exhausted sigh, “Sorry for the wait! I’m Y/N! How may I help you?”

Hux couldn’t help but softly smile. Your smile was contatious, “I couldn’t help, but catch a whiff of something that I believe are blueberry muffins.”

“Well, you have a mighty nose there, Mister Hux. Just took them out of the oven.”

Hux’s smile faltered, “You know who I am?”

You chuckled, “How could I not? You’re Armitage Hux, Mob Boss as well as owner of the First Order restaurant next door.”

“And you’re not scared of me?”

You shook your head, “You haven’t done anything to me that could make me scare of you…yet.” The last part you said with a chuckle, “But anyway, did you want some muffins? While they’re still fresh?” 

Hux nodded, “If you’d be so kind.”

You nodded. You picked up two muffins and set them in a small warm yellow box that matched the outside of your building. You also poured some fresh hot chocolate into a to go cup. You slid them over the desk, “Here you go, sir.”

“How much do I owe you?”

You shook your head, “Free of charge, sir.”

“No, I can’t. Surely I could-”

“I always give newcomers their order free. I also provided the hot chocolate since it looks pretty cold out. Figured you’d want to keep warm.”

“Thank you, Y/N. I appreciate it.” Hux opened the box and took a small piece from a muffin and popped it into his mouth. He hummed at the warmth and the familiar taste, “I feel like a child again.”

You laughed, “Oh really? And why is that?”

“My childhood nanny, that I was incredibly fond of,  would always make blueberry muffins. They were heavenly. Yours taste just like them.”

“Well thank you for your high praises, sir.”

“Please, no need for formalities. Just call me Hux.”

You nodded, “Thank you, Hux.”

Hux closed the box, “I’ll leave you to continue your work. Enjoy the rest of your day, Y/N.”

“You as well, Hux!”

Hux walked back to the waiting SUV with hot chocolate and muffins in hand. When he slipped into the car, Kylo gave him a questionable look. Hux glared at him, “Don’t question me, Ren.”

“She was attractive, the shop girl. Will you see her again?”

Hux wanted to say yes, but he didn’t want to give Kylo the satisfaction of knowing he’s gone soft. Therefore, he simply muttered, “We’ll see.”

When Natasha Romanoff introduced Darcy Lewis to Steve Rogers for the first time, she hadn’t expected them to know each other already and she definitely hadn’t expected Darcy to flip the hell out when she laid eyes on Steve.

“You,” the normally chirpy brunette hissed, pointing an accusing finger at a wide-eyed Steve. “What is he doing here?”

Natasha looked from one to the other, suddenly very interested. “This is Steve Rogers, Darcy. Captain America.”

Darcy looked stunned. She snapped her gaze to him and said incredulously, “You’re the Captain? No! You can’t be.”

Steve looked guilty. “I can explain.”

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BTS Reactions #3- Love at First Sight

NAMJOON-  Life as a flight attendant could be pretty exhausting.  You were constantly dealing with irritable passengers and long hours stuck trailing up and down the aisles in the cramped plane.  It didn’t help that the dress code required you to be in heels and a uniform that did nothing to relax your posture.  Your face was also so heavy in overly colorful makeup, you couldn’t wait to get home and wipe it all of and put on some sweatpants.  

  Currently, you were bending over the small space between to rows of seats in an effort to capture the empty soda cans the most recent passengers left behind.  You really couldn’t understand why they felt the need to shove it into the seats.  Suddenly, you felt a tap on your shoulder.  You turned around to be met with a fellow co-worker of yours.  

  “Hey (Y/n), Ally got sick last minute so do you mind taking her spot up in first class for the next flight?”  Inwardly, you groaned.  First class passengers were the worst.  They were just so entitled and saw flight attendants as personal slaves.  You were half way done with declining the offer when you suddenly stopped.  Ally had worked your shift that one time you had a family emergency on that flight to Germany.  You guessed it was time to repay the favor. 

  The next set of passengers were way less rowdier than ones on the last flight.  For that, you silently thanked god. However, now was the time you were dreading.  It has been 15 minutes since take off, and now officially time to go out and offer drinks and snacks.  You dreaded dragging that huge cart around to serve arrogant rich people.  

  You had just begun going down the aisles when you heard a loud boom at the end of your cart.  You gasped.  Uh-oh.  your worst fear came true, you hit someone with the cart.  Scared at being yelled at, you ran up to the person who you hit.  He was currently rubbing the back of his head, telling you he probably poked his head out at the same time you were pushing the heavy cart forward.   To add insult to injury, you spotted a huge stain on his shirt.  Great, you even spilled a drink on him too.

  “Oh my god, I’m so sorry.”  You said while padding away at the mess that was on his shirt.  

  “Oh, it’s okay.  I’m kinda clumsy t-” Suddenly he cut off as he stared up at you.  Prepared to get chewed out in front of everyone, you rushed to explain yourself.  

  “I’m sorry, I swear I didn’t see you.  If it helps I can offer you anything from this menu for free.”  You looked up from the huge stain, to see him staring at you.  

  You noticed that he was quite handsome however his eyes looked glossy as his overall expression became dazed.  Then, you heard him whisper in that deep voice of his, “So pretty.”

  Your heart dropped, you gave him a concussion!  

  “Oh my god, I’m gonna loose my job.”  And to your confusion he just laughed.

  this was the story of how you met your boyfriend, Namjoon.

Originally posted by ksjknj

JIN-  The brisk spring air hit your body in a rush as you sped down the street.  To your calculations, all you had was two more houses to go and then your shift would be done.  And just in time for your favorite K-drama too!  

  Being a student was hard.  Although you loved focusing all your attention to getting your degree in health in order to help people, bills were pilling up and you could only apply for so much financial aid.  Eventually you got off the couch and applied for some part time jobs.  Although it was annoying to have to begin work right after you get off class, the running electricity and food in your fridge thanked you.  

  Eventually you reached you destination, and got off your bike.  You took off your helmet and switched it for the box of steaming chicken.  Quickly, you took out your phone and double checked the address. You were at the right place.

  As you stalked up the the home, you couldn’t help but notice how big it was.  Perhaps today was your lucky day and you would actually be delivering some chicken to a celebrity.  You chuckled at the thought.  

  You rang the doorbell and patiently waited.  It took only a few moments for the door to open to reveal a very tall, broad-shouldered and angel-faced man.  He didn’t spare you a look and instead dug around in his pockets for his wallet.  

  Somewhere in the back of your mind, you realized he looked oddly familiar.  You could’ve sworn that you saw him on television or something.  But, you decided to leave it as he probably wouldn’t like being asked about his social status.  

  “How much do I owe you?” he asked quietly.

   “14.50 please.”  you answered shortly.  

  Out of nowhere, you heard a fast intake of breath.  Concerned, you looked up to find he had dropped his wallet and was staring at you with his jaw dropped. 

  “Sir, are you okay?”  

  He just continued staring at you as though he had never seen a girl before.  it took him 15 minutes to fork over the money and let you leave.  

  Three weeks later, Jin would still call up the chicken place demanding that YOU deliver.  

Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

   Yoongi-  So you weren’t the smartest.  You weren’t the prettiest.  And you weren’t necessarily charming at all.  But there was something you were extremely passionate about…and that was music.  

  You were a college dropout and a starving artist.  Although you weren’t making your parents extremely proud, you were living life the way you wanted to and focused all of your attention on music.  

  Music helped you through so much in life, you dedicated your life to it.  However, the world wasn’t as understanding as you wished it to be.  This explained why you were playing your violin at the city corner playing for tips in hopes of paying your rent on time.

  Some kind people watched for a while and dropped a few crumpled ones into your jar.  But other than that, people continued to pass you, too caught up in their lives to care about yours.  

  Unknown to you, a man who was sitting on a bench nearby couldn’t help but notice the interesting tune that was floating through the city.  As he sipped on his coffee, his eyes began to search for the source of such a gorgeous sound.  Like a moth to flame, his sight landed on yours as you continued to play your violin.  

  He almost choked on his drink when he saw you.  For a few minutes he continued to stare, wondering if he was dreaming or not.

  Subtly, he passed by your jar just to quietly deposit a $50 dollar tip.

  In the next few days, you couldn’t help but notice that your tips got higher.  For some reason, you always ended up with at least one 50 dollar bill.  You thought about this on the bus ride over to your usual city spot.  Perhaps your music just go better?  The thought made you smile.

  You had only been at you spot for 5 minutes when rain suddenly began pouring down on you and your violin.  your groaned loudly as you witnessed potential tippers run off to nearby shops for protection from the weather.  You were about ready to head off home, when you felt a tap on your shoulder.  You turned around to see a man whom you’ve never seen before.

  All he did was smirk and ask, “You know after all those fifty dollar bills, I think I at least deserve your company for getting coffee.”

Originally posted by minyoongiaesthetic

As always, Hoseok, Jimin, Taehyung and Jungkook version will be posted in a bit.

😊He’s A Tattoo Artist (Ethan x Reader)

Summary: Ethan is your tattoo artist and while he’s tattooing you, he slowly falls in love with you

A/N: I was originally going to make this a blurb with both of the boys, but I decided to just do E :)

You walked in wanting to get a small palm tree on your wrist with “good vibes” written with it. That’s all you went in for. You didn’t expect your tattoo artist to be extremely attractive or extremely badass.

“Hey there. What can I do for you?” He asked as he flashed a famous smirk.
“Hi I would like a tattoo?” You said with little confidence. He chuckled at you. You were a tattoo virgin and he could tell.
“Well I figured that since you came in here today. What would you like tatted? A butterfly? A flower?” He asked in a mocking tone.

“Actually I would like Good Vibes with a tiny little palm tree next to it on my wrist please?” I asked with a shy smile. I showed him the image on my phone and he shook his head with a low chuckle. “What?” I asked confused.

“I did a tattoo just like that a few days ago. Let me see your ID.” I handed him my license while he makes a copy. I fill out the paperwork too. “Nice you’re over 18. Come to the back.” I followed behind me and he pointed to a bed. I sat on the bed and looked at him. “How do you feel about arrows?” I cocked my head confused. “I’m a vibes guy myself.” He starts organizing his colors. “So I can give you a great Good Vibes tattoo, but the catch is, I’m not going to show you what I’m going to tattoo on you.” I opened my eyes wide at him while I was obviously confused.

“No way.” I tried to stand up, but he stopped me by placing his giant hands on my thighs, holding me down.

“Trust me.” He says and I let out an exhausted sigh. I don’t know what made me decide to trust him.

“What if it’s ugly?” I asked as he was getting the needle ready. He let out another chuckle.

“Trust me, if it’s on you there’s no way it can be ugly.” I felt my cheeks begin to heat up as I knew I was blushing. “So do you trust me?” I nodded and he smiled. “Good. Let me see your arm. No peeking okay?” He says taking my hand in his. I closed my eyes as the needle etches into my skin.


“Done.” I heard the tattoo artist say and I see my entire forearm had a new design inked inside.

“Oh my God. It’s gorgeous.” I said in complete awe at my new ink. I looked to my artist who was grinning. “How much do I owe you? I was told the other was going to be about $120 with a tip.” He shook his head and laughed again.

“Well $120 won’t cover this.” I open my eyes wide again. “But maybe dinner after I get off? Around 7?” He asked me completely taking me off guard.

