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lunargrapejuice · 2 months

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family + loyalty

chapter one: mafia & mangoes | 9.1k+ words

satoru gojo x fem!reader | mafia au

chapter warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, explicit sexual content, illegal activies, alcohol drinking, profanity, jealousy, pet names

series masterlist

the navy blue sky starts to brighten into an early morning azure, the sun's rays peeking from behind the city's buildings, just as you knock on the hollow metal door at the back entrance of the hanami ninth night club. the routine clicks of the locks follow shortly after and you're welcomed with a tired, if not slightly hung over, smile from shiro. even this early in the morning he’s dressed in a brown suit that’s a bit big on him, his dark brown hair slicked back and smoking a cigarette.

this was how he looked every time you came by, you swear his suit was the exact same too, but this morning in his slouched, bloodshot eyes, he looked particularly haggard.

“you’re one of my more demanding business partners, you know that?” he says, blowing smoke from his cigarette to his side before tossing the still burning bud on the ground and stomping it out with his shining designer shoes.

“you complain yet answer every time i come knocking,” you retort, holding back your smile, knowing this is just how he was with you.

the morning air that’s not quite warm enough for the t-shirt you’ve chosen to wear lingers on your exposed skin as he flips through the cash you hand him. he knows you’re good for it, you’ve been doing business with him for over a year now and you’re not about to ruin it nor are you dishonest by nature. but you know it’s just routine and wait patiently.

he pockets that cash and steps closer inside, leaving the door open so you can hear him while he grabs your things. “don’t get it wrong, i like doing business with you little lady,” his voice muffled as he moves further back into the club. “you may only be a small time customer but even still, your business is appreciated. even if it means gettin’ up this early on a saturday morning,” he return with the wooden crate full of goods. “here you are,” gently he places the box into your arms ensuring you can support the weight before letting go. “see ya next week?”

you smile and nod, shift the crate to sit more comfortably, “see you then. thanks again shiro.”

he waves goodbye as you turn around and begin to head back into the main street. it’s not far to your destination and you take your time enjoying the early saturday morning that brings a normally unseen beauty to this side of the city. the dozens of small locally owned shops around this area are at least an hour away from opening and the streets are almost empty aside from the handful of early risers taking leisurely walks and the coffee shop that has the sweet, nutty aroma of their specialty coffee lingering in the air. it wasn’t so bad getting up this early when you got to take your time enjoying the little things like this, if anything it helps you prepare for what would be another busy day. the calm before the not-so-bad storm.

and yet, a storm nonetheless.

as you round the street corner, you support the heavy box with one arm and your hip as you search through your bag for your keys. wallet, chipstick, receipts from the grocery store, loose change but no keys. you make a mental note of how messy your bag is since it’s nearly impossible to find what you’re looking for. just as you’re about to put down your things and dump out the contents of your purse on the sidewalk your fingers find the keyring-

“getting into trouble, are we?”

you nearly jump out of your skin at the sudden and unexpected voice from behind you, almost dropping the box and your found keys barely hooked onto your index finger in the process.

with a racing heart you try your best to think clearly, were you about to be caught? get arrested? god dammit, you knew you shouldn’t have gotten so comfortable with this dealing just in case you were caught in the open like you were right now.

“did i scare you? sorry about that, sweets.” his teasing tone doesn’t say he’s actually all that sorry.

in your hurry and the sudden fright you hadn’t registered the voice of the man behind you but the nickname is a dead give away. and now that you think more about it, who else would meet you here this early in this morning if not your number one customer?

“good morning satoru,” you greet, unable to hide the shakiness in your voice or the fact that your heart rate has not gone down since he made his appearance. you swore it was echoing in the quiet street, only growing louder when he comes into your view, his figure towering over you.

“what’s got you so jumpy?” his dark sunglasses may hide his playful eyes but you know it’s there and see that the smirk on his lips is devilish. “doin’ something you shouldn’t be?”

your breath hitches and slightly paranoid thought passes through your mind, making you fill with guilt and worry.. did he know?

“haha, i don’t know what you’re talking about,” you reply but god you barely even believe what you’re saying. “i’m just trying to get to work and you show up out of nowhere,” not that it’s an actual complaint and you don’t sound the least bit mad. you liked seeing satoru very much.

he's got the looks of a man chiseled by the delicate hands of the gods themselves and it doesn’t help that he wears gorgeous, perfectly fitted suits and ties that bring out his already breathtaking cerulean eyes from under his snowy, messy undercut. he may be the most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen.

he lifts an eyebrow, no doubt questioning your odd behavior and a little convinced you really were doing something you shouldn’t be but when he smiles wider, almost like he knows your secret or knows he’ll pry it out of you, you think you would spill it if he asked.

“you’re a terrible liar,” satoru says through his smile and takes the box from you, standing behind you as you unlock the doors to your little bakery and follows you inside.

you don’t mind him coming in before the bakery is open, it's not the first time and you're sure it wouldn’t be the last. it was a few months ago he wandered in dressed in a similar black suit that he’s wearing today and ordered one of everything you were offering. he's come in almost every day since then and spent enough money that his funds alone could pay for the rent on the shop but truthfully, even if he didn’t spend a small fortune here, you enjoy his company more than you’d like to admit out loud.

satoru places the box down next to the cash register and leans against the counter, silently watching you tie your apron over your light blue jeans and black shirt, preparing for the weekend morning rush.

aside from miwa, who was god sent working the front of the bakery, you basically run this place by yourself. you baked, you bought supplies, you balanced the books and dedicated your life to this bakery. a dream you shared with your parents once, one you hope they could be proud of had they survived that fateful day.

“tell me, what were you up to this morning?” satoru questions when you come to open the box from the opposite side of the counter. you pretend the shimmer of his beautiful eyes don’t affect you as he pulls down his glasses and flashes his baby blues at you, batting light lashes to try to get it out of you.

you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks under his flirtatious gaze, your heart hammering under his attention and his playfully sweet tone that might get any person to spill their secrets. “i told you - nothing!”

your denials are not convincing even to your own ears and his devious expression, still partly hidden by his dark glasses, told you he wasn’t believing a word you were saying but he knew he was close to getting what he wanted.

he was right before, you are a terrible liar.

“you can trust me,” he adds and your heart lurches like it believes him. “i won't tell. i’m just curious about what kind of trouble you’re getting yourself into,” he smirks, pulling off his glasses entirely, leaning in closer to you.

you can feel the butterflies from your stomach in your throat as you find it hard to speak with his scent filling your nose, his warmth palpable but still so far away. it's not fair, you think, he knows just how to fluster you and ever since you met him he’s been shameless in doing so.

what started out as compliments you thought was just him being nice, or just enjoying your baking, had turned into intense flirting starting after he showed up as you were locking up one night about a month ago and pleaded with you that he’d pay anything for whatever you had left over from the day. just as you do now, you found it impossible back then to say no to his charm and ended up spending the whole night at the shop talking over cake and mochi.

“come on sugar, tell me.”

“fine!” you break your gaze away from his and focus on the box, hoping you're hiding your burning cheeks well. after you’ve opened the box you grab his hand, putting the contents he wanted to know so badly about in his palm.

his mouth opens slightly, eyebrows knitting. “a mango?” he questions, looking between you and the fruit in cute confusion.

“yes, a mango that could get me into some trouble. it’s imported from africa, but it’s against customs so i buy them and some other fruits and sugars.. illegally,” you whisper the last word as if someone might hear you even though the shop is empty besides the two of you.

satoru chuckles in amusement but to your surprise, he doesn’t tease you. “why all that trouble for a mango?”

“for someone who eats the goods i bake almost every day you should be able to tell the difference from the other fruits i use versus other places you’ve been,” you tease, taking the fruit from him. “these mangoes are sweeter and creamier than ones you would get here. i’m hurt you can’t tell the difference,” you clutch onto your chest dramatically.

without skipping a beat, he says in an oddly serious tone, “i thought it was because you make them that they taste like that.”

it’s as if your heart is doing somersaults in your chest as you stare at him. god dammit, why did he have to be so adorable and handsome? you might be more happy about it if you knew he wasn’t like this with every pretty girl and handsome man he sees. you’ve seen it first hand with some of your other customers. it didn’t stop you from indulging a bit. his attention is nice and harmless flirting never hurt anyone. right?

the chiming of the bell above the door breaks the trance he had put you in and you’re thankful for the interruption before he was able to poke fun at your flustered state or see the crush you had on him written all over your face.

“morning miwa,” he greets your assistant and only employee.

miwa has gotten quite used to satorus presence in the bakery as well. not long ago she insisted that you should go out with him despite his flirty nature. ‘he’s so beautiful. i bet he’s strong too,’ she sighed dreamily before going on about how she could never go after him, as her heart was already spoken for, and you have his attention so you must go for it.

easier said than done miwa.

“morning mr. gojo,” she replies, pumping her light blue eyebrows at you when she passes by, as if to say ‘go for it girl!’ before disappearing into the back to clock in and get ready to help with preparations for the morning rush.

you roll your eyes at her and turn around to return to your own preparations.

satoru watches intently as you cut mangoes, mix dough, run into the back to place things in the oven and get the display case ready simultaneously. he’s sat and watched you prepare for the morning rush a few times by now but you still find the time to talk with him, admire him as he texts on his phone but quickly pull your gaze away when his eyes find yours, and reply to the other questions he has about your illegal activities.

where are you getting them from? you sure they’re trustworthy? how much are you paying? is this the only dealer you’ve worked with? and the questions go on and on.

“i thought you said you were a businessman, not a cop.”

you try to play it off innocent but a part of you is worried that maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to tell him. you trusted shiro and whatever means he used to procure your imported goods and you know better than to tell anyone of him or what he does for you.

he hasn’t said it out loud but you’re not naive. your little deals are only small time compared to his normal business but he didn’t need anyone looking into him for any reason. you weren’t about to get in the middle of that or find out what the consequences might be if you did.

“i’m no cop,” he answers with a sneer. “just looking out for you, don’t want you to get ripped off.”

a small ‘oh’ comes from under your breath and you avoid his eyes. were you being too paranoid? maybe but you’d rather be safe than sorry in situations like this. after all the effort you put in for this bakery; all the money, sweat and tears you poured into this shop and your treats, losing them wasn’t an option.

truthfully you don’t believe he is a cop and feel the truth in his words when he says them, though you aren’t sure exactly what it is satoru does for a living but it’s better you not tell him of shiro.

“i appreciate that,” you mean it honestly despite your defensiveness before. “i shouldn’t say more though..” satoru may be attractive, easy to talk to and affecting your heart more than you want him to but indulging his curiosity to the full extent was not something you could do this time around.

the phone in his pocket begins to ring before he can reply. relief, you’re thankful to end this conversation quickly before he can press more.

he motions with his finger to give him a moment and turns the other way to stand closer to the door of the bakery. you focus your attention on the dough in front of you but it’s hard not to listen in when the shop is so quite.

“what is it? … this early? ... k, be there soon. … no, i’ll call him and we’ll meet you there.”

he doesn’t sound pleased when he hangs up and immediately goes to make another phone call but you don’t stay around to listen to what he’s saying. instead you slip into the back to get the pastries from the oven and put a couple in a to-go box for satoru.

he’s just getting off the phone when you return and searches his suit pockets for his car keys. “sorry sugar, duty calls.”

“as if i’d let you hang out here all day anyways,” you tease, coming around the counter to stand in front of him and hand him the togo box, stopping him when he reaches into the wallet. “it’s on the house today.”

his smile could melt your heart and it almost distracts you from the unreasonable amount of yen he drops into the tip jar; way more than what the treats you’ve packed for him cost.

“you don’t ha-”

“i’ll see ya later,” he gives you a wink before slipping his glasses back on and taking the bag from your with a brush of his fingers against yours, making his way out the door. “don’t get into too much trouble without me,” he calls behind him but doesn't look back.

you are trouble, you think, watching him leave and hating the disappointment you feel when his tall figure disappears into the distance as the bell chimes when it closes. you know you shouldn’t be falling for customers and especially ones such as satoru gojo at that- an undeniable flirt. you had your fair share of experiences with men like that in the past and normally stay far away from them but something about satoru has you unable to hold back and, even if it’s to your dismay, he knows just how to pull you in more.

honestly, he seemed rather shallow at first. nothing more than good looks, sweet words and money but the more time he spends around you the more mysterious and deeper he becomes, even still. you can tell he’s really dedicated to his work and works hard. he’s never said exactly what he did besides being a ‘businessman’ but plenty of times it called him away and each time he went without question, not without his dilly dallying. more than that, just today his comment about how he wanted to look out for you didn’t seem like the man you had first thought he was. he didn’t seem like the type to care about other people's business and if they’re being taken advantage of but you could tell he was honest when he said that, none of his normally teasing and playfulness behind his words.

“i don’t understand why you two haven’t gone out yet,” miwa breaks you from your thoughts, coming from the back with two large trays of jelly filled donuts, melon pan and other goodies to fill the display case with.

you sigh, overthinking about what could be if this were more than a little crush between a baker and her handsome customer with an insatiable sweet tooth.

would you say no if he asked? probably not. you doubt anyone says no to gojo. is it a good idea to go out with him though? you honestly couldn’t say.

it’s not that you were looking for commitment, being a small business owner took up most of your life and you were fine with that; living the dream you had since you were a child, fulfilling what you shared with your once complete family, meant more to you than falling in love. baking was the only love you needed; it didn’t leave and came in all sorts of different comforts.

you could always make something delicious that made people smile, that was a reminder of a bitter sweet past or a brighter future. like the first taste of a comforting treat after a long day or the familiar scent of a pastry shared by two lovers long ago. seeing those moments and more unfold because of what you baked was enough for you, it brought you happiness in its own way after so much of your own loss.

you aren’t even sure if you could handle a relationship, if it was in the cards for you, but maybe going out and sleeping with him, getting it out of your system would be the way to go. just maybe it would quiet or stop the bubbling feelings instead of you. or maybe it would make it worse.

but you’d be lying if you said you haven’t thought about what lies underneath those designer suits and you know satoru thinks he plays it cool when you wear small summer dresses or plunging necklines and tight pants but you’ve caught those cerulean eyes lingering on your figure more than once.

the other side of this dating coin was going out with him and ending up falling for him; getting yourself caught in something you didn’t particularly want to be a part of. it’s not that you couldn’t put in the hard work that relationships require, though it may be hard to find the time but for the right person you would give it your all. but was it worth the potential loss? could you even handle any more loss?

satoru didn’t seem like the type to settle down and you weren’t interested in playing games with a man who liked to play them exclusively. putting your heart out there for more than just baking was easier said than done but there was always the possibility your heart didn’t need to get involved, despite how unlike you that was.

a part of you wonders if your heart is already wading deeper than the ankle deep waters of those unbelieve blue eyes.

none of it even matters though because he hadn’t asked you out and it would be inappropriate for you to ask him out as the owner of an establishment he visits frequently... or maybe it’s the thought that the rejection would hurt just too bad and then you’d likely never see him in your little bakery again, which seems much worse than the rejection, that stops you. your little flirtatious moments when he dropped by were enough, it didn’t need to be more. for your sake and his.

but a girl can still dream.

“i can’t believe we’re doing this shit right now. doesn’t he know it’s only eight in the fucking morning?”

“what the hells gotten into you this morning?” geto questions, tossing the black duffle bag into the back of the cadillac with a loud clunk and a slam of the door. there were no off hours with a job like this, both of the men knew that and accepted it, not that it stopped either of them from bitching every now and again but satoru was unusually irritated today. “you know the boss likes these things dealt with quickly.”

both men slide into the car, gojo behind the wheel and geto stuck with all the items left in the front seat by his companion. he tosses what he can in the back or sticks it in the center counsel but satoru can feel sugurus eyes on him the entire time.

he doesn’t look back at his partner as he turns on the car and puts it in drive. “there’s nothing quick about this.”

he knew suguru couldn’t argue about that. there was absolutely nothing quick about chasing someone that was already a full 12 hours ahead of you, even if you have good intel on where this problem may be. countless things could go wrong and there would be hell to pay if they couldn’t finish the job and bring back what was taken. not that he or geto are worried about that. they were chosen for this job because only they could see it through better than anyone else.

it makes gojo a little less sour knowing they asked him and geto to fix this little problem together since no one else was capable of handling it but he hadn’t had nearly his fill of asking about whoever it was his pretty little baker did illegal business with.

before he can think about his subconscious calling you ‘his’, satoru catches his companion opening up his white togo box full of an assortment of goodies and immediately puts the car back into park after not moving an inch. he wasn’t going to get a chance to stop for more treats while on this mission so he’d have to make them last and he wasn’t planning on sharing anyways.

“these are mine,” satoru reaches over and shuts the lid over sugurus fingers, moving the box to his lap aggressively.

“what? are you five years old all of the sudden?”

“shut up. she made these for me and i’m not sharing,” he reaches into the box not caring what he grabs out because no matter what it was it was bound to satisfy his craving.

bite sized mango turn over, and damn were these illegal mangoes good.

he can’t help but smile at the memory of you all sweet and guilty. worried over illegal mangoes. your innocence is so cute. he didn't know what kind of trouble to expect you to get into but that was not it.

gojo knows suguru recognizes the mochi and sakura leaf logo of your bakery, various boxes and containers were always in his apartment or car and gojos raved about your cakes and mochi like it was made of gold. he made geto try it so could he understand the craze from his best friend who has no impulse control and a sweet tooth from hell but satoru also knows he’s dropped plenty of hints he thinks you’re attractive as well so it’s no wonder he keeps going back.

“she makes them for everyone, dumbass. that’s her job.”

“i’m still not sharing.”

“a paloma and extra shot of tequila, please,” you order before your butt even hits the cushion of the bar stool.

slumping into the seat you close your eyes and let out a long exhale. it’s been a long and exhausting few days with miwa on vacation with her boyfriend, kokichi, and you running the bakery by yourself. she works so hard, puts in so much effort for your little shop so how could you say no when she asked for a few days off for a get away with her beloved? she was sweet enough to plan her vacation on weekdays instead of the weekend too so that you didn’t have to suffer the weekend rush by yourself.

you don’t remember the days before miwa being this busy and exhausting but business had grown a lot since then. it might be time to look for additional help but that would have to wait for another day when you could go through the shop's finances and see if you could even afford it on top of paying miwa what she deserves.

tonight, all you want is something stiff to help let all that stress slip away before you head home and get ready for another solo day.

the bartender puts your peach colored drink and shot glass in front of you without a word and walks to the other side of the island to attend to a couple who arrived right before you. you don’t come to the bar often, never really finding the time and not really having anyone to go with but when you do decide to come out by yourself, you always come to the light ox bar. it’s quiet and modern, playing all your favorite songs over the speakers and the bartenders are generous with their drinks, lowkey enough to wind down after a long day and it’s right in between your apartment and the bakery.

you quickly take the shot, the clear liquid burning your throat, though not unpleasantly, on the way down. oh yes, this was exactly what you needed before getting back to grind tomorrow.

“haven’t seen you here in a while,” a familiar deep voice comes from behind you after a few minutes of nursing your drink in silence, stewing over issues that you wish you could have left at work.

toji fushiguro, a man you met at this bar two years ago and have only ever seen at this bar. very handsome and equally mysterious. you know only 2 things about the man; his name and that he loves to drink whiskey.

at least those are the only things he’s confirmed about himself, you’ve speculated other things plenty. you don’t know his age; he’s older than you for sure but not quite old enough to be the age your father would have been and not quite young enough to be your brother. the scar on his face and his muscular build had you guessing he’s ex military or police but his personality doesn’t quite fit either occupation.

he’s not married or if he is he doesn’t wear a ring or say anything about his spouse. he ‘s hardly told you a thing. you don’t mind not knowing much about him though. he may say otherwise but you know he’s a decent guy. he’s been good company on some hard and good nights; scaring away a few unwanted suitors and listening to you rant or talk about whatever's on your mind but never judging you for it.

he’s been one of the only people you’ve opened up to about your past, your parents demise, why baking even matters so much to you.

“yeah.. the shop’s been keeping me pretty busy,” you admit, sitting up straight in your seat but not turning to face him. you stare into your drink, stirring the ice with the small black straw, watching the droplets of condensation soak into the coaster as he takes a seat next to you.

out of the corner of your eye you see him sip on the golden liquid in his glass and smile. “means business is good then, yeah?”

