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all-alone-he-turns-to-stone · 3 months

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Crazy, Stupid, Love

Dean Winchester Masterlist

Summary: When Dean has to work at a café to learn infos on a hunt, he thinks it's the worst. Until he meets her. At first, she's only kind of an annoying coworker. But an unfortunate event brings them closer, and Dean starts feeling things for her. If it's love, he doesn't know. But for the first time, he starts wondering how it would feel to have a normal life. A normal job. And a normal relationship. But first, he needs to get her revenge against that shitty boss.

Note: this happens in the begining of season one

Word Count: 9k

Pairing: Dean x F!Reader

Content Warning: Toxic work place, rude customer, humiliation, bullying, swearing

Squares: Humiliation for @hurtcomfort-bingo,/ Revenge for @jacklesversebingo

A/n: I'm gonna be honest, at first, I didn't want to post this fic. When I saw the attention the last few fics I took so much time to write got, it made me sad... But then I remembered how much fun I had with this one, so decided to post it in case someone else has the same fun reading it. ALSO! This was for @eevvvaa writing challenge! I picked the movie Crazy Stupid Love but actually used the quotes! They will be in bold in the text. Happy reading!

Usually, this situation would have upset him. After all, he was stuck here 8 hours per day, 5 days per week and always finished too late to go to the nearest bar afterwards. It also wasn’t the best first real job to have, as it was lame, boring, and always the same thing. But working at a café also had its advantages.

Like the beautiful barista that he had the chance to see on his first day. She was leaving, as she was only working mornings, and he was working evenings, but Dean couldn’t detach his eyes from her. Beautiful body, hair immaculate even after 8 hours of wearing a net, skin tanned to perfection.

“Oh great, another one.”

That wasn’t the girl he was talking about. No, the girl that just spoke was Y/n. At first glance, she looked like the manager. With the most seniority in here, she knew how things were done and how to do them quickly. But she was no boss. To make her agree to be his trainer and show him the basics, the real boss had to insist a lot. He didn’t know all the details, though, but she ended up accepting.

It was for a hunt. Otherwise, Dean would never be here. Sam said there was something weird in the neighborhood, and that the best way to discover what was going on was to talk with the community. And the best place to have conversations with people that didn’t want to talk with the police was of course at the local café. All the rumors and crispy details of the town were floating in there. The reason why it wasn’t Sam doing the whole barista thing was as simple as upsetting.

“Dean, you have all the charm. People- ladies- will open up to you like blooming flowers in the spring.”

Ugh.

Back to the present, Dean ignored Y/n’s comment and tilted his head to the side, still eyeing the morning employee that was leaving. “What do I have to do to get on the morning shift?”

A groan of annoyance resonated behind him. His smile fell. He was stuck with her for a while, as they were both working evening shifts.

Alone together.

There were 60 seconds in one minute. And 60 minutes in one hour. A shift lasted 8 hours here. That was way too many seconds to spend doing nothing but wait to leave.

All that was in his head was the hot chick he kept seeing since he started working here. After only bumping into her these past 2 weeks, Dean finally decided to ask her on a date. And since he was Dean Winchester, no one could tell him no. And the same day, after his shift, he would meet her in front of the pizza place that was two blocks away.

And he couldn’t stop looking at the clock, head in his hand, hoping that staring at it would make the time go faster.

“I asked for a hot caramel latte with almond milk and no foam, what the hell is this?!”

It was near the end. In 15 minutes, the shop would be closed and then it was cleaning time. Weeping the floor, throwing away the remaining food that was not sold, washing the dishes, etc. That was always his favorite part, because even if Y/n was a pain in the ass as his supervisor, she was chill and allowed him to choose the radio station while they cleaned and he could leave once his part was done.

At first, the voice didn’t alert him, and Dean kept on making himself busy with cleaning tables that didn’t need it. But then, something broke, the sound heavy of meaning, and he was on alert. Every fiber of his body was on and he turned to the source of the sound.

Right at the counter, there was a man with his back to him. Without seeing his face, Dean knew he was angry. Pissed, even. At his feet, a broken cup, porcelain in pieces covered the floor soaked in coffee. Two steps allowed Dean to know what the man was looking at, and when he saw her…

He immediately rushed without thinking.

“I’m gonna ask you to leave, sir,” Dean put his hand on the customer’s shoulder, which made him jump. The man turned to him and aggressively stepped back.

“Don’t touch me,” the man hissed. “You’re working here, huh?” He looked up and down at Dean, noticing the apron of the café he was wearing. “Must be the manager here. Well, your employee here is worthless, you should be careful who you hire, for fuck sake!”

At that, Dean couldn’t help but wince. That was unnecessary rude to say. He glanced at Y/n again and felt his heartbeat with pain. Her head was down, probably to hide tears. That was probably not the first time she had to serve asshole customers, but it was the first time Dean noticed it. Working in customer service was not easy at all, you had to be strong to endure all of that everyday.

He only knew Y/n for about two weeks, but he already knew a lot about her. She was calm. Kind. She cared about doing her job right. Yeah, she was a bit bossy and used every opportunity to send subtle little insults towards Dean just enough to annoy him, like how he couldn’t even do a coffee, in this economy? But it was never mean and he liked that side of her that didn’t let people step on her toes. But right now, in front of that man? She was small. She wanted to hide. It wasn’t the Y/n he knew.

“I’m not the boss,” Dean answered finally, placing his gaze back on the man. “But we’re closed, so I’m gonna ask you to leave.”

The rude customer was the last one in the café, so it wasn’t like he was breaking any rules. And he was Dean Winchester. He made the rules.

Red seemed to eat at the man’s face so much he was angry. “Not before I get what I fucking paid for!” He started yelling. Dean didn’t mind being screamed at, he was used to it with his dad, how sad it sounded. But when the man turned to Y/n to yell at her, Dean couldn’t hold himself back. “You useless cunt!”

“I said, out!” Dean grabbed the customer by the neck and quickly sent him backwards. His legs met the table right behind him, but it wasn’t enough to make him understand. The man lunged forward in an attempt to hit Dean, but he didn’t know.

Dean was waiting for it.

The fist missed, and the man stumbled into the void and collapsed on the floor like a clown.

“This isn’t over,” the man growled and got up. Sure he would strike again, Dean was ready to fight. But this time, the fist didn’t miss. The pain came later, a few seconds after the hunter realized he got hit in the face. Fortunately for his ego, Dean managed to stay on his feet and not fall pathetically on the floor.

He reached for the wound.

It was right near his left eye, it would bruise for sure.

With deadly flames in his green eyes, he looked at his target.

“Oh, you’re dead.”

The rest happened quickly.

Dean decided he wouldn’t hold back anymore. As his head throbbed with ache and anger, he was about to hit with everything he got. But at the last moment, something interrupted him. A body, warm, soft, encircling his own, stopped him from moving.

“Please stop…”

Her voice woke him up completely. Shaking, she put herself between the two men to stop the fight even if she was scared.

The man took the opportunity to run away, the bell chiming behind him as the door closed violently.

A long silence followed the departure of the aggressive customer. A couple of seconds passed, then minutes, before she realized there was no silence actually. Things were happening around her, words were spoken, and the only person besides her was running around locking doors and closing blinds, cursing every word he could think of at the moment.

Her hearing was nothing but a shrill sound, almost painful, like she was deaf. It took another minute and him calling her name for her to come back to the present.

"You okay? He didn't hurt you?" Dean was kneeling in front of her. She finally noticed she was sitting down on a chair. Shaking her head, she tapped her hands in her face to finish waking herself up from her slumber.

"You're hurt and you ask me if I'm okay?" She stood up as she spoke, Dean doing the same. Then she seemed to disappear in the backstore to come back with a bag of frozen vegetables they used for the soup. "Sit down," she instructed.

Dean would have been impressed by her capacity to focus after such an event, especially with how she was a couple of seconds ago, but he knew better. She wouldn't meet his gaze, her head was down, and when he glanced at her hands, it was to see them shake.

"Y/n-"

"Oh, come on, sit down, your masculinity won't suffer too much, I just want to check," she rolled her eyes and almost pushed him to the chair. Dean let himself be moved around with a smirk. That was the Y/n he knew. "There, it's not that bad, huh?"

"It's no big deal," he tried to convince her, after all, as a hunter, he got hurt more than once before and healed perfectly fine. But when he saw her, he understood. And he let himself be checked by her only for her. To reassure her it was nothing, it was fine, it would bruise into a black eye and nothing else.

"Okay, it's not that bad," she sighed in relief as she said that.

"Told you," Dean snickered with a smile. "Ouch!"

The frozen bag was now on his bruise and Y/n was turning her back to him. His first instinct was to ask her if she was okay, check on her, after all, she seemed pretty shaken up, but he knew she needed time, that was all.

"We should call the police," Dean ended up saying. Usually, he would never propose that, but the customer was human. A monster in some sort, but completely human, so the police could take care of it.

"No!" She turned harshly towards Dean, surprising him.

"Why not?"

Pacing back and forth, Y/n seemed to get lost in her thoughts. "It's not necessary, I doubt the customer will come back, and it would put the cafe in a bad spot, we would lose customers and…"

Again, Dean knew. Y/n was a good employee, she loved doing her job right, but she hated the place, hated the menu and the disgusting coffee served here, and hated the management. But they were the ones giving her her salary at the end of the month, so she couldn't disappoint them.

"I can deal with the boss," Dean said, standing up, the bag still on his eye.

In front of him, Y/n sadly shook her head. "It won't be necessary." She pointed at one corner of the cafe. Then another. "There's cameras around, and he loves to watch. Loves to tell us everything we do wrong. He probably already knows it happened. We'll see tomorrow, I guess," she sighed. Then, like a thought crossed through her head, she lifted her head completely and crossed gaze with Dean. "Your date! You're gonna be late!"

Dean wanted to laugh. So badly. Of course, he talked to her about it. Kristina, their coworker from the morning shift and Dean's date, was waiting for him. But after what happened, it completely got out of his head. Smiling, he shook his head and placed the bag of defrosting vegetables on the table beside him.

"I'll call her, say something came up. She'll understand."

Y/n cringed, biting her lips and frowning. "I don't think she cares enough to understand. But you're cute and sexy so maybe she'll forgive your ass."

Immediately after saying those words, Y/n became a puddle of embarrassment. Her body flushed with the realization of what she just admitted.

"Really?" Dean would not let that go. "You think I'm the perfect combination of sexy and cute ?"

"Shut up," she murmured between her teeth, grabbing the nearest thing, the cloth he was using to clean the tables, to throw it at him. "Get out of here your shift is over."

"Yeah," Dean surprised himself by what he said next. "But I won't let you walk back home alone. Consider me your cute and sexy bodyguard," he laughed at her reaction, but it was nothing compared to the sound leaving his mouth when he received another cloth on the head. "Hey, this one was wet"

"Oops!"

The next day started pretty badly. After a complicated night with barely any sleep and lots of nightmares, Y/n got up early to get ready. Even if her shift started at 3pm, she knew the phone would ring and the ruthless voice of her boss would order her to come in to talk.

About what happened.

It was not even noon when it happened. She was at her third coffee, so she had energy even if she felt dead inside. Since she was already dressed, all she had to do was grab her stuff and head to the cafe. Like usual, she had to walk since she didn't have enough savings to buy a car.

The weather was quite nice, compared to how gloomy she was feeling. It was warm and sunny outside. Y/n barely made a step out, locking her door, that a loud engine startled her. The sun was reflecting strongly on the hood, blinding her as she walked with caution towards it, and for a moment she thought maybe it was the customer that found her and came to finish what he started. Fortunately she recognized the car quickly, as it was the same car that drove her home last night.

A 67 chevy impala.

It was even more beautiful than when she saw it yesterday.