“Like a date?” I asked sounding dumb. I shook my head as he chuckled. I could see he had his bottom lip tatted. “Why me?” I asked and he rolled his eyes with a laugh.

“Well for starters you’re hella cute.” I felt my cheeks heat up again. “You surprisingly took your first tattoo a lot better than most people. You picked a reasonable first tattoo. You have a cute smile, you just every so often would jump and make a little yip sound that sounded really childish and for some reason I couldn’t stop smiling. Plus you’re super trustworthy of someone with a needle and some ink.” He smirks and I smiled.

“How many other girls have you asked on a date after you tattooed them?” He shrugs.

“None.” He smirked again with a light chuckle.

“Are you lying to me?” I asked cocking my head.

“I don’t know. Do you trust me?” We locked eye contact as he folded his arms and rested on my thighs.

“Yes?” I questioned. He leaned up off of my thighs.

“Good. I’ll see you at 7 then.” He smirked at me as he pushed his seat away and holding his hand out for me to take so he could help me up.

“Wait I don’t even know your name.” I giggled. He smiled at me.

“It’s Ethan. I’ll probably be wearing this exact outfit tonight at The Grove.” I nodded.

“Wait. I can’t afford that place! It took me almost three months to save this much for a tattoo.” I said. Ethan just rolled his eyes again.

“I don’t think you understand how dates work sweetheart.” I felt my stomach start to flutter again. He was honestly the cutest.

“Thanks.” I smiled. “See you tonight.” I then felt a burst of courage and I pressed my lips to his cheek.

Originally posted by sensualkisses

I pulled away before leaving him speechless. I walked out of the shop without another word.


pairing: Jimin | reader
✥ genre: fluff (Barista!au meets Floristau)
✥ word count: 2.325
✥ warnings: none
✥ author’s note: OK SO, I changed my URL from zuberrieee to house-of-seoul for anyone and for my followers (WE REACHED 350?!?!) who might have any questions. As for Saudade pt 3 umm, I’m currently editing it rn. but I just was feeling florist au today and look where we are right now. please love it, raise it, take care of it, and send it off to college. maybe ill make another part to this if y’all want me to.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ don’t hate me <3 <3 <3


Serendipity;                                                                                                        ↪  the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

The frigid winter air curled around the silk petals of the flowers. They shuddered in pleasure as their colours brightened in comparison to the darkening clouds looming above you. From far away, the diverse array of petals looked like the aftermath of an explosion, bouts of confetti splayed across the wooden stall. Closer up, the green foliage rolled off into leaves and the bulbs of colour peeled into layers upon layers, outlining the delicate flora of nature itself.

The pale pink apron flapped against your knees as you scuttled back to your flower stall, away from the reckless gusts of wind. You noticed how some of the stems had become dislodged within the bunch, looking like colourful arrows piercing the air. Your expert fingers tucked them back into place and then ran through the disarray of your hair, quickly trying to smooth back any stray strands. Goosebumps arose on your exposed skin and a shiver tumbled down the knobs of your spine.

It was definitely wintertime in Seoul.

Customers hurriedly ran through the streets, sparing passing glances to the flower stall stuffed to the brim with colour. You would describe the stall as a mirage of beauty in amongst the dullness of the city. The scent was overwhelming, yet so delicate at the same time.

The previously darkening grey clouds were now beginning to burst with speckles of rain. You noticed how there was something else which slipped under the scent of your stall. It was a bitter musk that was sometimes sparkled with sweetness and cinnamon. It slipped through the doors of the neighbouring café and latched onto a gust of wind, travelling over to settle into the splinters of your wooden stall.

You didn’t know a time when the scent was not present. Coffee was strong and overpowering – it was a rush. Flowers were quaint and delicate – it was a gentle trickle through the veins. Coffee and flowers were opposites, but both fit together like a lock and key.

It was late in the afternoon and you were trying your very best to keep the smile on your face. You loved your stall – adored it in fact – but the weather was buzzing too close to your skin and the ever-looming rent to pay was closing in on you. It seemed as if luck was entirely against you when you spotted a young man looking as if he was about to edge his way over when the heavens well and truly opened. Your encouraging smile was washed off your lips when the suited man had scurried down the street before you could’ve even had blinked.

Thankfully, the drooping canopy above covered the flowers from getting water-clogged, all the while, though, the rain was making sure that you would be drenched by the time it had stopped.

You were leaning against the stall, head down and arms wrapped around yourself in a bid to contain some heat, when you noticed a russet-crowned angel tottered over to you. You giggled internally at yourself because since when did angels totter?

Of course, it was not an angel, but in fact a petit, espresso-haired, espresso-smelling, but a fairly light-skinned boy, teetered up to you. You instantly named him espresso, but then had a sudden urge to know what his real name was, because you were sure that that name was not worthy. You did think that, though, the boy could possibly be some type of descendant from God because small hands were passing over a steaming cardboard cup. The heat radiated from it and tingled at your skin. The sweet smell of tea and the tinge of bitterness fused with the smell of lavender and lilac made your heart fuzz with warmth.

He had a small smile on his lips. It was somewhat weak, nervous as if he was worried that he was overstepping the general societal boundaries. It reminded you of a snowdrop. His eyes could only be described as copper against honey and sage. You wondered if they blossomed into a stronger, deeper, colour. His dark brown fringe was pushed across his forehead but the rest was covered by a black hood. He still had his apron on; Café Amour standing stark on his chest in white embroidery.

“I thought you could use a bit of warmth,” the boy said, looking at you with such sincere care.

“You didn’t have to,” you muttered, voice quiet and shy, though still laced with thanks.

“You’re freezing out here in the cold, of course I had to.” The boy said it with laughter behind his tone and a smile toying at the corners of his lips.

He pushed the beverage closer to you, practically forcing it into your hands. You cradled it between your hands after accepting it. The heat was in such contrast to the coldness of your skin that it scalded, tiny pinpricks of pain stabbing at your pores.

“Thank you,” you simply replied.  “I- you really didn’t have to, but I appreciate it, honestly.”

“’it’s my pleasure,” shrugged the boy.

You blew it, mesmerised as usual by the little storm that you created, the ripples in the light brown liquid that pushed to the edge. After taking a sip and sighing in relief as it trickled down your throat, warmth spread through all of your veins until it cradled your head with a lovely haze.

When you looked back up, you saw the boy smiling quaintly at you, hands tucked under his armpits as he hugged himself tight.

“You’ve got a lovely stall here,” he said, eyes scattering glances over the flowers.

“Thanks, it’s kind of my pride and joy, so, yeah.”

“I can tell,” is the reply, along with a knowing smile.

“Oh,” you said suddenly. “How much do I owe you, uh…” you posed it as a question, your slow drawl rising in tone at the end.

It took a few seconds for him to catch on, but then he was shaking his head and smiling even more.

“Jimin. My name’s Jimin.”

He held out his hand, waiting for you to shake it, but promptly realised that your hands were currently occupied by the steaming cup of tea and giggled to himself. You found yourself chuckling, too, the laughter from the boy being somewhat infectious.

“Y/N,” you replied in a slightly flushed voice. You cocked your head to the side and smiled widely, nodding your head as a greeting. Jimin just smiled more. The rain was still pitter-pattering around you, but you didn’t seem to notice, let alone care.

“And you don’t owe me anything, think of it as a gift to a neighbour, or something.”

You frowned, “But I have to give you something in return, that isn’t fair.”

“I honestly don’t need anything. Think of it as you helping with my good deed of the day.” He said it with such truth and kindness that you wanted to know why you ever thought the world, people, had changed for the worse.

“Anyway, I have to get back to my shift, but stay warm, yeah?” Jimin said, turning away with a smile.

“Yeah…” you murmured. Suddenly, an idea sprung into the forefront of your mind. You quickly slid the tea onto the counter and scanned the bunches of flowers. Reaching out, you let your fingers wrap around the thin stem and grasp it tightly. You turned around and called out Jimin’s name.

When the boy turned around, water flicking from the tip of his hood and eyes wide, the first thing he saw was the single pink carnation held out in front of him. Its petals were smattered with droplets of water and an edge of an outer petal was curled over, but it still looked pretty as ever. It was baby pink in colour and the petals were wounded together in an intricate design. They were a maze of expensive silk, a perfect mess.

The boy looked up at you in confusion.

“It means gratitude. To say thank you. For… you know.”

Jimin’s eyes flickered between the flower and you.

Uncertainty crept up your neck, causing you to raise your hand and rub at the skin. “It’s not much, I know, and it’s probably stupid but-”

“Thank you,” Jimin interrupted. He carefully took the flower from your fingers and studied it carefully. His eyes were wide and brighter than before. His fingertip prised apart some of the soft petals, ever so carefully and cautiously, as if he was scared to damage it.

A voice scraped through the atmosphere, the calling of Jimin’s name, and the boy was suddenly snapped out of his daze. He gripped the flower as he parted from you with a raise of his hand, and disappeared into the shop.

The rain stopped soon after that.

The weather was dull but the afternoon held faith in the small glimpses of the sun as it peeked out from behind the clouds. You could not help but smile truthfully as customers passed. The breeze was twisting its way in between your hair and the dampness that resided in the air kept you breathing in and out, in and out.

You remembered the elderly man who arrived at your stall no less than ten minutes after opening. His frail fingertips had traced the petals of a lilac, before settling on a bunch of white carnations. You had asked him whether he knew what they implied, and the man had nodded his head with a wry smile. A story unfolded soon after from the old man’s lips, a one founded before you had even graced the earth.

Soon after, customers arrived throughout the day, but you were still stuck with a cluster of now-wilting daisies. You felt good though. Nice could be an adjective to describe it, regardless of how generic and lacklustre it may be.

A waft of sugared air swept under your senses and forced you out of your reverie. It was at that moment you realised that maybe Nice is about to extend its arms to, well, Extra-Nice.

The boy – Jimin – came traipsing out of Café Amour, and you suddenly realised that the skipping of your lunch was not your best idea. In fact, your stomach grumbled at the smell of honeyed treats and other delights.

He was there, in front of you, holding out a maroon cardboard cup and a twitching smile.


“Hello,” is all you could conjure up as a reply.

“I brought you more coffee. Because. Well- I actually don’t know, but- um, here,” Jimin stammered, passing over the cup.

You looked up at him from under your lashes, a small smile playing your lips. The stall was clouded with the smell of flowers, but Jimin was as clear as anything. “Thank you,” you said because you did not know what else to add. It didn’t feel enough, but your words seemed to be stuck in your throat.

You took the drink and held it close to your chest. The weather was not as cold as the last time, but the warmth left a lovely bubble in your chest. Or maybe that was something else, who knows.

“Are you okay?” you asked because the lilac pouches that draped under Jimin’s honeyed irises looked a worrying shade too close to last month’s batch of violets that only lasted a day or two, at most.

The boy shrugged and let out a sigh, unintentionally, you presumed, and tried to smile as best as he could have had. It was lacklustre and weak, but it was something, so you grinned back so hard that a dimple pierced your cheek. In turn, Jimin’s smile widened, so you counted that as a success.

“Enjoy your tea,” Jimin said quietly, before turning around to leave.

Only letting yourself gaze at the retreating figure for a second, you carefully placed down the tea and scuttled down to your stall. There, you picked out the brightest, yet richest, yellow coreopsis that you had.