“it’s good,” you reply, though your tone doesn’t sound like you’re happy about it and toji quickly catches on.

he lets out a quiet huf, moving in his chair to rest his elbows on the glass counter top of the bar and looks over at you with dark emerald eyes. “you don’t sound too happy about that.”

i am happy about it.. right? you ask yourself while taking another sip of your drink. yes, successful business was what every business owner hoped for, what your parents hoped for. you had to be happy about that. what you weren’t happy about was the exhaustion, the long nights, the loneliness despite being around customers all day, the fact all you think and worry about is your business. baking was the way to get out of reality but it’s hard to feel like that on days like today when you didn’t have enough hands, money or time.

you force a half hearted laugh. “i am.. it’s tiring living and breathing business.. if i was able to just bake i’d love that but it’s everything else i don’t like. i don’t like having to worry about hiring people or about making rent on the shop or how to advertise or bring new customers in.. all that stuff, it’s not me.. not what i’m passionate about but there’s no one else to do it for me.”

you only ever do it because you have to in order to keep your bakery dream alive and normally you wouldn’t complain. responsibilities weren’t always things you were passionate about or loved to do, it was what you had to do no matter how you felt but it gets hard to put on a brave face when all you do is worry and stress about responsibilities, when it feels like it’s you against the world. you didn’t have anyone to lean on, no one to reach out to for help that didn’t require you to pay first.

you were.. alone.

as much as you don’t want to admit it to yourself, satoru provided you a small relief from all of this. he may not be able to help with the books and workload overwhelming you but he made you smile, made you laugh and loves your treats more than anyone else. it was a breath of fresh air in your busy work life to have him stop by, like a rest stop on a steep upwards hike where you can catch your breath and enjoy the view instead of worrying about getting to the top. he hadn’t been by the past few days though, not since saturday morning and, a little begrudgingly, you find yourself wishing to see him walk through the door and tease you to his heart's content. perhaps that’s got you in a bad mood too.

“too much responsibility for such a little girl?”

finally you turn to look at him with narrow eyes that shoot daggers into his side but it’s hard to stay too mad when you’re met with a smug ass look on his face. you playfully shove him in the arm and continue trying your hardest to glare at him but he’s got one of those smiles that rubs off on others and your toughness is broken though almost instantly.

“i’m an adult, alright?” a fact he already knows about you. “not some little girl who's too far in over my head.” though you're starting to doubt that slightly tonight. your business may be successful for now but maybe it was more than you could handle, more than you wanted to handle. were you ever meant to do this alone?

“anyone would feel like it’s too much if all they thought about was work,” he acknowledges and downs the rest of his drink. “sounds like you could use a break.”

“a break.. hell i’d even take a distraction just so i don’t have to think about it for a little while.”

you follow suit and drink the rest of your paloma in a few gulps, finally feeling the warmth from your first shot helping your body relax. a break, a distraction.. neither of those options seemed possible at a time like this. if you take time off you have to close the shop and then you don’t make money and then you can’t pay rent on the shop or your apartment or buy items you need or pay miwa. you want to cry just thinking about it. so many things relied on you working and trying to figure this all out. a few drinks before bed was the most of a distinction you could afford.

toji calls for the bartender and doesn’t say anything before he’s pouring tojis brand of choice whiskey and two shots of tequila. you sit in silence, feeling the alcohol warm your insides, and watch the bartender pour your drinks. you’ve always known toji came here a lot, every random time you’ve shown up he’s usually here but you’re still not used to how he doesn’t even have to order because they know him so well.

he slides you one of the shots and takes the other for himself, clinking them together before you drink them and put the glasses down in tandem. your worried, tired eyes don’t go unnoticed by him when you reach up to play with the ice from your paloma with a straw once more.

he leans back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other, his ankle on his opposite thigh, and washes away the taste of tequila with his whiskey. you can tell by the look on his face he’s not a fan of tequila and whiskey was not a great chaser but one shot wasn’t going to kill him.

“i could distract you,” he says too casually but implying too much for your liking.

your cheeks burn and you find yourself speechless under the gaze of his narrow green eyes through dark lashes.

“what? scared of me all the sudden?” he raises an eyebrow and the corner of his lips turn up ever so slightly at the embarrassment on your face. like he was enjoying this embarrassed side of you.

“no!” you say probably too defensively and definitely too loudly but somehow you get your voice to quiet and slow. “it’s not that..”

you aren’t even sure what it is, what’s got you tongue tied and excited at the same time. you know toji to be cool and straight forward, he radiates the confidence of a man who gets what he wants, does what he wants and doesn’t let anyone stand in his way. so it shouldn’t surprise you that he’d say something as bold as this, as casually as he did. maybe it's the fact you can’t believe you’re actually considering taking him up on his offer.

“then what is it?” he doesn’t wait for you to answer before he uncrosses his legs and leans in closer to you, one hand on the back of your chair, the other still holding onto his glass. he’s giving you space to get away, tell him no but you don’t. he smells of cedar and whiskey; and right now you find it more intoxicating than the liquor in your system. “worried i wont be nice? you should know by now, i’m not a nice guy.”

✧˚ · .

you don’t even make it past the entryway of your apartment before toji's lips, hungry and primal latch onto yours, traveling down your jaw and to your neck, his black hair tickling below your ear. the weight of his chest pins you against the door, his strong hands grabbing onto your ass and lifting your feet off the ground in the process. you take the opportunity to encase him between your thighs, feeling his hardening cock against your clothed core.

it’s impossible not to grind against his length but toji is having none of it, using his forceful grip to still your eager hips.

the cold air on your neck when he pulls away from your supple, reddening skin has goosebumps littering your body. his eyes are dark and focused on your every moment, down to the heaving of your chest and the hot air escaping your lips; a predator locked onto its prey.

“eagerness will get you nowhere with me kitten, you’d better behave.”

you nod in agreement, unable to get the words out of your mouth as you fight for breath. you’d listen perfectly if it meant he’d distract you.

his lips find yours once more and your hands make their way into his hair, tangling in the soft black locks more and more with each deepening of your kiss. with ease he supports your weight and carries you from the front entryway to your bedroom, following your breathless instructions between devouring kisses.

your body meets the mattress with force, your hair scattering behind you, your legs remaining open for him. you stare up at tojis face in the moonlight coming from your window. he doesn’t look like the man you thought him to be under the dark, silvery night; his figure towering over your much smaller body and his intense gaze sends a shiver down your spine and wet warmth between your legs.

his defined core and arm muscles ripple and flex as he lifts his shirt off of himself, relieving the unexpected mural that is spread across his entire chest and arms; tattoos of black clouds and flowers and in the center of it all, a large red snake baring its bloody fangs.

your eyes widen, your mind thinking of all the times in media you had seen art like this on others and you can feel your palms getting sweaty. what had you gotten yourself into? swallowing the saliva caught in your throat, you ask, “a-are you in the yakuza.. or something like that?”

“something like that,” he admits, looking down at his tattooed body and then back to you. “have you changed your mind? i warned you i wasn’t a good guy.”

despite talking and drinking at the same bar with him for a few years, you may not know much about him personally but you never thought or got the impression he’s put you or would put you in danger. it’s not like you were planning to date toji anyways, dating a mafia member was out of the question but fucking one didn’t seem like the worst idea you’ve had. who even knew if you’d even see him again after this and truthfully you aren’t sure it’s worth overthinking.

no, you hadn’t changed your mind.

3 months ago

“you wanna stay for dinner?” yuki asks gojo as they both find their discarded clothes on the ground and redress.

annoyance immediately fills satoru. she always asks and the answer is always no. why must she persist each time he comes over? he had meant to stop this little fling they had going on a while ago but each time after a hard time at work he found himself at her doorstep and in her bed; he just needed something to take the edge off, something to remind him he’s more than a man who’s only use is to eradicate problems and people for this family. more than a tool.

yuki had been apart of the family for years since her father is a higher up in the organization. she knows about his and satorus way of life and was happy to provide satoru some kind of release; after all she benefited just as much while in between boyfriends and lounging around until she was needed by her father.

and even when they did fuck, satoru wasn’t in a relationship with her and he never would be so why play pretend and sit together for a meal like a normal couple?

he looks behind him at her, watching her tie up her long hair into a ponytail from the other side of her queen sized bed. she raises an eyebrow at him when he doesn’t answer.

truthfully he is starving but whatever yuki could cook, or order because she doubt she does her own cooking, was not what he was craving. he needed something much sweeter after the day he had.

“not really,” he grumbles and returns back to buttoning up his shirt.

“well i guess i better tell you now then,” she smooths out her baggy sweater and looks at him with an expression that makes him wonder if she’s happy or upset.

god, if we were together you’d think she was getting ready to dump me, satoru thinks to himself, trying to anticipate what news she might be breaking to him.

“my father is discussing an arranged marriage to help strengthen the ties with the kusakabe clan so.. we should probably stop whatever this is,” she motions between them with her hand.

perfect timing. it’s much easier on him for her to put a stop to it anyways. it doesn’t come as a surprise that she’d be married off either. the relationship between the kusakabe clan and the gojo clan are in the beginning stages of a conflict that could stop their business together entirely. they’re getting more and more fed up with the treatment from the gojos but satoru knows it would be quite a loss if they were to cut ties entirely.

“fine by me.”

she walks him to the front door, giving him a smile when she looks between his legs and then back up to his face, as if to say goodbye to his dick because he highly doubts she’ll miss him all that much and he can say the feeling is mutual.

“know of any good bakeries nearby?” he asks with cold indifference.

she gives him a deadpan look.

“are sweets really the only thing on your mind right now? right after denying having dinner with me too?”

sure, things were supposed to be casual with him and gojo could admit she never tried to make it anything more than that, offering dinner was supposed to be casual he’s sure. satoru isn’t the kind of guy who you wanted to date anyways, she had to have known that upon first meeting him and since then he has no doubt her opinion on that has only grown stronger since they started this thing.

she punches him in the arm, “you ass. i thought you were going to give me some sweet goodbye.”

there’s only silence as gojo awaits the answer to his question. it’s not like he was never going to see her again, he’d probably be at her wedding along with the rest of the family.

she sneers in response to his silence, crossing her arms and rolling her eyes. “there's one on the corner up the road. take a right when you get out of here and go up a bit, it’s by the park.”

unexpectedly to even him, he pulls her into him, blonde hair brushing against his ear with her tall height. a friendly hug and one that's reciprocated, though it may even be the first one they’ve ever shared.

“thanks for all you’ve done for me,” he says quietly, giving her a squeeze. “take care yuki.”

normally satorus body feels a little lighter after leaving yukis place but that isn’t the case tonight. even when he found himself balls deep he couldn’t shake the thoughts that plagued his mind. very rarely did he question his choices but tonight he wonders if he’s doing the right thing sticking with the family, following orders - albeit on his own terms - and doing everyone else's dirty work. did he even deserve a better life after all he’s done? at what point are you in too far and there’s no turning back, no second chance at happiness? since when did he even care? and most of all, had he doomed the others he brought into it thinking he was protecting them?

he doesn’t even know what happiness looks like at this point. he thought it was the money, power and rising through the ranks until he could have it all but the deeper he gets the more he dislikes it and is convinced this isn’t happiness and that no one, not even the boss, ‘has it all’.

it hadn’t always felt this bad and he’s sure tomorrow he might feel differently but for tonight, it keeps his shoulder slumped, hands bunched in his pockets and snowy hair covering his eyes as he walks down the street kicking rocks as he goes.

just like yuki said, on the corner of a strip of shops across from the park is a small bakery; pink sakura leaves and a small mochi emblem on the door leading inside. when another customer exits, the smell of vanilla and sugar fills the air around satoru and his stomach grumbles. he just might die if he doesn’t eat something sweet soon.

“welcome!” the blue haired girl behind the counter greets him before turning to help an elderly lady standing at the cash register.

it’s a cute little shop; small but manageable and easy to get in and out of. there are two tables and some chairs sitting by the big window with the shades pulled up, bringing in the lights in the street and from surrounding shops. a big display case is at the end of the counter white counter, some smaller display cases on both sides of the cash register, only a few more things of bread left in each.

gojo heads straight to the main display, not nearly as empty as the others but still telling of the good day you must have had. his eyes sparkle and his mouth waters at the tasty looking treats still inside. the purin looks beyond perfect; caramel glaze dripping off the top of the custard and onto the little plate like it was about to be a part of a magazine. assorted cookies, strawberry shortcake, dango and a little sign saying ask at the counter for mochi, with the flavors of the day listed.

“what can i get you?”

the friendly voice tears satorus attention from the baked goods and he’s met with the face of a woman that looks just as sweet as any of one of these treats. your sparkling eyes are illuminated by the lights of the display case, they are the most beautiful eyes he’s ever seen and your beaming smile is a sight for sore eyes; honest and kind. it helps him throw all his worries out the window, all that’s on his mind now is the pretty girl and sugary sweets in front of him.

everything looks so delicious, including you, how could he possibly pick?

“one of everything, please,” he says. he doesn’t have to say much to lay on the charm, he lets his eyes do most of that and it seems to be working.

your pink cheeks and surprised eyes only makes you look that much more adorable. oh, was satoru glad he made his way here tonight.

“e-everything?”

“everything,” he smirks. ✧˚ · .

satorus mouth waters just thinking about all the treats he ate that night while he makes his way to the bakery. he may buy one of everything again today since gas station candies were not cutting it for him these past couple of days while he was gone for work. nothing was the same as your pastries, no gas station clerk was as pretty as you or made him smile the way you did.

he couldn’t get to the bakery fast enough.

he also couldn’t be more disappointed about the line out the door once he arrives. this busy on a thursday in the early afternoon? he’s come by at this time before and it’s never been like this but he supposes he has no choice but to wait. as the line moves forward and he’s able to peek through the window he notices the shop is missing its blue haired cashier. you come from the back with a tray full of freshly baked cookies and an aura satoru swears he’s never seen from you before.

coming in as often as he did, probably overstaying more than he should but he couldn’t help and you never complained, meant that satoru got to see some sides of you most customers didn’t. he’s seen you frustrated and overworked, he’s also seen you in relief, amusement and content happiness. but even through all his flirting with you he’s never once seen the pleased smile that’s on your face today or the glow behind it; not even a little stressed with how busy it is and the fact you’re running things by yourself.

he’s seen this glow, this smile before - he himself has provided it to others - but he’s never seen it on you and it lights an unfamiliar, uncomfortable, feeling in his chest that he can’t swallow down.

it’s not necessarily that he was hoping you’d be sad in his absence. okay maybe he was, knowing you were missing him would boost his ego quite a bit. but he never thought he’d come back to see you basically illuminating the bakery in your after sex glow or that he would be annoyed about it.

you’re a grown ass woman. so what if you were having sex? why should that matter to him? you aren’t his girlfriend or even anyone he’s dating at all. it shouldn’t matter that he’s wondered before what you would look like underneath him or how pretty your face would be after he makes a mess of you. he made himself hold back because he wanted to keep coming back here and he knew if he fucked you and never asked you out again that would have to stop.

you haven't had sex yet because he made it so but that didn’t mean he wanted to see you like this because of somebody else. plus, he knows he could make you feel a million times better than whoever this guy was.

the line dies down as he walks in and he wonders if you spot him near the door behind others. either way, you are unable to give him your attention with the last dozen or so customers that remain in the shop waiting to be taken care of, himself being the last one. he approaches the counter just as the couple sitting at one of the tables near the window walks out, the door bell jingling behind them.

“hey satoru!” you greet with a smile that was somehow brighter than the one you had worn when he first saw you today. “it’s been a few days, i was starting to worry about you.”

so you were thinking of him in his absence? good.

normally he’d take off his glasses, showcase his ocean eyes but today he keeps them on, thankful the dark lenses would hide his deep stare that he’s trying to keep from you entirely.

like you were unsure if he heard your welcome, you try again and he catches the unsteadiness in your voice. “i’ve got some new cake i’ve been trying to perfect, it's german chocolate. want a piece?”

“you must have been getting lonely trying new recipes by yourself.” he can hear the hostility behind his words.

“i don’t really mind baking by myself,” you say and he watches you bite your bottom lip and look down before trying to meet his gaze again with more confidence, a flirty lace to your tone. “but having a taste tester is always better.”

a very unwelcomed image of someone else tasting you pops into his head.

“i’m sure,” he replies through a clenched jaw.

hurt is painted all over your face and he feels his chest tighten knowing he was the one that made it so but your expression, dropping down to his tie instead of his face, is quickly morphing into something more akin to shame and then confusion.

if he’s being honest, he’s feeling just as confused as you look.

satoru didn’t get jealous, he’d swear up and down he’s not even now and yet, the thought of you with someone else has his blood boiling. the thought that while he was gone another had your attention made him beyond irritated, left his heart beating out of sync.

what were you doing to him?

it’s not too late, he decides in the awkward silence permeating between you. after all he was satoru gojo; handsome, charming, funny and he already had you on his hook. he may have to stop coming by after making you scream his name in bed, he’s not one for second dates or these particular attachments, but it was worth it to satisfy this annoying sting in his chest and finally give into his desire.

he calls your name, bringing you from your own thoughts and when he finally looks at you without his glasses on, the way your eyes light up, a complete 360 from your previous expression when you were deep in thought, brings him to smile and leaves a comforting warmth pooling in his chest.

you were too cute and he couldn’t wait to eat you up, show you there’s no one better than him.

“may i take you out on a date this weekend?”

✧˚ · .

main masterlist | chapter two: maybe not so lonely ➮➮➮

#satoru gojo #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x you #satoru gojo x you #jjk gojo #jujutsu kaisen gojo #gojou saturo #gojou satoru x reader #family + loyalty au

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kiss-me-cill-me · 4 months

Text

Cup of Coffee and a VHS | Pt. 1

Pairing: Neil Lewis x Reader Coffee Shop!AU

Word Count: 1.9k

Summary: The owner of the video rental place down the street from your newly-opened coffee shop is adorable. And awkward. An arrangement to trade free coffee for movie recommendations turns into something more when you discover you both have feelings for each other.

Warnings: None, aside from my questionable attempt at a meet-cute and copious amounts of fluff

A/N: This will be a short miniseries with four parts. The final part will contain smut, but for now it's just winter vibes and awkward fluff. Neil is adorable; I had a lot of fun writing him!

Life was going pretty good. After the grand opening of your cafe a few weeks ago, you had quickly settled into a routine that felt both comfortable and familiar. You were happy, and excited to finally be your own boss after spending so many years as a wage worker for various jobs that you weren’t really passionate about. Business had been surprisingly good, so far. Winter was always a good time for hot drinks and sweet pastries, so you couldn’t complain about the nip in the air as long as it sent people inside your little shop to seek shelter and caffeine.

The day you met Neil started out as a typical one. You got up early, as you always did, to trudge through the dark streets earlier than anyone else in this little sleepy town. Or so you thought.

Something made you turn around as you slid your key into the lock of your little coffee shop, and when you did you were met by a man in a somewhat ridiculous frilled shirt, walking down the street at three in the morning. He waved, noticing that you were looking at him, and then stuffed his hands in his pockets.

“Morning,” you said politely.

You figured that would be the end of the interaction. Instead, the man came closer to you and stopped in front of your store. Not hovering, exactly, but a bit too uncomfortably close for being alone with him in the middle of the night. You had turned back to focus on twirling your key in the lock, but now you whipped around to face him.

“Oh, sorry! Sorry…” the man chuckled. “I didn’t mean to freak you out. I just realized we’ve never met. I’m Neil Lewis; I own the video rental store down the street.”

He motioned back in the direction he had been walking from, and you relaxed a little. You did recognize him, now that you’d gotten a better look at his face. You had seen Neil around the little shopping district a few times, but had never spoken to him.

You told him your name and took the hand he had stretched out to you. His grip was surprisingly soft, but not flimsy. After shaking hands, you looked him up and down. He certainly was wearing an interesting outfit; almost as if he had come from a party, though you couldn’t imagine where there would be one around here at 3 a.m.

“If you don’t mind me asking, what are you doing out so early?” you asked. “Or maybe late? I can’t imagine many people rent videos at this time of night.”

Neil laughed, his breath puffing out in front of him in the freezing cold air. You noticed he wasn’t wearing a winter jacket; just a thin suit coat. And one that looked more costume-y than anything. His cheeks were red, and you had the strange urge to cup your gloved hands over them to warm him up.

“Oh! Yeah, no…” Neil mumbled. “I just stepped out for a little fresh air. We’re actually having a get-together for the premier of my shop’s commercial.”

“At… 3 a.m.?” you giggled.

“Well, the primetime slots are expensive, and… Hey,” Neil interrupted himself. “Would you mind if I stepped inside for a minute? It’s freezing out here, and I forgot my jacket.”

“Uh, sure, no problem.”

You finished unlocking the door and let Neil inside, holding the door for him to follow after you as you shook the sludge from your boots. You flipped the lights, and your little coffee shop was bathed in a warm, yellow glow.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I’m sorry to barge in, but I really appreciate you letting me warm up.”

“Don’t mention it.”

You weren’t sure what it was about Neil, but he somehow made the small space feel homey. Of course, you felt comfortable being in your own store, but Neil being here with you didn’t feel like as much of an intrusion as you would have thought it would be. Normally you opened and closed the shop alone. It was a little strange to have someone here with you as you hung up your jacket and peeled off your gloves, but not unwelcome.

“Would you like something warm to drink?” you offered.

“Sure! Hey, I’ll be your first customer of the day,” Neil said cheerfully.

“It’s on the house,” you told him, stepping behind the counter. “First one’s always free; it’s how I get people addicted.”

It took Neil a second to realize you were joking, but when he did a smile spread across his face. You felt your cheeks heat up a little, and not just from being out of the cold. You quickly turned around, grabbing your apron off the hook where you kept it.

“Well in that case, I’ll have whatever you recommend,” Neil beamed. “Chef’s choice.”