The drive to the cafe was quiet, apart from the chichats. How are you? Do you feel better? So, did he call you too? Usually, Y/n would have commented on something random just to annoy Dean, but when he turned his head towards her at a red light to ask her a question, she saw the bruise around his eyes, reminding her of the night before and how everything was her fault. If only she hadn't messed up the order…

Once parked in front of the cafe, Dean stopped the engine to turn to Y/n. "Hey," he said in a calm and steady voice. "Whatever happens there, it was neither our fault."

"I appreciate it, Dean, but it was. I was in charge, even though I told the boss more than once that I didn't want to be, so what happens on my shift is my fault." Without leaving him time to answer, she opened the door and left the car to enter the cafe.

The moment she stepped inside, a loud silence echoed around her. Every employee stopped chatting to stare at her, the customers mimicking their actions, wondering what was so much more interesting than getting their order right and fast.

Y/n hated that. The attention. The eyes on her. The silence. Her body started shaking, both with anger and humiliation, the tears almost painful to hold back. But then, as she was about to step towards the boss' office, a warmth settled on her shoulder, stopping the tremors at once. And a voice she was starting to grow fond of whispered near her ear.

"Ignore them. They don't matter right now."

With Dean, she felt safe. Strong. Like she could do everything and never feel afraid anymore. That was until they were sitting in the office in front of the boss.

“Y/n, I am wildly disappointed with you. What you did was beyond unprofessional, and I can’t believe I have to do this. You’re suspended.”

It was nothing less than what she expected from her boss. Since working there, she had done everything to stay in his good graces, sometimes doing other people's jobs to compensate. Everything to keep the restaurant clean and to continue serving fresh food every day. It wasn't Kristina who would write down expiration dates on perishable products, or place the new arrival of breads behind the ones already there to prevent the oldest ones from remaining at the bottom of the shelf, covered in mold. If this place passed the health inspection every year, it was thanks to Y/n’s efforts, efforts that no one had ever noticed or considered.

It was probably better that way.

Head bowed, Y/n took a harsh breath and opened her mouth to apologize and admit her boss was right. However, the words could not come out of her mouth fast enough, because someone else was already speaking.

“This is bullshit,” Dean exclaimed. A quick glance in his direction, and Y/n could see his hands forming fists on his thighs. “Y/n did everything perfectly, it’s not her fault if customers don’t respect anything, not even themselves!”

“Dean, I think you're new here,” the boss replied with a calmness that didn't mean anything good. Y/n tried to draw Dean's attention to her to signal him to shut up, that it was nothing, that she could survive a week suspended, but the young man paid her no mind. And one look at his face showed her the same anger she had seen in him the previous evening, when he had decided to defend himself against the customer. “I watched the surveillance cameras carefully. Your reactions with this client, although undoubtedly intended to be heroic, were completely unacceptable. The next time you make a mistake, you will suffer the same fate as Y/n. For now, take your day, see you on Monday, Dean.”

"That's all?!" This time, Dean stood up as he spoke. “Y/n gets suspended, and I only get a warning and a day off? What the f-”

“Thank you,” Y/n quickly cut him off, grabbing his arm firmly to silence him. Strangely, like the day before, her intervention seemed to calm Dean down very quickly. “See you next week.”

As she was about to leave, her hand still holding Dean's wrist to drag him out of the office, a voice called out to her.

"Two weeks. See you in two weeks.”

It took a lot of control for her to say nothing. The inside of her cheek hurt from how hard she bit it, dragging Dean out of the office and then out of the restaurant. It was only once outside, far from prying ears and vulture eyes, that she was finally able to breathe.

“FUCKING BULLSHIT! FUCK YOU!” Suddenly came out of her mouth. If Dean still had any anger at that moment, it suddenly vanished when he heard so many curses coming out with so much anger from the usually calm Y/n. “Oh. It feels better."

Having never seen her like this, it took several seconds for Dean to compose himself. Large green eyes were fixed on her, wide, shocked, even, until a good hit on the arm woke him up completely. "Ouch!" He rubbed his arm as if it hurt even though her fist had barely tickled him.

“What the fuck was that, seriously?! Talk to the boss like that? You’re born stupid or you’re just too dumb to think, fuck, Dean!”

Still as surprised and shocked, Dean didn't respond immediately. Y/n was angry. More, even. Beyond pissed. Which was completely normal under the circumstances, except Y/n wasn't normally angry. She could get upset, complain about the system, the management, the customers, or how she was the only one doing all the little things that made the café special and comfortable, but she was never angry.

“I couldn’t let him talk to you that way, I just couldn’t,” Dean explained calmly. It was quite rare for him to be the calm one in a heated argument. But in this case, he knew he had to keep his own rage to himself, she didn't need more anger. She needed to speak, to expel this emotion out of her like a demon that needed to be exorcized.

“Well, that was fucking stupid,” she pointed at him, her gaze meeting his. This surprised him again. Y/n was shy, although she was a good leader, and he noticed she had trouble looking people in the eye for several seconds. She always ended up looking away, and he knew it wasn't because she was dishonest, but rather that she was afraid of the judgment in the eyes of others. So that she was yelling at him while staring right at him… That surprised Dean again and made him speechless.

For a few seconds, he forgot that he was being told off by a girl for defending her, and lost himself in the contemplation of her magnificent orbs. Since he had known her, he had never really seen them, or bothered to look at them.

And her eyes were beautiful, even filled with anger.

Probably noticing the eye contact was getting considerably long, Y/n finally broke the almost trance-like effect to gaze elsewhere.

“Have you had it long?”

She was still not looking at him. "What?"

“The uncontrollable need to save the damsel in distress.” The corner of her lips lifted up in a smirk.

“I-” He couldn’t tell her that this was actually his life. Saving the woman and the orphan, killing the monsters, it was so ingrained in his life that it was part of him.

“Come on,” she muttered, still not meeting his gaze, gesturing to him to follow her.

"Come on… Where?" It was the longest conversation he'd had with her, and it was only because she was angry, he remembered. He was here for a hunt, he had to learn more about the people of the town. Concentration and focus were required, but yet... This side of Y/n, her confidence, how she wasn't afraid to yell at him like that, when she was normally so gentle...

He liked that side of her. Not that he disliked the rest, it was just-

“I think you have tonight off, and I, well, the next two weeks.” Starting to walk towards the impala, she then stopped and turned her head just enough to look over her shoulder at him. “I’m going to help you rediscover your manhood. Do you have any idea where you could have lost it?”

A big smile stretched Dean's lips. This was the Y/n he knew. “Probably over there,” he pointed to the horizon. “Near the pizzeria. You hungry?”

The pizza was the most delicious thing that had passed Y/n's lips in a long time. Very greasy and dripping with cheese, the junk food was simply good after such a catastrophic day. And sharing this moment with his colleague, accomplice, even, and perhaps friend- if he wanted to- was the icing on the cake.

Her heart always beat a beat and a half faster when he was near her. And although she tried not to like him, not to get attached to what was clearly a bad boy who preferred girls like Kristina, who just hung out with her because he had free time… She simply couldn't deny it anymore. What her heart desired was starting to win over what reason screamed at her.

Don't fall in love.

And yet, as that evening at the pizzeria after her suspension turned into an almost daily routine, her heart prevailed. The crush she immediately had for the young man with emerald eyes and cheeks covered in a milky way of little freckles was slowly transforming into something deeper.

A week had passed since her suspension, it was Saturday again, and as usual, Y/n and Dean found themselves at the pizzeria. The owner himself now came to take their order, even though he already knew what the two wanted since they always ordered the same thing. Everything was going exactly as usual, Dean recounting his day at work, how slowly everything was going downhill without her.

“I worked with a new guy, and son of a bitch, I’ve never seen someone take their time so much. It’s like he did it on purpose,” Dean sipped his drink. Y/n’s gaze followed the movement of the Adam’s apple rising and falling as he swallowed. She was barely concentrating on what he was saying. “We had two complaints that the sandwich bread had mold, but the person in the kitchen didn't get in trouble for it. It’s like the boss knows that no matter the wait time, the quality of the food, or the attitude of the employees, the cafe will always make money since it’s the only one in town,” Dean let out a little laugh which only spread the butterflies in Y/n’s stomach. “Let me tell you that over the past week, some regulars have stopped coming. Oh, and many have asked where you’ve been.”

“It’s not surprising,” she finally answered after a few seconds of silence where only the chewing of Dean devouring his pizza could be heard. On the table, near the windows, the dessert was already there, two slices of pie that the owner had reserved for them knowing they were coming. Her gaze fell on the dessert as she spoke although she really wanted to look him in the eyes. Admiring the perfect color of his orbs, admiring how everything was perfect about him. It was so difficult. “What’s surprising is that the health inspection hasn’t closed this place yet.”

These words hung in the air for a moment, accompanied by silence. Finally glancing over at Dean, she found that he had stopped eating mid-bite, staring blankly at her. It was almost as if Y/n could see the gears moving in his mind.

“Yet.” That was all he said next, taking the time to finish his bite before continuing. "I have an idea."

“I could figure that much,” she laughed as she took her drink, anything to occupy her hands and look normal in his presence. Luckily he couldn't hear her heart thumping against her ribcage.

“We're going to avenge you,” he pointed ahead, at her, and that was enough for her eyes to move from his finger to his eyes. She managed to hold his gaze for several long seconds which seemed to her like hours of torture. "You'll see."

"See what? Oh, how cute,” a voice broke the bubble Y/n and Dean were in. She hadn't heard that voice in a week, and it had been the best thing her suspension had given her, except for all the time she'd spent with Dean since.

“Kristina,” Y/n muttered under her breath, her eyes immediately going to her pizza. A weight seemed to settle on her chest, pressing down hard with its gigantic pressure.

“Hey,” Dean greeted her, and the pressure thumped harder against her heart. “How you doing, Kristina?”

His tone was kind. Friendly. Sweet. Just like he was with Y/n. But with a bonus, he was flirty.

Obviously.

She was not special.

“Oh, I'm doing well, much better,” she laughed. “Especially since Y/n isn’t at the café anymore. No one is ordering us around anymore, right, Dean?”

Out of the corner of her eye, Y/n could see movement. Raising her head just enough to have her in her sight without looking directly at her, she could see her hand on Dean's shoulder. Besides, she wasn't alone. Two other girls from the cafe were standing with her. Without looking at them, Y/n knew. She felt their gaze on her, burning, like vultures around prey.

“I actually liked working with Y/n,” Dean replied as calmly as ever. His words created a spark of hope in Y/n who this time looked directly at Dean. “It’s not as fun without her,” he continued.

“Oh,” Kristina laughed, and her two henchmen followed suit. “I know you want to stay in her good graces by saying all this,” she leaned towards him to whisper in his ear, but made no effort to lower her voice. “But you don’t need to. I think she's going to get fired. The customer came back to file a complaint against her.”

"What?" Dean leaned back slightly to get a better look at Kristina. Now he had his face so close to hers that only one movement was necessary to kiss her. And he had a perfect view into her cleavage. “But…” He turned his head towards the girl sitting in front of him, obviously not understanding why she was being fired and not him.

“You don’t have to lick her boots anymore,” Kristina put a hand on her hip. “I know she’s in love with you, but at this point, it’s pity, right? Spending time with her… Poor little thing. No friends. No boyfriend. Only feelings for those who don’t love her. Just like last time, always falling for the new guy.”

Her face was burning. Y/n was seething, with anger, with sadness, with humiliation. And the worst, the worst was Dean's expression. His gaze, which he constantly fixed on her, seeking to meet her gaze, wanting so much for her to grant him one look, was now stuck in emptiness. And a look of pure confusion made him frown.

Dean refused to look at her anymore.

It was too much.

“Ew, friends to friends,” Kristina added, as if the stabs she had already thrown didn’t hurt enough already. “Ew.”

Standing abruptly, Y/n slammed her hands on the table. Head bowed, her hair cascaded in front of her face, trying as best as they could to hide the tears that welled up in her eyes and inevitably rolled down her cheeks. A ton of insults raced through her mind, but they all got stuck in her throat with this lump growing and growing, until finally, the tears flowed.