It happened similarly to the last time; you calling out Jimin’s name, him turning around to be faced with a large, round, scented thing so close to his nose that it tickled.

“Yellow coreopsis: cheerfulness.”

Jimin’s eyebrows furrowed as he plucked it from your fingers and inspected the small beauty. He looked up towards you, whose smile matched the flower almost exactly.

“And, well, I think you need cheering up, so- yeah, here.”

Jimin’s eyes flittered down to the flower. His eyelashes were thick and long, fanning over the sunny petals. He leaned down and breathed in the scent. Warm stripes of brown cut through the black veil of his lashes as he looked back up at you. “Thank you,” he said with true sincerity, eyes glittering.

You just smiled because, hell, somehow you have moved from Nice to Extra Nice, to Downright Happy.

You sighed happily as you remembered your sweet grandmother. Whenever you visited her, you would carry, hobble, and walk her out into the back garden where rows and rows of flowers blossomed from the soil. As a young child, the smells and colours made you one of the happiest kids around. Somehow, though your grandmother knew that it was more than just the aesthetics.

The clouds today were high and the air was dense.

The petit man cradling a cup of tea appeared yet again today, only this time, his eyes were dulled with a shroud of darkness and his lips had been sewn with a certain downturn that alerted your conscience.

“You’re stressed,” you stated because it was true. Jimin’s foot was shifting restlessly against the stone pavement and his first fingertip of his right hand was tapping rhythmic patterns against his bicep. His eyes flitted from places to place.

Jimin looked surprised at your words. Finally, focusing his eyes on you, he looked almost relieved. A sigh heaved from his body and his shoulders slumped into slopes for his stress to tumble down.

“Yeah,” he said, voice raspy, “I really am.”

You leaned back and took a sip of the tea. Jimin pushed his fringe off his face, body still tense, as your eyes searched his form noncommittally. “Anything I can help with?”

Jimin smiled wryly and glances up the street. “If you can perform instead of me at my dance recital tomorrow evening, then yeah, you can help me.”

You scrunched your face up and feigned thought. “Just give me time to put some shoes on my knees, straighten my hair, and re-watch the High School Musical series, then yeah, I think I might just be able to help.”

Jimin’s mouth cracked opens into a humoured smile. His eyebrows raised involuntarily and his eyes ignited with the fizzle of peace.  Unable to hide his glee, a giggle bubbled from in between your lips.

Once Jimin’s laughter has spiraled out, he shook his head at you. His eyes were lighter than before. A twist was still curled at the corner of his lips, and it was evident that his action was not done in a sardonic sense, more so disbelief.

“You’re sure are something, aren’t you?” he posed, although it was more of a statement than anything.

“Anything to help,” you replied with a shrug of your shoulders and an overzealous grin slicing in between your reddened lips like a white Amazon lily in between a flock of red celosia.

The two of you stared at each other, taking the time to let your eyes drawled over his soft features, memorising every line on his face.

“I should probably go,” he said, without any conviction whatsoever, “I’ve got coffee to pour and cookies to steal for later when I have my inevitable breakdown at two in the morning.”

“And I’ve got to pretend to preen the flowers even though I’ve already done it about ten times in the past hour.”

He smiled, “Sounds like hard work.”

“The hardest,” you answered, smirking through your smile.

The breeze whistled in the background as you two just stood there, staring and smiling quietly. After a moment, a while, Jimin spoke. His tone was soft and quiet, timid, almost. “Thank you.”

You merely smiled at him before you nipped around the other side of the stall, eyes roaming the many colours. Your fingers curled around the correct stems and pull them gently from their bouquet. Blanketing the two single flower stems with his heated palm, you meandered back around the stall and approached the still-waiting Jimin.

“Here,” you offered the two flowers to Jimin.

His eyes glanced down and swirled around the heads of the flowers. They flit back up to you before returning to the beauties, dusting the petals with his attention. “What do they mean?” he enquired.

“The iris is for inspiration and the black-eyed Susan is for encouragement. Thought you might need them.” you said, shrugging your shoulders and pressing your lips together, suddenly coming across somewhat shy.

“Thank you,” Jimin repeated, staring at you with great sincerity and true honesty. If his eyes were a smell, they would be vanilla frosting on cinnamon cupcakes; warm and comforting, true care and true kindness.

You smiled back and replied, “Good luck, Jimin.”

With a blink, a smile, and a nod, Jimin turned and wandered back into the coffee shop. And if you spent an inordinate amount of time staring at an iris and trying to figure out just what made it so Jimin-like, then, well, nobody has to know.

The Bookshop That Has (Almost) Everything

fun fact this is loosely based on a real bookshop I once found somewhere in greenwich idk exactly where it is but if ever find urself around the area look out for it its v cute and v tiny

summary: Phil works at a bookshop. Dan buys a book one day, and, in a ploy to see Phil, keeps returning with more and more obscure requests so Phil has to spend more time searching. After Dan leaves with ‘cactus maintenance: a memoir’, Phil starts to suspect something’s up.

words: 7.3k


“Look,” Phil sighs when he catches sight of the book Dan’s clutching today. “I know there’s a very good chance you keep cacti and you just wanna maintain them and it’s probably wrong of me to assume otherwise, but-…can I ask you something?”

Dan gulps, putting the book titled “Cactus Maintenance: A Memoir” down on the counter.

“Do you actually need half of the books you come in here for?” he asks softly. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, there’s a good chance you might actually ride motorcycles, study bricklaying, want to know more about frogspawn or- you know, wanna look after your cacti, but…” he shrugs. “I don’t know. It’s just- um, you’re the first person I’ve met that, you know, buys one book every single day. When do you get time to read them all?”



Graveland’s Books is the kind of place you’d only come across if you were either very bored, very desperate, or very lost.

It hides on the tail end of an alleyway just behind the village market, and the gnarled wooden beams, the glass oil lanterns lining either side of the aged brickwork and the rusty bronze bell hanging above the door would fool anyone into thinking they’d just stepped out of 2016 and into the 18th century. If it wasn’t for the mobile phone shop sitting directly opposite, of course.

It’s not big in size, with a staff room and an office the size of a postage stamp upstairs and just about enough room to fit two free standing bookshelves in the middle of the shop, but books spill into every single crack. Stacks and stacks of fiction and history and travel and biographies narrow the aisles between the shelves, and it’s all too easy to trip over a random pile of books in the middle of the floor when you’re not concentrating properly.

But, for a job running along the sidelines of university, Phil enjoys it. He’d certainly rather spend his time flicking through a story about a cursed mushroom than stack supermarket shelves and deal with obnoxious co-workers, anyway.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Heyy can I have 18 with Montgomery, fem reader thankss

thanks for requesting! i hope you enjoy x

#18: “You’re the pizza boy ? / ! / ?!”

It was Friday night, and so your family ordered pizza. You almost cheered when a knock at your door sounded. “I’ll get it!” You screamed to your family, grabbing the cash on the way.

You swung the door open, revealing the pizza boy, accompanied by the warm, delicious treat that would soon be invading your mouth.

“Monty?” You questioned, recognising the delivery boy as your friend, Montgomery, from school.

“Oh, hey Y/N.” He smiled, fixing his hat. “You live here, huh?”

“I think that’s why I’m here.” You joked, smiling up at the nervous boy. “How much do I owe you?”

“Uh, just $19.20 and a date tomorrow night.”

You paused your movements at his words. Did he just ask you out? You passed him the money, giving him a tip. “You can keep the change.” You smiled. “And you can pick me up at six.”

He chuckled, grinning. “Thanks, Y/N.” He handed you your pizza’s. “I’ll see you then.”

You nodded and bid your goodbye’s, closing the door behind you before running into the lounge room to give your family the pizza’s. You have a date with Monty?! You need to go prepare!

Lost || Oneshot

Originally posted by fyeahwonhui

Genre: Angst—> Fluff

Wonwoo x reader

You regret your actions towards those you have lost. 

He walked down the streets of Seoul late at night, he took in his surroundings or at least what he could see past his mask and cap. He saw couples, a lot of them, some of them with their children, some of them holding each other tight with smiles on their face. He remembered how good you were with children, his heart ached but he couldn’t help but feel joy at the memory of you. He was unhappy seeing the couples they reminded him too much of his better, happier self. He was supposed to be happy. He should be happy, was what they told him. He had it all the fame, money and the adoration of thousands of people. What more could he possibly want? But it wasn’t like that for him, he wasn’t one to prefer material things over those he cared for.

He couldn’t be happy because he didn’t have you anymore.

Don’t dwell on your past was what they told him when he would relapse to his saddened state; and hear your voice call out his name or your figure in the morning sunrise. Or when your favorite song would play as he listened to music. Too much reminded him of you, especially during his walk tonight. He couldn’t handle it tonight, he promised himself he would keep his composure. They usually never let him go out at night by himself because that’s when he would feel you the most. And tonight of all nights it was especially difficult for the twelve boys to be convinced to let him go, but they understood he might need some alone time when they saw the redness and dark circles under his eyes; so they let him. He scrolled through his phone looking at pictures of you, pictures that he couldn’t bring himself to delete even if he had told the boys he did because he had to erase every trace of you.

He couldn’t forget you. No matter how much he told others he did because in all honesty he wasn’t trying to forget you, he was trying to cling onto the memory of you. It was sad really, he had always been quiet and he often kept to himself but it never was to this extent, he was a lively person and his laugh was music to people’s ears. But it was all gone, any trace of the happy person he once was. When you left so did his happiness, his emotions, any ability he had to keep from being quiet. He stopped reading too, he hadn’t touched a single book in three months, he couldn’t bring himself to do so and escape to a made up world because that world wouldn’t be filled with you.

He continued walking, one hand in his long pea coat that kept his body somewhat warm and one hand on his phone. He walked through the busy streets of Myeongdong, your favorite place to go to in Seoul, as he readjusted the glasses that sat on the bridge of his nose so he could focus on where he was going. He smiled as he saw what he was looking for and where he was heading to, it was a favorite coffee shop of yours. He looks into the window of the cafe and the owner smiles at him, she felt bad for the heartbroken boy so she’d give him a free coffee here and there. He hadn’t really liked that place before but he learned to adore that place after you, he found himself heading in there quite often to fill his emptiness with anything that reminded him of you, you who was miles away. The bell on the door of the cafe rang as he entered, he sat at the same back table you always dragged him to sit at. He placed his phone down and took off his coat and glasses, before he could get up to order your regular order the owner placed two cups and a small red velvet cake at the end of the table.

He smiled up at the older women, that reminded him of his mother, “Thank you m'am, how much do I owe you?”

“Nothing son, you’ve been coming here mostly every day for the past three months. It’s on the house.” She smiled warmly at the boy who seemed to be on the verge of falling apart any minute.

“Thank you.” He said bowing his head slightly. It was scary to see him like that, the once joy filled boy whose smile could light up the world(as you’d like to say), no longer smile because he lost his world.

Three months. It had been three months since he lost you and it was all his fault because he let you. Three months since he heard your voice or saw your soft complexion that made his heart skip a beat. He let you go and he was in a pit of despair, all fraile and weak. Heartbroken would be an understatement, he was nothing without you, he couldn’t live without you. He didn’t want this feeling, he thought he would’ve have felt less alone than he did when he was with you but he was wrong. You were always the one who feared how wrecked you’d end up when it ended, he promised it would never happen, it wasn’t true though because here he was three months after it all ended feeling completely destroyed and lost beyond compare.