You couldn’t help but let a small smile spread across your lips. Neil pulled up a stool and watched you work; the only sound in the room was the gurgle of the espresso machine and the hiss of the frother as you steamed the milk. You quickly melted into the familiar routine of making a cappuccino. The process felt almost rhythmic and relaxing.

“So, what were you doing out there with no jacket in the middle of December?” you asked, trying to make small talk as you finished pouring the drink.

“Oh, like I said, just getting some air. Taking a break,” Neil answered.

“Not enjoying the party?”

You flicked your wrist to make a little pattern in the foamed milk, making sure it pooled just right at the top of the cup. Neil ran his hands over his face, resting his elbows on the counter.

“It’s not that,” he sighed. “It’s just… I dunno; it’s complicated. My girlfriend was supposed to show up, and she didn’t, and I know I shouldn’t be disappointed because she’s never really wanted anything to do with the shop, but…”

You stopped listening, still focused on the fact that Neil had a girlfriend. You weren’t quite sure why you were disappointed to learn that. You certainly had no reason to be. But something in your stomach had lurched when he’d mentioned her, and you’d almost spilled the cappuccino and had to start over. Neil let out a heavy breath of air as you put the drink down in front of him.

“I dunno; we’re probably going to break up,” he finished, wrapping his hands around the warm ceramic.

You perked up at that, and instantly felt terrible. Neil was obviously distraught by the idea. You tried to look sympathetic as you wiped down the counter.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” you said.

“It’s okay,” Neil sighed. “We just have different interests. Anyway, sorry to heap my sob story on you. You’re probably never going to want to have me back at this rate.”

That really couldn’t have been farther from the truth. Even though you didn’t want Neil to be sad, it was refreshing to meet a man who was sensitive. Sure, the whole situation was a little unexpected - you certainly hadn’t woken up this morning and thought that you would be sitting with the video rental store owner from down the street at three in the morning, commiserating over coffee. But, it had actually been a rather pleasant surprise to end up here.

“Well, it wouldn’t really be a good business move to get you addicted to the coffee and then ban you from the shop,” you joked.

Neil’s face brightened again, and he lifted the cup of steaming coffee to his lips. He smiled at you over the rim before taking a sip, and you watched as he closed his eyes to concentrate on the flavors.

“Hm… very, ah, robust,” Neil floundered.

You giggled, and stepped off to start making a drink for yourself. Neil took another sip, and you caught him grimacing slightly as he lowered the cup from his lips.

“Not a coffee drinker?” you guessed.

“I was hoping it wasn’t that obvious…”

You laughed again, and threw a glance in Neil’s direction. He was struggling through his third sip.

“You should have said so,” you scolded playfully. “Now I’m worried you’re the one who’s not gonna want to come back.”

“Hey,” Neil said, pointing a finger at you. “I would never turn down free anything, and besides, small businesses have to stick together, right? I’ll be back; don’t you worry.”

As if to prove his point, he took a gigantic gulp, remembering too late that the drink was hot. Neil sputtered and coughed, throwing a hand up to claw at his throat. The way his eyes bugged out of his head was funnier than it should have been.

“Neil, let me make you something you actually like next time,” you laughed, offering him a napkin.

He took it and wiped at his lips, setting the cappuccino back down on the counter. Your heart swelled again, for reasons you couldn’t fully understand.

“I’m sorry,” Neil apologized. “I’m sure you think I’m a total mess. And I mean, I guess I kind of am-”

“I don’t think that,” you interrupted. “I actually think you’re really sweet, and… maybe a little scatterbrained if you can forget to wear your coat when it’s practically zero degrees out.”

Neil blushed lightly. He looked down at his half-empty coffee cup, and you hoped you hadn’t offended him. Or made him uncomfortable. What had you been thinking - telling him you thought he was sweet? You opened your mouth to apologize, but Neil beat you to the punch.

“I really appreciate you letting me in,” he said again, smiling. “And the free drink. Sorry I’m not that into coffee…”

“You don’t have to apologize for that, Neil,” you laughed. “I’ll just have to figure out what you do like - coffee or not - so I can make it for you next time.”

“I’d like that,” he agreed. “But for now, I’ll get out of your hair. They’re probably all wondering where I wandered off to back at the shop, anyway…”

Neil got up to leave, and you walked around the counter to see him out. As he opened the door, you called for him to wait, and rushed over to your coat rack.

“I know it’s a short walk,” you said, holding out your scarf to him. “But just so you’re a little warmer.”

Neil let you wrap the scarf around him. It clashed horribly with his slightly silly getup, but it would do the job of keeping him warm.

“Are you sure?” Neil asked, touching the scarf.

You nodded.

“Think of it as collateral,” you told him. “You promised you’d come back, right? Now you have an excuse.”

The barest hint of a blush crossed Neil’s cheeks again, and he buried his face a little deeper in the scarf. The way his bangs brushed against his eyelashes nearly made your heart melt.

“Thank you,” Neil said. “I guess I’ll… see you soon?”

“See you soon,” you agreed.

And with that, Neil left the little cafe with a cold gust of air from outside. You bit your thumb, giddy suddenly and not sure what to do about it. Tingling with excitement, you turned around and set about getting ready for the day.

You left Neil’s coffee on the counter until it was practically time to open, not wanting to clear away the memory of him being there.

Read Pt. 2 HERE!

#neil lewis x reader #neil lewis #watching the detectives #cillian murphy x reader #LemmyFics

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chaosmagicss · 2 years

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little white lies (wanda maximoff x reader)

synopsis: wanda, the prettiest girl to ever walk into your work and order a coffee, is a terrible liar. you don’t have the heart to tell her.

warnings: wanda’s a bad liar but it’s okay bc she’s cute, mentions of bruising, basically just fluff, a teeny bit of hurt/comfort bc i can’t resist

words: 5.2k

a/n: sometimes you just need to write a cute little borderline-coffee-shop-au to feel something.

You meet Wanda Maximoff when she walks into your work at 2pm on a Wednesday and orders an iced latte.

Unsurprisingly, you make a fool of yourself, but who can blame you when she looks like that? You read the name on the cup, thinking pretty name when you call it out. As you approach the counter, you look up, and stupidly, the first thing to come out of your mouth when your eyes lock onto bright green eyes is, “Pretty face.”

The girl, Wanda, blushes and smiles - and wow - and your own face is warm as she says a soft, “Thank you.” You blink rapidly, eyes stuck on hers because dear lord even her voice is pretty. Your fingers clench around the plastic cup, and when the last thirty seconds finally catch up to you, you shake your head, eyes closing.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you fumble, “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”

Wanda’s smile grows, eyes twinkling with amusement. “It’s alright,” she says, and god, that accent… Russian? Something Eastern European, definitely. “It’s flattering.”

You open your mouth to respond, say anything to keep this conversation going, when an excited little boy holding onto his mother’s hand points to the television in the corner and exclaims, “Look, Mom! Avengers!”

Immediately, everyone’s attention is drawn to the television. Even most adults - including yourself - aren’t immune to it. There’s a blurry video playing on screen, showing what looks like a woman flinging around bits of rubble all covered in a red sort of glow. The video steadies for a second as the girl turns around, seemingly to check on whatever group of bystanders she was protecting, and the face you can just make out looks suspiciously like…

You turn back to Wanda, and find an empty space.

She’s gone, her coffee still in your hand. You do a quick scan of the coffeehouse and as much of the street as you can see, and you find nothing. Damn it. You sigh softly, putting the coffee aside just in case she comes back before turning to the next customer.

Once you get back to your dorm, mind racing, you find yourself crawling into a hole on the Internet of videos and reddit threads on the Avengers’ newest recruits, of which two have been announced – James Rhodes, War Machine, army colonel; Sam Wilson, the Falcon, ex-pilot – and two who have yet to even be figured out by the general public. One of them, a young man, is lightning-fast, and the other is the young woman seen on the news earlier.

The deeper you dive, the more sure you become that the woman is Wanda, the prettiest girl you’ve ever served coffee.

Miraculously, she comes back to the coffeehouse two days later. Your heart skips when the middle-aged man steps away after paying and you see her there, a shy little smile on her face and, worryingly, a bruise on her cheek. You manage to get through this order without embarrassing yourself, but when she tries to pay for her coffee, you deny her.

“You left your last one here,” you reason, “this one’s on the house.”

“Oh,” she stammers, cheeks flushing again. “I - I couldn’t—”

“Really, it’s fine,” you insist. “It’s, like, 5 bucks outta my paycheck. I’ll live.”

She tilts her head a little. “I thought you said it was on the house.”

You frown, leaning both hands against the counter as you feign thoughtfulness, and Wanda smiles. “No, I’m not sure I did,” you say, looking back to her. “Definitely said it was on me.”

Wanda huffs a laugh. “Well, in that case, I definitely can’t accept it.”

You click your tongue, taking her card from her when she holds it out to you. Your eyes flick to the bruise again, and curiosity gets the better of you. “What happened?” you ask, waving a hand towards your own cheek.

Wanda blinks, confused for a moment, before, “Oh, Nat—” She stops, eyes widening just a fraction, and you smother a smile. One of the Avenger’s newest recruits is a terrible liar, so it seems. “—alie… Natalie. My boxing instructor. Personal trainer. She - I didn’t duck in time. Total accident.”

You nod, choosing not to comment on the deep flush on her cheeks or the way she’s looking anywhere but you, rocking anxiously on the heels of her feet. You take the chance to pay for her coffee while she’s not paying attention; what she doesn’t know won’t hurt her.

“Well, you might wanna tell Natalie to start pulling her punches,” you say, bringing your eyes back to hers as you slide her latte across the counter. “Can’t have her messing up a pretty face like yours.”

The comment earns you something similar to a squeak. You don't blame her; you honestly can’t believe the words came out of your mouth, let alone that steadily. Wanda - not the Avenger - nods, reaching out to swipe her coffee from the bench. “I’ll - I’ll let her know,” she says, not meeting your eyes. “I - uh, bye.”

You smile. “See ya.”

She’s back again the next day. The coffeehouse is mulling with only a handful of patrons; the ones that usually stick around until closing, and you’re so focused on watching the news that clearly shows that the new woman on the Avengers’ line-up is Wanda that you fail to notice she’s approaching the counter.

“Hey.”

You almost jump out of your skin. An amused smile tugs at her lips, and it takes a moment for you to pull yourself together. “Hey. Hi. Sorry. I, uh—” You throw the washrag out of sight, wipe your hands on your apron, and give her a winning smile. “What can I do ya for?”

She twists her lips, nails drumming against the countertop. “Uh, actually, I’m not here for coffee.” You frown, and she smiles just a little. “I was wondering, would you like to hang out? If you’re free, that is. Tonight, I mean. It’s fine if you’re not. I just - I’m new to the city and I kinda… need a friend. That isn’t my brother. That’s what Steve said, anyway.”

Ah, yes. Steve. Another person that Wanda knows who, miraculously, has the same name as one of the world’s most famous superheroes but isn’t at all involved with the Avengers, because Wanda isn’t. Clearly.

You smile at her, heart fluttering in your chest.

“I’d love to,” you confirm. “Hang out tonight, that is.” Wanda blushes, but lets out a relieved little chuckle, the tension visibly draining from her shoulders. “I finish up in about 15. Wait for me?”

“Yeah,” Wanda says. “Yeah, sure.”

For the next two months, hanging out with Wanda becomes at least a weekly thing. She meets you at your work after your shift to accompany you back to your dorm or she just meets you there, and the two of you hang out for hours. You show Wanda your favourite movies and have nights where you binge old sitcoms that Wanda adores. You go for walks through the closest park or find some diner to have dinner in after you see a movie. It quickly becomes your favourite part of the week, and if you aren’t together, you’re talking to her by some means. Ellie, your roommate, has taken to calling her your girlfriend, and the comment makes you blush every time, which is probably the reason she’s so keen on making it.

Wanda’s excuses and poor attempts at a cover up just get worse and worse as it goes on, but she never bites the bullet and just tells you that she’s actually a superhero, always finding some workaround whenever you make a leading comment. Maybe it should annoy you, but it really just… doesn’t.

Wanda is Wanda; it doesn’t matter to you that she’s an Avenger, or that she’s so adamant about hiding it. What worries you is the scrapes and bruises she has almost every time you see her, ones that she brushes off whenever you ask about them. The thought of someone hurting her twists your insides up despite the fact that she can very clearly take care of herself, if the shaky footage circling Twitter is any indication.

Your first ever real panic over it is the week that she just stops responding to your texts. It isn’t rare for her to take a day or so to respond to you, but when you text her asking if she wants to come over that weekend and the message goes unanswered for three days, you sort of start to freak out.

Even Ellie seems sort of worried, even though she does what she can to convince you that Wanda’s fine.

It’s the fifth day of no contact, and you’re trying to study in the library, distracted by the TV mutely playing a news coverage of the Avengers’ latest public escapade in Brazil, when your phone rings. You glance at it, prepared to just hang up and wait until later to call whoever it is back, but when Wanda’s caller ID is what you see, you practically leap for your phone.

“Hello?”

A few people around you lift their heads to give you a dirty look, but you pay them no mind, your heart pounding with an overwhelming emotion that you don’t really have a name for.

“Hi,” Wanda says, and your breath leaves you in a relieved rush, because she’s there and she’s okay. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t ignoring you, not on purpose, I just got caught up with a family emergency and there wasn’t any reception where we were and I feel like an asshole—”

“No, it’s fine,” you cut in. “It’s okay. As long as you’re safe. You’re okay, right? You aren’t hurt?”

“I—” There’s a pause, a sharp little intake of breath. “Yeah, no,” she fumbles out, and suddenly she sounds exhausted. “I’m fine. Of course I’m fine. No one’s hurt.”

“Okay,” you mutter, mostly to yourself. You close your eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath. “Okay. That’s good.”

A few seconds of silence, and then, “Do you, uh, still want to do something this weekend? It’s - it’s fine, if not.”

“Yeah,” you say quietly. “‘Course I do. Wanna come ‘round on Sunday? Just after midday?”

“Sounds good,” Wanda says softly.

“You sound tired,” you tell her. She hums softly, but says nothing. “You should get some sleep.”

She breathes in, out. “I like listening to your voice. Can you talk, or are you busy?”

You look at your desk, at the notebook and your laptop, and you know you should probably get this done now so you don’t have to worry about it later, but you also know you won’t get a drop of work done if you know talking with Wanda until she falls asleep was the alternative. So, still ignoring the annoyed looks being sent your way, you press your phone to your ear with your shoulder and scramble to pack your things away.

“I can talk,” you say. “What d’you wanna talk about?”

“Anything,” she replies. “Tell me a story from when you were growing up.”

She’s asleep by the time you get back to your dorm, after you’ve switched the call to a FaceTime, and you only hang up the phone once you’re getting into bed yourself.

The next day, when you walk into your dorm room after an evening-run, Ellie practically jumps you, shooting off the small couch. “Dude, have you seen what’s trending on Twitter?”

You frown, sitting on the small stool by the door so you can pull off your shoes. “Uh, no? Why, what is it?”

“Your girlfriend’s an Avenger!”

You’re on your feet in an instant, pulling her away from the doorway so you can shut the door, because she’s talking so loud. “What? What are you talking about?”

She shoves her phone in your face, and sure enough, the Daily Bugle’s latest tweet shows a photo of Wanda, headline reading “EXCLUSIVE: The two previously unnamed Avengers are Wanda and Pietro Maximoff, Sokovian orphans.”

You blow out a breath, pushing down Ellie’s phone. Your heart is pounding. “Daily Bugle reported it. You know half their shit isn’t true.”

“It’s been up for, like, an hour. The New York Times posted it too. And CNN. It’s her, dude.” You clench your jaw, watch as Ellie starts to scroll through whatever article she’s reading. “Jesus. A Stark bomb blew up her apartment in Sokovia when she was a kid. Killed her parents. She and her brother volunteered for human experimentation a few years ago… HYDRA operating as SHIELD until Captain America blew it all to shit—”

“Okay, that’s enough,” you say sharply, snatching her phone out of her hand. Ellie lets out an affronted Hey! but you barely pay her any mind, pushing a hand back through your hair as you throw her phone onto the couch.

There’s a few seconds of silence before, “You already knew, didn’t you?”

“She didn’t tell me, but I - I had my suspicions. But she didn’t - it didn’t seem like it was something she wanted to talk about, so I never brought it up. She’s been through a lot of shit, Ellie, it’s awful that it’s just - out there, for everyone to read.”

“Okay,” Ellie relents, sitting on her bed. “Okay. Alright. I won’t read anymore. It’s probably gonna be taken down in like, a minute, anyway.” You nod, unable to meet her eyes. “Are you gonna… maybe you should call her.”

You blink, snapping yourself out of your head. “I, uh, yeah, I’ll text her. Just gonna have a quick shower, ‘cause I stink.”

You do as much, sending her a quick, call me when you can? hope you’re okay before stepping into the shower. You check your phone as you dry yourself off, heart twisting strangely when you don’t see any notifications from her. You sigh, pulling on your comfy clothes before stepping back into the main room.

“It got taken down,” Ellie says immediately. “Stark’s people are on it, dude. It’s literally disappearing as quickly as it comes up.”

Before you can respond, three knocks come to the door, rapid and almost panicked. You pull the door open the second you reach it, and your heart drops when you see Wanda on the other side of it.

And Jesus, she looks - she looks like a mess. Her eyes are brimming with tears, her whole body trembling. There’s a nasty bruise decorating the curve of her jaw and her left eyebrow is stitched up. Her face is blotchy from crying, her lips pulled into a pout as she tries to fight off another onslaught of tears.

She sucks in an uneven breath, and the sound snaps you out of your shock.

“Hey,” you fumble out, reaching for her wrist to pull her inside, and she all but falls into you, arms wrapping tight around your waist as sobs escape her, making her shoulders jolt. “Hey. It’s okay. You’re okay.”

“Sorry,” she gasps. “I’m sorry. I just - someone found out and spread it around and now everybody knows and, and, it’s all over the news. They know about mama and papa and the bomb, and I just - I don’t know—”

“It’s alright,” you ease, closing the door before smoothing a hand over her back. “It’s fine. Just breathe, alright? Match my breathing. Can you do that?”

She nods, fingers tightening in the back of your shirt as she hides against your shoulder, taking slow, deep breaths against you. Your eyes catch Ellie’s from where she’s sitting on her bed, her face pulled together in concern. Wanda takes her first steady breath, and leans further into you.

“I’m sorry,” she says again. “I’m sorry for lying. I’m sorry.”

You shake your head. “Don’t worry about that,” you tell her, leaning back. Wanda lets you go, albeit reluctantly, wiping at her face with her sleeves.

“Can I - I mean - is it okay if… if I stay the night?” she asks, watery green eyes peering up into yours. You couldn’t say no even if you wanted to.

You nod gently, tucking an escaped strand of dark hair behind her ear. “Yeah,” you say softly. “Of course. Do… does someone know where you are?” She nods. “Okay.” You turn to face your roommate to find she’s already packing a bag. “Oh, Ellie, you don’t have to—”

“No, dude, it’s fine,” she says. “I’ll go stay in Harry’s room. Don’t stress. And I won’t - I won’t tell anyone. Obviously.”

Wanda swallows thickly. “Ellie, I’m - I’m sorry.”

Ellie flashes her a smile. “Really, it’s no biggie. I’ll be back in the morning, yeah? Lemme know if you need anything. Either of you.”

Wanda nods, and Ellie gives you the both of you a quick thumbs up before slipping out into the hall. Wanda exhales heavily, leaning back against your shoulder. “I’m sorry.”

You shake your head, gently urging her back so you can lift your hands to her face, closely assessing the stitch on her brow. Worry makes your heart pound again; you know that bruises and bumps are apart of her job description, but knowing that doesn’t make seeing it any easier.

Wanda bites her lip, lifts a hand to grab yours, gentle fingers curling around your wrist. “It’s okay,” she whispers, “it’s not as bad as it looks. Doctor Cho stitched it up so I didn’t accidentally open it again. That’s all.”

You nod softly, pressing under her chin and angling her face so you can see the colourful bruise painting her jaw. Carefully, you brush your fingers over the skin, and Wanda shivers a little at the touch.

“That one feels as bad as it looks,” she whispers, and suddenly, with your fingers running feather-light over the bruise again, you’re smacked in the face with the urge to kiss it better. Wanda jolts a little in place, eyes snapping to yours with flushed cheeks, a barely audible, “Oh,” slipping past her lips.

Quickly, you drop your hand, thinking you must have hurt her. “Sorry,” you murmur.

Wanda shakes her head. “It’s okay.”

You swallow thickly, eyes dropping back to hers, and Wanda blinks slowly up at you. Your heart starts to pound for a whole different reason. You lick at your bottom lip, shake away the inappropriate thought and avert your eyes as you take her hand in yours and start to lead her towards your side of the room.

“I’m sorry,” she says again, as she’s sitting on the bed. “I didn’t - Ellie didn’t have to go.”

“Don’t be sorry,” you say, stepping over to your closet to find a pair of shorts for her. “If she minded, she would’ve said so. It’s fine. Promise.” Wanda works her jaw, catching your eyes as you hand her the clothes. “Go on. Get changed. I’ll put on a sitcom.”