One.

Two.

One fell silently onto the table. The other, on her plate, right next to the barely eaten slice of pizza.

Before the third tear fell, Y/n was already out of the restaurant and walking as quickly as she could towards her house. The tears continued to flow without her being able to stop them, but she remained silent. If she could control one thing tonight, it would be her voice. No sound would come out of her mouth until she was alone, at home, in her bed. Only there, she would let herself scream all this pain into her pillow.

No one tried to catch her.

“Good news,” Sam announced before his brother had even closed the door. “Get this. There was no monster from the beginning. It was actually kids who created the whole thing to attract attention. You don’t have to play barista anymore.”

"Oh."

Looking up from his laptop, Sam fixed his gaze on Dean. The door closed slowly and he took off his coat just as slowly and placed it on his bed. The motel was shabby, like all the others, and usually, Dean would never place his precious leather coat on those blankets which he called "the most disgusting object the universe has known." He'd cleaned the covers several times to be sure, but the comforter had kept this unnatural color, so he still didn't trust it.

“Dean.”

“I'm going to take a shower,” his brother grumbled as he headed towards the bathroom, completely ignoring what Sam had just said.

“Okay, but-” the door slammed. “Okay.”

Sam waited for Dean to finish his shower for almost an hour. The only reason Dean Winchester would take such a long shower would be the fantastic water pressure, but having used this bathroom for over 3 weeks, Sam knew that really wasn't the case.

Finally, Dean came out.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Sam closed his laptop to put his full attention on his brother. The latter sat at the end of his bed, dressed with fresh clothes, his towel on his shoulder to catch the droplets falling from his hair.

“Have you ever dreamed of a normal life?” Dean answered his question with another question. At this, Sam rolled his eyes.

“I had a normal life before, remember? Before you picked me up to find Dad?”

Dean made a sound that was a mix of a sigh of guilt and a grunt of frustration, probably directed at himself. "I know but…"

“I can't believe it,” Sam stood up at the revelation. “You like working there.”

“Nah,” Dean slapped the air like he was chasing away the stupid idea. “Actually, yeah, but not anymore. Working in customer service is horrible.”

“I feel like there's a but,” Sam went to sit next to his brother on the bed.

“But,” Dean took a deep breath. "There is a girl."

Sam sighed. Obviously it was about a girl. “Have you slept with her yet? Because if you want to stay here for a one night stand, I swear-”

“She’s in love with me.”

Sam turned his whole body towards his brother, his eyes wide. "Oh."

"Oh."

“Do you like her back?”

At this question, Dean's face disappeared under his large hands. “I don’t know,” his voice sounded muffled by his palms.

“What do you mean you don’t know?”

"I don't know!" Dean exclaimed, removing his hands at the same time. It was his turn to avoid looking at someone, staring at the void instead. “I don’t know what it is to love. How to love. If it’s love. It was never explained to me, you know, it wasn’t dad who would tell me how to know if I love someone.”

A silence followed his words, but not for long.

“With Jess…” Sam began slowly, as if the words he was about to say were poisonous snakes that could bite him at any moment. “It was simple. I felt good with her. She felt good with me. And together, we were good.”

“Okay,” Dean listened intently, as if the answers he was looking for were on his brother's lips.

“Do you like spending time with her?” He then asked.

Dean didn't even think for a second. "Oh yeah."

“When you're not with her, what do you do? You think about her, right?”

This time, Dean took a moment before answering. “Well, I worked at the cafe, so obviously I was thinking about her, since she wasn’t there but she used to. And then, when I finished work, I would go see her and we would order food or go to the pizzeria.”

“Okay, and then?”

"And then what?" Dean finally looked his brother in the eye. He still had questions, still doubts, confusion, but that was completely normal. A soft, understanding smile stretched Sam's lips.

“What are you thinking about right now?”

“Oh, how I want to punch that shitty boss in the face,” Dean clenched his fist to mimic his words. “I never hit women, but that girl, Kristina, humiliated Y/n terribly earlier. And I reacted too late, she was gone and-”

He stopped speaking suddenly, as if enlightenment had finally reached his mind.

"And?"

“I have to join Y/n, apologize, I-”

“Dean.”

Stopping just as he was getting up and putting his coat back on, the green eyed man turned to his brother.

“If you're in love, I can't tell you, Dean. But I can confirm that you like her. But for tonight, let her breathe, these feelings are new for the both of you.”

At these words, Dean collapsed on the bed. “Oh, you’re probably right. I don't want to rush her, you know, she's so shy, but at the same time, so... Fierce. She's the perfect balance of sweet and spicy. And I let her down.”

To that, Sam didn't know what to answer. He knew that feeling, the one of having abandoned the person you love. That's how he felt ever since he lost Jess.

“I'm sure you'll figure out how to make amends,” Sam placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Actually… I think I already know,” Dean turned his head towards him, green eyes meeting amber ones. Green eyes sparkling with a new resolution, probably very wicked. “And you, my dear brother, will be able to help me.”

Turned out, losing another employee during the busiest time of the year was a sufficient reason to terminate a suspension preemptively. And although, clearly, this did not seem to make certain employees happy and even less the boss who hated coming back on his decisions, Y/n was able to return to work after barely a week of forced leave. And also, strangely, the customer’s complaint seemed to have vanished from existence. Or maybe it was another lie that Kristina came up with to hurt Y/n.

And what a surprise when she arrived and saw the place.

It was depressing. Everything was messy and upside down, unopened boxes that needed to be refrigerated were lying around everywhere, and other products that needed to stay at room temperature, like syrups, ended up in the freezer. No rotation had been made, and it was with sadness that she had to note all the food they lost and throw everything away. It took her a long time, long enough for someone she despised to come and tell her how to do her job.

"What are you doing? Customers are waiting! Have you forgotten how to work?”

After making this more than derogatory comment, Kristina returned to her favorite position, the one that required the least effort.

Her heart was heavy. Filled and at the same time, empty. Since the last time with Dean at the pizzeria, she hadn't received any news. No call. No text. No, her heart wasn't big with heaviness, it was broken. Split. And now that she had returned to the café, she learned he no longer worked there.

Good for him, she thought as she put away one last box before heading towards the front of the café to deal with the customers. At least he was out of this hell. It was maybe better that way.

“Sorry for the wait, what can I get you?” The usual words were so ingrained in her that they came out of her mouth as soon as she was behind the cash register, without even looking at the customer.

“I would like you to give me the chance to talk to you,” a familiar voice said in front of her. That voice, low, hoarse, and so perfect. She had started to get used to hearing it almost every day. But this time, it forged yet another crack on her heart.

“Dean,” even saying his name was painful. The pain of a lost friendship and crushed hope. The pain of a humiliated moment, a bad memory where he had sat there in silence while she was being crushed as an inactive witness.

“Y/n. There’s no word to express how sorry I am for-”

An apology, of course, wasn't exactly what she wanted, but it was more than she had expected. He was there, in the flesh, in front of her. So, for once and although it was difficult because looking at him would hurt her even more, Y/n raised her head and stared into his sad gaze. Ready and open to hear what he had to say.

There was a sadness almost identical to her own in his beautiful green eyes. Guilt, regrets, he seemed sincere-

“Dean! I thought you had left the ship,” Kristina suddenly entered Y/n’s bubble, who didn’t waste a moment to move to the side. It wasn't unknown that Y/n didn't like being touched or having someone in her bubble, and Kristina knew it, so she did it on purpose. All the time.

“Excuse me, but I was talking with Y/n,” Dean replied in a neutral voice, almost annoyed, even.

“Oh, sure, you want to feel better about last time, but you don't have to,” Kristina continued, crossing her arms over her large chest.

Dean rolled his eyes and shifted his attention to Y/n. “I’m serious, Y/n. Come with me, I need to talk to you. And they don’t deserve you.”

Y/n's mouth opened, then closed, tears welling up in her eyes at an uncontrollable speed.

“Seriously, Dean, don’t you see how pathe-”

“Kristina, shut the fuck up. You’re bothering us.”

This really didn't please the girl who made an offended sound, threw an unimportant insult, and left without another word.

Once finally alone again, Dean was ready. Ready to tell the beautiful barista in front of him everything that was on his heart, even if he didn't really know exactly what it was himself. He had some in the past, girlfriends, one night stands, crushes on the most beautiful and popular girls in school, but that wasn't the same thing. He felt an attachment to Y/n, a different feeling that he couldn't describe. If it was love, he didn't know. But he knew he didn't want to lose her.

“It's a little too late to come to my defense,” her voice said instead of his. Taken by surprise, Dean's mouth opened then closed, like a fish looking flabbergasted. “Although I really enjoyed seeing someone tell her to fuck off for once,” the shadow of a smile drew on her face for a second, but quickly faded away. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have a lot of work-”

“Wait,” Dean found his voice just in time.

“I don’t have time, Dean,” Y/n turned her back on him, giving him one last eye contact above her shoulder. Her eyes were filled with sadness and seeing her like that physically hurt him.

“On the contrary,” Dean insisted, a smile tugging at his lips as he knew the plan was going like clockwork. “You will soon have plenty of time.”

Seeing the obvious confusion spread across her face, Dean jerked his head towards the boss's office. This caught the attention of not only Y/n but also the other employees, because at the same time, voices were heard coming from that direction. Loud voices, displeased, and then the door opened.

“I am very disappointed with the state of this place. It's deplorable. I’m afraid I won't change my mind, the café is going to close.”

“Wait,” the boss looked tiny behind the person who had just spoken. Like the weight of reality was finally falling on his shoulders. Stomping him to the ground like a pest, just how he had always treated his employees. "You can’t, you don’t have the right!"

“I have all the rights, I am a health inspector, and this place is completely unsanitary.”

Witnessing the whole scene in the front row, like she was in the cinema, Y/n was jubilant. Finally. Finally this place was recognized as being good for trash. Finally, the boss got what he deserved. Finally, things seemed to come full circle and it was all over.

The health inspector subsequently introduced himself to the employees. He looked very young for this job, early twenties, probably, long hair parted in the middle of his forehead and hazel eyes, but regardless, he had done his job properly so Y/n didn’t care about the details.

“This place is going to close. But don't worry, you are entitled to unemployment compensation. Time to find something better for you,” the inspector finished his speech with a wink. If Y/n wasn't so excited by the idea of being rid of this miserable job, she would have been sure that the wink was aimed at her personally.

A laugh brought her attention back to Dean who was still in front of her. As the health inspector informed the customers present of the situation and put a note in the door to say the café was permanently closed, Dean was giggling.

“You did this,” Y/n finally understood.

“Told you we would get you revenge. Now, can you please come with me and listen to me? I need to talk to you.”

“After what you did for me, lunch is on me,” Y/n laughed as well, took off her apron which she threw behind her, and left the café without a glance behind her.

“Listen. So uhm, how can I say this, so uhm… God, I’m so bad at chick flicks and emotional stuff.”

The two had been sitting at the pizzeria for about an hour and a half pizzas. The same place as usual, with the same order, but this time everything was different. It was not simply out of friendship that they came to share a meal, there was more. Hidden feelings, others clearly visible but which had not yet been addressed, and frustration mixed with regrets.

Dean had been trying for two slices of pizza now to say something, but would immediately turn red the moment he tried to open up emotionally. And Y/n couldn't even blame him, seeing the efforts he made for her, what he did at the cafe, for her, and now he was trying so hard to explain and make it up to her… He could say absolutely nothing and she would be satisfied.

“Take your time,” Y/n mentioned between mouthfuls, leaving all her attention on the young man in front of her who still made her heart beat so quickly. Of course, he had made mistakes, and to forgive him just because he had the best revenge for her was pretty stupid, but oh well. Love makes you stupid, right? “It’s not like someone is waiting for me.”