You? You were fine he assumed, you didn’t say much when it was done you stayed quiet, nodded your head, collected your things and left. It was odd because you were so heartbroken you wanted to yell, you wanted to scream, you wanted to sob uncontrollably; but you couldn’t. You were always strong in your emotions when it came time to show them because you hardly did. You left god knows where; he texted, he called trying to tell you he took back what he told you that rainy night. But you didn’t pick up, you never saw any of his messages: you didn’t want to. You left them untouched as you tried to forget. Tried to forget how he broke your heart when he promised he would never.

You thought you wouldn’t return but here you were, back in Korea after three months at home, trying to heal and find yourself after being so lost. It wasn’t until tonight that you opened all those voicemails and texts from him and from the twelve boys, telling you to come back, that it was all a mistake. Even Mingyu who wasn’t that close to you because he was jealous over all the attention his best friend was giving you, found himself standing at your door a couple of days after it happened begging you and constantly ringing your phone so you would come back because Wonwoo was so screwed up, he had lost any sense of being.

Y/N I’m sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…
I thought I was doing it for you, but god am I wrecked…
Im sorry. I can’t live without you…
Pick up the phone Y/N…
Why won’t you open the door? I’m ringing your doorbell…
Why are there stacks of newspapers on your front porch? Where did you go? Don’t leave me…
It’s been a month Y/N. I take that shit back, I’d rather us not see each other everyday but be together than be nothing at all…
Y/N please…
Two months today, I lost 7 kg, the boys are worried they want you to come back too, come back to me…
Y/N I’m heading to your favorite coffee shop again, the owner keeps asking about you. She named a drink after you, you know. She says your the brightest person she’s met. She’s not wrong…
Please Y/N I’m lost without you…
I don’t want this feeling. Where are you? Come back baby…
I’ll be waiting for you, whenever you decide, the back right corner like always…

You went through voicemail after voicemail, text after text. You heard over two months worth of calls and read over hundreds of texts. You were completely shattered, why did he have to do this? He was supposed to be fine, you were the wrecked one. But he wasn’t fine and neither were you. He hurt you and made your heart ache. He had told you it’d be best if you two ended it and went your separate ways in order to find yourselves, but you couldn’t. It was just worse you didn’t know what to do but miss him more and more, more than you missed him when you wouldn’t see each other for months on end because he’d be touring in japan or some other country. You couldn’t live without each other, so tonight after three months of pain and loneliness you found yourself in the same busy streets of Myeongdong. You were thinner and you had lost the glow you carried, a dullness surrounded your form. A thick jacket was draped over your frame and a mask covered your red nose in the cold.

You had walked towards your favorite coffee shop, the same coffee shop that you had walked past three times already, you were hesitant as to whether or not you should enter. You were afraid that’s he would be in there; you were scared that the boy you loved deeply, who barely showed emotions, was completely destroyed by you. But you were also scared he wasn’t and you’d find yourself quite disappointed and saddened because a big part of you wanted to believe that he wouldn’t forget about you and move on.

“He’ll be in there Y/N. Trust me, he left by himself tonight because when he’s with us he doesn’t go in there to keep up with the ‘I’m fine’ facade. But Seungcheol has seen him in there multiple times when he goes to buy chicken for all of us and he takes longer than usual.”

His best friends voice rang in the back of your head. You swept the strand of hair that was sticking to your forehead aside and mustered all the courage you could to go in. The bell on the door rang as you walked in and the familiar scent of coffee hit you suddenly. You looked around, taking in your surroundings, until your eyes wandered to the boy with the black cap that sat at your table. He was fiddling with the mug in his hands and you couldn’t help to notice a mug in front of him and your favorite pastry beside him. You decided to walk toward the boy as an indescribable amount of emotions and thoughts flooded your head.

When he noticed a figure walk closer to where he was sitting he finally decided to look up. He figured it was his mind playing games with him when he first saw you so he didn’t have much of a reaction. It wasn’t until he heard his name escape your lips did he believe you weren’t an allusion. He reached out to touch your arm, you were here after three months. He stood up, the chair he sat at scraping on the floor as he pushed himself off rapidly, and engulfed you in his arms.

“Y/N…” you heard his voice crack.
“I know…I know.” You replied.
He took you all in, your scent filled his nose and he was in a euphoric state. Tears slid down your cheek as you felt the warmness of his body, you were home.
“I’m sorry.  I regret it all since that day.”
“Wonwoo…” you began sobbing quietly as he rubbed circles on your back.      “I was so lost without you, I’ve missed you Wonwoo.”                                         “I never want to lose you again, Y/N. I can’t live without you.”

So you two stood there in each others arms after months of being lost, you were both finally found.

Authors Note: Something i wrote on the quicks, hope you enjoyed it. Btw make sure to send in your requests!

My Hero - James McAvoy x Reader

Prompt: can you do one with the are you flirting with me prompt from that list you posted with james mcavoy? maybe you guys meet at a party or something???

A/N: Yess! Love McAvoy! - this was originally part of the Christmas thing i was doing but I missed the posting day, then it was going to be posted New Years Eve but I hadn’t finished it so… here it is! Hope you like it!

Originally posted by endingthemes

It was New Year’s Eve; once again you were planning to spend it at home, alone. That was the way you liked it, your friends didn’t seem to understand even though you had told them countless times. You just couldn’t work out why one of them was stood at your door, waiting for you to get ready to go out.

“Come on Y/N!” Your best friend pleaded, hands on your shoulders and a desperate look in their eyes. “Please? I’ll be fun, I promise!”
You stood there for a moment, running through your options. As far as you could tell, you had two. The first, go out, meet up with the rest of your friends and bring in the New Year surrounded by the people you love. The second would be to say no thanks and go back to the film you were trying to watch. “Fine, give me ten!” you reluctantly gave in, allowing your friend to enter while you went to get changed out of your pyjamas.
“Yes!” your friend cheered, “I knew I could get you to cave.”
You shook your head as you walked away; they always knew how to wrap you around their finger.

Once you were ready, the two of you called for a taxi and headed off to the bar to meet up with the rest of your friends. You had barely even walked through the door when another one of your friends had come bouncing up to you and put a drink in your hand.
“Y/N! I’m so glad you decided to come!” She shouted. The music was so loud it was almost impossible to hear anything.
“Yeah, well I figured it was time for a change in tradition” you responded at a similar volume.

Hours passed, you were being bought drinks left right and centre. You hadn’t even been up to the bar yet and you’d had too many drinks to count. “I’m getting the next round in, what do you want?” your best friend asked.
“No, no you’re not, I haven’t been up to the bar once! I’m going!” you insisted.
“If you say so!” they replied before listing everyone’s order.

You went up to the bar and put in your order. You were waiting for the bartender to pour the last few drinks when you spotted him. As far as you were aware, he hadn’t seen you but you continued to stare at him. He was just so…. handsome.
“Here’s your drinks” the bartender interrupted your thought.
“Great thanks, how much do I owe you?” you replied reaching into your bag for your purse.
“Nothing, that guy paid for them” he pointed to the handsome man opposite you who looked up, smiling and winked at you. You smiled back and nodded a thank you, picking up the tray of drinks.

You walked back to your friends carefully, trying not to spill anything.
“Okay guys” you shouted as you approached them, “here we go!” One by one, your friends collected their drinks, leaving just yours on the tray. You picked it up with your free hand and placed the tray down on the nearest table. “Hey, I’m just going to go get some fresh air” you said into the ear of the friend closest to you, gesturing to the door.
“You want some company?” they asked.
“No, no I’m good thanks. I won’t be long” you smiled and headed for the door.

You stood outside, thinking about everything that had happened that year and how in just a matter of hours it would all be behind you. The New Year was fast approaching.
“Fancy seeing you out here” said an unfamiliar voice.
“Sorry, are you talking to me?!” you questioned as you span around. “Oh, it’s you!” you smiled at the man who had paid for your drinks.
“Sorry, is it a bit weird that I followed you out here?” he asked.
“Well it wasn’t, but it is now” you laughed.
“I’m James, by the way” he smiled.
“Well James, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Y/N”
“Believe me, the pleasure is all mine”

You began to shiver. Unsure of whether it was due to his immense charm or the cold December wind, you ignored it.
“Are you cold?” he asked. “Why didn’t you bring a coat, surely by now you know how cold it is in December” he said taking off his jacket. “Here, take mine” he draped his jacket over your shoulders.
“Thank you” you smiled, “you truly are my hero!” you added with a hint of sarcasm.
He laughed. “You’re most welcome”
“Oh, also I never thanked you properly for the drinks, you really didn’t need to do that”
“How else was I going to get your attention?” he asked, “Besides, now you have to see me again to return the favour” he had a Cheshire Cat like grin on his face.
“James, are you flirting with me?” you asked in disbelief.
“I believe I am indeed flirting with you” he responded.
“Okay fine, I’ll tell you what, if you’re sober enough to put your number in my phone, I will agree to go out with you and buy you that drink” you smiled. He gestured for you to hand over your phone, you unlocked it and did so.

He began typing in the number, “there” he announced triumphantly, “done!”
“How do I know that’s your number?” you asked. Before you could finish your sentence completely, he had pressed dial. Moments later, his phone began to ring. He took it out of his pocket to show you and indeed, your number was on his screen. “Well I guess that settles it then” you smiled.
“Why don’t you let me call you instead” he proposed.
“Okay” you whispered with a smile. You took your phone back from him and looked at the time. “Shit, I’d better get back to my friends” you began to take his jacket off your shoulders.
“Keep it on” he stopped you, placing a hand on your shoulder. “I’ll come and find you at midnight; you can give it me back then.”
You dropped your head slightly; you could feel yourself going red. You lifted your head back up and nodded in agreement.

Walking away from him, you couldn’t help but smile. You made your way back over to your friends.
“Hey, where’ve you been!” your best friend asked, “and who’s jacket is that?!”
“You’ll find out” you smiled.

Sure enough Midnight rolled around; everyone was clinking glasses to the New Year. You began looking around the room for any sign of James, but you couldn’t see him anywhere. Before you could come to the conclusion that he wasn’t going to show up, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders from behind.
“Can I have my jacket back please” he chuckled.
“I was beginning to think you had left” you responded.
“What, without seeing you again, I don’t think so” he smiled. “Happy New Year, Y/N” he said in a low voice, placing a kiss on your cheek.
“Happy New Year, James.”

A Study in You (Sherlock Holmes x Reader)

A/N: Why aren’t there more pieces set in the time of The Abominable Bride?? I absolutely loved it, probably due to my love for the Sherlock Holmes books and stories themselves. Anyway, I wanted to write one with 19th century Sherlock and John! I hope you all enjoy it! xx 

Warnings: mentions of drug use

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

The cobbled streets of London were crowded with busy people and lazy buggies. Horses clomped along the broken Baker Street, dirty boys shouted about the latest Dr. Watson story, and women under brightly colored parasols gossiped about the reclusive and handsome detective, Sherlock Holmes. 