She swallows thickly, then nods, quietly ducking into the bathroom. You grab the blanket off Ellie’s bed to steal for the night, turning off the lights and setting up The Dick Van Dyke Show on your laptop. Wanda comes out of the bathroom a minute or two after you’ve finished, fingers twisting together anxiously as she hesitates. Your eyes drag over her, briefly appreciating the sight of her in your clothes before giving her a small smile, lifting the blanket invitingly with a quiet, “C’mere.”

Wanda takes a breath before scooting into bed, and you push back against the wall to give her as much space as the twin sized bed allows. Wanda, however, has other plans. You’re only a few minutes into the episode when she rolls to face you, grabbing your waist to urge you closer until she can hide against you. You slip an arm under her head, her hair tickling your arm as she tangles your legs. The closeness takes your breath away, and you struggle to keep your heart beating regularly as Wanda settles with a small sigh.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers for what must be the hundredth time.

You swallow hard. “What for?”

��Everything,” she says. “Not telling you who I was, mostly.”

“It’s okay,” you say softly. “If… if I’m being honest, I sort’ve already knew.”

Wanda pulls back to look at you, brow furrowed in confusion, and god your faces are so close. “What d’you mean?”

“I mean, like, I knew you were an Avenger.”

Her furrowed brow deepens. “How?”

You smile a little. “Well, first off, you’re a pretty terrible liar.” Wanda scoffs, fingers digging into your side until you squirm away from her. She gives up almost immediately, grabbing you to keep her close to her. “And second, there were way too many coincidences - you being from Sokovia, you always having some sort of minor injury, the fact that you know people named Nat and Steve and Sam, and I just… I dunno. I had a feeling.” She hums, hiding her face again, and that’s the only reason you have the courage to let the next words slip out of your mouth. “Plus, you’re, like, the most beautiful person I’ve ever seen. A few grainy Twitter videos can’t hide that.”

She doesn’t say anything in response to that, just burrows further into you, holds you a little tighter, and your heart thumps solidly enough in your chest that you're sure she can feel it. You fall into an easy silence for a little while, Wanda just breathing against you while you watch the sitcom playing quietly on your laptop screen.

“So, you’re not…” She shifts, tilts her face so her voice isn’t as muffled. “You’re not scared of me?”

The question catches you off guard. You frown, pulling back and looking at her once you can. She bites into her lip, eyes skirting your face. “Scared of you?” you echo. “Why would I be scared of you?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know,” she whispers. “I just… I’ve got all these powers that I don’t understand. I feel like a walking timebomb. If I feel anything too strongly, I lose control. I can’t imagine why anyone wouldn’t be scared of me.”

You smile, albeit a little sadly. “Well, I’m not. At all.”

Wanda frowns a little, brow creasing. “And you’re not upset I lied? Or, I guess, tried to?”

“Nope.” She blinks, lips pulling down into a curious little pout, and you have the urge to kiss it away. After a few moments of watching you like she’s trying to decipher if you’re being honest or not, she sighs and tucks her head back under your chin, her fingers curling into the back of your shirt. You swallow thickly, smooth a hand over her back as she takes a breath. “You wanna sleep?”

She hums an affirmative. “Can we keep the show on? Have it on while we sleep?”

You nod, and without even really thinking, tilt your head down to press a kiss to the top of her head. She sighs again, almost in relief, and the sound of the show's laugh track fills the silence that falls between you. “I like this episode,” she whispers.

You breathe a tiny laugh, arm tightening around her waist. “You’re so weird,” you murmur affectionately. Wanda giggles, and the sound warms your chest, glad that you’ve pulled one out of her.

She falls quiet, then, and you find yourself getting pulled into the old sitcom. You play absentmindedly with her hair, despite the slightly awkward angle that the action puts your wrist at, and you don’t even realise she’s asleep until you’ve watched three episodes and you go to ask her if she wants to turn it off. You go still when you notice, heart leaping when Wanda lets out a disgruntled grunt against you, burrowing further into your shoulder to close the small distance you’d created when you tried to get her attention.

You blink, freezing momentarily. And then, with a soft grunt of effort, you close the laptop and manage to shift it onto the windowsill behind your bed. Wanda grumbles again at the movement, half asleep as she mumbles something under her breath, something you’re not sure was in English.

You swallow dryly as you settle again, smooth a hand over her shoulders, and whisper a barely audible, “Sorry.” Wanda lets out another small hum, still asleep, and sighs.

As she nuzzles into you, her body relaxing against you, you know you love her.

The realisation hits you all at once, and surprisingly, all you feel is a sense of contentment.

You love Wanda Maximoff.

You take a deep breath, breathe in the smell of her shampoo, and let your eyes fall shut.

When you wake the next morning, it’s only because Wanda is slipping out of your hold. You grumble tiredly at the disruption, missing the warmth of her against you, and Wanda freezes on the edge of the bed, turning over her shoulder to look at you. You hum, manage a tired smile. “G’mornin’,” you mumble.

“Hi,” Wanda says, voice raspy with sleep, cheeks flushing. “Sorry. I tried not to wake you.”

“‘S okay,” you dismiss, rolling onto your back and rubbing at your eyes. “I’m a light sleeper.” Wanda hums again, stretching her arms above her head, and you have to force yourself not to look at the skin that shows as the shirt rides up. You swallow dryly, watch as she starts to pull her sneakers on. “What time is it?”

“10,” she says softly. “I was just leaving.”

“Leaving?” Wanda nods. “How…?”

“Nat’s downstairs.” You blink, rub some of the sleep out of your eyes as you push to sit up and crawl out of bed.

“I’ll walk you down,” you mutter, “just gimme a sec.”

Ten minutes later, you’re approaching a sleek black corvette, holding the hand of one Avenger while another waits in the driver’s seat of said black corvette. A tinted window slides down, and your legs almost give out. Wanda’s fingers tighten around yours at the shaky breath you let out.

Natasha fucking Romanoff pushes her sunglasses atop of her head and addresses Wanda with an unreadable look. “You know, it took me two hours to convince Steve not to send the whole compound on a city-wide search for you.”

Wanda sighs softly. “I told you—”

“You were at a friend’s dorm, I know.” Her eyes dart to you. “I take it you’re said friend?”

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth as you fumble for a response. “Y-yes, ma’am. Sorry.”

Natasha grins, then, gaze shifting back to Wanda. “Cute,” she says, and then she pulls her sunglasses back down. “Alright. Let’s go; we gotta stop for groceries on the way home.”

Wanda nods, and turns to face you, thumb stroking over your knuckles. “Thank you,” she says softly. “For, well, everything.”

You shrug, give her a tiny smile. “You don’t have to thank me,” you reply. Wanda gives you a look, and your smile widens. Your eyes drift back down to her bruise; it’s only gotten worse overnight, more purple and you’re certain, more painful. You click your tongue a little, lifting your hand to so, so delicately, tip her chin up so you can get a proper look at it. “That looks sore.”

“It’s not my first bruise, believe it or not,” she says jokingly, but a little breathless. Her cheeks are flushed, you realise, pupils dilated as she looks at you. You swallow dryly, shift your hand up to push a loose strand behind her ear.

“Well, if it’s any consolation, you make the whole beat-up look work.”

Wanda huffs, and you drop your hand, grinning along with her. She twists her lips thoughtfully after a moment, blinking slowly, and then she leans in close and, in what you’re sure was an attempt at stopping your heart, presses a kiss dangerously close to the corner of your mouth. She leans back just enough to look at you, eyes shifting between your eyes and your mouth, squeezes your fingers. “I’ll talk to you later?”

You clear your throat and manage a nod, brain spinning, that thought ever so persistent in your mind again: Kiss her.

Wanda’s face shifts, then, brows pulling together in seriousness. “Y/N,” she says, voice hardly a whisper. You hum in acknowledgement, willing the thought away, but unable to tear your eyes away from the soft pink flesh of her mouth as her teeth sink into her bottom lip. Her hand slides from yours only so she can cup your face, and your heart skips as she blinks up at you, a nervous little grin tugging up one corner of her mouth. “You know I can read minds, right?”

Your jaw drops. “You - you what?”

She huffs a laugh. “I can read minds,” she says again, stepping in so close you’re practically pressed flush together. “It’s not always on purpose; if the thought is loud enough and you aren’t hiding it, I can’t really help it.” Your cheeks are burning, but Wanda’s smile isn’t teasing, just adoring. “And if I have to hear you think about kissing me without you doing anything about it one more time, I’m gonna lose it.”

“Oh,” you say, and Wanda hums, hands sliding down to rest lazily against the sides of your neck, her thumbs stroking your jaw. You swallow hard, looking down at her mouth when her tongue darts out to dampen it. “I—” You clear your throat, eyes darting briefly to the car. “The Black Widow is right there.”

Wanda grins, shakes her head a little and leans in so close you can feel her breath on your lips, practically taunting you. “It’s not like she’s gonna ground me,” she whispers.

Your desire to not embarrass yourself in front of every 20-something girl’s childhood hero has nothing on your desire to kiss Wanda Maximoff, so you throw your nerves to the curb and lean in to kiss her.

It’s soft and sweet; your hands find her waist, and you know only a second into the kiss that the feeling of Wanda’s mouth on yours is the only thing you’re going to be thinking about for the rest of your life. Wanda breaks away all too soon for your liking, a blush on her cheeks and a flustered little grin on her lips. You can’t imagine you look much different.

You drop your hands as Wanda does, stuffing them instead into your pocket. Wanda giggles, and takes a few steps towards the car. “Okay. Okay, I’ve gotta…”

You nod. “Yeah. I’ll call you later.”

She bites her lip to try and hide her grin, but it just makes you want to kiss her again. Just as it looks like she’s about to turn around and get into the car, she bounds up to you and grabs your face, presses another quick kiss to your mouth.

“Okay,” she says again, dropping a kiss to your cheek, still looking at you with that wide grin. “I’m going now.”

You laugh, giddy as you watch her open the door to the passenger seat. “Bye.”

She grins. “Bye.”

She gets in the car, and almost immediately, Natasha is pulling away. You watch the car disappear, and the second it’s out of sight, it takes all of your willpower not to do a happy dance. Instead, you settle for a giddy little jump, head tipping up to the sky before you spin on your heel and start to make your way back towards your dorm.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda fluff #j is writing #mine

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sky-kiss · 5 months

Note

Begging pleading requesting bribing with many likes and reblogs for more of the coffee shop / professor au 🥺 it brings me immense joy it's so cute

A/N: I’m so sorry, I remember you requested something spicy and this is SO SHORT. And not spicy.

_____

Raph x Tav: Let’s be Honest: His Shower is Nicer

_____

She works Saturday morning. She has dinner plans with Raphael that evening.

She arrives at his door stinking of espresso and baked goods. Not awful. But she's smelled that way since 5 AM, and she's sick of it. Shadowheart calls out, and Tav is left to close shop around six that evening. Too close to dinner for a shower.

She asks to reschedule. He insists she will be welcome regardless of her current state. And she wants to be with him. It's so fucking superior to spending a night huddled up on her sofa snacking on last night's takeout.

Raphael favors her with a new expression: his nose scrunches up; his eyebrows tick down. And his mouth does something inexplicable where it manages to both purse and turn up. He's either about to laugh or constipated. The professor clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for her. She doesn't have a coat to take, so he smooths his hands over her shoulders, blessedly warm. He doesn't kiss her; that's too soft. He chucks her under the chin instead, huffing. “You're quite a sight.”

“It was a long day.”

“Mm.” He plucks a bit of something from her hair: coffee grounds. “So I see. Come, let’s see if we can’t turn the evening around.”

She smiles despite herself, chewing her lower lip and dipping her chin. His apartment smells pleasantly of garlic and a medley of other smiles. The professor regards her for a moment, smirking when she shifts. “Uncomfortable, pet?”

The moniker always does something horrible to her stomach. “You put so much effort into everything and I just…” she motions to herself, shrugging.

“There’s something to be said for a more…rustic beauty.” Raphael hums. His eyes glitter. “You might avail yourself of my shower. And I could be induced to lend you something to wear.”

Gods, the notion of curling up on the sofa in one of his sweaters, smelling of his body wash and cologne, appeals so strongly that the strength nearly leaves her legs. She holds her hands out to him, fluttering her eyelashes. “Any suggested inducements?”

He laughs, low and smooth, dipping his head to kiss her and walk her back towards the shower.

______

In a testament to his infernal heritage, Raphael’s showers may be classified by many as “too hot.”

Tav would call them “this side of fucking scalding,” but she is cold enough that it sounds appealing. She shrugs out of her clothes (Raphael gathers and folds them, tsking). Raphael holds his arms out wide, arched in a challenge. It is her task to undress him. One she takes to with no small amount of vigor. She tracks every new inch of skin with her lips, hands carding over his chest and stomach. Tav smoothes her fingers through the smattering of hair across his pectorals, chuckling at how he purrs, crowding nearer.

Tactile, tactile, brushing the back of his fingers up and over her ribs. She braces her hands on his shoulders, giving herself some leverage as she wraps her legs around his hips. Raphael adjusts her, arms linking beneath her ass to hold her steady. Tav leans in to kiss him, smiling against his lips, “How are you so handsome? You keep getting more handsome.”

Raphael laughs, “A trade secret, pet. Mine to keep.” He steps forward, positioning them under the warm spray of water. Tav scratches her nails over the back of his scalp. Raphael lifts her again, enough to suck a bruise beneath her right breast. A scar, long since healed, but a distinctive mark. His favorite.

“Bet I could get it out of you.”

“Mm, the mouse's whiles against the fox's cunning? Whoever will prevail?”

Tav can’t say she cares. In this one regard, she’s happy to lose. It’s warm: the water, him, everything. Tav kisses the crown of his skull, folding herself around him as best she can. It feels necessary. Every inch of her needs to touch him.

#bg3 raphael #raphael x tav #asks #my writing #coffee shop au #fluff #sorry i had ambitions of writing a whole shower scene #but I am sleepy #sleepy and soft

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fortune-fool02 · 1 year

Text

Late-Night Coffee

Leon Kennedy x Barista female reader

Summary: Another long work day in the café, and a sweet moment between the barista and the rookie.

Coffee Shop AU

Warning: Fluff. No Spoilers for Resident Evil 2 remake.

Something cute and sweet for baby boy Leon. If it goes well, I might write a part two. Please enjoy!

After passing over the last order for the day, [Name] gave a small sigh. Today had been quite busy, leaving her and her colleagues without a moment to have a proper break but they were able to make it to the end of the day without any issues. The soft patter of rain hitting the windows blended with the light-toned music that filled the warm café. Only one customer remained.

[Name] quickly wiped down the counter before slipping from behind the counter and walked over to the dozing man. He had arrived an hour ago after finishing his shift at work, looking drained of energy. His police uniform a little crinkled but still composed. Gently pushing the empty cup aside, [Name] gently shook his shoulder,

“Leon? It’s time to wake up.” She softly spoke, smiling as his sleepy face. Leon started coming here almost religiously since he started work at Racoon Police Department. It started as pleasant service but soon developed into something more, a sweet friendship over warm cups and welcoming aromas. Tonight, though, Leon just wanted someplace to relax after a hard day, so [Name] didn’t see any issue with letting him stay for a bit until the rain stopped.

Her other colleagues had left not too long ago, as the day was over with, and left her to lock up the café. Nothing new but she didn’t mind. It gave her time to think and relax after a long day, as well as letting Leon get some more sleep.

“Hm? Wha?” Lifting his head, Leon forced his eyes open, blinking away the sleep and taking in his surroundings. Bits of his dark blonde hair sticking to his face from laying his head on his arm. Sitting upright, he stretched his arms, his back lightly cracking as he did. At least the seats were comfy, not like those solid plastic ones Leon had to endure for hours on end at his desk when not out on patrol.

“Sorry, [Name]. I guess I was more tired than I realised.” He smiled, his sky blue eyes sparkling in the light a bit. Taking the empty cup and saucer, [Name] simply waved it off. He brought his hands up to his hair, trying to smoothen it out a bit more.

“Don’t worry about it. It’s the least I can do for our young rookie officer.” The two lightly chuckled at that, the nickname had stuck for a bit now, though he didn’t mind it coming from her. Leon pushed himself up and looked towards the window, pulling his jacket from behind the chair.

“Still raining? At least it’s not as bad as before.” He thought aloud, ensuring he had all of his stuff.

“You got your car?” A small headshake was her answer. The car needed some repairs done and wouldn’t be ready for another day or two. [Name] stopped and thought. Leon lived a few streets away, and she not too far away either. Plus, he was quite cute. “If you want, you can stay at my place for the night. It’s no trouble.”

A look of surprise covered Leon’s face, the faintest hint of a pink touching his cheeks companied with a small smile. “If it’s fine with you, I wouldn’t mind. Thank you.” Flutters of a comforting warmth filled her chest at this, something about that look in Leon’s eyes made her feel light and bubbly. Looking over at him, she noted the look on his face, as if he was conflicted with something.

“Is something wrong, Leon?” The rookie looked at her, his mouth opening and closing, unsure if he wanted to tell her something or not. He took a step closer, trying to muster some speck of courage.

“Well, I was... wondering if, well...” He mentally cursed himself. He could deal with criminals all day long, but trying to talk to [Name]? Near impossible at this point. “I wanted to ask if... you wanted to go someplace and... do something sometime.” He was not expecting it to sound so clunky, a high-school kid trying to ask a girl out but his nerves getting the better of him. His face flushing with a heat that almost burned his cheeks.

A soft chuckle left her lips at this, her own cheeks tinting pink at his question. “That sounds like fun, Leon. Just say when and the time.” The two headed towards her car once the café was closed up, neither able to stop smiling as they settled in a comfortable silence.

He certainly was going to make the date memorable for her.

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy #leon scott kennedy x reader #leon s. kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 2 remake #leon kennedy

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praetorqueenreyna · 4 months

Text

For our little ACOTAR gift exchange! This is a gift fic for @taymartiart, who is one of the BEST artists I've ever met! When asked what she wanted me to write, she said "accidental dick pic." This was so much fun, I love silly modern AUs! Enjoy!

Read here on AO3, or continue reading below:

Rhysand was about ready to silence his phone for the evening. It had been pinging non-stop as war raged on in the group chat. It had started with Mor saying she was craving a sparkling water, and Cassian replying to ask why she liked drinking raw sewage. That had been two hours ago, long past the point that Rhysand thought it was funny. He had also found Amren’s threat to murder Cassian by replacing his blood with sparkling water a little alarming.

There were a few minutes of peace where his phone made no noise at all. The reprieve was interrupted by a lone ding. Rhysand sighed, fully expecting the barrage to begin once again. When it didn’t, he risked actually checking his phone. The text was not from the group chat (ironically named “The Inner Circle” after Mor got way too into mafia movies, and Rhysand didn’t know how to change it), but was from Tamlin. It was a welcome distraction. Tamlin was a little weird, but Rhysand liked him. They had both started off as their fathers’ proteges, expected to take on the family business. Rhysand had fulfilled his end of the bargain, and Tamlin had run off to play guitar in coffee shops around town. An absolutely ridiculous career move, but it was endearing, in its own way.

It didn’t hurt that Tamlin was super hot and also into guys. Rhysand wasn’t too proud to admit that. He had tested the waters, putting on his most seductive voice to tease Tamlin, always just on the edge of outright flirtation. Every time, Tamlin turned a splotchy red and adorably ducked his head, which only made Rhysand want to do it again.

There was no text preview for the message; it only had an attached image. Rhysand opened it and blinked. He had worked a long day, and surely he was hallucinating. Staring at his phone didn’t change anything, and he finally accepted that Tamlin had sent him a picture of his dick.

It was nice, both the dick itself and the picture. Good size, good lighting, good angle. The photo captured his well-defined abs and a small tattoo on his hip bone. Rhysand zoomed in on the picture to see that the tattoo was a name. Alex, maybe? Or Alec? He had no idea why Tamlin had sent him this. The last text exchanged between them was from a week ago, when Rhysand had asked if he was playing this weekend. Nothing to indicate that the next step would be dick pics.

More curious than upset, Rhysand quickly typed out a message.

”Nice tattoo. Ex boyfriend?”

Tamlin began replying right away, in a series of rapid fire messages.

”What?”

“Oh.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh no no no no no.”

“I am SO sorry!!!! I didn’t mean to send that to you!!! I’d never do something like that!!!”

The overuse of exclamation points aside, Rhysand felt bad for him.

”It’s all good, I swear. Not the first dick I’ve seen.”

The reply was instantaneous.

”Oh good!! Not that you’ve seen dicks, that you’re not mad. I’m really sorry.

He probably could have ended it there, but Rhysand was intrigued.

”Who was it for?”

Tamlin didn’t respond for a bit, and Rhysand worried he had overstepped. It was an unexpected relief when another message came in.

”Some guy from Grindr. A friend signed me up for it because I haven’t gone on a date in a while. His name also begins with an R.”

The thought of Tamlin and his awkward demeanor cruising on Grindr was honestly hilarious. This friend had to have been fucking with him. Then again, he never would have expected Tamlin to send a dick pic to a random guy on a dating app, and here they were.

”Already at the dick pic stage? Seems like it's getting serious.”

This time, the reply was faster.