“It’s just,” Dean sighed and ran his hands over his face. Y/n's gaze stayed on the ring on his finger, a ring she had already noticed before. “Not easy to say this. I mean, not to you, but like, talking about my stuff like this. But there’s one thing I know I have to say, and here it is,” he finally seemed to find his bearings, beautiful green eyes anchoring into hers, his red cheeks creating a nice color contrast. "I'm sorry. Sorry for not saying anything when Kristina was there being a bitch. I guess I was taken up by surprise with what she said, but that’s no excuse.”

“Dean, it’s fine,” Y/n shook her head and closed her eyes briefly. When she opened them again, she knew exactly what she wanted to say to him. She took a big breath, words and sentences forming quickly in her mind. And it all came out of her mouth as quickly. “I am not ashamed to like you. Not at all. Because you are nice. Pretty. Hella sexy. And I feel comfortable whenever I’m with you. And I like spending time with you, and always wanna spend more. I won’t be ashamed to think all those things about you, because they are true, and they only make you a better person.” Pausing her words, Y/n forced herself to keep her gaze on Dean's again. She noticed that since those words had come out of her mouth, it was easier to hold his gaze. “You don’t have to have the same feelings, I understand. You don’t have to reciprocate or answer my confession, I can already see how bad it is for you to express feelings,” she laughed briefly at his scowling expression. “What I’m trying to say is… Yes. I like you a lot. And if you only like me as a friend, well, I’ll take that. It might hurt, but it would hurt more to not have you around anymore.”

Phew. It was hard to say, but once everything was out, Y/n felt better, lighter even. A heavy weight was finally leaving her heart, but there was still a little left. That was pressing. And tightening with the question… What will his answer be?

Dean took a brief moment to think before answering. Everything had gone silent, neither of them were eating, and both were probably holding their breaths.

“I've only known you for a short time,” Dean finally broke the silence, and the breath left Y/n's lungs which burned as it passed. She could feel the “but” coming. “But…” And there you go. “I really appreciate your company. A lot. I don’t know if it’s the same thing you feel, or if it’s love, but for the first time in a long, long time, I don’t want to leave this town. And I want to continue spending time with you.” Hope was reborn in Y/n, a wave of indescribable emotions suddenly invading her. “I'm going to have to leave, eventually, for work, but... I really want to take a break and try. I don’t know if I can do it, have a normal life, be with you, and just quit my job, so… I can’t promise you anything. I will probably leave eventually, I have so much stuff to do and…”

“You know,” Y/n continued when she saw him struggling with his words, hope now so strong in her body that she was almost vibrating. It wasn't a confession of love, but it was even better. This attachment Dean felt for her was worth even more than any cheesy love confession from the romantic movies or books she loved to delve into. “I no longer really have any ties to this city. No more jobs. If… We realize that things are working between us, and that you need to leave, nothing stops me from coming with you.” Realizing that it was probably too direct since they weren't even together, Y/n quickly adjusted her mind. “But those are just random ifs and thoughts,” she hurriedly took a bite of her pizza, just to make her stop talking.

“Y/n,” raising her head, she looked back at Dean. The latter had a big smile on his face and shook his head, clearly amused by her words. “If I told you what I did for work, you would never believe me. And when you”ll see it with your eyes and will be forced to believe me, you’re going to want to run away from me.”

“You’re a secret agent then?” Y/n hurriedly said, her mouth still full of pizza, her eyes wide. “Wow. Impressive.” She laughed, and Dean nervously laughed with her. If only it was that, it would be so much easier. “It really reminds me of my uncle.”

“Your uncle was a secret agent?” Dean asked, amused by the change of subject and how she was easily taking everything he said to her.

She was really the right one. Maybe she wouldn't run away after all.

“No, actually. When I was young, I often spent time at his house, but my parents stopped visiting him. They said he had lost his mind. But I loved these stories of ghosts and werewolves, he always told me he hunted them, saving people, like a secret agent of the supernatural,” a big smile stretched her lips at this thought, past memories flooding back into her head. It was so long ago, but she kept good memories of her uncle. Expecting the same reaction from Dean, Y/n only met a shocked face, frozen in a position that didn't suit him at all. Eyes wide, mouth parted, his skin white like he actually saw a ghost. She waved her hand in front of his face. “Earth to Dean?”

“Y/n, what’s your last name again?”

Taken aback by the sudden question, she blinked once and then twice. “Uhm, I don’t think I’ve ever told you. It’s Singer, why?”

A long silence answered her questions and her face dropped a little bit. Why did it matter?

“Your uncle… What's his name?”

“Dean, I haven’t seen my uncle in almost 15 years you know-”

“Y/n.”

“Robert. It’s Robert. But I always called him…”

“Bobby.”

It was her turn to have her eyes widen. “Yeah…?”

“I think you and I have more in common than I thought. And you really need to meet my brother,” he immediately stood up and threw two 20 bills on the table. Standing up in turn, confusion filled her entire expression.

“Dean, that’s way too much for two pizzas- Dean?” But she couldn't add more, and the confusion turned into this small, pleasant flame in the middle of her chest when Dean's hand met hers. “Okay, but you’re going to have to explain it to me because I don’t understand anything.”

“You'll understand,” Dean's smile was indescribable because it was so big. But that smile was hiding something else. Secrets that his beautiful lips had surely sealed away for far too long. “Let’s go,” he walked outside, said goodbye to the restaurant owner, and led her to his car. But once inside, he stopped before starting the engine, frozen yet again as another realization hit him.

“What? Something's wrong?”

“You… uhm… might recognize my brother, actually.”

“Why, was he a customer at the café?” Y/n laughed, fastening her seat belt. This whole thing was so sudden, so random, she just wanted to burst laughing. She felt good even if she didn’t quite understand everything that was happening.

“It was the health inspector,” he finally started the car and backed out of the parking lot and onto the road in one smooth, sexy motion.

“Oh. Wait, he’s a health inspector?”

“Not… Really?”

“Dean.”

Silence.

“Dean, did you fake the inspection?”

“Not really?”

“Dean!”

“Please. I’ll explain everything once we arrive. Do you trust me?”

For a second, Dean took his eyes off the road and looked into hers, and she held the gaze for the entire second and saw nothing but honesty. Then, he turned his head and broke eye contact, but out of the corner of her eye, she could see his right hand raised slightly towards her, waiting to be picked up.

“Yeah,” she finally said, gently placing her hand in his. It was warm. Comfortable. And how he squeezed, tenderly but also firmly, showed worry about losing her. “It might be crazy and stupid, but I trust you, Dean Winchester.”

Forever taglist: @nitnat6245 @eevvvaa @wickedinspirations@fictional-affairs @awkward-and-indecisive @peachyaliien @katbratsupernaturalwhore

Supernatural Tag List: @peachyaliien @sexyvixen7 @stixnstripesworld @charred-angelwings @treat-winchesterswith-kindness @lyarr24 @fiftyshadesgrl @this-is-me19

Dean Winchester Tag List: @akshi8278 @kazsrm67 @wtrpxrks @deanwanddamons @thoughts-and-funnies @charred-angelwings @jensendreamland @deanswaywardgirl @happyt0exist @waynes-multiverse @djs8891 @mimaria420 @this-is-me1 @syrma-sensei

#dean winchester fanfiction #jacklesversebingo23 #hurt comfort bingo #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean winchester x female!reader #dean winchester x f!reader #baby dean winchester #supernatural dean #supernatural dean x f!reader #supernatural dean winchester #supernatural dean winchester x female!reader #fluff #barista!dean #barista!reader

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c-nstantine · 9 months

Note

Clark Kent crush headcanons for his black barista crush? Id love to see him be such a loser around her bc he’s nervous and crushing hard 🫣

Clark Kent orders the same coffee every morning. Is it the best coffee in the world? No. Is it the cheapest? No, not. He comes to the same coffee shop that is in the opposite direction of his job every morning because of the barista.

Now he'd never actively admit that. Bruce practically had to waterboard that information out of him but every morning at about 7:45, he'd walk into the cafe to be greeted by the smell of freshly ground beans. He had grown used to seeing the smile of the barista every morning.

"Iced caramel macchiato with extra cream and extra caramel," Y/N said handing Clark his drink before he even had the chance to say his order.

"Thank you, Y/N," Clark spoke gently as he fiddled with his wallet. Saying her name was the closest that he had gotten to her. He was perfectly fine with this.

"Anything for my most loyal customer," Y/N said with a pretty smile. Her lips were glossed today and Clark took notice of that as he exited the small coffee shop.

"Smallville, if you don't go ask her on a date," Lois Lane said following Clark out of the coffee shop. Sure, Lois and Clark had dated but they didn't work out and that's life sometimes. However, Lois wants the absolute best for Clark and if that happens to be the pretty barista from the overpriced coffee shop, so be it.

"I'm good. I mean we're just now getting on to a name-to-name basis. I have a seven-stage plan. It's very efficient." Clark pushed up his glasses as he talked and gestured with his hands. He had learned a thing or two from Bruce or planning. Of course, this isn't what Bruce meant in the slightest when he told Clark to plan to ask Y/N out.

"Watch this," Lois turned and entered the coffee shop. Clark followed her quietly begging Lois not to do whatever she was about to do.

"Hey, Y/N, right?" Lois asked with a bright smile.

"Mhm," Y/N responded unsure of what was going on but she gave Clark a small wave as she wiped down the counter.

"Clark over here would love to take you on a date. He's been crushing on you for months now," Lois loves to instigate. Instigating and investigating go hand in hand as a reporter, and it always feels like Lois has a doctorate in both.

"Really? I'd love to go out with him, just not for coffee." Y/N said while peeking around Lois to see Clark.

"Yeah, of course, 'cause you work in a coffee shop. That makes sense. Here's my number," Clark said fumbling out his business card that he had scribbled his number onto. It was a part of step five of the original plan before Lois had intervened.

"I'll text you!"

#clark kent x black reader #x black!reader #black!reader #x black reader #clark kent x black!reader #clark kent x reader #barista!reader #himbo clark kent #c-nstantine

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aclowntiny · 10 months

Text

Puppy Love- Yunho x Female!Barista!Reader

I haven't forgotten about all my coffee shop stories 😁😁😁 Yunho in his ‘you like jazz?’ era

Word Count: 3536 | Coffee Shop, Fluff | Warnings: too dang fluffy 😝

Yunho’s dream had finally come true. A dog café had opened up within walking distance of work. What a time to be alive! What a lucky walk of the streets on his break, unsure how to spend his rare free time once he had it. Using it for an activity seemed simultaneously gratifying and overwhelming. Time to burn some energy off with some very good boys and girls instead! Some caffeine might also reverse-jitter him back into productivity…or at least into the right headspace to squeeze in an episode of that show he needed to finish.

Beneath an awning of striped lime green and white awaited the door to Leash Love Latte, the lovely windowed building decorated with paint-on art of joyous pups of all breeds, two of which held mugs and one of which was about to devour a bone-topped cupcake. Yunho couldn't help but smile as his eyes scanned the glass, jumping a bit at the noise when he opened the door, but the startlement easily fell into a laugh as he opened the security door once the front one was closed and was met with a barrage of dogs.

"Oh, hi," he giggled as one little papillon practically climbed up his leg, bending down to scoop her up into his arms. Flipping her collar tag, he saw it read 눈. A name meaning Snow made sense- she was a ball of pure white fluff after all.

Carrying her up to the counter, Yunho was met with the sight of an extremely nimble barista practically skating across the café floor to slide a pastry onto the counter and call out its owner’s name, then turn on her heels to catch a drink from the older man who held it out to her and repeat the process. Once that was done, she twirled around to face the counter.

“Sorry about that, just had an order to finish up,” she paused, taking a couple breaths and getting her hair back into place, smile never leaving her face, “oh, Nunie, are you making friends?” Her gaze had dropped to the sweet pup in Yunho’s arms, the nickname and her evident familiarity with the café dogs warming his heart.

“Yep," he agreed with a chuckle, holding her up a bit higher with fatherly pride despite their very recent meeting, "I think she'd have made a ladder of me if she could."