You quickly made your way down the cracked pavement, your own parasol hanging from your arm. The sun was out but it was hidden by a dense layer of smog. The buildings lining Baker Street were covered in a veil of soot that eventually stuck to everyone and everything. When you reached the recently polished door of 221 Baker Street, the hem of your lilac colored dress was black with soot. You grumbled to yourself as you banged the knocker three times against the black door. 

Quick footsteps could be heard, a crash of what sounded like dinner plates, and a muffled yell before the door swung open with such force that the knocker banged against the door. A rather disheveled man with an obnoxious mustache was standing in the doorway. His breathing was heavy as he attempted to smooth down his hair and fix his beige vest. It took a moment but you recognized the mustache.

“Dr. Watson,” you said with a grin, extending a gloved hand, “I’m (Y/N) and I’m here to get Mr. Holmes’ help.”

Dr. Watson took your hand and shook it cautiously. “Women don’t usually shake hands,” he said innocently, clearly in shock by your out-of-place gesture.

“A curtsy dirties the dress and a kiss wrinkles the glove. A shake is quicker and easier,” you replied curtly.

“I meant no offense, Madam, I apologize.”

“No offense taken, Doctor. May I consult Mr. Holmes?”

Dr. Watson swallowed hard at this question and ran a hand through his hair. “Now is not the best time. The detective is in one of his.. erm.. moods. Shall I send you a telegram once he’s straightened out?”

As if he had been called to dinner, Mr. Holmes in a royal purple smoking jacket and no shoes or stockings came flying down the stairs. He towered behind Dr. Watson who now looked simply perplexed. “John, I knew it was a client at the door so why haven’t you brought her up yet?”

Mr. Holmes was wild eyed and a strand of his oiled hair fell across his face. “I don’t believe you are fit to be taking clients at the moment. Your feet aren’t quite on the ground,” Dr. Watson said tight lipped.

To this, Mr. Holmes pushed his hair out of his face, buttoned his smoking jacket, and bent forward into a deep bow, extending his hand to you. “How may I be of assistance, Miss?”

You took Mr. Holmes’ hand and gave it a strong shake, to the surprise of the detective as well. “I may have a case for you, Mr. Holmes,” you say assuredly. 

“My, you’re a case in yourself. A woman who shakes and does not curtsy.” Mr. Holmes’ ice blue gaze examined you from head to foot. You could almost hear the wheels turning in his head as he learned everything about you. Gripping your parasol tightly, you began to grow nervous under his stare. In Dr. Watson’s stories you had read about him doing this but it was a completely different experience actually having it happen. 

“Sherlock, could you not make the woman uncomfortable, for God’s sake?” John said, looking at you apologetically.

You quickly shook your head and took a step towards the door. “It’s quite alright, Dr. Watson,” you said, failing to sound convincing. 

Mr. Holmes took one more look of you, up and down, before clenching his strong jaw and turning on his heel. “Follow,” he said monotonously. John stepped out of the doorway and gestured with a hand up the stairs. You cautiously stepped over the threshold and began to climb the narrow wooden stairs.   

“Oh, Sherlock, look at the mess you’ve made,” you hear an older woman shrill from the top of the stairs. You step into the dimly lit sitting area of 221B and find a small woman picking up the pieces of what used to be a tea cup. You were close. 

“Mrs. Hudson, you were in need of a new set anyhow. And please don’t fuss while I have a client,” Mr. Holmes said rather harshly. You were taken aback by how he treated the kind looking woman. 

“Don’t talk to me like that, Mister. I’d have the right mind to send a telegram your brother,” she snapped back before turning to you with a warm smile. “Good morning deary, shall I get you a spot of tea?” 

You grinned back at her and said, “No, thank you, ma’am. I don’t imagine I’ll be here long. I must say, I expected you to answer the door.”

The smile instantly disappeared from Mrs. Hudson’s face and she turned to Dr. Watson with a glare that could kill. All color drained from the army doctor’s face as Mrs. Hudson stomped past him, slamming the door behind her. “She’s not a fan of the stories,” he laughed nervously. 

“Please, sit,” Mr. Holmes piped up, dragging a chair in front of two cushioned chairs. Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes took their respective seats and left you at the center of attention. You slowly took your seat, trying to figure out what to say first. 

Ringing your parasol in your gloved hands, you began, “It’s my brother, he’s gone missing.” You paused, looking between the two men. Dr. Watson sat with legs crossed, hands folded in his lap, and a kind expression on his kind face. Mr. Holmes also sat with legs crossed but his elbows were propped on the arms of his chair, finger tips together and touching his lips. He wore an unreadable expression but gave you a slight nod, prompting you to continue. “He left for America about 3 months ago, expecting to return 2 months ago. My father insisted I not worry about it but it has been 2 months with not so much as a whisper of his whereabouts.”

“Why did your brother leave for America?” Dr. Watson asked formally.

Before you could open your mouth, Mr. Holmes interjected with an outrageous accusation, “He was running from someone.”

“While I live and breath, of course not. My brother was loved by everyone he met. He went to America on business.”

“What business then?” Mr. Holmes smirked at you as if he knew something you did not. 

“Well, I don’t know. Father only said it was business. He claimed a lady had no use knowing,” you say through gritted teeth. 

“You’re brother was running from someone. He hasn’t returned or made contact, to your knowledge, because it is still unsafe. Your family just recently came into a lot of money, am I right?”

Your jaw dropped but you quickly shut your mouth and gained your bearings. “Y..Yes.”

“And what did your father tell you the reason was?”

“An aunt died and left the family everything she had.”

“An aunt you’ve never heard of no doubt. No, that is not what happened. You’re quite worried about the soot about your dress, clearly new, and you don’t use the parasol. Clearly, you weren’t raised to use one. Also, you shake rather than curtsy or accept a kiss, startling signs that you grew up in a poor home of men. You’re uncomfortable with this new lifestyle and are angered by the change in manner your father has toward you. I’m sure your brother is fine in America, but if you so desire, I can look into it.”

You were stunned. It was one thing to read the unbelievable stories of Dr. Watson’s but it was surreal to be living it. Mr. Holmes spoke with such swiftness, his deep, smooth voice sounding so matter-of-fact yet reassuring. You couldn’t help but believe him. “No,” you said, your voice sounding distant, “I believe you. Thank you, Mr. Holmes.”

Both Dr. Watson and Mr. Holmes stared at you in bewilderment. “You’re the only client that has accepted my word as gospel so quickly,” Mr. Holmes breathed. “John, close your mouth.” Dr. Watson quickly closed his mouth and looked away in embarrassment. 

“Well, it only makes sense, Mr. Holmes. Everything you said makes sense. You’re right, I am rather uncomfortable with the sudden shift. And no, Mr. Holmes, I don’t wish to take up anymore of your time.” Mr. Holmes swallowed nervously. He didn’t say anything, he just stared. He stared at your face, studied it. All you could do was blink at him, frozen under his intense gaze. “You’re extraordinary,” you whispered, enamored by his blue eyes and sharp features. 

Mr. Holmes quickly looked away and what you could only assume was a blush rose to his cheeks. You too looked down, embarrassed you had said that aloud. “How much do I owe you for your time?” you asked in a hushed voice.

“Nothing,” Mr. Holmes said quickly, standing up in a rush. 

“Oh, well… Thank you, Mr. Holmes, for your…”

“Sherlock, please,” he interrupted, extending a hand to you to help you to your feet. 

You took it, in a daze. “Thank you, Sherlock.” His name slid like honey from your tongue. Your chest tightened as he bent forward and placed a ginger kiss to the back of your hand. His eyes locked on your’s the entire time. You didn’t even stop him. You couldn’t. You had been so adamant on rebelling against being “lady-like” but Sherlock Holmes made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside. Your brain seemed to be on the fritz. 

“I hope I don’t wrinkle the glove,” his smooth voice said with a smirk. 

You felt your cheeks grow hot and you couldn’t help but let out a small laugh. “To hell with the glove.”

Sherlock smiled down at you, a deep laugh rising in his throat. His eyes crinkled as he smiled and his smile lit up his face. It was contagious. “Shall I take you to the door, (Y/N)?”

“I can find my way out, Sherlock, but thank you,” you said before turning to Dr. Watson. He was still sat in his chair, looking at the pair of you with an expression as if he had witnessed a murder. “Dr. Watson?”

He shook the expression from his face and stood up, straightening his vest. “Apologies, I was.. uh… lost in thought,” he stammered, extending his hand. You took it in a firm shake and beamed at him. “I hope your brother is alright.”

“Thank you, Dr. Watson,” you replied. “Goodbye, gentlemen.” You turned on your heel and opened the door to the stairs. 

“I wish to see you again,” Sherlock said in a nervous manner. You paused in the doorway and turned slowly to see the detective, his face a deep crimson, standing with a hand slightly outstretched towards you. “Um, to follow up on your brother, of course,” he concluded, clasping his hands behind his back and setting his face with a nonchalant expression. 

You grinned at him before saying, “I wish to see you again, as well, Sherlock.” His face softened and you nodded at Dr. Watson. “Until next time.” You turned and descended the stairs, your heart threatening to fly from your chest. 

John turned to Sherlock as soon as he heard the door shut behind you. He let out a belly laugh and clasped a hand on Sherlock’s shoulder. “What a story this case would make! Emotionless Detective Can’t Stop Staring! Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Girl That Stole His Heart!” 

Sherlock simply cocked his head toward his giggling companion and said, “I thought you were good at titles.” Leaving John to bask in the euphoria of seeing Sherlock loose control of his feelings, the detective walked towards the chair that you had occupied only moments before. He dragged his fingertips along the back of the chair and smiled to himself. “Until next time,” he whispered. 

A/N: I’m sorry for how long it is! I’m thinking of a part two for this one as I’m working on a part two for “What Do You Know About Babies?”!! Let me know what you think and send in your requests!! xx

Lancea Longini #14

Summary: Modern-day AU where Steve is a college professor whose specialty is WWII. You work for Stark Industries and after leading an excavation of Hitler’s secret bunker, you find an object that was thought to be a legend.
Characters: Clint Barton, Steve Rogers, Female Reader, Nick Fury, & Ellie (Original Child Character)
Word Count: 1,812
Warnings: Language, fluff, talk of parent dying 
Author’s Note: I know, I’m horrible. It’s been months since I’ve written Professor Steve. But fear not, here is a chapter. 
Miss the beginning?  Other images found on Google. GIF credit [x][x]

If you hadn’t been leaning against the counter, you would have fallen to the floor. “Ok… yeah. So she, umm, she did… is she -,” you choked on your words.

Steve disconnected with Clint and ran over. “What’s going on, baby?” he whispered as he kissed your forehead. All you could do was shake your head, listening to the man on the phone.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. We did everything we could, but we were unable to save her.”

You swallowed thickly, able to rid your voice of just enough emotion to finish the conversation. “What do you need to release the body?”

“We will need an identification and some forms signed.”

“Send me a picture and if I’ve identified her, I’ll give you my email to send the forms. Once signed, I’ll send them back. Does that work?” You grabbed Steve’s shirt, scraping your nails on his side as you fisted the cotton blend shirt.

“Yes ma’am. I will send a picture. I am sorry for your loss,” genuine concern was thick on his tongue.

“Thank you,” you barely got the words out before the realization of your sister’s death hit you like a fucking freight train.