”Ha ha. I actually haven’t even met him yet. We were just talking and he asked for a picture. I’ve never done that before and thought what the hell. And then immediately fucked it up.”

Tamlin was way too sweet and sincere for the guys on Grindr. Thinking fast, Rhysand searched for and downloaded a photo of the Washington Monument. Before he could let Tamlin stew in his self pity for too long, he sent:

”We’ve all fucked up. I’ll send you a pic too, so we’re even.”

He attached the downloaded photo, only thinking to question the joke after he had sent it. It was familiar, bordering on flirtatious. The kind of thing he’d usually only send to Azriel or Cassian. His phone pinged.

”No wonder your ego is huge.”

Another text came in, this time a photo of a male mallard with the title “duck pic.” Rhysand actually laughed. He shot back something about the head of the duck being bright green, and maybe he should get that looked at. Tamlin coyly asked if he knew any good doctors. Holy shit, was Tamlin hitting on him? He knew that Rhysand was a doctor; more accurately a surgeon, working in his father’s clinic.

Rhysand found himself draped over the couch, texting with Tamlin for over an hour. The mortifying start to their conversation seemed to loosen something in him. He was funnier and more charming than Rhysand had ever seen. It felt special, to have Tamlin be so open with him. The thought of Tamlin being like this with “random guy from Grindr who’s name begins with R” filled Rhysand with a seething hot emotion that he eventually identified as jealousy.

When the conversation seemed like it was drifting to an end, Rhysand made his move. He selected one of his own pictures from a hidden folder on his phone (yes he had his own dick pics saved for occasions like this) and sent it. He waited a few seconds, then wrote:

”If you want to keep going, give me a call.”

The urge to throw his phone across the room overwhelmed him. He resorted to putting it face down on the coffee table and staring pointedly at the ceiling. The next minute was the longest of his life. But then, like a miracle, his phone began to ring.

*****************************

One month later

“You owe me a thank you drink.”

“What did you do now?” Tamlin asked, only giving half of his attention to the giant man sitting on the floor. His roommate was supposed to be helping him set up, which mostly just involved finding a stool for Tamlin to sit on. Mission accomplished, Andras sat back on his hands, watching as Tamlin fiddled with his guitar. The coffee shop was almost empty, but it would start to fill up as Tamlin’s set started. He was a regular here.

“Don’t try that innocent act on me, I know all your secrets.” Andras pointed an accusing finger. “You found a hookup on Grindr. You’re welcome.”

“What? No I didn’t.”

“Yes you did. I know all the signs. Lucien and I barely see you anymore, you haven’t brooded in weeks, and I found this in your backpack.” For his final exhibit, Andras brandished a small foil packet that revealed itself to be a condom when he stopped shaking it around.

“Stop that!” Blushing, Tamlin snatched the condom out of Andras’s hand. “Why were you going through my backpack anyway?”

“Don’t change the subject. Who is it? That guy with the blue hair? What was his name, Ryan?”

“What are you guys talking about?” Tamlin’s second roommate, Lucien, asked, appearing as if summoned by an omniscient being that wanted to ruin Tamlin’s life.

“Tamlin’s new boy toy,” Andras answered before Tamlin could.

“Ooooooh. Is it that guy with the septum piercing? Rowan?”

Tamlin was about to tell them that he was moving out and they were never allowed to talk to him again when his gaze caught a familiar dark-haired figure swagger into the coffee shop. His heart stuttered, his breath caught in his throat. Rhys sat down at a table near his little stage, leaning back in the seat. He saw Tamlin staring and grinned, waggling his fingers obnoxiously in greeting.

Of course, Rhys had known where he was going. Tamlin had come here straight from Rhys’s apartment, having barely escaped from the lean arms that had grabbed at him, inviting him back into the comforting warmth of Rhys’s bed. Tamlin just hadn’t thought that Rhys would actually show up.

Too late, he remembered that he was in public, being scrutinized by the two people who knew him better than they knew themselves. He watched in horror as Andras and Lucien looked back and forth between Tamlin and Rhysand. Recognition dawned on their faces. At the same time, they said,

“No fucking way.”

#acotar #a court of thorns and roses #tamsand #tamlin #rhysand #tamlin/rhysand #fanfic #my fic #MERR CHRISMAS TAY #HUGS AND KISSES

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trulybetty · 5 months

Text

dec' 12 x mulled wine

Prompt: mulled wine Pairing: joel miller x f!Reader Word Count: 2,635 Warnings: barely beta'd, all mistakes my own, this is au and way off the plot of anything to do with TLOU, mentions of coffee, wine and festive fluff ☕ Summary: maplewood, a small town nestled in northern bc where people flock to see the festive decorations of main street and enjoy the festive traditions. finding yourself back home and working for the family business, you strike up a friendship with the town's local contractor. AO3: Linked

x. masterlist

A/N: apologies for the delay, no one has slept in the Truly house the last two nights and I somehow have messed up my shoulder. Currently drowning in coffee and painkillers - so if this doesn't make sense you know why 😆

The Little Coffee Shop Around the Corner Part II

It had been a week since you had talked to Joel about working on the coffee shop. The two of you went back and forth over email, and that was between his early morning stops for coffee. You'd have his drink already prepared by the time the bell jingled at 7:50 am signifying his arrival. Tossing your apron aside and grabbing your own drink you'd go and meet him at the table in front of the window to discuss the latest update of his ideas for the shop.

It was early evening when the bell rang at the door and you looked up to see Joel step in and lock the door behind him.

“You should have that locked past closing.”

You laughed as you rounded the bar to start a drink for the two of you, “Joel, this is Maplewood. The only crime that's been worth reporting was when Bill found gnomes in his yard.”

Joel shrugged off his plaid jacket and hung it on the back of his chair before he sat down.

“Did they ever figure out who did it?”

You laughed as you brought over your drinks and a selection of sugar cookies Marcus had dropped by for tomorrow's display case.

A grin spread across your face as you leaned in closer, speaking in a hushed tone, “Off the record, and between you and I? I have my suspicions.”

“That so? Who do you think it is?”

“Ellie,” you responded with a roll of your eyes.

His eyebrows raised in recognition, “She’s your niece, right? Lives with you?”

You nodded, “My sister Anna's kid yeah, with my mom and I.”

“I remember hearing about your sister, I'm sorry.”

“It's okay, it's been fourteen years now - Ellie reminds me of her a lot.”

Joel chuckled, “So she inherited the family tradition of placing gnomes in people's yards?”

A joyful laugh escaped your lips, the kind that brought tears to your eyes. It was refreshing to share stories and memories of your sister with someone who didn't give you a pitying look when inevitably it was mentioned how she had passed away during childbirth with Ellie. You knew people meant well, but it was nice to focus on the happy moments and remember just how amazing Anna truly was.

You wiped a tear from your eye, “No, but she was usually the one causing trouble wherever she went. Dragging me along with her into the thick of it.”

Joel smiled, “So what makes you think it was Ellie?”

“Aside from finding a random gnome in the laundry room? Well that and the fact Bill pissed her off the week before,” you took a bite of your cookie, brushing the crumbs from your hands, “Bill teaches music, right? So Ellie had been taking guitar lessons from him. She's got a real talent for it, but Bill, well, he's a bit of a stickler for the rules. He told her she needed to focus more on the basics before trying to play the songs she actually likes. Ellie didn't take too kindly to that.”

Joel chuckled, clearly amused, “So, she waged a gnome war as payback?”

You nodded, a small smile still playing on your lips. “I don't necessarily outwardly support it, but out of all the ways to get revenge, this was definitely a unique form of protest,” you admitted. “Though now, well Ellie's out of a guitar teacher.”

Joel's eyes twinkled with a hint of mischief. “Maybe I could offer her a lesson or two. I play guitar, not professionally, but I’ve been strumming since my teenage years. It might be good for Ellie to learn from someone who’s a bit more... let’s say, flexible with the rules.”

You raised an eyebrow, pleasantly surprised. “You play guitar? I had no idea. That would be amazing, Joel. Ellie’s really passionate about it, but she's definitely got her own style. She’d love to learn from someone who'd encourage that.”

As you chatted, the conversation carried on smoothly until it finally circled back to the purpose of Joel's visit.

He unrolled his first set of plans, “After our last conversation, I got to thinking about this place. Its history, its importance to Maplewood. So, I did some digging.”

He spread out an array of photos and documents across the table. The first thing that caught your eye was a black-and-white photo of the coffee shop from its early days, with your grandmother proudly standing in front.

“I found these at the library,” Joel explained. “I wanted to understand the roots of this place, to see it through the eyes of your grandmother when she first opened it.”

You were touched by his thoughtfulness and attention to detail. Each photo, each document, told a story of a different era of the coffee shop, of community and warmth.

“And this,” Joel continued, pointing to the plans, “is what I've been working on. I was thinking we could expose the original brick on this wall. It'll give the shop a rustic feel while adding a modern flair.”

The plans were detailed and considerate, blending the old with the new. Joel had thought of everything, from preserving the original woodwork to incorporating energy-efficient lighting. It was clear he had put a lot of time and effort into this.

You leaned in to examine the sketches, impressed by Joel's vision. “It's amazing, Joel. I... I don't know what to say,” you managed, your emotions swirling.

Joel looked at you earnestly, “I know how much this place means to you and your family, and to Maplewood. I wanted to honour its past. And I think we can do it in a way that's cost-effective and true to the spirit of True North Brews.”

You took a moment, absorbing the plans, the pictures, the possibilities. “This is more than I ever expected. You've captured the essence of what my grandmother wanted this place to be.”

As you both leaned over the table, examining the renovation plans, your hands brushed against each other. The brief contact sent a jolt of electricity through both of you, lingering just a moment longer than necessary.

Joel cleared his throat, a hint of colour rising to his cheeks. “So, um, the Jingle Bell Movie Night is coming up,” he began, trying to sound casual. “I was thinking of taking Sarah there. Maybe... you'd like to join us? I mean, if you're not too busy with the event.”

Your heart skipped a beat at the invitation. You had been so focused on setting up the drinks station for the event that the idea of actually enjoying the evening hadn't crossed your mind.

“I'd love to,” you replied with a smile. “I do have to help set up, but there's help there to handle things. It'd be nice to actually enjoy the event for a change.”

Joel's smile widened, a look of surprise and happiness mingling in his expression. It was clear that asking you was a step outside his comfort zone.

As the evening drew to a close, Joel carefully rolled up the renovation plans, he glanced at his watch and sighed. “I should get going. Sarah's probably wondering where I am,” he said, a hint of reluctance in his voice.

You nodded, a little reluctant for the evening to end too.

You walked him to the door, the warmth of the coffee shop wrapping around you like a cozy blanket. “Thank you, Joel, for tonight. For everything,” you said, genuinely touched by his efforts, “these plans and your ideas, they're more than I ever could have imagined.”

Joel paused at the door, turning to face you. “You're welcome, it's been fun getting back to doing a project like this, it's been a long time since the bakery reno.”

With a final smile and a promise to see each other at the Jingle Bell Movie Night, Joel stepped out into the crisp Maplewood night, leaving you full of anticipation and a sense of wonder at the unexpected turns life could take.

Your thoughts lingered as you locked the door behind him, but part of you remained guarded, reminding yourself of the reasons you were in Maplewood in the first place. You were here for your mother, for the legacy of True North Brews, not to settle down.

Right?

The week leading up to the Jingle Bell Movie Night was a flurry of activity. Joel's daily visits became a cherished routine, each morning bringing a new discussion or a shared laugh over plans for the coffee shop. His drink was always ready by the time the bell jingled at 7:50 am, a small gesture that didn't go unnoticed by him.

The Jingle Bell Movie Night had transformed the community hall into a winter wonderland. Twinkling lights adorned the walls, and the air was filled with the scents of mulled wine courtesy of Frank and Bill, the sweet treats Marcus had baked and the hot drinks you had arranged from True North Brews.

Slipping off your apron you turned to Ellie who was helping with the concessions, “Now please, I don't want to hear about any theatrics tomorrow,” Ellie opened her mouth to object and you cut her off before she could say any more, “nor do I want to hear that someone spiked Bill's drink with salt instead of sugar.”

Ellie rolled her eyes and you didn't miss the salt packets that slipped from her fingers into the pocket of her apron, “Jeeze, you just take the fun out of everything.”

“I also pay very well, so if you don't want your pay cheque docked, then I suggest you keep things above board.”

Ellie grinned as she gave a mock salute, “Ey, ey captain!”

It was your turn to roll your eyes, “Be good.”

Joel had sent you a message that he was at the back of the hall, so you grabbed two plastic cups of mulled wine and managed to pick up two of the oversized, and very decadent profiteroles Marcus had made especially. They were dusted with powdered sugar, and decorated with tiny edible gingerbread men. The scent of the gingerbread-flavoured cream filled your nose.

Joel had found a cozy spot at the back, a perfect vantage point for both the movie and quiet conversation.

“No Sarah?” you remarked as you dropped into the seat next to him.

Joel laughed, “No, she ditched me as soon as we arrived.”

You handed Joel a plastic cup of wine and one of the profiteroles you'd picked up, “Here, I managed to snag one of these before they all disappeared.”

Joel's eyes lit up at the sight of the dessert taking it gratefully from your hand. He took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the rich flavours.

“Mmm, this is amazing,” he murmured, his voice laced with genuine pleasure.

Conversation between the two of you fell into the easy pattern that had grown between the two of you the past couple of weeks. Discussions moved from the plans for the coffee shop to your life growing up in Maplewood and what had taken you away.

As the movie played on the big screen in front of you, the sound of laughter and conversation filled the hall, but it felt as if it were just the two of you in your own little world.

When the conversation shifted to Joel, he spoke about his life in Maplewood, his contracting business, and the challenges and joys of raising Sarah. You couldn't help but notice the way his eyes sparkled under the dim lights, the way his lips curved into a smile when he shared a particularly funny story about his brother or Sarah.

However, he hesitated when it came to discussing his past in Austin. There was a tiny shadow of pain that crossed his eyes, but before you could question it, it was gone, replaced with one of Joel's trademark warm smiles. He'd mentioned briefly before what had brought him to Maplewood, Sarah's scholarship and he'd briefly mentioned the passing of his wife, but he never elaborated any further than that. And you respected his need for privacy, knowing that some wounds ran deep and were not easily shared.

“So, what do you think of the movie choice?” you asked, looking back to the projector screen playing 'The Santa Clause'

Joel laughed, “When Sarah was younger, this was on repeat from the moment Thanksgiving was over to when we packed the decorations away in January.”

You laughed before you finally took a bite of your profiterole, your taste buds were bombarded with the decadent flavours. The flaky pastry melted in your mouth, while the creamy gingerbread spiced filling added a cozy festive warmth to the whole sensation.

With closed eyes, you savoured another mouthful of the delicious dessert. A small dollop of cream escaped and landed on your chin, but you were too lost in the pleasure to care. “This is amazing,” you moaned in appreciation.

Joel's laughter mingled with the sound of the movie, and you opened your eyes to find him staring at you with an intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. The air between you crackled with a newfound tension, and suddenly, the cozy winter wonderland around you seemed to fade into the background.

The air felt heavy with anticipation as he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low whisper. “You have a little something there,” he murmured.

Joel reached over and taking his thumb swept the fallen cream from your chin and you found yourself holding your breath as he took his thumb to his mouth.

The sight sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but imagine what it would feel like if his lips were on yours instead. The warmth from the mulled wine seemed to travel through your veins.

“Thanks,” you managed to say, still not able to look away from his lips.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you leaned in, unable to resist the magnetic pull between you. Before you could register it his lips were on yours, his hand finding home at the small of your back as you turned into the embrace, the feeling of the warmth of his body so close to yours, his

The soft touch of his lips against yours sent shockwaves through your body. The taste of mulled wine and sweet cream lingered on his lips.

But as quickly as it happened, Joel pulled away, a look of confusion and guilt washing over his face. He stammered an apology, “Sorry, I shouldn't have…” Joel's voice trailed off, his eyes looking lost, confusion and guilt etched his face.

The two of you looked at one another, neither knowing what to say next. You were still reeling from the whiplash of the kiss followed by Joel's abruptness when he suddenly stood, patting his pockets until he found the one that had his car keys in them.

“I need to get going,” he said, looking everywhere but you leaving you confused and unable to figure out what was happening.

“Okay,” was all you managed to squeak out.

“I erm, sorry–” he rubbed at the back of his neck nervously, “I need to get Sarah home, she has a soccer game tomorrow morning.”

Joel hurriedly gathered his things, his eyes avoiding yours as he mumbled a quick goodbye. You watched him leave, the festive atmosphere of the movie night suddenly feeling bittersweet.

The rest of the evening passed in a blur. You stuck around to help with the cleanup, half listening to Ellie in her complaint that for the third year in a row, the town council had rejected her suggestion of playing ‘Die Hard’, but your thoughts were elsewhere, replaying the kiss and Joel's sudden departure.

#december x 500 #the little coffee shop around the corner #maplewood au #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fanfic

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wooahaes · 5 months

Text

tangled lights

pairing: non-idol!jaehyuk x gn!reader

genre: coffee shop au. coworkers au.

word count: 1.4k~

warnings: food mentions. reader isnt a fan of the holiday season.

daisy's notes: ngl sometimes i kinda miss having a christmas tree

Why the hell did the store need a Christmas tree out on the floor? It was just taking up space, and someone (read: you) had to be the unfortunate idiot who decorated it all alone while the rest of your coworkers got to do their actual jobs. You had exams to study for! And that should be your priority, not… untangling this stupid spaghetti-pile of lights.

Okay, fine, so maybe Christmas wasn’t your favorite time of year. Sure, it brought some nice things, like the limited time specialty hot chocolate drinks that you were more than happy to use your employee discount on… and the limited time cookies that you’d always steal the leftovers of when you had the closing shift. But Christmas was just a reminder of too much bullshit. That your family wasn’t in the city, so unless you saved the money to travel, you’d only be calling home this year. Or the fact that you were alone, since Christmas was much more couple-y. The countless number of couples who came into the coffee shop were people you had to greet with a forced smile (they never seemed to notice, though), and it was starting to get tiring because they were always a thousand times more cuddly and sappy than normal.

Some people might call it jealousy. You preferred to think of yourself as more practical. What was so special about the Christmas season that made people awful to deal with? Couples aside, you swore people got much more high-strung with you and other people in service jobs for no damn reason. Sorry, but yelling at you wasn’t going to get their kid the toy that sold out immediately.

Andn ow the fucking lights were even more tangled. The place was empty, and it was late, and you were about to start yelling. Your boss needed this tree up yesterday and the busy hours had kept you from doing the damn job.

“Fuck this!” You threw them down in a rage, getting up and walking away. All you needed was a few minutes and you’d tackle it again. How did these lights even get this tangled? After your shift today, all you wanted to do was make your stupid hot chocolate drink, clean the machines, and go home to watch whatever video essay popped up on YouTube. With another frustrated groan, you slammed a fist down on the countertop, before relaxing. With a sigh, you looked back at your current enemy. “Why did she have to pick me for this…?”

Someone like Asahi would be better at this. You saw the drawings he made and the photos he took—he had an eye for this kind of thing. Or Jaehyuk; he loved this time of year. Sometimes you wondered how he managed to be so positive at work, but you’d seen the moments where he needed to step into the back to collect himself. If anything, seeing Jaehyuk was just this reminder that you were this mess compared to your coworkers. No wonder none of them seemed to like you all that much: you weren’t there to be best friends with any of them, you were there to get paid. Sure, you were friendly enough with them, but you never really let shit slide: if someone treated you wrong, you called them out in the back room and demanded their basic respect.

Maybe that was why people didn’t seem to like you. Other people still made an effort to be friends. And you… Well, your friends had joked once that you were an “acquired taste” as a person—but one they appreciated nonetheless. The “they asked for no pickles” friend who couldn’t stand to see someone else struggle out of the need to be polite when the answer was just “speak up for yourself.” You let out a long sigh. Maybe… Maybe you needed to find a different job where you could start over.

The sound of your name being called made you look up, and you stared at where Jaehyuk of all people was standing outside the store entrance. He waved at you, speaking louder, although it was far too muffled for you to fully understand what he was saying. You made your way over, clicking the door unlocked, and he stepped in, thanking you quickly.

“I forgot my textbook,” he said, dusting snow off of his shoulders. Then he looked at you again, “Why are you still here?”

Maybe you’d die right here and not have to admit that a Christmas tree was getting the better of you.

Of course, Jaehyuk had to lean forward enough to see the tree. “Oh, you’re still working on it?” He locked the door behind him, already shedding his coat. “I can help! It’s already getting late—and you still have to close up properly, right?”

Wait, what.

“I think if we work together, we’ll be done faster,” Jaehyuk continued on without much of a care, making his way over to where you’d thrown down the Christmas lights. “I’ll start untangling these while you get the ornaments from the back.”

At long last, your brain seemed to have caught up, and the first thing you said was “You don’t have to do that.”

Jaehyuk had already pulled over a chair, “It’s late,” he said. “And you have more to do—I don’t mind helping. I can call Asahi, too, if you want—”

“No!” You made your way over. “No, that’s… You don’t have to bother him. This was supposed to be my job for some reason. You can get your book and go home,” you said, reaching for the string lights in his hands that he was already managing to untangle far easier than you did. “Really. It’s okay.”