"Well, you are pretty tall," the girl joked.

"I guess that's true! So, what do you recommend here?"

She grinned. "Dog or drink?"

"Drink," Yunho responded, "I don't think I'll get away with any cheating today."

"How does a peanut butter mocha sound?"

"Great," he replied, "I've never had one before!"

Plucking a solid pink, paw-print-dotted mug from some unseen counter alcove, the barista grinned. "It's sort of my specialty."

"She's always trying to hock those!" The older man called out from deeper in the kitchen, offering a devilish grin.

"Hey! At least I have a specialty!" She called back, smiling when he shouted that she was a better barista than him and sliding the mug down the slick metal counter surface before turning back to Yunho. "Sorry, that's my uncle. He's a bit of a jokester. Your name?”

"Yunho. And that's ok. I can see how well you guys get along. So this is a family business, then?"

"Yep," she nodded, "everything I do, I try to do with my family."

Something about those simple words touched Yunho's heart, throwing its beat off even as he lowered himself into a bench, stroking his snowy new friend and laughing as a brown and white Jack Russel terrier and a little grey mutt with a folded ear scrambled up to fill his lap all the way. His gaze darted between them and the young lady behind the counter as she operated all the kitchenware with focused eyes and lightly smiling lips.

This place really was heaven.

"Here you go!"

Yunho's attention snapped up from the mutt, Sammy, to meet the eyes of the girl. He hadn't really paid attention to the color of them before, but the lime-and-pink shaded light dangling above his table must have somehow brought it out as she set his mug in front of him a respectable distance from the squirming dogs piled upon his lap.

"What was your name again?" Yunho blurted out before he could help it.

"(y/n)."

"(y/n)," he repeated with a smile, "wonderful. I just felt like I needed to have a name to go with the face."

Her eyes remained on him, though the smile on her face did not fade. Sammy licked at her sleeve, which only made it grow wider, her nose crinkling a bit. A wave of awkwardness crashed over Yunho.

"So, (y/n), you must really like peanut butter." That sounded much better in his head.

She just giggled. “I love it! I was eating a peanut butter cup when I got the idea for the drink.”

“That’s so cool! I have a friend who cooks and that seems hard, let alone designing something new, like I can’t even imagine.”

(y/n) waved a hand before reaching it back down to pet a fluffy spotted Australian shepherd that ran by her feet. “Oh, I bet you could come up with something,” she told him with a smile.

Yunho racked his brain, but beneath the tantalizing chocolate-peanut-butter-coffee-with-a-hint-of-espresso smell, the light of that obnoxiously cute lamp, the warm, wiggling puppy pile on his lap, and the faint, anticipatory flutter of the girl’s eyelashes, not much was floating up coherently. “I can’t think of anything that would be good in coffee,” he finally admitted.

“What about something that would be bad in coffee?”

“All my brain was giving me was fruit loops, so I’d say that.”

(y/n) gave a humored wince. “Ooh, yeah. Though that would make a good milk latte or shake! I could totally work with that!” And with that, she made another of her skate-like drifts across the shop, dodging three dogs darting at her feet as she fell back behind the counter, pulling out a couple appliances and taking notes like a mad scientist.

Well, that wasn’t too bad a response to fruit loops of all things. Patting Sammy, Yunho pulled his steaming mug to his lips, barely feeling the cup’s heat above that in his own sheepish cheeks.

A few days after his Leash Love Latte trip, Yunho was out for a walk to clear his head after a very early morning of choreography practice, having rinsed himself off and wanted nothing more than to get out into the sun and breeze, practically melting the industrial lighting out of his skin. Cleansing the sweat off had only been step one.

Veering off the paved walking trail, Yunho crossed over the inclination of a grassy green hill, wandering over the great emerald expanse and dodging the occasional frisbee. Ducking under one that was thrown high enough, even.

The small amount of skin exposed by his t-shirt warmed pleasantly in the moderate day's air as he passed an area surrounded by metal gating that bore a few tied-on signs. Within it, dogs of varying sizes tore across the grass, played tug-of-war, and ran to their owners with new friends in tow. As he got closer, he noticed that one of those owners had a haircut that looked quite familiar, a smile Yunho felt like he’d just been graced with.

It was (y/n)! Carefully undoing the safety gate with a deft motion of his fingers, he lifted the release and entered, immediately dodging dogs as he ran a hand through his hair hoping he’d straightened it. His other hand was already getting thoroughly sniffed, a few licks coming to it before he reclaimed it, giving a bulldog and a border collie some pats as he milled through the park. A mutt- maybe half terrier- ran up to him snuffling with a squeaky toy in its jaws, so Yunho threw it, laughing as it turned into a little spotted streak of lightning. Hopefully its owner was young. And then, turning on his heels, he faced you.

“Oh, hey, (y/n), right?” He leaned forward, resting a hand as casually as he could atop the bench a few feet from him, mock-guessing your name like it hadn’t made a few runs through his head of late. “Didn’t see you there. I’m-”

“Yunho from the café. Fruit loops guy.”

Fruit loops guy. “Yep, that’s me.” He put a hand to his chest. “Fruit loops guy.”

“I’ve been tinkering around with stuff and that idea is something that we might be adding to the menu if my uncle lets me!” She added, grinning as a pup Yunho recognized as Sammy ran up to her, leaning into her offered pets.

“Really? That’s great!”

“Yeah! Should I name it after you?”

“The Yunho? Might confuse some people-”

(y/n) chuckled, wrapping her arms around Sammy to pull him onto her lap. “Yunho, I was kidding.”

“Oh, right, yeah, I knew that. So, uh, taking Sammy to the dog park?”

“Yep,” she nodded, smiling, “I try to take all the adoptables out on an alternating schedule.”

“Oh,” Yunho tilted his head in thought, “the Leash Love Latte dogs are for adoption?”

“Indeed they are. The goal is people live them so much they want to take them home!”

“Guess then they’d really need a doggy bag,” he quipped.

(y/n)’s eyes widened as she burst out with a laugh. “Ok, that’s so perfect, mind if I steal that?”

“Be my guest.”

“I’ll try my best to credit you where I can. Hey, wanna play frisbee with Sammy? It’s practically as big as him, but he loves it.”

Was there even a question? “Of course! Come on, Sammy, let’s go!”

And with that, they both pushed off their respective bench seat and lean, jogging deeper into the park’s grass and dodging a fire hydrant in the ground as they took turns tossing the blue plastic disc (y/n) had ready in her backpack.

“Hey, remember the guy who inspired my fruit loops latte?” You called back into the kitchen as you refilled the coffee bean jars up front, dim evening lights of closing time filing Leash Love Latte.

“Tall fellow, right?” You uncle questioned in response.

"Yeah," you nodded, "him. If he comes back, I'm going to get him in the kitchen."

"In the kitchen?" Your uncle's voice raised both in incredulity and response to some barks from your café companions. "I thought you liked him."

"Oh, geez!" Plucking a not-so-wet grey washcloth from your counter, you lobbed it at your uncle and his jokes. "I do. You think I'd let any loser with a dazzling smile into my laboratory?"

The washcloth connected with your uncle's shoulder, breaking his face into a grin as he shook it into his hand and started wiping the kitchen surface with it. "Ugh, save the sappy crap for him, huh? What are you even going to make him do? A day of free labor?"

"No," you giggled, leaning on the shining metal of your counterspace, "I think he has better ideas than he gives himself credit for. I'm just going to let him try making whatever he wants."

"As long as you guys clean up after yourselves," your uncle teases you, giving you a fond smile.

"Of course we will," you reply with a joyous look of your own, anticipation coursing through you as you imagined all the things you could come up with on your quest for a new menu item...and maybe something else new for you.

"Get in the kitchen with you? Me?" Yunho looked at you with eyes wide, holding little Nun a bit tighter in his hands in startlement as if you'd suggested he set his pants on fire.

"Well, I wasn't exactly asking your invisible twin brother there," you teased, clicking the pen in your hand open, then closed again, as you glanced over his shoulder.

He turned his head that way too like there'd suddenly be someone there. There obviously was not. "Alright, point taken. You liked the cereal lattes that much, huh?"

That wasn't what I liked most, you wanted to say. You leaned a bit further out from behind the register. "Something like that. I think it would be fun! Don't you? We don't have to make something good, that'll just be a bonus!"

Yunho's smile returned as yours spread out, and he bent over and gently placed the little fluffball he'd been holding back on the floor, where she stood at his feet, sniffing Cherry, a black chihuahua. "I don't think it'll be fun, (y/n)..."

Your expression stiffened a bit, eyebrows raising to urge his trailed-off sentence on.

"I know it will be! Let's do it! As long as you're allowed to do this, of course."

And then you were smiling again, heart beating in anticipation. You were going to get this dog-loving man and his silly innocent brain in your life no matter what it took.

"Cleared with the boss man and all. Let's make something out of this dead workday!"

Yunho laughed at that, accepting the hand you held out, beckoning him into the sacred space behind the counter, aka your drink and treat lab.

"So," you grinned, folding both your hands under your chin, "wanna make a drink or bake something?"

"Why don't we bake?" Yunho replies, gaze breaking from yours in thought. "Hmm, what's a good dessert to go with a drink? Shortcake?"

"Like strawberry shortcake?"

"Yeah, but why is shortcake always strawberry? Why can't it be any other fruit?"

You shrugged, feeling your expression smugly egg him on. "Why can't it? What do you have in mind?"

"Have you ever seen those candied melons? What about melon shortcake? I bet no one's done that before," Yunho answered before pausing for a couple ticks of Leash Love Latte's dangly-tail dog-in-a-teacup wall clock, "or is that gross?"

Crossing further into the kitchen, you pulled open a silver cabinet and turned back to him. "Only one way to find out."

He shuffled into the kitchen beside you, bouncing on his heels. “Do you have a shortcake recipe?”

“I do indeed,” you said with a grin, taking an apron off the peg on the kitchen wall and handing it his way.

You set to work prepping and measuring the wet ingredients while Yunho took on the dry, the most prominent of which was the flour. Shortcake, you reminded him, wasn’t as sweet as a regular cake, so that seemingly small amount of sugar was in fact correct.

It all went nearly without a hitch, only a small chunk of butter plopping onto the silvery counter, which you quickly twirled around to wipe squeaky clean again. Yunho was doing great at sifting everything together, almost as if he’d done it before.

Well, until the last scoop of flour, that is. The last one hung just wrong, dropping from the measuring cup in Yunho’s hand and sliding down the edge of the mesh strainer, bursting in a cloud of curling pure white dust upon the counter, his apron, and even on the side of your pant leg.

"Oh my gosh, (y/n), I'm so sorry!" Yunho immediately exclaimed, holding his hands out like he didn't trust them anymore.

"Don't worry about it," you replied with a smile and a flippant gesture, "it won't be the first or the last time that happens in here. Besides, in Hallmark movies all things like this do is start a cheeky flour fight."

Yunho glanced down helplessly at his apron and the counter. "Wouldn't that just make it worse?"

"Oh, absolutely," you nod, "but if you just twirl it off your apron, you'll get a pretty cloud effect."

Expectation? A little shimmy. Reality? Yunho executing a perfect showman's leaping twirl, the move indeed enhanced by a puff surrounding him as the powder shook off of him and drifted down to the kitchen tile.

You might've been gaping, but it quickly faded into a smile as you drifted past him in search of a rolling pin. "Alright, so you're, like, an expert dancer, that's totally normal and not extremely cool."

"Oh, I'm no expert. I-I just dance for a living," he replied with a shy grin and darting gaze.

"I hate to break this to you," you leaned on the counter in front of him, rolling pin in hand and awe on your face, "but that makes you an expert. Certainly more than me. You should be there one of the many times I forget a step of the macarena."

Yunho's hands started drifting around in the general airspace above his shoulders, head, and hips. "Which part?"