The next couple of weeks were emotional and stressful, and by far,  the hardest thing you’ve endured since your father died, but with the help of Steve, Nat, and Bucky, you and Ellie got through it. Without them, you don’t know how you would have made it. Your own grief threatened to consume you, but you had no choice but to get through it; because of Ellie.

Ellie handled the loss of her mother as you had expected; a lot of tears, confusion, and anger. She even asked if that meant she had to live with another family.

“What do you mean, Bug?”

Her grip on your hand was so tight, you wouldn’t have been surprised to see bruises. “Those families that take in kids that aren’t theirs, the ones nobody wants anymore.”

Your chest went tight with a barely contained sob. “Baby, no. You’re not going anywhere, I promise.”

“How do you know?” she implored, tears dripping off her cheeks and chin.

Sniffling and biting the inside of your cheek, you cupped her wet face in your hands and kissed her forehead. “Do you know what a Last Will and Testament is?” When she shook her head, you pulled in a shuddering breath. “A will is a legal document that someone puts together for when they-” the word got stuck in your throat, threatening to choke you.

“You can say it, Y/N,” her voice was tiny and tremulous.

Tears pricked your eyes and you smiled sadly. “For when they die.”

Dark chocolate eyes bored into yours. “Did mommy have one?”

“Yeah, bug, she did,” you answered, stroking her cheek with the back of your hand.

Ellie nodded and furrowed her brows as she thought, her eyes darting around the room. “Who get’s me?”

“El, it’s not like that.” She nodded once, biting her bottom lip in anticipation for your answer to her question. You tried answering in a way that wouldn’t make it sound like she was an object, that she was a human being, but all you could think of was, “You’re not some thing to give away, ok? How would you like to come and stay with me?”

Red-rimmed eyes went wide and she gasped. “Forever?”

“As long as you want to, bug.”

Ellie launched herself into your arms and started crying again. Small fingers tangled in your hair as you rocked side to side on her bed, your arms tight around her, crying almost as much as she was.

“You mean it?”

“Pinkie promise.”

Along with becoming Ellie’s legal guardian -paperwork had been signed by you, your lawyer, and a judge- Brenda left you everything. From the house in the Hamptons to the engagement ring Ellie’s father had presented when asking for her hand in marriage. There was also a sizable inheritance in Ellie’s name, one she couldn’t access until she was 21.

The entire estate was now in your name. No pressure.

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anonymous asked:

The characters: Vegeta and Bulma. AU: Future/sci-fi. Setting: Vegeta has a hardcore crush on Bulma and finally gets the guts to express it to her. It doesn't go as planned.

Vegeta walked into the tiny repair shop and stood in front of the counter, removing his dirty white gloves and ringing the bell.

“I’ll be there in a second!” A loud, feminine voice yelled from the back room, accompanied by a string of ear-piercing, strident noises. “Son of a…! Damn it!” The woman roared.

The Prince chuckled at the crazy sounds that resonated throughout the small shop. He couldn’t help but be amused by Bulma’s antics, always fascinated by her each and every move, whether it was seeing her small but curvy body bent over as she was fixing one of the planet’s many space pods or simply wiping off the sweat from her creamy forehead with the back of her hand…

“Hey, Vegeta! What’s up?” She said cheerfully, leaning on the counter with one hand and taking a large gulp from a cold drink with the other, offering him a fantastic glimpse of her generous cleavage at the same time.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, inwardly cursing himself for his complete and utter inability to talk like a regular person whenever the Earth woman was around. Ever since they’d met, about four months earlier, when he’d brought her one of his broken scouters, he’d found himself fabricating excuse after excuse in order to be able to run into her, his body constantly begging him to spend time with the stunning woman. Her bright blue eyes and matching long wavy hair were the first thing that had caught his attention, together with her extremely evident intelligence and vivid personality. She was funny, as cute as a button and yet, at times, she possessed a tongue and temper that could put any Saiyan to shame.  

“Are you alright?” Bulma softly asked, frowning in concern. “Are you here to pick up your scouter?”

Vegeta nodded gracelessly, feeling his rough hands tensely clutch the border of the chipped wooden counter.

“Alright…” She continued, still feeling like there was something wrong with him today. “Let me go get it!”

She turned around, getting back inside the back room with a pair of very starving Saiyan eyes fixed on her graceful movements. As soon as she left the room, Vegeta banged his fist on the counter, squeezing his eyes shut in frustration.

‘What the Hell was wrong with him? Since when did a puny, insignificant female have this effect on him? She should be the one feeling nervous! No! Grateful! That’s right! She should be feeling fucking grateful that an extraordinary warrior such as himself had chosen her as a future mate…’

Today was supposed to be the day.

He’d been planning it for days, ever since he’d abandoned the planet to go on his last mission two weeks ago. It had turned out to be one of the most dangerous tasks Frieza had assigned him and his comrades to do. Before he parted, he’d picked up his newly repaired armor from Bulma’s shop and, later, he’d had to battle the bastards from the planet he’d been ordered to purge while he carried her sweet, unmistakable scent all over him. It had been both intoxicating and maddening, and he’d finally had the courage to acknowledge to himself what he’d been afraid had happened ever since he’d first laid eyes on the woman: he’d fallen in love with her.

He’d fallen for this weak, fragile creature whose planet, and most of her entire race, had been destroyed by his evil Master no more than six months ago. And yet, her brave spirit and exuberant personality had remained untouched, luring him like a moth to a flame.

No other woman would do.

He was supposed to leave on a mission in less than twenty-four hours, and he couldn’t leave without a promise: her promise that she would be his and his alone, and that she’d be waiting for him when he’d return from his latest duty.

“There you go!” She said proudly, sitting casually on top of the counter, right next to him, and handing him the scouter.

He took it, making a phenomenal effort not to let his hands shake at his uneasiness.

“Thank you,” he finally managed to reply in a low, uncomfortable voice.

“Um, you’re welcome…”

Bulma could see him fidgeting with the small device, something unusual in a man that had always been so strong, proud and confident, and she couldn’t shake off the feeling that something was bothering him.

They both shared an uncomfortable silence for a minute before Bulma attempted to break the ice a little.

“It’s strange, you know?”

“What’s strange?” He answered immediately, secretly grateful for the woman’s natural chattiness.

“Well… Your scouter… It wasn’t really, you know… It wasn’t really broken.”


“It wasn’t?”

“Nope. It worked well, the only thing wrong with it were a couple of pieces missing. It was as if someone had just removed them…”

He knew it, the woman was too damn smart for her own good and, of course, that’s why he’d fallen so hard for her.

“I temporarily lent it to one of my comrades,” he lied.

“Really? Which one?”


“Nappa… That’s the bald one, right?”


“I see…” She replied unconvinced. “Well… I’d say your comrade must have been the one to take those missing pieces…”

She jumped from the counter, landing on the floor and walking towards a small sink in the corner of the room. She grabbed a small white cloth, dampening it and wringing out the excess water as she proceeded to remove several grease stains from her smooth ivory skin.

“Where’s the human male?” He finally asked, almost hypnotized by her elegant actions.

“Uh?” Bulma replied distractedly. “You mean Yamcha?”

The Prince grunted.

“Oh, he doesn’t work here anymore. He’s too… You know… I guess ‘clumsy’ would be the right word,” she snickered, shaking her head. “Now he’s a cook in a restaurant downtown.”

Vegeta couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow at that. “A cook?”

Bulma laughed.

“Well… That’s what he says… To tell you the truth, I’m sure he’s more like a kitchen helper, or even a dishwasher. You know Yamcha, almost everything he says is a lie or some kind of exaggeration…”

“So, you’re not mates anymore?” Vegeta asked cautiously, the question making Bulma raise her head in shock.

“Mates?” She asked wide-eyed.

“Yes, mates… You know, like…”

“Like a boyfriend?”

“Is that how it’s called in your planet?”

“I guess… You mean like a partner, right? Like a couple?”

“That is correct.”

“Gods, no! Ugh! No!” She replied, horrified. “I mean, I thought he was cute when I met him, and it was nice to find a few people from my home planet in here but… No… He’s just not for me…”

The Prince walked towards her, standing by her side as she kept grooming herself, and thinking that this could finally be his window of opportunity.

“I see… And why is that?” He asked casually.

Bulma looked at him for an instant, blinking a few times and tilting her head to the side thoughtfully.

“I don’t know… Well, obviously, he lies a lot, so he’s not very trustworthy, which is a huge turn off in a guy. But he’s also, kind of… I guess the right word is soft.”


“Yeah…” She shrugged, going back to her task and languidly rubbing the cloth across her neck.

Vegeta smirked triumphantly.

Oh yeah, he knew just what kind of a man this little female needed…

“So, what you’re saying is, you are looking for a man who is strong.”

“Um, I guess? I mean, I’m not even really looking for a…”

“Like a Saiyan Prince,” he declared solemnly.

His words made Bulma instantly drop her cloth and look at him in complete shock. One look at him told her he was dead serious.


“Ve-Vegeta, I…” Before she could find the right words to reject his proposal, the warrior gently held her pale hand between his much larger ones.

“Bulma,” he said with an intensity she had never witnessed in any man before. “If you take me as your mate I swear, on my Saiyan honor, to protect and cherish you, fighting your battles by your side, for all Eternity.”

Bulma felt her legs tremble, her pulse racing while this man, the most attractive man she’d ever known, basically asked her to marry him.

‘Why? And, why today, of all days?’

She wanted to say yes, more than anything she’d ever wanted in her entire life, but she couldn’t, not when she was so damn close…

Tonight was the night she was about to escape the planet in search of the mythical magic Dragon Balls that would allow her, if the legends turned out to be true, to wish her home planet and its inhabitants back to life once again.

She couldn’t do it.

She couldn’t give up on her biggest dream for man, especially not for a ruthless warrior that possibly had no real concept of what love truly was and would probably end up breaking her poor little heart eventually anyway.

“Vegeta,” she sighed. “I… I really appreciate your proposal and… It’s, it’s very, very tempting but… I just can’t accept,” she finally replied, kindly removing her now very sweaty hand from his own. If she kept feeling his warm touch much longer, she didn’t trust herself.

The Saiyan let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.

Well, he hadn’t seen this one coming…

He cleared his throat and raised his chin proudly in a pathetic attempt to hide his humiliation.

“I see. May I ask why?” He enquired in the most neutral voice he could project.

“Well, uh… I’m leaving tonight, you see? My boss gave me a couple of weeks off and I’m going on a trip,” she lied.

She was going on a trip, alright, but her boss didn’t even know he’d never see her again after today, not that he’d notice anyway until she was long gone, since he barely spent any time in the small repair shop.

“A trip?”



“Um, uh, it’s this small planet called Namek. I’ve heard it’s really nice, and very similar to Earth…”

Vegeta squinted his eyes suspiciously, but chose to say nothing more. He’d had enough humiliation for a day anyway, so he walked towards the counter and grabbed his white gloves.

“How much do I owe you?” He asked, still avoiding her gaze, unable to stand her pity.

“Uh, you know what? This one’s on the house!” She replied.

She tried to appear joyful, but deep down she felt heartbroken, not just for him, but for herself as well. It was hard to believe but, suddenly she felt the strong urge to throw caution to the wind and say yes to this enigmatic, handsome Saiyan warrior.

“I’m afraid I can’t accept that. Here,” he said, offering her a small black card. “You’ll need funds for your trip I suppose.”

