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ohmystaxk · 1 year

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Goodbye, My Dear Stranger (1)

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Pairing(s): (Jake Lockley x Reader) (Steven Grant x Reader, Marc Spector x Reader later on) [Pre-Moon Knight show]

Content/Tags: CONTENT WARNINGS AND MORE WILL BE ADDED WITH EACH PART. Strangers to friends to lovers, coffee shop “au/trope”, reader only knows Jake and Steven at first, Marc and Steven are not yet aware of Jake, Jake loves coffee, reader is Hispanic coded, non-explicit voyeurism (not at first), Sexual Harassment, Slow burn, future smut.

Word Count: 3.7k

Summary: It was an accident really, you never really tried to be nosey, yet you found your gaze shifting to the open windows of the apartment across the street from yours and so happened to have a perfect view into your neighbor’s home. There were no drapes to protect their privacy, so you would always be taking peeks in the middle of the night when you noticed a lamp staying on, a lonesome shadow pacing around, then sitting down for hours on end.

But you slowly found yourself falling into a routine. Leaving your lamp on during the night, opening your drapes and sitting down by the window as you work silently seemed normal until you noticed an addition to said unspoken routine between the two of you. That included a stranger starting to show up at your work to order coffee, always by himself, always quiet, and always seeming to be keeping an eye on you.

The last lock on your door turned with a soft click and the door swung open as you let yourself into your loft. The light from the corridor illuminated the space inside, your shadow casted by the doorway. Then you clicked the speaker on the phone as you closed the door behind you. Luckily you had let the kitchen light on, allowing comfort into the empty place, flickering the main light switch, bringing it to life.

“Did he actually fucking say that to you?” A voice spoke from the phone. You laughed at your best friend's tone, even from halfway across the world it was like they were on the brink of strangling someone. You leaned on the table as you started taking off your heels. “What a dickhead! You dressed all nice and looked amazing. And he called you a bitch for not sleeping with him!? What a fucking idiot!”

“Too bad. He was decent looking.”

You heard an exaggerated gasp coming from your friend.

“It’s always the nice ones! Man can’t do shit right I swear!” They said and you shook your head with a smile, grabbing your phone and walking towards the kitchen.

“Thank you, seriously. But what can I expect? Man was full of himself, all talk about what he does and how much he travels. He barely let me speak at all and then he goes on and on about how he was hoping for something else after. We were halfway through the dinner and was asking me to fuck. I thought my profile was easy to read.” You said, your eyes fell on the brand new bottle of red wine sitting on the fridge door, your mouth suddenly felt dry to the promise of the liquor.

“Fuck him. Good thing he actually ended up showing his true colors rather than later into anything.” Your friend then sighed as you grabbed the bottle and closed the fridge. “Holy shit, can’t believe I woke up early for you. It’s about to be seven in the morning now. I should probably get out of bed now. Anyway, love you, go to bed now.”

“Or maybe open a nice bottle of red.” They laughed and there was a pause.

“Of course, you could alway open that window of yours and give a little show.” This time you gasped with a laugh.

“Good morning to you!”

“Come on! The dude might be hot.” You rolled your eyes with a half smile.

“Could be, but I will never know. He could also be somebody's grandfather.” Your friend let out a snort and that made you laugh again.

“You got me there. Good night then, enjoy that nice wine of yours.” They said and ended the call after you said your goodbyes.

You moved around your small kitchen, grabbing a wine glass and a corkscrew. After pouring yourself a generous amount, you brought the glass to your mouth and the bittersweet taste made you close your eyes. You needed this, especially after that god awful excuse of a date. You knew it was too good to be true.

After turning off the main light, you found yourself sitting on the beat up loveseat you had set up right next to your window. The small coffee table next to it held the book you had been reading for the past three nights. There was something about the scenery that made you feel like one of those movie scenes. A cozy moment of welcome solitude. As your fingers itched to reach for it, the corner of your eyes caught a light coming from across the street.

A very familiar light.

Your eyes betrayed you and focused their attention towards your neighbor's window. The window that just happened to be within your direct line of sight. Your view inside was limited, but that didn’t prevent you from seeing your neighbor pacing around the dark space of their condo.

Truth be told, this wasn’t the first time your eyes had wandered to the window. The first time was a month ago. You had gotten tired of working from your bedroom and decided some natural lighting would benefit you. So, you placed a small table by the living room window. The same window you were looking out of now.