All you could do was giggle and hold the rolling pin up in your hand, head shaking. "Have you ever kneaded and rolled dough before?" He had good dough hands. Certainly more proportional to the dough than yours!

"We did it, (y/n)! We made shortcake!" Practically floating above the tile, Yunho high-fived you after you set the tray down.

While your creation baked, the two of you had ditched your aprons and crossed the threshold back into adoptable territory to absolutely ruin all your kitchen-sanitary hands on the hurricane of dogs that surged after you, leaping into your arms like the sweetest of crests crashing onto your jean-clad knees.

This time you took Nun and Yunho had Mickey the Australian shepherd, who plopped right down on the café tile with his head in Yunho's now-seated lap. You held your fluffy ball of wonder close to your chest and she practically melted in, little black boba eyes fluttering contentedly shut.

Both of you whined how it was torture and apologized to the dogs as if it was a coordinated act as you waved and backed into the kitchen with four remorseful eyes on the adoptable crowd, and that was how the shortcake was procured.

Candying the watermelon went off without a hitch. Well, mostly. While a welcome strength boost to cut the honeydews, Yunho had you half giggling, half protectively extending an arm as he yelped at the bubbling sugar boiling in the pot. For that, you bid him mix the cream while you got the fruit ready.

More time with the adoptables as the candy set, and then you were stacking cake, cream, and shining, syrupy melon chunks into a light yellow-and-green treat topped with some melon balls and classic rosettes.

"It's beautiful," you congratulated Yunho with a wide smile.

"Better than the fruit loop latte idea?"

You just nodded as the sound of your business's door closing rang our behind you. "And here's our proof coming!" You clapped, rushing out of the kitchen in the bouncing dance of a barista on a mission. "Uncle, will you try our dessert please? Yunho and I worked really hard on it," you plead as you dragged your amused uncle into your workspace, one arm linked with his and the other gesturing with a flourish toward the lovely shortcake and your lovely fellow baker, who immediately bent his legs and struck an introductory pose at it himself.

"I can tell. This looks great, you two," your uncle told you, pride clear in his voice as much as on his face as he ruffled your hair with his free hand.

Wiggling gently out of your grip, he accepted the proffered fork from Yunho and reached over to dig into the plated treat you'd decorated on the counter, which of course you'd wiped down before he could see the mess you made. Didn't hurt to butter up the person trying your new innovation, right?

Your uncle's eyebrows shot up the moment the forkful of your shortcake entered his mouth, both you and Yunho leaping up as if watching the pinnacle of a photo-finish race.

"Well, how is it?" You burst out, practically wiggling under the suspense.

"Yes, sir," Yunho added, straightening the apron he'd put back on, "is it good enough to go on the menu?"

"It's very good, son," your uncle began, eliciting a loud cheer from you two and a resonant, stingingly strong high-five of elation to boot.

"But," he added, both of you inhaling at his next words, eyes not even leaving him when an audible, surely adorable play-wrestle broke out among the adoptables, "if you want this on the menu, there's one condition."

"Wh- what's that? Er, sir?" Yunho stiffened under your uncle's serious gaze.

Short-lived as it was; the expression soon melted into your beloved joker's smile of mischief. "You have to take my niece on a date."

"Uncle, I-" You began to protest, heat rising to your cheeks faster than any oven or milk steamer could preheat.

"Yes, sir," Yunho nodded, sparing you a quick glance and a small wave as if he'd forgotten you were there, "that's a much greater reward than the menu spot."

His smile turned almost into something you'd see on a lovesick cartoon, as if your heart hadn't flipped hard enough in the past few minutes or even from the first time he walked in and you saw him being gentle with the adoptables.

What could you say? Guess it was puppy love.

#ateez #ateez imagines #ateez reactions #ateez x reader #ateez scenarios #yunho #yunho x reader #yunho x female reader #female reader #coffee shop au #fluff #barista!reader

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harveyb-wabbit92 · 2 years

Text

Funny things overheard on the Gear Station’s PA:

[Mature themes mentioned.]

==============================

Ingo: To the lady, *ahem* ...attending to the gentleman in the back of car four, please stop what you’re doing; you’re not being subtl- NO! DON’T SPIT IT OUT, DON’T SPIT IT OU-

{a flustered couple is escorted off the train.]

=======================================

Emmet: Attention everyone, Let’s give a big ol’thank-you to the gentleman in the priority seating, who’s not only refusing to get up for a pregnant woman, but is also refusing to put out his cigarette, and thus delaying the train for everyone else! Give him a big round of applause!

=======================================

Emmet: a reminder to passengers, please don’t shave your legs and or beard on the train, it’s unsafe and verrrry unsanitary....

==================================

Ingo: Attention if you’re going to be a seat hog and put your feet up so no one else can sit down? then you deserve be sat on, that is all...

===================================

Emmet: No motorcycles in the subway, E-mobility scooters are okay, but not motorcycles! Your sick ride will turn the train car into a gas chamber!

======================================

Ingo: please don’t pry the doors open, and jump out because you missed your stop! You are causing a safety hazard to yourself and others.

======================================

Emmet: *accidentally turned on the mic* OH-HO... ARC’S SAKE IS WRONG WITH YOU KIDS THESE DAYS?! SUBWAY SURFIN’? ARE YA ASKING TO MEET ARCEUS?! COS’ THAT’S HOW YA MEET ARCEUS! *kid crying in the background begging him not to tell their mom!*

===================================

Ingo: Please don’t open the emergency window because ‘you were feeling hot.’ it’ll set off the alarms and cause the train to breakdown and ‘being hot’ will be the least of your worries...

===================================

Emmet: please don’t put your children up in the baggage shelves, they’re not as sturdy as you may think...

===================================

Ingo: To the gentleman dressed as Spinarak-man, please stop spraying silly string at the other passengers, it’s annoying and...Wait, is that you Emmet?! [Spinarak-man flees as soon as the train stops.]

===============================

Emmet: to the guy who threw his coffee at the grind station’s barista? please report to battle car, I just wanna talk...

#Shippers DNI #pokemon incorrect quotes #submas #subway boss emmet #subway boss ingo #subway boss emmet x reader #barista!reader #mature themes

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vxntagedior · 1 year

Note

Pt 2 of coffee shop reg?

"you're in the what." it was a shock to say the least. you had been going out with regulus for a few months now, and you noticed how he had been hiding things from you.

"the mafia." he stated nonchalant. regulus just smirked at your antics.

regulus truly liked you a lot, maybe even loved you and he didn't want to lie to you any further.

"this isn't something you go spreading around okay?" he raised his eyebrow.

"no of course, i understand." you nodded your head rapidly.

the two of you stayed quiet for a while until you broke the silence with your laughter.

"what's so funny?" regulus questioned.

"nothing it's." you ceased your laughter, "i'm like one of those girls in those mafia romance books."

regulus couldn't help but laugh with you.

#fi's baby blurbs #regulus black x reader #regulus black x fem!reader #regulus black x barista!reader #mafia!regulus black #regulus black #mafia!regulus black x reader #mafia!regulus black x fem!reader #mafia!regulus black x barista!reader #barista!reader

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antisocialwritingx · 2 years

Text

I’m Right Here Sir Pt. 4

Pairing: Grumpy! CEO!Ari Levinson x barista!reader

Summary: When Ari is having a rough morning all he wants is a coffee. It just so happens that you were working the register this morning at his favorite coffee shop.

Warning(s): Ari is 6’8”, Grumpy!Ari, cursing, smaller reader, fluff, angst, smut??, slight age gap (Reader is 21 and Ari is 35)

A/N: I am so sorry for such a late update. My mind has just decided to build a writing block for me and every time I would write something, the next day I would hate it. However, I finally have gotten something I like after deleting what I had before and starting from scratch! Thank you all for your patience, my lovelies! I hope you like it <3

Word Count: 2.2K

𝘥𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘴 𝘣𝘺: @firefly-graphics

Warmth surrounded you as the light started to rouse you from your sleep. Your irritated skin let you know that you needed to put some soothing lotion on and fast. Letting out a very unattractive groan, you try to stretch out your body, only to be stopped by a very heavy weight around your waist.

Looking down, you’re met with a large, hairy arm. Confused for a moment you turn slightly and see a sleeping Ari, his features glowing in the sunlight surrounding your living room.

A soft smile makes its way onto your face, delighted to see that Ari had spent the night with you.

Adjusting your body so that it was facing Ari while also not waking him up was a challenge, however you were able to move without waking up the giant man.

Taking a long look at Ari, you take your time taking in his features.

The small pout on his lips during his slumber.

How his hair is messy, but it still looks so good on him.

His long lashes lay on his cheekbones.

Ari looks so calm when sleeping compared to his usual angry/stressed resting face.

In your eyes, Ari was perfect in every single sense. He was the perfect man, a true gentleman who was willing to help anyone and everyone.

Something about Ari just made you feel warm inside. When you’ve had a bad day and all you want to do is cry, just seeing a text from Ari asking you to facetime made a small smile appear on your face.

Or when you get to see him in person, the feeling of his strong arms wrapping around you and lifting you off the ground, oh that was just the best feeling in the entire world.

Let’s not get started on this man’s lips. Ever since Ari asked you out on the date, he would not. Kiss. You.

Ari expressed that he wanted to make your first kiss special, and that was so sweet of him. The big scary CEO was actually a true teddy bear around you. But c’mon. All you really wanted from Ari was a kiss, and by god did his lips look kissable.

You knew that even though you had barely just met Ari, you were already falling hard, and fast for him.

At first the age difference scared you a bit, being 14 years younger than Ari it was scary to you. However, something about Ari just made you think that he was just born in the wrong year.

Sure you still had those silly fears like Ari thinking you’re too young, or Ari finding someone else his age, but Ari always had a way of making you forget those fears, even if he didn’t know it.

The sound of chuckling broke you from your daydream as you looked up to see Ari with a bright smile on his face and his eyes closed.

Huffing jokingly you turn your face away from him with a small pout.

“Noo..keep paying attention to me bunny.” Ari whined, pulling you closer to his large body. For being such a big, tough, scary guy, Ari was the biggest cuddler in the world.

Giggling at Ari you start to pepper kisses all over his face, over exaggerating the kisses with kissing noises.

Resting your cheek against his, you can feel his lips turning up into a smile. Lifting your head to look down at Ari you melt at the sight of sleepy Ari.

“Good morning handsome.” You tell him, kissing his forehead as a sleepy chuckle leaves Ari’s plump lips.

“A good morning it truly is.” He responded, Ari’s voice raspy and gravely due to sleep. Hearing his voice made you feel all warm inside and you could feel his morning wood calling for your attention.

Noticing that you weren’t responding, Ari bent his head forward and started pressing kisses all across your face.

Startled, you yelp in surprise, laughing and pushing Ari against the chest lightly as he continues to lay wet kisses on your face and neck.

As his kisses slow down you look at Ari with a bright look in your eyes.

“You know, you keep kissing me all over my face, but why don’t I get any kisses on my lips?” You ask him, a small teasing smile on your face.

A smirk makes its way on Ari’s handsome face as he tightens his hold on your hips.

“Hmm..do you want a kiss that bad?” He asks, his large hands moving down to grope your ass.

Instead of responding to Ari you lean down and lay your lips on his, kissing him with passion. Your lips move in sync as your tongues fight for dominance.

Just as the kiss starts to deepen, the sound of someone’s phone could be heard throughout your living room.

Not caring about who was calling you kept kissing Ari, running your fingers through his soft hair, a groan leaving Ari’s lips when you pull lightly on his hair.

Ari pulls away from the kiss, his cheeks flushed slightly and his lips cherry red. You looked no different but you leaned down for another kiss.

“Honey I need to pick up the phone.” He mumbled, leaving soft short kisses on your lips between every couple of words. Not wanting to leave Ari you laid your head down on his chest, becoming dead weight so that he couldn’t get up.

Realizing what you were doing Ari laughed, his chest rumbling under your head. You try not to show your smile on your face but a yelp leaves your lips, the movement of Ari lifting your body up catching you by surprise.