Bulma just took the card, unwilling to start an argument with the man.

He nodded, his dark eyes penetrating her very soul, and he turned around, exiting the shop and walking away from her life.

“Woman,” he declared, still giving her his back. “You will never find a man more suited to be your mate.”

The earthling swallowed heavily.

“I don’t doubt it, Vegeta,” she whispered in all honesty.

He grunted in confirmation and disappeared into the crowd, leaving a very confused Bulma sitting heavily on a small chair and on the verge of tears.

‘What just happened?’

A few hours later, a mortified Saiyan Prince was still trying to bury his shame in alcohol.

“Pour me another! And leave the fucking bottle!” He yelled.

“Motherfucker…” Vegeta mumbled to himself while Nappa and Raditz kept staring in surprise, never having seen their Prince in such a poor state.

“That filthy fucking lizard motherfucker… I’m sick of this shit!” He yelled, slamming the glass against the table.

“Okay, I have to ask. Did something happen today, Vegeta?” Nappa finally enquired.

“Mind your own fucking business, baldy…”

“Come on, buddy, don’t be like that! We just got a sweet deal, you know?” The bigger man said, leaning a little into Vegeta. “Raditz just brought me the details of our next mission. We’re leaving tonight, and it looks like child’s play. Look… It’s this small planet called Namek, and apparently the inhabitants are really weak. There’s a bonus involved, and all we have to do is retrieve some…”

“The fuck did you just say?” Vegeta asked him in inebriated shock.

“A-About what?”

“The planet… What’s it called?”

“Um, Namek?”

“Sonofabitch…” The Prince slurred, smiling lazily.

‘Oh… This was so damn sweet it had to be fattening…’

He stood from his chair all of a sudden, drunkenly walking towards the exit door.

“Vegeta? What the fuck is going on?” Raditz asked in bewilderment at the sudden change of attitude in his Prince.

“Just pay for the drinks and let’s get the Hell out of this planet, asshole!”

Vegeta got out of the bar, silently allowing the cold, crisp air of the night to clear up his mind.

He was going to need it.

The next time he faced the woman, he wouldn’t fail.

He’d make her his, showing her in whatever way possible that they were made for each other, whatever the cost, even if he had to slaughter that despicable lizard bastard himself in order to keep her safe forever.

Vegeta didn’t know that, in that very moment, a blue haired woman was sitting on her small bed, her few belongings all packed up as she waited in the dark for the three earthlings that would join her in her new adventure: a bald monk, a dirty perverted old man that possessed a surprisingly great talent for martial arts and Yamcha.

In her trembling hands, she held a small object: the black card a certain Saiyan Prince had given her just hours earlier.

She’d finally checked the contents of it.

Ten million credits.

A small fortune, enough to purchase even a small planet if she wished.

Bulma stood by the window, her watery eyes lost in the starry sky. Now, more than ever, she was fully determined to find the Dragon Balls and make her wishes come true.

One of those wishes now included the promise of getting to see her perfect man one more time.

Somehow, somewhere, she knew they’d meet again, and when they did, she would never let him go…

Originally posted by neogohann

Let’s Meet At Luke’s Part 3

Catch up on Let’s Meet At Lukes!

                “Yes! Yes you did!” Rory laughed as Dean chuckled, shaking his head. “I do not ever remember telling you I’d watch you walk around a book store and shop for 6 or 7 hours,” Dean said as he looked down at her. Rory smiled softly at him. “Today’s been a lot of fun,” she said as she turned toward him, staring up into his hazel eyes. “You know, Rory, I thought for sure that when I left, I’d never see you again, but, now that I have…” he whispered leaning closer to her.

               Rory smiled and leaned up, their lips inches apart. She could smell the mint he’d sucked on after finishing his cup of coffee. Which, she could still smell a hint of as well; Rory closed her eyes, anxious to feel his lips on hers again. Suddenly, her phone began to ring, causing her to jump back, Dean doing the same as he cleared his throat and rubbed his neck awkwardly. Rory’s eyes were wide as she dug around in her purse pulling her phone out and seeing a missed call from her mother. “Sorry about that,” she said smiling as she shoved her phone back into her purse. “Don’t worry about it, I should get you home anyways,” Dean sputtered as he walked her back to her car. “You know, we should go out again, this was a lot of fun. What are you doing tomorrow night?” Rory asked as they stopped at her car.

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The Pizza Boy

Orphan Brigade [Baby Years]: The story of how an infamous crime lord became the guardian of three children and a teenager. 

The Fake AH  Penthouse was notorious among fast food establishments. 

They were a dangerous group of criminals, well known so spontaneous acts of unpredictable chaos. As a result, any delivery men who were sent there where paid danger money. Which is why Trevor would often volunteer for the position. He liked the extra money and the danger never really fazed him. After all, how bad could it really be?

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Jar of Hearts Pt. lll

Title: Jar of Hearts Pt. lll
Josh Dun/Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Somewhat rough sex, blowjob, fingering, daddy kink, small fight. swearing, the basic shit lol
A/N: I know y’all have probably been wanting some good makeup sex with Josh I grant your wishes here. This is most likely the last part because I don’t know if I can do anything else from here. Thank you all for the support on this story, I am really proud of it. I also hit 200 followers so here’s my way of celebrating! ♥

Originally posted by giffingtop

Two months had passed since you and Josh agreed to take a break. He found out where you were staying but never visited, only sent things. One morning you woke up to a package from an unknown sender. You sat at the table as you opened it to find a bottle of your favorite perfume. It was an expensive brand so you had only been able to buy it once a year ago and when you ran out, you couldn’t get another. There was a piece of paper in the box that you picked up and read: A beautiful girl as you should smell just as pretty. It was corny but it did make you smile.

A few days after that, the doorbell rang as you were watching TV. No one else was home so you got up to answer it. A young man greeted you and handed you a large bouquet of your favorite flowers. You took them and thanked him before closing the door. As you set the flowers down to go get a vase, a small card fell onto the floor. You picked it up and read it: These flowers aren’t nearly as perfect as you. You felt your cheek burn as you set the card down to get a vase of water.

The gifts stopped for a couple weeks which did sadden you a bit until as you were making dinner there was a knock on the door. You opened the door to find a small package on the floor. You grabbed it and closed the door before quickly opening it. It was a lamented photo. You carefully pulled it out to see that it was a signed picture of your all time favorite childhood celebrity. There was no note this time but you knew who it was from being as you only told one other person about your love for them.

A few more smaller packages came before you finally gave in and called Josh. 

“Hello?” A raspy voice answered.

“Oh, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

“Y/N! It’s okay. Wake me anytime you want.” His voice changed to one of a ten year old getting his favorite toy on Christmas causing you to giggle.

“I got all your gifts. They’re very thoughtful, thank you.”

“I said I was gonna try and make things right. I know buying things probably doesn’t do much but I didn’t know if you wanted to see me so I sent packages instead.” He explained. 

“You’re right, it doesn’t change what happened but it does show that you care and I appreciate it.”

“I love you, Y/N. I miss you so much.” His voice cracked slightly at the end. 

“I miss you too, Joshua. Wanna come over tomorrow? We can talk about us.”

“Yes! Yes. Definitely.” 

“Okay. Come over around 7pm. I’ll order your favorite pizza.”

“7pm. Got it. I look forward to it.” 

“Goodnight, Josh.”

“Goodnight, Y/N.” 

Tomorrow night came faster than ever and you were sitting on the couch awaiting a knock on the door. You had put on a pair of denim skinny jeans with a floral blouse. You had minimal makeup on as you didn’t want to seem too eager to talk to Josh, even though you were. 

As soon as you pulled out your phone to check Instagram, you heard a car pull up and ran over to the door to await the knock. Opening the door you were greeted by a young man. Not Josh. The pizza delivery guy. 

“Good evening.” The boy greeted you with a smile. 

“Hey, how much do I owe you.’ You let out a sigh as you turned to the table to grab your wallet.


“Here’s $15.” You handed him the money as he exchanged it for the pizza. As he turned to leave, you closed the door behind yourself before setting the pizza down in the kitchen. 

You checked the clock to see it was almost 8pm. You groaned as you stormed over to your phone on the couch and dialed Josh’s number. After a few rings, he picked up.

“H-hello.” He hiccuped.

You could hear loud music in the background and giggling around him. This only fueled your anger. 

“Are you serious, Joshua?! You’re out fucking partying and probably drunk off your ass.” 

“So what?” He giggled, obviously not realizing your anger. 

“You were supposed to be here at 7pm to talk, dipshit!” You practically yelled through the phone and just like that, he snapped out of it.

“Fuck! I’m so sorry, Y/N. I forgot. Tyler wanted to go out and celebrate the end of the tour, I did’t mean to stand you up.” His voice softened. 

“I was about to forgive you for your stupidity, Joshua. But tonight just showed me how much you actually care to save our relationship.” You hung up the phone, not in the mood to hear any more of his excuses.

You got ready for bed and just cried for a little bit, clutching a stuffed animal that Josh had sent you. You wanted to fix shit with him, but he apparently didn’t. He just wanted to go around and collect more broken hearts for his collection. An hour or so had passed before you were dehydrated from the many tears you shed. You got up and dragged your self to the kitchen, grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge. As you chugged it, you hear a hard knock on the door. You looked at the microwave clock. It was nearly 2am. 

“Who the fuck?” You mumbled to yourself as you unlocked the door. You carefully opened it and were attacked with lips on yours. You pushed the man off of you before realizing who it was. 

“Joshua? It’s late, what are you doing here?”

“Fixing my many fuck ups.” He said sounding more sober than he was a few hours ago. 

Before you could object and kick him out, he attached his lips to yours again this time with more passion. You gave into the kiss as you ran your fingers through his disheveled yellow locks. A quiet moan escaped his mouth as you gently bit his bottom lip. One hand was holding your cheek while the other glided down your side to your butt and squeezed, causing you to jump into him where he took the opportunity to grab you and pick you up. You two didn’t break the kiss as he carried you over to the couch and sat down so you were straddling him. You smirked into the kiss as you began grinding into his lap. Josh threw his head back, exposing his neck to you. You smiled before starting to leave markings all over. 

“Fuck, I missed you.” Josh hissed.

You didn’t reply. You only crawled down onto your knees so you were between his legs. Josh didn’t object, only helped you get his pants off. 

“Mmm, I forgot how huge you were.” You whispered as you began to stroke him painfully slow. You knew you were driving him crazy from his hips bucking up into your hand, wanting you to go faster. To Josh’s surprise, you didn’t speed up. You wrapped your lips around his erection, taking as much as you could without gagging. 

“Oh God, Y/N. You have no idea how much I missed your mouth.” He moaned out, louder than he intended to. 

As you began to feel him twitch inside your hollow mouth, you quickly pulled away. He let out a gentle whine, missing the contact.

“Not yet, baby.” You smirked.

Josh didn’t hesitate before picking you up again and carrying you into the bedroom this time. You yelped at the sudden lift off the ground but went back to kissing his neck, teasing him more. Once he reached he foot of your bed, he plopped you down before helping you get your shirt off. He started leaving a trail of kisses down your chest and stomach. His fingers twiddled with the buttons on your jeans before sliding them off of your body. He stood up and stared at your almost naked body, biting his lip. Your cheeks turned a deep red as you covered your face. He bent back over you and pulled your hands away from your face.