Jaehyuk looked up at you, frowning a little. “You can ask for help if you need it,” he said. “And… I owe you.”

You furrowed your brow. “Owe me?”

“For Saturday,” he said. “You chewed out that lady after she purposefully spilled her coffee down my apron.”

“Uh. Yeah, because she literally could have burned you,” you crossed your arms. “She’s lucky she left that cup sitting up there for so fucking long otherwise you could have literally sued her, I’m sure.”

“My brain always seems to turn off when people get that angry,” he admitted. “It’s nice to know you have my back.” Jaehyuk paused, looking up from the lights in his hands. “... The ornaments?”

Fuck. Right. You walked away to find the box from the back room, snagging his textbook from where it was sitting on a table. One less thing for him to worry about. He thanked you when you set it down on the table next to him, and you pushed the box aside. No need to start hanging those until the lights were up. You reached for the other end of the tangled lights, and began to work again.

“Like I was saying…, You don’t owe me for that. I would have done it for anyone,” you shrugged. “I’m not gonna let someone get mistreated because some customers genuinely think they’re always right.”

“You still didn’t have to do it,” he said. “I appreciate it. I always like working shifts with you because of it.”

The sentiment nearly made you laugh. He had to be joking, right? “Riiight, sure.”

He looked up, stopping in his work for a moment. “Why did you say it like that?”

“I know what other people think of me,” you said. “You don’t have to pretend you like me. Respecting me is fine.”

“But I do like you.” Jaehyuk only continued to stare at you, his brows drawing together in confusion. “Why wouldn’t I?”

If anyone else had said it, you’d find it hard to believe. But Jaehyuk was different: Jaehyuk didn’t seem like the kind of person who would outright lie—at least not so easily. The quick way he said it, the genuine confusion on his face… Suddenly, you had to wonder why you’d mentally cataloged Jaehyuk as someone so out of reach for someone like you.

“Oh.” You felt your face heat up with embarrassment, and you busied yourself even further with untangling the lights. “Hey, um… Jaehyuk?”

He hadn’t stopped staring at you, still so confused. “Yeah?”

“Do you… Do you want to help me decorate the tree?” You looked up. “And… Maybe grab a hot chocolate later, too? I mean, you don’t have to, but—”

He chuckled softly, that same soft, sweet smile on his face as he nodded. “I’d love to.”

taglist: @twancingyunhao

#wooahaes.dec23 #wooahaes.fic #treasure imagine #treasure x reader #treasure x you #treasure fics #treasure fluff #yoon jaehyuk x reader #yoon jaehyuk x you #jaehyuk x reader #yoon jaehyuk fluff #jaehyuk x you

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tennypress · 9 months

Note

Gun x Goo x reader smut

I’ll write another one !

(No smut sorry, but I might make a nsfw part to it

Street racer AU

(Inspired by fast and furious)

WARNING: love triangle, gender neutral reader

“Ooh, Mami, this a new 'Rari. Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner, then she bent it for me sideways, uh I might have to fuck her on the highway, yeah”

You just stepped out of your white and red 1992 Mitsubishi Galant VR 4 hugging your friend Zoe park after she ask you to drive in her place in a local street race. There you see three other cars. A yellow and black 1970 Dodge Challenger R/T and fuzzy dice hanging in the rear view mirror with a guy with blonde hair and sunglasses chilling outside chatting with others.

A green 1993 Toyota Supra Turbo with an older guy with a shaved head and wearing a tank top chilling outside while listening to music with his friends.

Then you see a car that caught your attention. It was a black 1999 Nissan Skyline GT-R R34 with a custom painted oni design on the side. You can see the owner on the side smoking a cigarette and just waved to you. Your intrigued.

But your car was amazing too. It was gifted to you by your father. It was white and red 1992 Mitsubishi Galant VR 4 with a custom paint with hello kitty in the side.

As you enter the race the other racers were snickering and making fun of your car. Saying how it looks girly and too old. However the owner of the nissan just glanced at your car before turning back to focus on the race.

You held onto your wheel as you see the flag girl raise her bandana? Or cloth and just waved it before stepping aside for you guys to race. Then you hear a speakerphone of someone you knew. Daniel park, signaling and counting down. 3, 2, 1, and go! You all step on the pedal

Your racing and your in 3rd place before you see the bridge pull up. The green car owner stopped before you see a flash of yellow also slow down. Now it’s between your Mitsubishi and the owner of the Nissan to finish this race.

Both of you speeding up you drove off the bridge and managed to land on the other side safely.

You both returned back safely and exited the car.

There you get out and a crowd comes rushing to the both of you. Including Zoe and Daniel. They just come up to you and congratulate you. Before you see the Nissan owner also coming up to shake your hand.

“That was impressive, no one has beaten me in a race before. I’m Gun. Gun park” he just greets you with a prideful smirk.

You just smile back and shaked his car before seeing the other racers come up. The green haired guy, or Taejin just comes out pissed and throws his steering wheel out on the ground while another man with tan skinned with glasses comes up to comfort Jin. While Zoe just holds onto you and Daniel looks at Gun with caution. You noticed that the two of them had tension.

“GOD DAMMIT” you see the Blonde glasses man come up with his car totaled and goes up to Gun and grabs his collar.

They were just arguing until you came up to the both of them. “Maybe I can fix your car? I own a auto shop near the city.” Goo just comes up and holds your hand into his and smiles while tears come out of his eyes and agreed. You all bid farewells and drove home. The next day you open your shop and see them both outside with their cars. You welcome them both in offering them drinks while you fix their cars.

Goo just took a coffee while Gun took a beer and you took in Goos car to fix.

Gun couldn’t stop staring at your ass. How it fitted the suit that was covered in dirt and oil. Or how your tank top perfectly outflanked your tits. And how you had that cute hat on your head.

Goo just stared at you with admiration while you fixed his car.

It took a while but you managed to repair the man’s car and took them to the register to tell them the price.

“Good thing most of the car was alright. But for the Windshield crack repair, window replacement, windshield replacement, bumper repair and replacement, scratch repair, frame damage repair, and engine replacement it’ll cost you around 3.4K. How does that sound?” You said ringing up the prices

Goo just nudges to Gun and he groans taking out his card and swiping it. You give the receipt and take out the vehicle out of your shop.

You wave goodbye as you see them leave. Closing up the shop you see a letter left on the counter. Curiosily you went to go pick it up and read it. You see tears swell up with happiness as you see the same love letter you wrote to a good friend of yours after he had left to Japan.

#lookism x reader #x reader #angst #gun park #goo kim

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paz-djarin · 10 months

Text

Coffee and Books (Part 1)

Cafe/Modern AU. A bartsia falls for a book store owner.

Rating: General Audience

Authors Note: Sorry for misspelling.

Part 1 | Part 2

Rain pours down on the city, people rushing to their destinations.

A door opens to a coffee shop. The small bell rang, Din looks to see who walked in. A tall young looking man had walked in. He has short brown hair and ice blue eyes. The tall young man wore a mask that covers the lower half of his face. He wore a black turtleneck and black jeans.

He walked over to the corner.

“Hello.” Din said, “What you like to order?”

“Hello. I would like an iced, Ristretto, 10 shot, venti, with breve, 5 pump vanilla, 7 pump caramel, 4 Splenda, poured, not shaken. Oh…I and a plain black tea.” The man said.

Din said, “Alright. Alright. What is a good name for your order?”

“Paz.” He simply said as he pays for the drinks.

Din nods and gets to work on the drinks with the help of his friend, Bo-Katan. Paz steps aside, sitting at the booth and waits for his order. He pulls out his phone and starts texting someone. Din side eyes Paz, this man is perfect and mysterious. His ice blue eyes, you can easily get lost in them… Din sighs softly.

“Watch’a thinkin’ about Din.” Bo said startling him.

“N-nothing.” Din said still making the coffee and tea, “Um…”

“You staring at the customer…Paz.” Bo gently nudges him.

Din’s face went red, “No!’ He whispers shouts, “W-why would I do that!?”

“Because he’s kinda handsome.” Bo tells him.

Kinda!? More like very! “S-shut up.” Din huffs and finishes making the coffee. “Order for Paz.”

Paz gets up where he is and takes the coffee and tea “Thank you. Have a nice day.”

“You too sir.” Din said, feeling nervous.

Paz left the shop. Din felt his heart fluttering covering his face with his hands. God…I feel like I’m floating on air…

“I felt the same way about me wife Din. Remember that.” Bo said to him.

“Right…” Din trails off, great I have a crush on a guy I barely met…

Paz walked quickly to get out of the rain, he is luck he brought he umbrella. He runs into his book store.

“Sorry I’m late. I over slept again.” Paz said loudly.

“About time you arrive.” Axe said.

“I brought your abomination of a drink to you.” Paz said handing him his coffee and he took a sip of his tea.

“Nah, bruh. Your drink is an abomination, you’re only drinking a plain black tea.” Axe points out.

“It’s good. I like how it has practically no flavor.” Paz said heading over to the counter.

“You see! That is what I’m saying!” Axe said.

“If you don’t want me to bounce off the walls I’ll stick to tea.” Paz said.

Axe was about to say something, but he just shut his mouth. Looking away angry. Paz couldn’t help but to chuckle at his friend’s reaction.

The bookstore was officially opened and people began to walk in. Paz and Axe help them. Paz would help the customer get a book from a high shelf, get the book check and bought for them. Axe help them find a certain book or genre.

Din sighs thinking about Paz. He just had to find out more about him. Did have a girlfriend or a boyfriend? Where did he work? More questions filled Din’s head as the day went on. He stay focused, making drinks.

“Din don’t worry we will find your ‘boyfriend’ soon.” Bo said, “Bit not in a creepy way. Just ask him questions the next time he comes in.”

Din sighs “It’s not that easy…”

“How?” She questions him.

“I feel like when I look into his eyes. I would get lost and he is imitating yet not. His gaze is powerful-“ Din keeps talking until Bo interrupts him.

“Easy there. We will get find a way so you can talk to him…without fainting.” Bo said.

Din rolls his eyes blushing a bit, “Yeah, yeah, yeah…”

The day goes by fast. Paz and Axe close up the bookstore for tonight and parted ways. Axe heads home, while Paz heads to the cemetery. Din and Bo also close up the coffee shop for tonight. The two friends parted ways for tonight. Bo heads back home to her wife. Din heads home also, wanting to find more about Paz.

“Finally home.” Din said as he enters his apartment.

Din grads his computer and starts looking up Paz. He finds out Paz is rich. Which is a surprise for Din. He finds out Paz’s father owns his own company, practically an empire. Then he reads something heartbreaking, it was about Paz’s mother. She died to an illness.

Reading more about the Vizsla family.

He finds out Paz owns a book store. It’s just a few miles away from his coffee shop. Closing the computer. He decided he would see Paz tomorrow. Just hoped he wouldn’t be creeped out because he looked him up on the web…

#star wars #the mandalorian #paz vizsla #din djarin #paz x din #pazdin #fanfic #cafe au #modern au #mr pazzie writing

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reikuto · 2 years

Text

⋆ฺ｡*:･CONTENT! college!au; aged!21 bokuto x gender neutral reader, established relationship. SUMMARY! reader can’t sleep and bokuto comes over to keep them company. WARNINGS! mild cursing :: A/N! sigh…(sorry for grammar issues, i’ll sweep thru asap)･: *｡ฺ⋆

TURNING ON YOUR SIDE, YOU LET YOURSELF stare into the darkness of your room, nothing but the sound of your own breathing keeping you company as pitch black stared right back at you. turning to lay on your back instead, your hands rested on your stomach, fiddling with your shirt. with a sigh, you picked up your phone, only growing more frustrated when the screen read ‘2:42am’.

you had gotten in bed at eleven, mildly hopeful that sleep would take you and you’d snooze peacefully through the night. however, three hours had passed of relentless tossing and turning and you were still nowhere near dozing off. kicking your blankets off, you sat up and huffed, staring at your wall.

it’s been weeks. no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t get to sleep at a reasonable hour. after giving up on trying to sleep, you’d stay up on your phone, watching tv, or reading a book until it was 8:30am and you finally felt your eyes growing heavy. however, at that point, you’ve gotta get ready for your classes, which you’d have to push through with several cups of coffee and frequent cold splashes of water to the face.

finally when you got home in the afternoon, you could only really afford to sleep for up to three hours before your other responsibilities came knocking. to be completely honest, you had no idea know how you were still functioning but you tried not to think about it too much. as terrible as the routine was, it was still getting the job done.

finally standing up, you slowly shuffled over to the kitchen in the dark, feeling the walls to avoid injuring yourself just to avoid turning on a light. opening the fridge, you squinted at your options: feta cheese, mustard, canned whipped cream, annnddd expired yogurt. great, you had forgotten to go grocery shopping.

slamming the fridge door, you spin around to go to the living room but quickly stop in your tracks. turning back around and opening the fridge door, you hastily grabbed the whipped cream and then made way for your living room.

falling onto your couch, you shook the can as you turned the tv on. just as you were about to squirt some whipped cream into your mouth, you tensed at the sound of a knock. slowly turning your head to look at your front door, you remained still in case your sleep deprivation had upgraded its consequences to auditory delusions.

after a couple more seconds, there was another knock. nope, not imagining it. standing up, you quietly hopped over to the front door, standing on your toes to peek through the peephole. smiling, you unlocked the door and swung it open to reveal none other than bokuto koutarou.

“kou!” you quietly exclaimed, wary of your neighbors.

“baby!” he grinned, matching your volume. you stepped aside, watching him come in and set a plastic bag with a tub of ice cream on the table. ugh, i love him. he turned around to face you, arms stretched out as he walked over to pull you into an embrace.

“what are you doing here?” you asked, hugging him back and scrunching your nose as he peppered the side of your face with kisses.

he shrugged a shoulder, squeezing you a little tighter. “i missed you, baby.”

bokuto was more than aware of your sleeping patterns, and while he wasn’t on board with it, he understood that you were going through a rough patch. nowadays, your schedules never quite lined up, making spending any sort of time together few and far between. if seeing you meant losing a couple hours of shut-eye, so be it.

“i know but it’s late.” you sighed, nestling your face in his neck. the last thing you wanted was to mess up koutarou’s schedule as well. “don’t you have class tomorrow?”

“i do not,” bokuto smiled as he pulled away, finally pressing a soft kiss on your lips. “and practice doesn’t start until four so i can to sleep in with my favorite girl.”

“kou, you really don’t have to.”

“i know, i want to.” bokuto assured. “besides, we can finally watch that one movie you’ve been telling me about.”

you gasped, “akaashi said they just added it on netflix!”

“exactly.” bokuto smiled, “go put it on, i’ll be there in a sec.”

you rushed over to the couch, plopping yourself down and snatching up the remote. you bit your lip subconsciously as you searched for the movie, hoping that akaashi wasn’t mistaken. smiling when you found it, you turn to bokuto as he sat down beside you with a bowl of ice cream and two spoons. taking one of the spoon, you easily nuzzled into his side, reveling in his warmth as the movie eased into a start. digging your spoon into the bowl of ice cream, you happily ate while tucked next to bokuto, who pressed a kiss to your temple.

barely ten minutes had passed and the bowl was empty and cast aside, you and bokuto finding comfort in a different position; him laying down with you on top of him, one of his arms wrapped around you as your head rested on his chest. as good as the movie was, you struggled to keep your eyes open, the occasional chuckle from bokuto being the only thing keeping you awake. you didn’t even notice when bokuto turned the tv off, your eyes shut and breathing steady. you felt yourself drift into a deep sleep, the faint feeling of a kiss being pressed to your forehead in the distance.

#hq!!#hq!! x reader #haikyu!!#bokuto hcs #bokuto fluff #bokuto koutarou #bokuto koutaro x reader #[🍹]#[🍹] haikyu!#[🍹] bokuto bae!

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pentechnics · 2 years

Text

Connection

Chapter 6 of Latch

Summary: As you and Din grow closer, he considers how easily you string together multiple avenues of his life that he didn't realize could coexist. Avenues he didn't think he'd want coexisting until now.

Pairing: Firefighter!Din Djarin x f!reader

Series Content: modern AU, firefighter!Din, coffee shop AU, fluff, slowish burn, sexual tension, mentions of fire/burning buildings, mentions of burn injuries/scars, eventual sexual content (will tag for specific chapters), falling in love, Din is a sexy firefighter, and he’s BI, you’re a cute barista/baker, sweet and spicy, eventual mentions of abandoned children (will tag for specific chapters), some bits will be from Din’s POV but most is from reader’s, ALSO Fennec and Omera are a thing now I'm love them

Notes:

HIII EVERYONE

Yes, I am alive, and yes I can now use my laptop without getting sick!! So I spent all day on this chapter! And I can't tell you how ECSTATIC I am being able to share it with you now, even though it took so much longer than I would've liked. I really am sorry about that, but I really do appreciate everyone's love, patience, and concern! Y'all are the best ever! So without further ado, here is the long-anticipated return of Latch!

PLEASE, leave me your thoughts, I adore hearing from you all so much! It truly helps me do this faster and with lots more love and motivation! And please reblog this for me even if you enjoyed it but don't want to comment; it's even trickier to navigate tumblr now with the sudden surge of users that just don't reblog things and the increased ineffectiveness of tags, and I'd really love for my work to reach even more lovely people! Thank you so much!

And as always, thank you all so much for your continued love and support! I hope you enjoy this one! May The Fourth Be With You! ❤️

I'll be doing a taglist reblog after initial posting; please let me know if you'd like to be added!

~~~~

Din wasn’t sure he walked into the right building at first.

Cal’s was crowded. More crowded than he’d ever seen it. And everyone was silent, except for one woman.

A few words about someone not working hard enough entered Din’s ears before all sounds ceased and his eyes caught up: you were standing behind the counter, this woman standing in front of you, shouting into your face. Your expression appeared cool and collected even after she stopped her rant, aside from the steep rise and fall of your shoulders and the burning fury in your eyes.

Anger boiled in Din’s blood. No one should be spoken to that way, especially someone as undeserving of it as you. But just as he took a step towards the counter to give that woman a piece of his mind, your voice halted him.

“You done?”

Even Din had to gulp down a lungful of air, as if the venom in your tone had poisoned him as well. His muscles seized, the weight of paralysis dangling from them as he listened to you shut that woman down.

His mind began to race. His palms grew clammy. As much as he hated the situation at hand, he couldn’t deny the heat rushing to his face. You were much more patient than he’d be – this woman would be running for the hills by now if he were in your shoes. Seeing you call out her awful behavior in this way was stunning. And attractive.

But he didn’t miss the way your hands were shaking. Omera turned you towards her with her hands on your shoulders as you let yourself deflate. The glimmer of fear and hurt Din saw in your eyes cut right through his heart, his muscles wanting to lurch him forward towards you. He wanted nothing more than to ease you and teach that lady a lesson.

His eyes didn’t leave you when he stuck out his foot, making the woman stumble and almost hit her face against the door on her way out. When she turned to him, mouth open and ready to turn her vengeance onto him, he was already glaring down at her.

“Be grateful that’s all you’re getting.”

She gawked at him for a moment, the silence as heavy as ever before she glanced around and left in a haste.

More baristas emerged from the back as Omera guided you in that direction. Her eyes met Din’s when she turned back around, and she waved him towards the counter.

“Din, right?” she started, “We met last week.”

Din gave her a nod as he recalled Fennec bringing her to the station. Why it took her so long to introduce the crew to her girlfriend — especially given her own need to butt into everyone else’s social lives — was beyond him.

“Good to see you, Omera.”

“Is everything alright? Did Fennec send you?”

“No,” he said with a wave of his hand. “I’m not working today. I’m uh-”

He cut himself off and took a breath, thinking through which words to use to describe his connection to you.

“I’m actually… a friend of hers.”

He pointed towards the back. Omera glanced behind her before clarifying with your name. Din nodded.

“Oh,” she said with a small grin, just before realization hit her. “Oh.”

Din gave one silent nod.

“Well,” Omera started, “I’m guessing Kuiil is going to let her go home early, so if you want you can wait for her. I want to give her some space, otherwise I’d go let her know you’re here.”

“Of course,” Din said, “I wouldn’t want to overwhelm her, either.”

“Is there anything I can get you in the meantime?”

Din glanced up at the menu before an idea came to his mind and he put in an order, taking out his wallet and handing Omera a bill. “The rest is for the tip jar.”

Omera gave him a smile before walking away to fulfill the order. On any other day, Din would’ve felt bad for skipping over the entire line. But if this meant he could help you sooner, then so be it.

His peripherals picked up movement outside of the window; he glanced out to find that same awful woman standing there, dangling her drink next to a trash can and waving her arm in what looked like an attempt at getting Omera’s attention. With a small groan Din leaned against the counter to obscure her view, staring at her with every ounce of anger he was holding. She tried to peer past him, but despite the way she tried to maintain her position, her movements began to jitter under Din’s glare. He smirked to himself and tilted his head to the side, intensifying his stare until she gave up and stormed off down the street.

When Omera handed him his order, thankfully oblivious to the scene, he took a seat at a small table near the door.

All that was left to do was wait.