Wrapping your legs around his thicker waist, clinging onto him like a koala. Ari moved around light you weighed nothing, making sure to keep the throw blanket wrapped around you so that you weren’t cold.

Walking towards the kitchen, Ari grabs his phone from the table and sighs in irritation due to the message he sees on his phone.

Hearing his sigh you lift your head up from his chest, looking up at him with a small pout.

“What’s wrong bear?” You ask him, seeing the irritation on his face.

“Just some stupid work bullshit. I’m sorry to cut our morning short bunny but I have to be at the office in about 30 minutes to deal with some bullshit.” He sighs, running his hand up and down your back.

Unwrapping your legs around Ari’s waist, you get on your tippy toes before getting down flat on your feet, wrapping your arms around his upper body.

Rubbing your hands up and down his back you tell him with full honesty and care.

“Don’t stress about this okay babe. I know you have work to attend to and it doesn’t bother me. How about tonight we go on that date okay?” You ask him, looking up into his sapphire eyes.

Nodding his head Ari leans down to give you a sweet kiss on your lips, both of you savoring the moment.

Ari pulls away and you both start moving around, Ari grabbing his things while you just follow him around like a puppy.

Meeting Ari at the door you both say your goodbyes, promising to text each other about your date tonight.

After a couple of hours of cleaning up your house and texting with Ari it was finally time for your date.

You both decided to have the date at 7:30 PM so at five you started to get ready.

Taking a shower, shaving, doing your makeup, the whole shebang. You got ready and everything was going great, until you had to decide on what you were going to actually be wearing.

You couldn’t decide between a cute long white dress with small blue flowers all over it, or a classic black dress with a small slit up the side of it.

Deciding to let fate pick your dress, you grab a coin and flip it, heads being the white dress with blue flowers, and tails being the black dress.

The coin landing on heads, you decide to go with a natural makeup look to go with your dress, finishing your look with a pair of white heels and a small baby blue bag.

Grabbing all your things you check the clock on your wall, noticing that you had ten minutes left. Perfect. Ten minutes to panic and pick your outfit apart.

You look in your full size mirror and question your look, only to be stopped by a text from Ari saying that he was here.

Taking one deep breath, you smooth out your dress and grab your bag, heading out the door and to Ari.

Locking the door of your home you make your way towards Ari who was leaning against his car, a bouquet of flowers for you.

Hearing the sound of heels Ari looks up from his phone and he freezes, stuck with a look of awe on his face as he takes in how you look. It was as though you were perfect with how Ari was looking at you, and in his eyes you really were.

“You know Ari, for a guy who’s known for being super scary and harsh with words, you sure don’t have many words when you’re around me.” You tease him, walking up and standing right in front of him.

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts Ari clears his throat and adjusts his chain, looking down at you due to your height difference even with the heels on.

“You..you look beautiful Y/N.” Ari tells you, his words coming out breathless as if his breath was taken away.

You blush at his complement and rest your hands on his chest lightly, your hand toying with the thin gold chain he was wearing.

“You don’t look too bad yourself Mr. Levinson.” You tell him, leaning up to press a soft kiss on his lips.

Ari wraps his arms around your body, careful of the delicate flowers in his hands, and pulls you flush against him, his lips moving along with yours as he hums in delight.

Pulling away from Ari you send him a bright smile, slightly panting due to the sheer passion in the kiss. Removing his arm from around you, Ari holds the bouquet of flowers out, extending it towards you.

“I got you some flowers. I didn’t really know what to get you so I just went with a classic. Red roses.” He tells you, rubbing the back of his neck while you take the flowers from him.

Even though roses weren’t your favorite, the thought of Ari going out of his way to get you flowers warmed your heart.

“Thank you lovey. That's so sweet of you to think of getting me flowers. If you wanna get me some in the future, my favorite flowers are sunflowers, but these roses are seriously beautiful.” You tell him, planting a kiss to his cherry red cheek.

“Not as beautiful as you.” Ari mumbled, a warmth making its way to your cheeks.

Opening the door Ari ushers you into the car, not wanting to waste any time. Buckling yourself up you turn to look at Ari, one hand on the wheel and the other making its way to your thigh.

He sets off driving to the restaurant while you stare out through the window, looking out to see the beautiful city lighting up the starry night.

Arriving at the restaurant you see that Ari had booked you a table at the finest restaurant in town.

At first, you tried to argue with Ari that you couldn’t afford a restaurant like this, but of course, he just shut you up by kissing you and saying that ‘he’ll handle it bunny’, and of course you fall for it because c’mon who wouldn’t?

Now that you both were sitting at your table and glancing at the menu Ari decided you were too far from him. Grabbing your chair, Ari pulls you closer to him, causing you to let out a small squeal.

“Ari! You can’t do that to me, especially in such a nice restaurant! Everyone is gonna now think I’m a dumbass.” You whine, hiding your face in his shoulder as Ari lightly grabs your arm and chuckles.

“Bunny, I could give less of a flying fuck what they were thinking, because I’ve got the most gorgeous woman with me tonight for dinner.” He tells you, causing you to lift your chin and look at him in awe.

Before you could respond to him, Ari leans in and kisses you softly, starting off slowly before gaining some dominance in the kiss.

You both stay kissing for a moment before a clearing of someone’s throat shoves you back into reality. Pulling away you’re met with the face of a server who looks just as awkward as you feel.

Warmth making its way towards your cheeks, you apologize on yours and Ari’s behalf, (Because Ari didn’t really care) and the server took your orders, letting you know that it’ll be out as soon as possible, before running away as quickly as possible.

You look at Ari who just looks at you and smirks.

“What? I’m not gonna apologize for kissin’ up on my girl.”

‘God’ you thought to yourself, ‘Ari is going to be the death of you.’

#Chris Evans #ari levinson fluff #ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson smut #ceo!ari #barista!reader #ari levinson fanfic

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calliopesdiary · 27 days

Text

“you’re too sweet for me”

part two!!!!

preview; the phone call

summary; you partially own your mums coffee & flower shop, so it’s no secret that you’d have a little (big) work crush on a boy whom you only know from his signature on the receipts.

ships; poly!marauders x fem!barista!reader

contents; mild language, reader has long enough hair to tie up into a ponytail, sirius is a flirt

a/n: this isn’t the full part! but enjoy the preview (:

*ring, ring.*

“hello?”

“hey, darling.”

oh gods… that familiar voice… he called you… didn’t he?

“o-oh, hi.”

“you sound surprised, was i not supposed to call the cute girl who works at my favorite coffee shop?”

fuck, here comes the blush.

“i-i just.. didn’t expect you to want too.”

“well, i did want too.”

you could almost hear his cocky grin.

“so, since we’re calling, i was just wondering if we could go out sometime? just casual, getting to know eachother?”

he sounded so confident.

“m-me? you want to go out with.. me?”

“you are the person i’m asking, love.”

“…”

“so.. is that a yes—“

“yes! yes! i mean— sure… that sounds…. fun?”

“great— oh! and i’m sure you won’t mind my boyfriends joining, hm?”

“boyfriends…? fuck! i knew he wasn’t single—“

“they’d like to get to know you as much as i would.”

“… they would?”

“mmmhm.”

“that’s fine.”

“perfect, i’ll pick you up from the shop at eight, will your mum mind?”

“i don’t think so— no.”

“perfect, see you then. love.”

“s-see you!”

“…mum!!! i’ve got a date with my favorite customer.”

you raced upstairs.

taglist!!

@imobsessedwitholiviarodrigo

@wednesdaynn

@glamourbabe17

@carolinexkpop

#marauders era #fem!reader #remus lupin #sirius black #james potter #marauders #poly!marauders x reader #barista!reader

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palpipeen · 2 years

Note

"You were supposed to be there" + "Please tell me what I can do. There has to be something I can do" with Fox? (Maybe he was supposed to stop some crime and didn't get there in time to save Reader from getting hurt?)

Showing Up

A date with Fox at the cafe. What could possibly go wrong? Rating: R for heavy language and some pretty dark themes Warnings: Domestic terrorism, anti-clone rhetoric, physical violence, Hurt with not a lot of Comfort, kidnapping Reader is AFAB/Barista!Reader Wordcount: 3115 AN: Me after writing that last prompt fill: Wowee that one sure showed my propensity to make things angstier than they need to be, I wonder if I’ll ever get an opportunity to do that again? This anon: Oh bet? :) GHSLDKGJHKJGH. I can already tell this one is going to hurt me to write. This one is also going to be Barista!Reader and is going to feature Syd and a new OC. Fuckin missed the creechur. And this one is….tentatively canon to Caf Delivery Service. This one is more canon to the AU, “And Nothing Bad Ever Happened Ever” where the war ends early and O66 never happened. There will be hints of that here but hopefully I won’t give too much away. 83c

SERIOUSLY Triggering content under the cut. Reader discretion is strongly advised. Minors DNI.

You couldn’t remember the cafe being this busy in a long time. The building was practically bursting at the seams - groups of troopers from at least four different battalions occupying almost every available table, mingling with civilians and the odd senator alike. You weren’t big on crowds, and even if the sound was a bit much, you felt like this was the right decision. It wasn’t often you went to The Coaster for anything other than work. But you were feeling a bit…nostalgic.

A year into your sort-of relationship with Fox was a good excuse, you reasoned.

“Well, lookie who it is.” The familiar sing-song voice of your favorite shift manager draws your attention. Syd gives you that wide, eye-squinty grin that always seemed infected just about everyone around them, one you return. Lucky for you, his voice carries easily over the din after they finish helping the customer in front of them. “Aren’t you off?”

“I’m meeting - someone.” You stumble over the last word, catching yourself a split second before ‘Fox’ slipped out. You glance away from their knowing eyes, shrugging, “Figured I’d go ahead and order.”

“Mhmm,” he hums, shimmying his shoulders playfully. Rolling your eyes at them, the two of you wait until you’re the next person in front of their register. Eyes narrowed in an entirely-too-satisfied smirk, Syd props their forearms on the top of the holoscreen, “Someone, eh?” When you pointedly ignore his salacious tone, Syd leans forward until his chin is resting on one wrist. “Does he happen to wear armor? Red armor, maybe? Does he also not know how to actually get a decent night’s sleep?”

“He’s doing better about that actually.”

“Yeah,” Syd chuckles, low and dirty in the back of their throat. “Yeah I’ll bet he is. I bet you know all sorts of ways to get him to sleep like a baby, don’t’cha?”

“C’mon, Syd, leave her alone.” One of your seasonal coworkers, a Twi’lek everyone called Vee, winks at you over Syd’s head when they straighten back up. “She’s got a hot date to think about without you grilling her.”

“Alriiight, two of my usual, please,” you say, a bit louder than is probably necessary and pointedly ignoring the way your voice cracks. Syd chuckles again.

“The triple large?”

“Have you met me Syd?” Or Fox.

You decide not to say that last bit out loud.

After giving Syd the appropriate amount of credits (which they then halve and you two bicker briefly about using your discount before you drop it in the donation box), you go in search of any available table. Exchanging quick greetings with some of the regulars as you do. You eventually settle on a table where you can see the entrance. Not for your own benefit.

While you wait for your drinks, you update Fox on the off-chance he’s caught up in work. Punctuality wasn’t something that really existed for Fox, not with the chaotic schedule he had to maintain.

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 01:03:47> I’m at the cafe! No rush of course - looking forward to seeing you though!

After you fetch your drinks, you settle back at your table.

And you wait.

* * *

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:14> Hey

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:15> I know you’ve got a schedule to keep up with

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:45:17> Just let me know later if you’ll be able to drop by the apartment, okay?

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 02:49:02> Sorry, don’t mean to come off as needy or anything, just missing you

<Message to Unknown Comm Frequency || 03:00:13> I love you

You’re not sure what’s worse. The fact that you can’t really be mad at Fox for standing you up, or the understanding on your coworker’s faces when they see you toss your finished drink. Guilt tears at your stomach, which is also tying itself in knots. You can’t ignore where that guilt is coming from, either.