It was an accident really, you had started to notice that, around the same time every night, your neighbor would come home, turn on a few lights, yet not all. Then they would sometimes pace around, you would always catch a glimpse of a shadow sitting down on a chair, next to what you could only guess were books stacked on top of each other.

Ever since then, you had worked on that table, or sat down on the loveseat as you read something. Every time, your eyes would catch whenever your neighbor would get up and do something else. You didn’t understand why observing what other people did fascinated you, but it did.

Your neighbor had once again walked past the window and this time they stood there, their back facing you for a second. You brought the wine glass up to your mouth as you tried picking up your book with your free hand. Just as you opened the book, your glass still in hand, you noticed their figure move away from the window and disappear from your view. But it didn't take long for something else to catch your attention. They were turning on the main light, and your eyes slightly widened at the sudden realization. They had the lights on, not a lamp, but the actual lights.

Their window was opposite from their kitchen and you were right, you could see piles of books all over the space. Of course, your field of vision was minimal with such distance but the dark allowed for some visibility. Then, you saw him, walking towards the kitchen with his back towards you. Dark curly hair, tan skin, long nose and body tight black t-shirt. That was your neighbor from across the street, the same one you shared a view of downtown, the same one that seemed to always be sleepless.

You felt your glass start to slip from your grasp, but tightened your hold of it. He turned around to walk away for a second, and you almost jumped off the couch thinking he could see you. Maybe it was the distance, but he seemed too young to be somebody’s grandfather. Definitely around his late thirties, maybe early forties. And your friend was right. He was hot.

He appeared back within view and you dumbly stared as he cooked something, moving through the kitchen with ease and confidence. You downed the entire glass and stood up. One glass would not be enough.

You made your way to the kitchen and poured yourself more wine. Your eyes shifted to your window, they were still cooking. Your phone still sat next to the bottle, you grabbed it and started typing a text.

‘ Yeah, definitely not a grandpa.’ And pressed send. Not even a second later, your phone chimed.

‘Wait...YOU SAW HIM?’ As you were about to reply, you stopped.

Your gut twisted. Something felt wrong.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as you looked towards the window. Your neighbor was now standing by his window, looking directly your way. You stood there. The light of your phone illuminating your face, and the light of the lamp casting shadows on your body. Before you realized it, you found yourself on the floor, crouching down, still holding your phone.

He had to have seen you. But you were nowhere near the window. He was still cooking when you'd last looked, there was no way he had seen you staring. Unless he stared back too.

‘I THINK HE JUST FUCKING CAUGHT ME!!’ You texted in a sudden panic.

You knew logically it was impossible for him to see you, with how much light he had on. But even then, the idea made you feel embarrassed, that he would realize a random person would be staring into his flat.

‘Ooh! You’re in troubleee!’ Your phone pinged and you saw the text.

‘No shit!’ You locked the phone and the screen went black.

You slowly stood up, your eyes trying to find the window. When you did, you were glad to see him back in the kitchen, continuing with what he was doing.

“I need to go to bed.” You said to yourself.

You stood up fully, closed the wine bottle, and put it back in the refrigerator. You went to the lamp, turning it off and then towards the main light switch, killing all the lights in the place.

You stood there in the dark for a second. The moonlight washed the darkness and you felt your eyelids feel heavy.

Of course, you knew watching strangers wasn’t the most moral thing to do. It was an invasion of privacy and if it was the other way around, it would freak you out. You had caught a glimpse of him, so now you could stop. You should stop.

And you will.

The doorbell rang, and two clients entered the coffee shop. You smiled at them as you placed down an order and called it out. You walked back to the register, wiping your hands on your apron. The clients seemed like a couple, standing shoulder to shoulder as they read the menu. As to look busy, you opted to observe the place.

There weren’t as many people tonight. Twelve people sat down with their drinks and baked goods. You were nearing closing time, about thirty minutes or so. The shop was owned by two women, one from Colombia and the other from Mexico who had seeked an opportunity to open a coffee shop and bakery with authentic pastries from their respective countries.

The place was on the small side, but the decor made it seem spacious. It was a nice place, truly; an old accent brick wall while the rest were bone-white, hanging plants everywhere, thick wooden furniture, lots of frames with pictures of Mexico and Colombia. It was cozy, and aesthetically pleasing as some people that came in would often say. And not to forget how good a lot of the food was. Sadly it didn’t have much traffic, but had enough to pay the bills and have it standing.