~~~~

You sat still in the chair in Kuiil’s little office, his warm hand on your shoulder. You took one deep breath after another as the shouts of the angry customer echoed in your head.

You were surprised at how you held it together in the moment. Being yelled at typically had you closing in on yourself, violent waves of terror sending you into a state of shock. Your hands were still shaking – the only visual evidence of that internal peril.

“Take your time, dear. Then head home for the day.”

You looked up at Kuiil, ready to reject the offer, but he put up his other hand before you could speak.

“It would be cruel to keep you here like this. Don’t do that to yourself. Head home. I’ll clock you out at the end of your shift.”

“Kuiil, that crowd is massive-”

“I have spoken.”

He gave your shoulder a pat before leaving you alone in the office. You sighed; no use arguing when he pulled out that line. You took a few more deep breaths, desperately trying to push that woman’s angry face out of your mind.

You glanced down at your arm. Your sleeve was still rolled up to your elbow, exposing the string of lines that contrasted with your skin and weaved up to your wrist. Today was the first time anyone had made a comment about your scars to your face since you removed your bandages. Back then it wasn’t as permanent – you could play those off more easily, they didn’t raise too many questions. And it was easier to ignore the quiet speculations customers would whisper to each other.

But not anymore. No pretending these scars were something else. No dodging looks or questions from strangers to whom you owed no explanation, but who demanded one all the same. And they only grew bolder by the day.

You squeezed your eyes shut and coiled into yourself until your head rested just above your knees, arms wrapped around your torso. Would it always be like this? Were you doomed to wear long sleeves for the rest of your life to avoid it? Your mind continued to race, thoughts scrambling together in a static fog of noise.

You took deep breath after deep breath. You only needed to be collected enough to walk out of here – the rest could be dealt with later. You sucked in one more breath as you made your way out of Kuiil’s office and collected your things.

You imagined the café’s layout in your mind, rehearsing the quickest way to make your exit with the hope of not interacting with any customers. With one last nod to yourself you opened the employee door and stepped into the café area, keeping your head down and walking as fast as you could through the main area. You felt several gazes on you: calculating, heavy, and dark, which only made your feet move faster.

You zoomed past the counter and looked up towards the door, only for your eyes to catch a familiar sight.

Those beautiful, warm brown eyes brightened as they landed on you, and Din’s little grin had your muscles relaxing despite your increased heart rate.

“Hey,” you breathed, “I-I didn’t realize you were here.”

“Let’s get you out of here first,” he said, rising from his seat and jerking his head towards the door. “We can talk outside.”

The two of you exited through the glass doors and walked to the corner, out of sight of the other patrons. The cool air gave your skin a satisfying bite that began to put out the flames of your anxiety. You shivered against it and watched your breath fog up in front of you.

“These are for you.”

Din held out a drink and pastry bag to you. With a furrowed brow, you met his eyes again.

“You… ordered these for me?”

His adam's apple bobbed with a gulp as he nodded, eyes darting down while his cheeks grew a slight shade of pink. You smiled and took both items from him. You held up the drink to read the label: white hot chocolate. Your brow shot up while your heart soared with a surge of warmth.

“You remembered my favorite drink?” you asked in disbelief.

Din shrugged. You peeked into the pastry bag and found a warm, fluffy chocolate chip muffin inside.

“And my favorite muffin?”

“I just wanted to help,” Din said with a small shake of his head.

Your smile grew. Little things like getting one’s favorite drink for them could make or break a day, as you saw all the time at work. And having Din go out of his way to try and turn your mood around like this had you overwhelmed with gratitude.

“Din, this is so sweet,” you said, “It means a lot to me, thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” he said with a grin.

You took a breath and let yourself fall into the depths of his eyes again. The cold air around you seemed insignificant when the heat from his gaze wrapped around you, encasing you like a soft hug.

“Um-” Din cleared his throat and took a brief glance towards the crosswalk. “Would you… maybe want to take a walk?”

You didn’t think your smile could grow. You nodded and gestured across the intersection. “There’s a park over there, maybe we could go there and split this muffin?”

Din’s brow furrowed. He shook his head and pointed at the pastry bag.

“Ah, but that’s for-”

“Please, I insist.”

You raised your chin up and tilted your head to accentuate your words. Din stayed still, looking between your eyes before sighing with a nod. You grinned and led the way to the crosswalk.

~~~~

You and Din found a bench to settle down on. Few others were walking about the various paths in the park while the sun briefly poked out behind the clouds, casting golden rays onto the grass. Din held your drink for you while you took out the muffin and ripped it in half, attempting to make the pieces as even as possible before holding them out beside you.

“Your choice,” you said.

Din chuckled before grabbing one and handing your drink back to you. The two of you sat and watched the world go by, cars speeding off on the nearby street and children running around in their oversized coats. A few birds flew by every now and then; two mourning doves settled down on a branch in a nearby tree, cooing and huddling together. You smiled at the sight.

“Did your boss make these today?”

Din’s question had you whipping back around to face him. You nodded while he finished off his half of the muffin.

“He did! Told you there was a difference.”

“I still think yours are better,” he said with a shrug. You giggled and took a sip of your drink, enjoying the feeling of warmth that the liquid sent through your system.

“So, did you have anything else planned for today?” you asked.

“Not really,” Din said, “I wasn't sure how long I’d be in the shop with you, so I didn’t have much else lined up.”

Your heart swelled. He was putting aside time for you. You grinned behind the lid of your cup, trying to keep the heat in your face from making you sweat. You took a sip to give yourself time to think of how to respond.

Across the way, a large group of teens chatted and laughed as they made their way out of the park. You smiled; in a way it reminded you of your teenage years.

“Wonder what the hype is,” Din said.

“Might be that new nickel arcade that opened up around there,” you said with a shrug, recalling a sign that someone had hung up on the bulletin board in Cal’s. Din turned his attention back to you.

“Nickel arcade?”

You looked over to see his eyes shining in delight, like a child in a candy store. His lips were pulled up just a bit at the corners, like he was trying to not let his smile get bigger. You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you.

“Yeah, it’s supposed to have a lot of older games and stuff with the usual newer things.”

Din’s gaze flew back towards where the teenagers had gone, the group now completely out of sight. He cleared his throat and shifted his body to face yours.

“Um… Would you-”

He cut himself off and looked at you, his eyes bearing deep into yours. You forgot to breathe for a moment while waiting for him to continue. With a gulp and a breath, he did.

“Would you want to go check it out?”

Your lips parted, your eyes darting between him and the direction of the arcade.

“Wha- right now?”

He nodded.

“If you want to, of course.”

You smiled. When was the last time you’d done something on the spur of a moment? You found yourself nodding and standing up, finishing off your drink before throwing it out and falling into step next to Din.

The two of you walked out of the park and across another intersection to reach the arcade. Din paid for the nickels before you could even look down at your pocket, and before you knew it the two of you were thrown into the dark, small space of bliss for the child at heart. Lights flashed all around from a myriad of games, reflecting off the carpet’s blacklight zig-zags. You looked up at Din with a shrug.

“Where should we start?”

He grinned and held out his arm to you. When you looped yours with it, he straightened up and began to lead you into the fray.

“I’ve got some ideas.”

~~~~

It quickly became evident that Din knew his way around an arcade.

After topping the scoreboard on Galaga and Asteroids, following your poor attempts at randomly hitting buttons to make things happen, he led you over to a multi-player Pac-Man machine.

“Okay, this one I can do,” you said with a laugh.

“You can do them all,” he said, “It’s fun to watch you.”

“Yeah?” you gave a skeptical tilt of your head. “Fun to watch me get obliterated?”

He chuckled as he inserted nickels into the machine. It sprung to life and the two of you began twisting your respective yellow orbs around the maze with the joysticks.

“You’re pretty skilled at these games,” you said, “do you go to arcades often?”

“I did,” Din said, his voice sounding distant. “My parents used to take me a lot when I was young.”

You couldn’t help noticing the twinge of sadness in those words. You glanced up to find that a subtle shadow had cast itself over his expression. It seemed as though his consciousness was teetering between this moment with you and being somewhere else. You bit your lip and returned your gaze to the game, wondering how to bring him back to you.

“That explains Galaga,” you said with a little laugh, “you were shooting down those ships like they were nothing! You topped the whole scoreboard within minutes!”

He hummed. You looked up again to find that little grin on his face once more, and wondered how you could try making it bigger.

“Too bad I’m about to show you who’s boss at eating little dots!”

You leaned forward and pushed your joystick with force, willing your Pac-Man to move faster across the maze. Din’s was moving along at an even pace, but a couple of the ghosts were slowly closing in on him. You purposely avoided the bigger bubble that would’ve made them edible.

“Oh come on,” he said as the orange ghost took away one of his lives. “You were right there!”

“Does this look like a team effort to you?” you teased, “I’m on Clyde’s side!”

He laughed. You looked back at him to find the light returning to his expression, that same excitement he’d been holding onto since you both walked in making a comeback. You let out a small breath of relief and returned to the task of beating his score.

Out of the three rounds the machine let you play, your score was overall higher than Din’s by a small fraction. It was enough to have you celebrating while he laughed and conceded.

The two of you went on to play a few more ticket-based games: shooting basketballs, knocking down pins, some classic skee ball, and more. Every now and then you attempted to thwart him by grabbing at a projectile or blocking his way, to which he asked if you were trying to jeopardize the potential prizes you could buy with your tickets. “We might be able to get one of the bigger plushes if I make this shot,” he said with a laugh, holding a foam dart in his hand. “But I won’t if you mess me up.”

You glanced over at the prize counter with raised brows. Did you want that giant stuffed duck, which cost ten thousand tickets, or did you want to pester your companion? You stroked your chin in thought and turned back to him. “But I enjoy messing you up,” you concluded.

He gave you a look and threw the dart without taking his eyes off you. The buzzer sounded in your ears, along with an automated voice exclaiming, ‘Winner!’ Your jaw dropped as you looked over to see that Din had in fact hit the bullseye. Without even looking.

“Guess it doesn’t actually matter,” Din said with a chuckle.

You turned your wide-eyed expression back to his smug one. He bent down to retrieve the string of tickets spilling from the machine. You followed his every move, watching his hands gather the tickets into neat strips before he stood straight once more.

“Watch out,” he breathed as he reached out and gripped your chin between his fingers, bringing it up to close your mouth. All the blood drained from your body, your muscles turning to stone as his eyes bore into yours. He leaned into your space with a smirk, his visage taking up your entire line of sight.

“Wouldn’t want you to swallow a bug.”

With a final tap of his thumb against your skin, he dropped his hand and walked away towards the next game. You were frozen in place, every inch of your body tingling as if you’d been zapped by lightning.

What was that? And more importantly, how could you get him to do it again?

~~~~

Despite all of Din’s boasting, the most you could afford with your ticket stash was a small keychain.

Regardless, you were more than elated to walk out of there with a little stuffed starfish on a plastic bag clip, even though you’d tried to convince Din to pick one out for Grogu instead. He had won most of the tickets, after all.

“Grogu has so many toys,” he’d said, “I want you to have this.”

You couldn’t help the warm, pleasant tingle flying through your bloodstream just from recalling those words.

The two of you were walking back towards Cal’s, near which Din had parked his car. The overcast sky was more saturated, the day passing by without you both while you were inside the arcade.

“Do you want a ride home?” Din asked, nodding towards the sky. “It looks like it’s going to rain any second.”

“I’ll be fine,” you said with a smile. “It probably only looks like that because it’s getting late.”

As if the universe was trying to taunt you, a droplet landed on your head and sent a cold shiver down your spine. You stopped and glanced up to see more and more drops cascading down onto the concrete before you, the sound increasing in a slow crescendo. You pulled your hood over your head.

“... You were saying?” came Din’s teasing voice.

You laughed and buffed him on the arm, the two of you breaking into a light trot down the dampening sidewalk.

When you reached Din’s car, the rain had grown into a downpour. Din didn’t even ask you again if you wanted a ride; he simply unlocked his car and opened the passenger door for you. The gesture was jarring – when had anyone ever opened a car door for you?

With no other option, you got in and he shut the door behind you. The muffled pitter-patter of the rain against the windows ricocheted in your ears, melding with the sound of Din climbing into the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

“I’m sorry about this,” you said as he cranked up the heat.

“Don’t be. I’m… happy to do it. Wouldn’t want you to catch a cold.”

His cheeks were pink again. You wondered if it was from the cold, or from something else. It suited him either way; it acted like a soft caress against his defined expression, smoothing it out like a settled ripple on the surface of a pond.

“My car’s a bit old,” he said, “it’ll need a minute to warm up.”

“That’s no problem,�� you said with a grin.

After you gave him directions and he put the car in motion, it dawned on you how close he was.

His Corolla left little room between your seat and his. And his stature easily ate up most of that area, his arm draping over the center console. His body heat danced through the air onto your freezing face – soothing, like stepping into a steamy sauna. Your shoulders relaxed while your panicking heart ran as fast as it could, its beat pulsing under your tongue.

The ride to your complex was not long; you discovered that you were on Din’s way home. Just how much farther away was he from you, you wondered.

He parked on the street near the front door and killed the engine. He cleared his throat and turned to face you.

“This a good place to stop?”

“Yes, this is perfect,” you glanced at the door before giving him a smile. “Thank you so much for the ride. I definitely would’ve gotten drenched in this rain.”

He gave you that small grin.

“You’re welcome.”

Your traitorous eyes looked him over: water droplets caressing his temples from where they were still running off his hair, neck slightly strained from his turned position, chest bobbing up and down with his rhythmic breathing. Big, veiny hands were settled on the wheel and gear shift. Your gaze landed on his slightly parted lips on the way back up: pink, creased, the bottom one more plump. The sight of them had yours tingling.

You wanted to reach out and touch them. They looked so perfect, so lonely. Just as your hand began to lift on its own, you clenched it into a fist and forced your eyes back up to his. They were staring at you with a thunderous intensity. Your instincts wanted to pull back from the abrasive boom, but the thrill of its rumble had you wanting more. The lightning that followed within you had your blood running cold.

Din’s brows were knitted together, like he was dissecting you and examining every little section with careful, thorough consideration. You fell apart underneath the weight of it all, letting him take a long look for whatever he was trying to find.

The soft tapping of the rain outside punctuated the heated car, like a thousand tiny fireworks that lit up the air around you.

“Listen,” Din whispered, his voice dry and cracked. “Would you…”

He paused and leaned the slightest bit closer to you. Only then had you noticed that you were leaning as well, your arm now resting beside his on the center console.

“Yes?” you asked, your gaze fluttering between his eyes and his lips.

He let out a sigh through his nose, the small puff dusting onto your face and sending a shiver through your bones.

“Would you want to… go out sometime?”

Your eyes flew up to meet his. Replacing the intensity that was just there was a softer, lighter hue, outlined with nerves and apprehension.

“Like… on a date?”

It sounded stupid leaving your mouth. But your brain needed the confirmation. And when he nodded your heart began to soar, a whole swarm of butterflies erupting from it and taking you over.

“I’d love to,” you said, unable to hold down your grin.

His smile grew as well, exposing his teeth while a small huff of air escaped his lips. The two of you sat in a comfortable quiet after that, the rain being your vocal companion until you broke the silence.

“I should let you get home,” you tore your eyes from him and undid your seat belt, grabbing your bag from your feet and placing your hand on the door.

“Thank you again, Din. I’ll- I’ll let you know when I’m free so we can plan something!”

You cursed the way your voice cracked. And your anxious mind’s silly phrasing. What is this, Sunday brunch?

“That sounds good,” he said, looking down at his lap. “I’ll, uh, look at my schedule, too.”

“Make sure you dry off, first,” you said, pointing at his head. “You didn’t have a hood on, your hair’s still wet!”

Din chuckled and ran a hand through his soaked locks. Some of them stayed in place, giving his hair a slicked look, while a few waves sprung right back up. The motion and the new sight before your eyes ignited something within you – something warm and electric. You gulped down a breath of air and tried to suppress it.

“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

You nodded and made your way out of the car, saying one final “see you soon” before closing it and making your way inside the apartment complex.

When you turned around, Din’s car was still parked. You waved to him, and saw the tiny, fuzzy glimmer of his hand waving back before he started up his car and drove off.

You resisted the urge to slide down the chrome walls of the elevator while you rode up. The events of the day flashed through in your mind, your time with Din luckily overpowering that unfortunate incident at work.

Your hands were shaking. Hell, your whole body was shaking. But this time, it wasn’t heavy or dreadful – it was sharp, exciting, and you wanted more. You couldn’t keep your smile from splitting your face in half and making your cheeks ache. You bounced in place as the image of those eyes, gazing at you so softly while he asked you to go out, resurfaced in your mind.

Did all that really just happen?

~~~~

Din settled down on the sofa beside Luke and Grogu after putting the last of the dinner dishes away. He’d gotten home much later than expected, and insisted on repaying Luke with a meal in addition to his check. Grogu crawled off Luke’s lap and into Din’s, who picked him up and nestled him onto his thigh.

“So you two must’ve had a good time, then.”

Din held his breath for a moment as he contemplated how to respond. He wasn’t sure how to talk about you; the mere thought of you had his heart palpitating, and he wasn’t sure how to describe the way you were occupying so much space in his mind. He’d only managed to give a few minor details over dinner, his tongue tangling each time he tried to expand. He nodded and returned his attention to Grogu, hoping that Luke wouldn’t press the issue.

No such luck.

“Tell me about her,” Luke said, shifting his body to face Din. “What’s she like?”

Din let out a slow breath through his nose, letting his mind replay its catalog of memories. Talking with you during various visits to Cal's, seeing you walk to work from the station, playing in the arcade and running down the rainy sidewalk that afternoon, each little instance within and in between punctuated with that glowing smile and warm joy, reminiscent of the hot cocoa that you loved to drink so much.

“She’s… kind. And warm.”

Luke smiled.

“Seems like you really like her.”

Din shot him a look. He wasn’t wrong, but having it said aloud like that had his insides churning with nerves.

He jumped when his phone buzzed.

Holding onto Grogu with one hand, Din reached the other into his pocket and found a new message. From you. It was as if you could sense he was thinking about you. Din’s face began to flood with heat while he navigated to the message.

‘Just got an update from Karga: the construction folks will be done with the major parts soon, so we’re putting together a schedule for all the volunteers to sign up on. Could you share it with your team?’

Din could hear your voice in his head while he read it. Despite the message being less casual, it still gave an air of softness and tranquility that had Din’s shoulders relaxing.

“Is it her?”

Din snapped his head toward Luke, who was trying to conceal a grin. Din gave an eye roll and started typing out a reply.

“Just some news about the bookstore.”

Grogu babbled in Din’s lap, reaching his little arms up towards the phone. Din gave his stomach a pat and pulled the phone higher.

“Not a toy, buddy.”

Grogu turned around until he was able to cling to Din’s shirt, grasping at handfuls in an attempt to lift himself up higher. Din typed out the last of his reply and shoved the phone in his back pocket, much to Grogu’s dismay.

“Maybe next time,” Luke said with a laugh.

It didn’t take long for Din’s phone to buzz once more, sending a wave of tingles through his system from the epicenter of his pocket. He whipped it out to see what you’d written, letting himself get swept up in his own mental reading once more.

But while he was distracted, Grogu took hold of the phone and yanked it from Din’s hand. Din looked down at his little menace as he began to run his fingers all over random areas of the screen.

“Come on, kid,” Din said, trying to retrieve it between Grogu’s ever-active limbs. Luke chuckled beside him.

When the screen went black, Din felt a sense of relief, until your name appeared at the top, the telling sound of a dial tone humming from the device. The panic struck him like lightning, his attempts to retrieve the phone growing more jittery. Luke cupped his mouth under his hands, his shoulders shaking with his fit of laughter.

“Grogu, no!”

It was too late. Your voice began to emanate in place of the dial, a bit confused but elated. Even in his state of panic, it made Din’s heart melt.

Upon hearing a new sound, Grogu’s babbling grew. He held the phone close to his face, speaking his language into it while the light illuminated his cheeks. Din made out a gasp from the other side of the line.

“Is this Grogu? Hello there, little guy!”

Grogu squealed at the sound of his name and bounced up and down on his perch, cooing and talking into the phone with increased ferver. Din sighed and ran a hand down his face, unable to keep a smile from growing. He never could’ve imagined this: sitting here, listening to you hold a conversation with his infant over the phone, sounding like you were having the time of your life. It made his heart soar.

You responded with eagerness to Grogu’s random babbles, as if he were telling a fascinating tale. It had Grogu waving his arms around, creating the perfect opportunity for Din to snatch the phone out of his grip.

“Hey,” he breathed, “I’m so sorry, he got a hold of my phone and started pressing everything-”

“No, don’t be! I enjoyed our little chat.”

Din chuckled.

“Just because of that, he’s not getting his own phone until he’s at least thirteen.”

Luke gawked at Din before letting out a silent chuckle and collecting Grogu into his lap again. Din rolled his eyes as your laughter echoed through the receiver.

“While I have you though,” he started, “you said you were going to send over the construction schedule?”