“Don’t hide, beautiful. You’re perfect.” He whispered as his fingers glided over your wetness through your panties. He pushed them to the side and started to rub circles on your clit. “In every. Single. Way.” He emphasized as he pushed two fingers in you causing you to arch your back and let out a moan. He growls lightly as he attacks your neck, covering you in hickies. His fingers continue at a fast speed, curling in the right spots. 

“J-Josh…I’m close.” You can barely get out in one breath. He pulls his fingers out as soon as you finish your sentence. 

“Not yet.” He says, mocking your teasing nature from earlier. 

He takes off the rest of his clothing while you unhook your bra. He slides your panties off in a swift motion, leaving you both completely bare and exposed to each other. He aligns his erection to your opening and moves it around, covering himself in your wetness. You whine and buck your hips, needing more.

“Someone really missed me, didn’t they?”

You don’t respond, only give him a pleading look. His eyes turn darker before thrusting into you harshly. You gasp and shut your eyes.

“Didn’t they?” He says through gritted teeth.

“Yes, Daddy!” You moan as he begins to fuck you to the perfect rhythm. 

His large hands glide up your torso and grip your breasts. You pull him down to kiss him hard while you claw at his back. You feel him hum into the kiss and smirk knowing how much he loves the pain you cause him. 

“Y/N. I-I’m close. Wher-”

“Inside me.” You barely let him finish what he was saying. 

Within a few moments Josh was panting harder than before and spilling inside you. The full feeling caused you to follow after him, your legs shaking around him. Josh lets a few more thrusts out before carefully pulling out of you and laying down. 

“That was…eventful.” He chuckles as he wipes his forehead with the back of his hand.

You wiggled closer to him and curl up to his body. He wraps his arms around you, not wanting to let go.

“That was a pretty good way to show how much you care.” You kissed his cheek before nuzzling into his neck. 

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Josh.”

Jams With Java

Spencer Reid

Spencer hated being set up. It never worked out, no matter which one of his well intentioned friends was doing the match making.

Tonight had been no exception and as he wandered through the city streets back to his apartment he silently cursed himself for letting Derek convince him that this time would be different.

The girl he’d double dated with had been okay. A doctor who Savannah worked with at the hospital; she’d been very well educated and was extremely attractive, not that that was something that mattered to Spencer. But as the four of them had sat and eaten their food, it was blindingly obvious to everyone at their table that there was no connection between the two. When it got to that point where his ‘date’ was openly flirting with the waiter, Spencer pulled his friend to one side, made his excuses and left. He should have felt bad about running out mid date, but there was no love lost there. And Derek understood, even apologising to him for how the night had gone.

“It’s fine, Derek. I’ll see you at work on Monday, okay?”

And so it wasn’t even ten pm on a Friday night and Spencer was on his way home to spend yet another weekend alone in his own company. Which most of the time he didn’t mind, but now that even Morgan seemed to be settling down, there were times when it bothered him. The problem was he didn’t really know what he was looking for in a partner, all he knew what that he needed that connection, that instant spark. And he’d yet to feel it. Maybe he never would?

Spencer was just about to turn the corner off of the main street when he spotted a bright lit store front further down the road. Last time he’d come this way, the store was still boarded up and vacant, yet now it looked like it was open even this late.

He decided to walk the few yards further to check it out, seeing a brightly decorated sign ‘Jams with Java’.

As he approached the store front he could see that it appeared to be a music store combined with a coffee shop, with a sign announcing it’s late night opening. Forever on the look out for good coffee Spencer decided to check it out, pushing the door open and hearing the jangle of bells over the low melody that was playing.

Looking around, he smiled slightly to himself. There were only three customers in there sitting at booths off to one side. In the middle of each table was a mounted electronic tablet with a headphone splitter attached to it. It looked like people could plug their own headphones in and peruse the stores music choice, whilst they drank their coffee or ate the various baked goods they had on offer. A third of the store was taken up with rows and rows of albums, both vinyl and cds although Spencer was tech savvy enough to know that a lot of people just downloaded their music these days. He still preferred to own ‘hard copies’ though. The final third had various musical instruments on display, acoustic guitars and such. The smell of coffee permeated the entire space and Spencer found himself walking over to one of the tables and pulling up a chair.

After a few moments the only member of staff who appeared to be working came over and smiled at him. Her name tag read 'Victoria’ and she had one of the most enchanting smiles that Reid had ever seen. Her face looked almost bare of any make up, although Spencer knew from JJ and Emily that the so called 'natural’ look could take longer to achieve. Her hair was a mixture of honey coloured blonde with darker undertones to it and was cut relatively short for a female. She wore it in a side parting with the right side falling longer than the left and it framed her faced beautifully.

It took Spencer a minute to realise that she’d spoken, asking what he’d like to order.

“Sorry,” he shook himself out of his trance.

“That’s alright. You certainly looked like you were off in another world. Was it nice there, can I come?” her voice was like a wind chime in a light summers breeze, a sound Spencer could listen to for hours on end.

“Pardon?” he’d heard her words but wasn’t sure what she was saying.

“The other world you were just in… Was it nice there? Actually, just ignore me, it’s been a long day.”

“Sorry. It’s been a long day for me too.”

She smiled again, “If it’s been that long should you really be prolonging it by drinking coffee? Not that I should be turning down business in my first week. Decaf perhaps?” she wrinkled up her nose at the word decaf as did Spencer.

“I don’t sleep much anyway. A cappuccino would be fine though please, no decaf. I really don’t see the point.”

“Me neither. I adore coffee for both the taste, and the hit it gives me. Which is much needed sometimes. So, cappuccino it is, that’s my favourite too. Can I interest you in a pastry or a cookie? A muffin perhaps? We’ve got these amazing coffee and chocolate chip flavoured muffins, they are to die for. In fact, I really need to stop promoting them. I have two left and if they don’t sell, I get to take them both home.”

A thought passed through Spencer’s brain which he quickly dismissed, but then back tracked to it, deciding for once to act on it.

“Could I get the two muffins then and two cappuccinos please?”

“Two…. Jeez, you really don’t need much sleep. Give me two ticks and I’ll bring them over.”

She wandered away back behind the counter and Spencer found himself watching her as she walked. She was curvy, a very voluptuous figure hidden in black skinny jeans and a black long cardigan. Her v neck t shirt had been bright pink though and Spencer hadn’t been able to stop himself noticing the ample creamy cleavage that peeked out of the v.

Trying to not seem like he was biding the time before she returned, he started to swipe through the tablet, struggling slightly with the different options on there. He could work his iPhone but the interface on the tablet was different and he gave up just as Victoria returned to the table. She set out both drinks and muffins in front of him and he swiftly moved one of each to the space in front of the empty chair opposite him.

“You expecting company?” she asked him.

Spencer felt his cheeks start to flush as he shook his head and looked down at the table.

“Erm no, I was… um. I wondered if maybe you wanted to join me. There’s not a lot of people in here and you seem… god, I’m being stupid. Of course you don’t want to join me, you probably have much better things to do than talk to some random stranger….. ”

He felt a small hand touch his and then quickly retract and when he looked up he saw that she had climbed into the seat opposite, her waitresses notepad sitting on the table.

“So… Random stranger. If I’m going to eat muffins and drink coffee with you, I kinda feel like I should know your name maybe?” she took a sip of the hot drink, her lips pursing around the mug.

“I’m Spencer… Spencer Reid,” he couldn’t believe she’d joined him, butterflies jumping about in his stomach.

“Well, it’s nice to meet you Spencer Reid. I’m Victoria.”

“I know.”

“You know?” she suddenly looked alarmed and Spencer couldn’t help but chuckle.

“Your name badge…. ” he pointed to her chest at the badge that proclaimed her name.

Victoria started to laugh herself,“That’s happened to me three times this week. Customers calling me by my name and every time I’m like, how do they know? My sister always laughs at me. I really need to remember that it’s attached to my chest.”

“Your sister? Does she work here too?” Reid asked, taking a bite out of the muffin. Christ… It WAS good, she definitely hadn’t been lying.

“Yup. We actually own this place. My sister, her husband, and me. Our grandparents passed away earlier this year, within days of each other. We were their only grandchildren so as sad and upset as we were, we were both pleasantly surprised to discover that they’d been sitting an a sizeable rainy day fund, which they left to us. We decided to do something that would hopefully make them proud. Our Gramps always loved music and Grandma loved baking and food. And myself and Amy love coffee as well as food and music so we thought we’d combine all three. We’ve only been open for a week but we seem to be doing okay. And although it’s hard work, it’s fun….I’m rambling, I’m so sorry!”

Spencer could listen to her ramble all day, he thought.

“You’re really not.. I live a few blocks away and wondered who’d taken over this place. It was only tonight that I saw it was open and decided to come and see what was what.”

The pair talked for a while longer, sipping their coffee and eating their muffins, tearing tiny pieces off. One by one the other customers left until it was just Victoria and Spencer. She glanced to the clock on the wall, jumping when she saw the time.

“Balls… It’s eleven. I’m meant to close up at ten thirty,” she slid off the chair, quickly moving to the door and flipping the sign to closed.

Spencer followed her, hovering by the door. “Erm, how much do I owe you…”

She waived her hands away, “Nothing, it’s on me Spencer.”

“Can I… At least help you clean up then maybe? Seeing as I’ve distracted you and kept you here longer than you needed to be?”

He didn’t want to leave, he really didn’t want to walk away from this woman.

“Nah it’s fine. I live in the apartment above anyway. Sissy and hubby have an apartment a few blocks down but I think figured I’d save on the rent seeing as we were forking out for this place anyway. And it means I’m generally always here to accept deliveries. Will you come by again? I enjoyed talking to you tonight.”

Spencer nodded and begrudgingly accepted that he was going to have to leave her company. He opened the door and bid her adieu, albeit rather sadly.

She was just about to lock the door when he turned, going with his gut instinct for the second time that evening. She stopped, holding the door ajar when she saw he’d turned around.

“Victoria…I don’t want to… erm… Christ, I haven’t even asked if you’ve got a boyfriend… But would you… Maybe want to go out with me? For dinner sometime?”

She looked surprised to begin with and Spencer began to panic thinking he’d made the biggest mistake ever. But then her lips started to twitch upwards into a smile and she slowly nodded.

“I don’t have a boyfriend… And I’d very much like to go out with you sometime.”

“Really?” his voice squeaked causing her to grin even wider.

“Yeah, really. In fact, I’m actually free tomorrow. We only open late on a Friday. We close at six on Saturdays.”

“So I could maybe pick you at seven?” Spencer tried to control the nerves that were creeping into his voice.

“I think you definitely could.”

She rummaged inside her apron and pulled out her pad and pen, scribbling her number down on it and handing it to him.

“Text me, when you get home so I have yours too. And I’ll very much look forward to seven pm tomorrow.”

“So will I.”

Spencer took the paper, his fingers brushing against Victoria’s as he did.

And there it was, that spark he’d been so desperately waiting to feel.

Magical Nerves // A Phan One-Shot

Genre: family fuff, parent!phan

Words: 1.6k

Relationship status: married

Warnings: none

Summary: The Lester family is at Disney World, and the children get to meet Cinderella. It doesn’t exactly go to plan, however.  

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