“Excuse me, I was wondering, does the store carry any vegan options?” The question made you look at the girl. You politely answered that it in fact did and a few seconds later you were writing down on each cup their order and proceeded to prepare it. Today was only you, since Deanna had called in sick. The good thing was that it hardly got too busy for you to struggle by yourself. Although, whenever the Museum down the street got busy, the shop did too. Luckily tonight had not been the case, so you worked with ease, humming alongside the song playing in the shop.

Voy a navegar en tu puerto azul (I'm going to sail in your blue port)

Quisiera saber de dónde vienes tú (I’d like to know where you come from)

Vamos a dejar que el tiempo pare (Let's let time stop)

Ver nuestros recuerdos en los mares (See our memories in the seas)

Y esta soledad tan profunda (And this deep loneliness)

It had definitely been a good song for a slow night, made you feel like you were in a dream. Almost. Five minutes later, you were done with the couple’s order. You placed their pastries on two plates along with forks and spoons. You called out their order and walked back to the register. Your phone buzzed in your back pocket.

You pulled it out and saw a message from Deanna, asking if it had been busy during the night. Quickly, you sent her a reply telling her how it went, then asked how she was feeling. You put the phone back and opted to start cleaning around.

After cleaning three tables you went back to the prep station, where you wiped the counters with a towel. People started leaving after twenty minutes and five people remained seated. They seemed to be having a good time, but there were around ten more minutes until closing time. You had pretty much cleaned whatever you could without putting away much that could still be needed.

That was until the door bell rang, your eyes went towards the door. There stood a man who seemed rather out of place, in the sense that it seemed he had no idea why he had come in. You walked to the register with a polite smile.

“Welcome, feel free to look at our menu, unless you are ready to have your order taken.” You said and the man looked towards you. He had an Ivy cap on, something that was common for cab drivers to wear, perhaps he was one. Your smile faltered as you took in his features.

Tan skin, long nose, dark hair, and around his late thirties. Of course this man could be anyone in London but he looked just like one man in particular. Your neighbor. The mysterious man from the window across the street, the same one you managed to catch a glimpse of just last night. Now, there he stood. He was in your shop now, standing there and goddamn did you hope your brain was playing tricks.

“I’ll take a look.” Was all he said after a second. That was not what you thought he would sound like. A close enough Brooklyn accent mixed with something else, something deep and rich. The kind of voice you would want to narrate an audiobook of your favorite romance book.

“Of course.” You said quieter than intended. He had barely looked at you. But, oh boy, were you staring. You looked at the table of five to distract yourself. They were deep in their conversation.

“Café de la Olla.” You snapped your head towards the man and frowned at him.

“Excuse me?” You felt dumb when he seemed to take in a breath, his brown eyes turning to yours. He looked tired, exhausted even.

“One Café de la Olla.” His Spanish was perfect. You heard no mispronunciation from that short sentence. That explained the accent you couldn’t quite place earlier.

“Of course. Yes, sir. So, it will be one Café de Olla. Anything else you would like?” When you said that, his eyes shifted to the display below the register, all the breads and pastries right there, waiting to be picked. Then his gaze shifted behind you, he frowned then.

“What does that mean?” He pointed behind you and your eyes followed. There was a chalkboard with the words ‘One medium drink and one cupcake of your choice for 10% off if you ask for SOTD!’

“Song of the day. We will recommend a song of our choosing from our shop playlist. I can write it down on the cup or on a napkin if that’s what you would prefer.” You explained and he stared at the words behind you for an awkward amount of time. You glanced back at the occupied table when you noticed someone standing up, immediately followed by the rest of the group.

“Napkin is fine.” He said. You looked back at him and nodded with a smile.

“Alright, do you have a specific cupcake in mind?” He looked down and then back at you.

“What do you like?” The question took you back for a second before you replied.

“Well, a couple, I have to admit. But Mrs. Cardenas makes the most delicious churros and chocolate mix. I guess that one is my favorite.” You smile genuinely when he seems to think it over.

“That one then.” He placed a hand on his back pocket and pulled out his wallet. Before you could tell him the total, he dropped a bill two times the amount. “To go.” He then walked off and sat at the furthest table.

The group of five all started walking out of the shop, one of them thanked you for serving them, and proceeded to wish you goodbye. You grabbed the bill and put it to the side as you began to prepare the coffee. The music seemed quiet even though you knew, in reality, it was louder due to the silence between you and the man. You wanted to glance back, see if he was staring, since that was all you felt; a heavy gaze on you.