“Yes!” you said. Din heard the faint clacking of a keyboard as you spoke. “Sending it right now so that you’ll have it whenever you’re ready for it.”

“Thank you, I’ll show it to the team tomorrow.”

“That’s perfect!”

Din let out a little huff as his mind replayed the expression on your face when he’d asked you out. He wondered if the construction would interfere with your date, now that it would be beginning soon. He took a breath in preparation to ask just as your voice began to sound once more.

“Also, about our date… Those first couple weeks of work will be a lot, but I’m sure I’ll still be able to find some solid times for you.”

Your softer, more sheepish tone was like a warm caress to his ear. Knowing the topic was also on your mind had him letting out a breath of relief.

“Yeah, me, too. We’ll work it out.” He cleared his throat as a sudden wave of butterflies erupted in his stomach. “I’m glad you brought it up, I was just beginning to wonder about it.”

“Yeah, I”m…” your voice trailed off, a small shuffling noise making its way to Din’s ear. “... I’m really looking forward to it.”

The shyness in your tone chased away the moisture from his throat. It pushed at something inside him, sending a wave of warmth through every nerve in his body. He gulped down a lungful of air, though it did nothing to satisfy the ache in his chest.

“... Me, too.”

As the call drew to a close, Din found himself less and less willing to hang up. He stayed on the line after you said goodnight, hoping to catch another hint of your voice before the line went dead. He stared at the screen in his hand, now back at the message feed where Grogu had typed gibberish into the message box, his breaths still coming in shallow as he stuck the phone back in his pocket. He looked up to see Luke staring at him, jaw dropped yet grinning while Grogu played with a toy in his lap.

“... What?” Din asked with a pointed glare.

“Nothing, I just-” Luke shook his head. “I’ve never seen you act that way before. You know, with anyone aside from Grogu.”

Grogu perked up at the sound of his name, reaching his arms out towards Din. He lifted him with a sigh and positioned him to stand on his thighs.

“Seriously, smitten is a good look on you. I didn’t know you asked her out!”

“Just did today,” Din said, not taking his eyes off Grogu and making a mental note to turn down the volume if he ever took a call like that again.

“That’s great! I’m happy for you.”

Din let out a small huff, hoping his lack of interaction would silence the topic. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Luke leaning forward to catch his gaze.

“Are you nervous?”

Din glared at him. But those blue eyes could see right through it. How this kid had intuition that sharp at his age was beyond Din. He looked away and relaxed his shoulders, lowering Grogu into a sitting position.

“Figured,” Luke said with a nod. “I don’t blame you. When was the last time you went on a date?”

Din thought back, cycling through the last five years of his memory bank. Then ten. Memories of his life before Grogu were bleak, monotonous, colored in a stale gray that had him feeling empty and robotic from the mere recollection of them. And nothing about his past intimacy was ever romantic.

“Can’t remember.”

Luke sat back with a hum. When he didn’t speak for a while Din turned his full attention back to Grogu, putting him on the ground and watching him waddle towards his pile of toys.

“Let me help you.”

Din turned at the sound of Luke’s voice. He was smiling. Din’s brow scrunched as he processed the words, his muscles contorting in confusion. “What do you mean?”

“You’re probably stressing about it, right? I want to help with that.”

Now that Din was thinking about it, he had no idea what to expect. Where would he take you? What would he say to you?

… What was he supposed to wear?

When he looked back at Luke, he was nodding his head.

“Let me know when you two figure out the details. We’ll start then.”

A strange pressure began to coil around Din’s gut. Not a new sensation, but one he hadn’t felt since he became a father. The telling combination of nerves and insecurity, coupled with the assistance and selflessness of someone with no stake in the matter. How did he always wind up this lucky?

“I’ll…” Din gulped. “I’ll think about it.”

“That’s good enough for me.”

Luke got up and proceeded to collect his things. Din’s gaze darted around the room as his mind continued to race, running in a desperate attempt to catch up with his rapid heartbeat.

“Luke,” he called. When Luke looked back, Din gave him a nod.

“Thank you.”

~~~~

Din called the volunteer team into a meeting the next morning.

“We have a more concrete plan of the building process and timeline,” he began, sitting with them at one of the pullout tables with his laptop in front of him. “I forwarded you all a schedule. You can sign up for dates and times to head over and help based on your own availability. Looks like most of the work will be painting and furnishing the inside, as well as helping finish up the outside. Other groups from around town will be helping as well, so this is estimated to take between one month and two to complete. Any questions?”

Discussion carried on while the group began to sort through their calendars and pass the laptop around to sign up for volunteer days. When they were finished, Cobb clapped his hands together.

“Great to see this comin’ together. But back to business – whose turn is it to get the coffee?”

“Send the Cap,” Mayfeld said with a wave of his hand, not bothering to look up from his phone screen.

“Ha,” Fennec laughed, “My girlfriend’s working today. If you send me, there’s no way I’m coming back before it all gets cold.”

Din bit down a chuckle. Unfortunately for him, Fennec still caught it.

“Send Mando. He never goes.” she threw him a wink.

“Hey, he’s not reliable, either,” Mayfeld looked up with a wry expression and pointed an accusing finger at Din. “What if his girl’s also workin’ and he ditches us?”

A few laughs rang out around the table. Fennec waved her hand towards the far end of the table.

“Vizsla. Go with him, keep him honest.”

Din suppressed a groan with every muscle in his body. Of all the people she could’ve chosen…

Paz heaved an annoyed sigh before getting up and following Din out of the station.

The walk to Cal’s was silent. Too silent.

A tension hung in the air while Din and Paz made their way down the sidewalk. The two of them hardly hung around each other outside of necessity, and the unspoken rift between them had Din’s muscles seizing with each passing moment.

Luckily for them both, the walk was short. Seeing Cal’s come into his line of sight had Din’s muscles slowly unraveling once more. And before they even stepped inside, a grin pulled itself onto his features.

He saw you through the window, face focused on your current task. He couldn’t stop the small bounce in his step as he opened the door and made his way inside, Paz just behind.

~~~~

Your gaze flew to the door as the bell chimed, a smile immediately forming as your heart soared into your throat. Having Din be your first customer of the day was like finding a winning lottery ticket, especially on a day like today, when you weren’t expecting to see him.

“Din!” you said, unable to contain your excitement. “It’s good to see you!”

“Likewise,” he said with a grin. You smiled at the sight of him before you continued to take him in. You gulped as you gazed at every tight curve his uniform accentuated. You had only seen him in it a couple times, yet your eyes never forgot how good he looked in it.

Nor did you body forget how nice it was to look at. Seeing a small hint of belly poking out of his torso was enough to send a rush of heat through your limbs, not to mention the way his collar bone poked out of his neckline.

A small clearing of the throat redirected your attention to Din’s face, and that’s when you noticed his companion. You recognized him from your visit to the station, which meant he must’ve also helped with the Mark’s fire. He was at least a head taller than Din. Sharp, defined facial features, and a shadow of a beard across his cheeks and chin. Black dreads collected and tied behind his head. He gave you a small smile that reminded you of Din’s.

Damn, how did one fire station have this many fine-looking people?

“Paz Vizsla,” he said, voice deep and smooth. “Nice to meet you.”

You nodded and introduced yourself before grabbing a cloth to mindlessly wipe your now clammy hands on.

“So you both are on coffee duty today?” you asked with a small laugh. Din nodded and handed you a list with everyone’s order on it. You made your way over to the register and entered each item in one at a time, putting in you employee discount at the end. Din was staring at you with a raised brow when you looked up, earning a giggle out of you.

“I’ll just pretend I didn’t see that,” he said.

“Good!” you said, trying to keep your voice from cracking. Your hands held a slight tremble as you got to work on the order. Feeling Din’s gaze on you didn’t help, but the last thing you wanted was for him to look away.

You tried to start a conversation to distract yourself from your pounding heart. Din recalled his morning to you, including the meeting he held with the volunteers. Your brow shot up.

“Well, that was fast,” you said, “I’ll be sure to let Karga know. Thank you again.”

“Oh, you made it really easy,” he waved a hand at you. “All I did was pass on the info.”

You chuckled before returning your attention to Paz.

“Are you also on the volunteer team, Mr. Vizsla?”

He nodded. Another wave of warmth spread from your heart. Despite already having done his duty, he too was stepping in to do more.

“You have no idea how much we appreciate you,” you said with a smile.

It didn’t feel like enough to really encapsulate what you were feeling. But how do mere words fill such a gap? Paz seemed satisfied enough, waving a hand and telling you not to mention it.

When all the drinks were complete, each one labeled with who it was for, you moved over to the pastry counter. The fresh cookies competed with the savory breakfast sandwiches for claim over your nose as you opened the case and began bagging each ordered item. You chanced a glance at Din and Paz; their gazes were trained downward, as if they were both in deep contemplation. You grinned and took the opportunity to grab two extra pastry bags.

“Here we go,” you set all the bags, now also labeled, beside the drink carriers and clarified everything on the list before Din and Paz began to collect it all. You bit your lip and clenched your hands together as Din picked up both carriers, stacked to the brim with drinks, as if they weighed nothing. It might’ve been your imagination, but while Paz was collecting the pastries you could’ve sworn you saw Din smirk.

“Thank you both for coming in, it was nice to meet you, Mr. Vizsla!”

He nodded and made his way out the door. You turned to where Din was still standing.

“It was so nice to see you,” you said, your breaths suddenly becoming more shallow now that there was nothing to distract you from those eyes. “... It made my day.”

His smile grew as he set one of the drink carriers back onto the counter. His open hand extended towards you, his palm up and inviting. Your face flooded with heat as you put yours into it and relished in the firm warmth of his fingers wrapping around it. You stared at your connected hands resting together before your gaze traveled up his arm – taking note of the way his muscles bounced away from his elbow like an hourglass, yet remained smooth – and back to his face.

“Same here,” he breathed, giving your hand a squeeze.

You could’ve stayed there forever. Right there, with Din holding your hand as the counter put an unfair amount of space between your bodies. Your mind fluttered back to sitting in his passenger seat, hardly an ounce of air around you that wasn’t being shared with him. You’d been longing for that closeness again, the kind that connected your body to his in a way you didn’t realize was possible before.

A sudden tap on the window made you jump. Paz jerked his head towards the street. Din sighed.

“Guess I gotta go. Sorry I couldn’t stay this time.”

His sad tone felt like a reflection of your own feelings. His hand slowly released yours, reluctance keeping him connected to you for as long as possible before his warmth dissipated from your skin.

“I’ll see you soon though, yeah?” you asked, hoping to bring back his smile. You couldn’t help grinning when it worked.

“Yes. See you soon.”

~~~~

The walk back to the station was as silent as the one before, though less heavy. Din wasn’t surprised to see that you had that effect – not just on him, but apparently on others as well.

“I’ve never seen you want to be social,” Paz said, gaze unmoving from the path in front of him. “Wasn’t sure you even knew how to be.”

Din let out a huff and rolled his eyes. Paz let out a small chuckle.

“Seems like you’re pretty good at it with her, though,” he went on, glancing at Din before looking forward again. “I can understand why you like her.”

Din’s mouth went dry. Paz hadn’t spoken this much to him in ages, let alone with any positive remarks. He cleared his throat and returned his gaze to the front as well, his chest squeezing with a small sense of delight at the notion of someone as indifferent as Paz complimenting you.

Din distributed the drinks once they returned to the station while Paz did the same with the pastries. When two bags remained, Paz handed one to Din with a puzzled expression.

“They’ve got our names on them.”

Din shook his head. Of course you’d given them something. He found a breakfast sandwich inside the bag, wafts of spinach and cheese sending a pleasant warmth into his belly.

“She does that sometimes,” he said with a shrug, trying to keep his joy from flowing into his voice. He jumped a bit when Paz let out a bolstering laugh.

“I like her.”

Din let out a small chuckle of his own as he joined the crew to enjoy his treat, relishing the way you lingered around him without even being in his presence.

****

#the mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #grogu #din djarin x you

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triforceangel13 · 6 months

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Sing Me A Melody Ch. 3 (A BakuDeku Omegaverse Au)

Chapter 3: A Compromise

Katsuki sat in the car outside the coffee shop with Kirishima as well as Sero. His manager had made sure to drive them both over to prevent Katsuki from bailing out on this whole situation.

So far nothing had come up about any copyright issues when it came to the song but it had only been one night. There was still the day to come.

Which was why they were not sitting right outside the coffee shop to talk to the omega that Katsuki had gotten the lyrics from.

“Come on man,” Kirishima said to try to encourage him. “The sooner you talk to him the sooner we can hopefully put this behind us.” Katsuki sighed heavily looking to the notebook in his hands. The pages that still had the omega's scent on them which would be something that Katsuki would seek out during his stressful moments.

Not to mention that their fans would expect their music to be like what this omega had written and be disppointed when their usual works came out.

He should have never done this in the first place.

“Yeah yeah...” he said, his eyes never leaving that notebook. All these songs in this book were so personal. Like a story being told.

So full of sadness and hopefulness at times. He couldn't help but wonder why he was so sad. What had caused such heartache?

But with having to give it back he may very well not know at all. He might just tell him to jump off a cliff or something if he really wanted to, he may very well hate him for what he had done.

And those thoughts alone had caused him to stay planted in his seat in the car.

“Alright, let's go,” Sero said as he started to get out of the car. “If we wait for him to move first we'll never get in there.”

Kirishima pulled open the door, stepping out and looked inside, raising a brow at him. Katsuki let out a heavy sigh and he climbed out of the car as well, adjusting the sunglasses on his nose.

“Let's get his over with,” he sighed.

“You're kidding me,” Uruaka said as he sat at the table with Izuku. She shook her head, shock written on her face. How could this have happened to her friend?

He was so sweet and innocent. From the bits of his life she let him see she knew that he had it rough. And here some famous singer stole his work.

“No...I'm not,” Izuku said softly, holding onto the cup of coffee he had in his hands. “I have his notebook and he has mine. I wouldn't be upset if he asked for it...”

“No, this is wrong Izuku,” Iida said with a scowl.

“Lock the door Iida. We aren't working today,” Uruaka said with a huff, the other beta getting up from the table and going to the door.

The cafe was dead this time of day so it wouldn't be bad to close up for a little bit or even for the rest of the day. Their best worker was not up to it and honestly neither were the other two.

“I take back what I said about being a fan of theirs,” She said. “Izuku we should take this to the internet, tell everyone who will listen. I won't let my friend sit by and let someone else make millions off of a personal song they wrote.”

“No...it's okay...I..” Izuku said softly.

“No,” Uruaka said with a heavy sigh and stood up. “I swear if I see that alpha again I'm gonna-”

“Hold that thought,” Iida immediately called out causing her ot frown, her hands on her hips as she looked to her mate.

“What's going on?” she asked.

“Uh...we have company,” Iida said, stepping aside to let the three men into the cafe.

“I'm sorry, but we're closed,” Uruaka said. “You'll have to come back another time.”

“So sorry miss,” Sero said, holding his hand out. “I am Sero, band manager to Hero's Purpose . Might we have a word with..I'm sorry, we do not know your name.”

Izuku's eyes widened as Sero's eyes landed right on him. He paled a bit and watched as he and the other two alphas stepped into the little cafe.

“Izuku Midoriya,” Izuku said, his voice squeaking a little bit.

Sero led the way to the table and he offered his hand with a handshake. Izuku took it slowly, watching as the other alphas sat down as well.

Already Izuku knew that this was Red Riot and Dynamight. His chest tightened.

He hadn't expected this at all.

“Nice to meet you,” Kirishima said, shaking his hand next, watching as Uruaka came and sat back down next to Izuku, Iida staying by the door to keep watch.

Katsuki offered his hand next. Izuku hesitated and then shook his hand, a feeling like a warmth rushing through Izuku's body suddenly.

He looked up at Katsuki, the blonde's eyes widening behind his sunglasses.

Izuku took his hand back, unsure how to feel about that. What in the world was that? And clearly he hadn't been the only one to feel that.

“What do you want with Izuku?” Uruauka asked with a frown. Sero rose a brow and then set his phone down, setting it to record their voices.

“What's that for?” Kirishima asked.

“For legal purposes in case we need to go to court,” Sero said.

“Court?!” Izuku exclaimed.

“Let's start over,” Katsuki sighed heavily, pulling off his sunglasses and setting down the notebook that he had in his possession. “I am Katsuki Bakugou, and on record I had accidentally taken your notebook and had used a song without permission.”

“At least he admitted it,” Uruska huffed softly at that. Izuku inhaled slowly.

“Iida, can you grab my bag?” he asked.

“Sure,” he said, leaving to go get it.

“We thank you that you hadn't gone to the public about our situation,” Kirishima stated. “Honestly we hadn't known about this until the night of the concert. We even practiced it and everything. By the way, it was really good.”

“I um...thank you?” he said and looked to Katsuki who looked very uncomfortable, especially under the glare of his best friend.

“I do plan on telling everyone that I was not the one that had written it and that you had. I can keep you annonymous if you wanted,” Katsuki offered.

“Yes, please,” Izuku said quickly, clearing his throat. “I just don't want anyone knowing it was me.”

“You could make a lot of money man with your work. You should think about making your own music,” Kirishima stated.

“Not helping man,” Katsuki snapped at his friend.

“You're making money off of his work and he gets to see nothing?” Uruaka asked. “Hardly fair if you ask me. I could record this conversation myself and blast it all over the social media platforms that I have at my disposal.”

“Seriously?” Katsuki growled. “That's why we came here in the first place.”

“Well you-”

“Enough,” Sero said about them all so that they all quieted down. “We're here today to have a discussion, not a fight or attacking one another.”

“Whatever,” Uruaka grumbled.

Katsuki rolled his eyes, ready to say something again but stopped when he got a kick under the table from Sero.

“Katsuki has admitted his wrong doing,” Sero explained. “To keep the public off of everyone's backs we are offering money and full rights to his song. Katsuki will go public with the song wasn't his. The notebook will be returned to it's rightful owner.”

“How much?” Uruska asked.

“Does she need to be here?” Katsuki growled.

“I'm his best friend and I am not letting someone take advantage of him,” She replied glaring daggers at the blonde.

Iida appeared with the bag, Izuku taking it with a soft thanks and cleared his throat.

“Iida, could you and Uruaka wait in the kitchen please?” he asked.

“But-” Uruaka said, her eyes widening as Iida gently grabbed her arm and pulled her up.

“I've got it,” Izuku promised her.

She hesitated but then let out a sigh, standing up and left with Iida. Izuku let out a sigh himself and pulled out Katsuki's notebook.

“So that's where it went,” Katsuki said, a slight smirk pulling on his face as he offered Izuku his notebook back. The omega took it slowly, holding out Katsuki's as well.

Honestly it took all Katsuki's willpower not to bring it to his nose and take a whiff of the omega's scent that clung to the pages.

“I hope you don't mind but I did read some,” Izuku said. “There are some really good ones in there.”

“Only fair considering what I did,” Katsuki offered. “You really liked my work?”

“Always have. You can feel the emotion in your words,” Izuku explained, his cheeks turning a light shade of red.

The smile tugged on Katsuki's face and he pulled the sunglasses off, their eyes locking from across the table.

Kirishima cleared his throat, the two of them looking away.

“Anyway,” Kirishima said. “What do you say Midoriya?”

“Well...” Izuku said softly.

“If you don't want a one time payment we can settle on you gaining your share when it comes to whatever money the band gains from it,” Sero suggested.

Izuku looked between all of them, the smell of distress seeming to start coming through Izuku's sweet homey scent.

“Hey,” Katsuki said, voice soft which had the other two looking at him in shock. This was a side of Katsuki they had never seen before. He was always brash and either yelling or growling. Here he was speaking softly.

Izuku met his gaze again, swallowing hard.

“Don't feel like we're pushing you. If you want to do something different we can,” he offered.

“Katsuki,” Sero said with a scowl.

The blonde ignored him, keeping Izuku's gaze fixated on him.

After a moment Izuku nodded. “I agree to taking my share of when the band makes money from using my song.”

“Excellent,” Sero said, pulling out a piece of paper. “Sign here.”

“Now that we have that all settled we should be heading out,” Sero said, turning off the phone and putting all of the papers in his bag. “We'll be in touch Mr. Midoriya. And thank you.” The three of them got up, heading for the door. Katsuki stared back at him for a few moments before slipping on his sunglasses again and out the door with the others.

Izuku let out a sigh, Uruaka coming out with Iida, biting her lip.

“You okay?” she asked softly.

“Yeah,” Izuku said, pulling his notebook to his chest and inhaled gently and subtly. It smelled a lot like the alpha which had him relaxing for some reaosn. Why was he attracted to the man so much. Sure he was good looking but he had a mark on his neck, much like Izuku did. He was taken.

“If it's okay, I'm going to go home,” Izuku said, pulling himself up.

“Yeah, go ahead. Get some rest,” Uruaka said. “We'll handle it from here.”

“Thank you,” Izuku said giving them a gentle hug.

On his way down the street to head to his home he flipped throuh the pages, finding on the last page a phone number with a small message.

“If you ever want to talk, feel free to do so.” it read.

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#my hero academia #bakudeku #omegaverse #sing me a melody

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