Face facts: you’re pissed.

Despite knowing that this isn’t his fault, that the whims and needs of senators and other government officials and the general public come first, it’s difficult not to be a little bit frustrated. In the past when Fox hasn’t been able to show up, his reasons were legitimate. You know it isn’t his fault. The frustration still lingers, but without the senators’ names or faces to envision, Fox’s is the only one that surfaces when you’re feeling like this. It’s selfish and you feel stupid and childish for it, and you worry constantly that he might just decide you aren’t worth the effort.

But he always shows up. Fox tries at any rate. Or at least, he makes it up to you when he can’t.

He tries and that’s more than you can say about most people. There will be other days and, little gods willing, other anniversaries.

You squash that thought the second it flits through your head. This line of thinking doesn’t suit your situation, you know. As though they can sense it, Syd catches your eye on your way to the doors, and you can see the pain he shares with you.

“Everything okay?” Their voice is quiet, and when all you can do is shrug, Syd lets out a quiet sound of understanding. “M’sorry, hon.”

“Eh,” you say, shrugging again and forcing a thin smile. “It happens. Kinda used to it.”

“I get it,” they say with a long, slow exhale. Syd glances at the line, which has shortened considerably by now. “Listen, if you wanna hang out and have a few drinks, I get off at --”

The shattering of transparisteel cuts Syd off. In unison the whole cafe turns towards the source of the sound as shards explode inward from one of the windows at the storefront. Shouts of alarm ring out when a metallic sphere arcs through the shattered window, a tail of thick, acrid smoke following it. The moment it touches the floor you see individuals from the GAR moving, feel them brushing past you, and then -

Everything goes white.

Well, that’s not quite right. You aren’t sure how long it takes you to come to, but the white is now replaced with pitch black, interspersed with flashes of white and color. Somehow you’re on the floor, flat on your back, with your head twisted awkwardly to one side.

What’s happening? You think you say that outloud - you feel the friction of something in your throat. But then you realize it’s from the smoke, smoke that fills the entire cafe, almost entirely blinding you. It stings at your eyes, making it nearly impossible to breathe when you try to push yourself upright.

Hands are on you - you flinch until you feel a lekku fall across your shoulder. Vee half drags, half leads you behind the counter, the two of you coughing and hacking the entire way. Syd ushers the two of you into the walk-in fridge, holding one arm across the lower half of his face.

“Syd?!”

“Stay here,” they croak out, and then the door shuts. The sound of the emergency lock activating nearly makes your heart stop.

“What the fuck are they thinking?!” One of your coworkers is on the door the instant the room goes silent. “He can’t be out --”

“Shh.” Vee hisses, grabbing your coworker and hauling him away from the door. All of you, cafe workers and customers alike, turn to her. Her eyes seem fit to burn holes through the door, and you stumble away from it.

Time passes strangely. You’re aware that it’s adrenaline that’s making it like this, but it’s still jarring. What feels like a lifetime creeps by, all while racing too quickly for you to keep up with your brain trying to figure out what’s happened. It works in leaps and bounds, jerky and uneven. Maybe seconds, maybe minutes pass, but you’re convinced hours have crept past by the time you piece together what’s happened.

Your manager had given you a cryptic warning during your interview. People don’t like what we do here. They think giving these soldiers common decency and affordable caf is wrong, somehow. You’d argued that they weren’t paying the rent, or fees to keep the licenses and equipment running. He’d smiled, rueful and exhausted at you. Doesn’t matter. They still hate it. They hate you. They’re going to get in your face, some might follow you around outside of this - but they’re all talk.

It’s the ones who try to keep things quiet you need to worry about.

You can hear it faintly - voices. They aren’t ones you’re familiar with. And they sound so angry. The words are difficult to make out, but you think you can make out a few words.

Mostly because they’re ones you’ve heard about a hundred times before.

Always going to be a threat, the voices say.

Ticking time bombs.

Meat droids.

Dangerous. Murderers.

And then you hear words you’ve never heard before, and you feel a ripple of panic course through everyone around you.

Burn this place to the ground for welcoming them.

Syd’s voice is raised, angry, furious. You feel echoes of it in your chest, a building pressure in your skull. But those are wisps now. Tendrils of barely there smoke.

Because what burns you now is fear. It’s suffocating, all encompassing, it’s --

“Fuck.”

Vee pulls you further back when you see it. Smoke slowly creeps through the cracks under the sealed door. Terror grips you, and you wrench away from her. The look of hurt barely registers when you turn, looking frantically around the walk-in fridge for something. Anything. That same frantic search takes everyone else, and for a few terrifying seconds, the air in the room seems to get thinner.

Then the door flies open, and at some point you moved back to the door.

And you’re staring down the barrel of a blaster. It drops a half-second afterward, and you see the familiar sight of a t-shaped visor.

“C’mon, move it!”

You can’t help it: you flinch when hands grab you again, hauling you out. The familiar helmet - Thorn, you recognize belatedly - tilts slightly to one side, minute movements. And then you’re being dragged out with everyone else, ushered with urgency and efficiency that is terrifying in its own right.

The urgency is understandable - you barely recognize the cafe through the smoke that hasn’t been sucked out of the filtration systems. The back of house is trashed, all of the product on all shelves thrown to the ground. One shelving unit has been ripped out of the bolts in the walls and blocks the way back to the lobby. Scorched pockmarks and streaks of blackened paint marr the walls, and you’re glad for the fact that the light system being off.

Because when you recognize the marks of blasterfire, you don’t want to be able to tell if the liquid splattered on the wall or pooling on the floor in places is blood.

This used to be your safe haven. You met most of your friends here. The ones that stuck around, at least. And now it looks…you’re not sure how it looks. It’s not like anything you’ve ever seen. The sight of it is so jarring, you barely notice the smoke in your lungs until your coughing makes you stumble. Someone has to help you the last few steps out. You’re on the doorstep out the back when you’re pulled in again, hard plastoid digging at your back at awkward angles.

Later, you know it was just instinct. That doesn’t make the guilt, the frustration or panic abate any after the fact. At the moment the latter are at their peak, so the way you thrash in the hold of strong arms is wild and animalistic. Your elbow connects with a gap in pieces of armor, and you feel the grip on your waist release instantly, giving you the opportunity to twist and shove before you spin around and --

“Fox?!”

“Hey, mesh’la,” he grumbles, shaking out his hand and flexing his wrist. The visor tilts in your direction in what you know is an amused look. “Anybody ever tell you that you’ve got a mean elbow? Nearly broke my --”

“Where were you?”

There’s a thick, heavy pause as he draws up to his full height slowly. It’s unbearable, and you’re not sure which is worse. The fact that you could hear the resentment, the anger in your voice, or the fact that you know it is in equal measures justified and misplaced.

You decide quickly that the worst part is he showed up at all.

“Don’t do this, mesh--”

“Don’t you boss me around like I’m one of your fucking men,” you hiss, glaring at his helmet for a few seconds before wheeling around and storming out the cafe.

Everything is a blur. You’re angry, hurt - really hurt, you’ve got a splitting headache that builds and builds and builds the closer you get to your speeder. But most of all, you’re scared, and you can’t wrap your head around any of this. You’re shaking, and you don’t notice that until you try to run your hand over your face. Lights flash and sirens blare and you cut through the crowds that have formed around the cafe, feeling the shocked and curious gazes pinned on you when they see the state of you.

It’s only when you pass in front of one of the windows that you see why. Your outfit is covered in ash, torn in more than one spot along the right side of your body. And you’re crying.

Because of course you’re crying.

It doesn’t even feel fair. This isn’t about you. You know that. This is what those people stand for, what a majority of the fucking Republic stands for. It’s sickening, and it fills you with a new kind of self loathing, but still. You’re crying.

Sobbing, really, when you struggle with your helmet, knees giving out. This time when hands reach out and catch you, you don’t flinch.

You knew he would follow you.

When he fails to bring you back up to your feet, Fox sinks down with you. His gruff voice gets a little wobbly at the end, and that wrings a fresh wave of tears out of you. Speaking low through the vocoder, helmet tilted close enough that you can hear him. But far enough away that anyone watching won’t think anything untoward is happening between you.

“I’m sorry - you have to stay.” When you shake your head, his hands squeeze gently. “Please, listen to me. We need a statement.”

“Of fucking course,” you spit out, trying to shove Fox’s hands away. Your skin crawls under your clothes - his touch has never made you feel like this. But is it really him? Or the minutes spent in that fridge thinking you’d never see him again? Which also makes you feel selfish, because everyone was scared, and everyone could have died and -

“Cyar’ika?” Fox sounds rattled, which isn’t something you’ve ever heard coming from him. His hands fall away after a moment as you feel him desperately trying to search your expression. “What’s wrong?”

“Syd.” Your unfocused vision sharpens when it lands on the entrance, and to your complete horror you see a stretcher being pulled out. And it’s covered. “Syd, is he - where are they?” Fox’s helmet turns away from your sharply after a beat, and now you reach out to him. Fingers scrabbling at his armor as you try to pull yourself closer, but he stands abruptly, leaving you in a heap on the duracrete. “Fox - please. Please, tell me they’re okay.”

“I can’t, mesh’la, I don’t - the regs.”

“Fuck the regs!” The world spins wildly on its axis when you stand up, but you don’t care. Your heart is thundering in your chest, your whole body quaking with something you cannot and dare not name. It’s something like fury, but it’s also terror. But deep down, you know.

You just know.

“Please, just come with me, and we’ll - I’m going to find him, mesh’la.”

“So they’re not dead?” There’s another pause before he turns his helmet away from you, the rest of his body following the movement as he storms back to the ruined shell that was once the cafe. Moments ago you wanted nothing more than to run away from him, and now you find yourself stumbling over your own feet to catch up to him. “Fox, come on, give me something, anything. They’re my best friend, I need - please, I just --”

You don’t get the rest of the words out, your knees buckling again as you fall for the second time that night. But this time, Fox is there to catch you. It’s bittersweet, knowing it’s too late.

“We’re going to find him.”

Fox’s voice comes from far away - but you can almost feel the sincerity in his words. His hands squeeze at your shoulders before he lifts one, and he goes silent for a while. You stare vacantly at the juncture of where his blacks don’t cover the underside of his jaw, the sliver of skin that shows between the seals. You reach up and run the back of your knuckles against his skin.

He’s warm - the safe kind of heat. It twists at something under your ribs, equal parts cruelty and a soul-deep affection. This wasn’t about you - this was about him. About his brothers.

But now they’ve dragged your friend into it, and nothing makes sense anymore.

“You were supposed to be there.”

Fox is holding you. Holding you in a way he never has. Like you’ll break. But you’re already broken.

It’s funny - now you two have that in common, too.

“I know.” His voice is off again, but now it comes from his throat in a dry, achy rasp. “There was - something happened. I can’t tell you. But I wanted to be here, mesh’la, maybe then I could have…I wouldn’t have…” His chest lifts and falls sharply, and the words come from Fox so low you know he’s turned off all of his comm channels so only his vocoder picks up his voice. “Please tell me what I can do. There has to be something I can do.”

“Bring Syd home,” you say, though it sounds more like you’re begging. Fox stares at you in silence for a few moments, then nods with a sense of finality.

He sits with you where you fell until they let you go home, and when the artificial sunlight filters through the blinds the next morning, he’s still holding you.

Neither one of you slept.

Taglist: @seeking-kharis, @lackofhonor, @jabbas-lightsaber, @rain-on-kamino, @thefanficsideblog

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#Caf Delivery Service #Commander Fox x Reader #Commander Fox x Barista!Reader #Syd #Vee #Barista!Reader #boohoobitch.txt #ouch.txt #this one took a lot out of me #idk if I'm out of hiatus but shrugs #thanks nonners

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