After a few more minutes, you had everything ready to go. The coffee was all done, the cupcake in a small to-go box and inside a paper bag, and his change right next to them. You were placing some napkins when you remembered the song of the day offer. You grabbed the closest pen and wrote a song title on the napkin.

Solitud y el Mar by Natalia Lafourcade feat. Los Macorinos.

“Your order is ready.” You called out. And then the doorbell rang.

You turned to see two men walking in. One almost tripped while the other messily tried to keep both of them on their feet. You smiled apologetically at them as you leaned over the counter and closer to them in order to make sure they would be able to hear you.

“Hello. I’m sorry, but we are closing now.” They looked at you. They seemed to be around their mid twenties. The two bumped into each other and raised their eyebrows.

You didn’t like that. Not at all.

“Seems pretty open to me, love.” His friend snorted at that.

“There’s our business hours by the door. We’re closed now.” You tried to be as polite as possible. However, they didn’t seem to get the message.

“Come on now! Can’t you just take our order? We’ll leave you a big tip.” The other said.

“Or two.” The first one continued and they laughed. You tried your best to remain calm.

You were so close to walking out right there and then.

“Sorry, but it’s store policy. You two have to go.” Once you said that, the second one walked up to the counter and leaned over, invading your personal space.

“She said it’s closed.” Another voice seemed to have caught him by surprise. Your assumed to be neighbor’s firm voice almost made you jolt. He was standing by your right side, now the two of you behind the counter. You noticed his jaw was clenched, the vein on his neck prominent. He had his eyes set on the two intruders.

“Where did you even come from, mate?” The second one asked, seemingly surprised he didn’t notice him when he walked in.

“She said it’s closed. So, you too better get the fuck out.” He placed his hand gently on your arm, pushing you away from the men and placing himself as a wall as if the counter wasn’t enough distance for his liking. The two men stared at him in disbelief, but almost in a mocking way.

“Or what? We’re not leaving.”

“You will, because I’m not allowing two hijos de puta talking like that to my wife and leaving unscathed.” Your eyes widened at that. You guessed that was one way to get them off your back.

“You’re married to this twat?” His friend slapped his chest, giving him a look to cut it off.

“The fuck you called me?” Your fake husband took two steps forward and yanked the guy by the collar, bringing him halfway across the counter. You reacted by grabbing the man’s bicep and squeezing it, your other hand laying flat on his back. The action seemed to remind him of your presence as he turned to look at you from over his left shoulder. The last thing you wanted right then was having to explain how three men had a fight inside the shop.

“We’re going, mate! Ain’t worth fighting over that.” The first one said to his companion as he eyed you. You scoffed at his comment. After a minute or so, your companion let go of the guy’s collar. With a little reluctance, the men left.

You let out a deep breath, walking around the counter and towards the door, and flipped the open sign to close.

“¿Estás bien?” The man asked. You turned around to face him and you almost jolted backwards. (Are you okay?)

He was now standing close, a frown on his face, his eyes looked deep as he seemed to take in your features.

“Yeah, I’m alright. Thank you.” His frown deepened.

“¿Por qué?” You opened and closed your mouth. (What for?)

“For helping me, you didn’t have to.” He then laughed. A small and quick laugh but oh boy did you like the sound of it.

“I sure did have to. Only a pussy would let others talk to a woman like that.” You almost laughed. Almost. Not only did he look pissed, he sounded upset as well.

“Thank you, and I mean it. Sadly not many would actually do it. So, thank you.” You waited and then he seemed to understand.

“Jake.” It sounded good when he said it and you liked it. Definitely not a name you expected. But it fit him.

“Well, thank you, Jake.” You gave him a smile and he gave you a small one back. His eyes fell on the name tag on your apron and he sighed.

“I have to get back to work.” He said and you nodded.

“Of course. Your order is by the counter.” He nodded and walked towards his things, he grabbed them and walked back towards you.

“I’ll make sure they don’t stay around. Buenas noches, y gracias por el café.” With that he walked out.( Good night, and thanks for the coffee.)

You stood by the door as you watched Jake walk down the street until you could not see him anymore. You locked the door and made your way back to the kitchen. That was when you noticed the coins and bills still on the counter. “A big tip, huh?”

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A/N: omg i am so excited to have written this! I had this little idea for a while and wanted finally to do it!! This is my first time writing a reader fic, especially in English so please do let me know of any possible errors!

#jake lockely x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector x reader #jake lockley #steven grant #marc spector #moon knight #oscar isaac #fanfic #moon knight fanfic #moon knight x reader #goodbye my dear stranger

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