#brought to you by an actual barista. me!

[dolls-self-ships]

How I think the HH crew takes their coffee

Lucifer orders the most complicated, sugary, step specific drink you could imagine. He is hated by baristas everywhere. Also gets so excited when ordering he changes it at least 3 times halfway through explaining it. Probably gets something different everytime too. He is a regular with no usual. Charlie canonically likes frappaccinos! Like her dad, I can see her having similar tastes, sugar, but also wanting to keep it simple so that she doesn't overwhelm the employees (she's too considerate for her own good). Orders straight from the menu exactly how it is with no alterations, is also the one who probably walks in with a list of orders for her friends, goes as slow as possible for the cashiers sake. Angeldust rolls up to the drivethrough hung over and orders something iced- probably a caramel drink and he asks for it to specifically be drowned in caramel, and an extra shot. Either that or a vanilla iced latte. Vaggie is not a huge fan of coffee, she gets a tea or tea latte instead. Earl grey is her favourite and she likes a lot of milk. Alastor loves a nice extra hot black coffee. He wants that bitch scolding and bitter. Doesn't even drink it, just splashes it in his face. Where that would normally give someone 3rd degree burns, it gives him some 'extra pep' in the morning, as he puts it (god he's a fucking freak) Husk takes his coffee black also, but instead will spike it with his own bourbon he keeps in a flask. Will sometimes get cream and sugar if he's feeling, as he puts it , 'fancy' (bro is so low maintenance) Nifty isn't allowed to have caffeine for obvious reasons Sir Pentious is another non-coffee drinker but drinks exclusively tea. Is a bit of a snob about it too. Needs the leaves to be fresh or he WILL be able to taste the burntness. His favourite is peppermint. Would rather die than bother the barista to remake it though so he normally brews his own with his own needlessly complicated tea making invention of course.  Cherri bomb loooooves caffine, but isn't much of a coffee drinker. More of a monster energy and redbull kinda gal. She needs something she can drink fast and hard. Don't even get me started on those 5 hour energy drinks. Oh boy. Don't let her near them (she will kill u for one) Vox is an avid coffee drinker. Practically lives off of it and can't get through the day without (it's a problem). Definately has one of those 'don't talk to me before I've had my coffee' mugs bc he's an asshole. Drinks like 5-6 cups in a single day. Send help. Velvette gets a coffee once in the morning and then one in the afternoon. Pulls up to the cash register with her sunglasses on and outfit for the day put together, intimidating buisness lady vibes off the charts while she orders between phone calls. Also definately shushes the barista of they try to ask her any questions, can't you see she's on the phone? Her order is LONG and COMPLICATED and she needs it made the way she likes to a T, she also talks fast and no she will NOT repeat herself so you better be a fast writer. Probably gets something vanilla flavoured with 3 shots of espresso in it. Valentino isn't a coffee guy but if he needs it for a long shoot or late night he gets either an Americano or pure espresso shots. No time to waste with the frills and fancy stuff despite the look of him. Also will throw the cup at the barista if the shots come out burnt or expired.

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024

July 6th Prompt: Dizzy

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 7

@steddie-week

Steve stands up, and that’s where it all goes wrong.

His intent was to grab more drinks from the fridge, but when he stood, he blinked a few times. “Whoa,” he murmurs.

“Steve?” Robin asks. She sounds like she’s at the end of a long tunnel.

“Steve?” Eddie asks. He sounds closer, but not as close as he should.

“‘M fine,” he says, “jus’ dizzy.”

Then he’s waking up in the hospital. “What,” he asks, then doesn’t complete the thought because Robin and Eddie are both standing over him, one on each side, holding each of his hands, and he’d feel so much love if he could feel anything besides general panic because- “I can’t hear you,” he says, breathing picking up. “I can’t- please, I- I need-”

Eddie shuts up, staring at him with wide eyes, and after a second of hesitation, places Steve’s hand, palm down, on his chest. He takes deep, purposeful breaths, and Steve can feel his hand moving, feel the breaths, feel his heartbeat-

He takes a breath. Another. Another. By that time, Nancy had gotten a doctor.

Later, he’ll learn this is something they’d been watching for, but couldn’t be sure of until he woke up. Later, he’ll learn that Eddie lays awake at night, sometimes, hearing the sound Robin makes.

All he knows right now is how to keep breathing, how to keep holding Robin’s hand, how to believe he’ll be okay, because he has to.

He has to.

He stays with Eddie upon his release, because they’re together most days anyways, and it’s a certain kind of torture on Steve’s heart because Eddie’s started carrying around a notebook and a pen just to write to Steve whatever he was gonna say, and Steve doesn’t think he could love another person more than he did, but here’s the proof, apparently.

They’re sharing a bed, because Wayne had previously called their couch “older than Jesus,” and Steve lasted for all of an hour on it before slipping into Eddie’s room.

The good thing about sharing a room is it helps curb the nightmares for a time.

Eventually, though, they come back with a vengeance.

Steve’s laying in bed, like he does every night, when he rolls over to face Eddie. “Eddie?” He asks. Eddie’s always last to sleep, so Steve’s not hesitant about asking, except Eddie doesn’t answer.

“Eddie?” He asks again, jostling Eddie’s shoulder a bit.

Suddenly he shoots up in the air, and Steve bites back a yell.

Suddenly there’s a voice that sounds like it’s coming from everywhere and nowhere, reverberating off the corners of the room, echoing louder and louder. You took everything from me. Eddie’s arms snap, and Steve yells, scrambles up, music, except what’s his favorite song—that puppet one, metal, come on brain, think—but there’s nothing here but country, bluegrass, stuff Wayne likes, and Steve turns to watch the blood drain from Eddie’s face as another gristly crunch echoes, louder than anything so far. So I’ll take everything from you!

Something reaches out for him, grabs his shoulder, and he yells, twists around, pushes away, hard enough he falls on the ground. He opens his eyes to see Eddie on his bed, Steve sitting just off it, eyes wide and hand reaching to help, stalled halfway. Illuminated by the lamp, too, which wasn’t on half a second ago.

Steve blinks at him, looks at the room. No floating Eddie in the middle of it.

“Dream?” He asks. Eddie nods. He stifles the sob and practically launches himself onto the bed, into Eddie’s arms, lets himself shake apart because he can.

Eventually he feels reverberating in Eddie’s chest that he knows means words, means speaking, so he looks up at Eddie, who’s looking at the door.

He turns to look, too, and sees Wayne. “S-sorry,” he tries, still sniffling.

Wayne shakes his head at him, walks into the room, sits on the edge of the bed. Offers his arms out in a hug.

Steve thought he was done crying. Trust Wayne to prove him wrong, because he’s tearing up all over again as he leans into Wayne.

His new position means he can see Eddie, who points at him, makes a talking motion with his hand, then points at himself and Wayne. Steve frowns. “You… want me to tell you?”

Eddie points at Steve again, insistently, and Steve understands: your choice.

“I can,” he agrees. “We were in bed and I was tryin’a talk to you, but you didn’t answer, and I kept trying to get your attention, but suddenly you- you were up in the air, and your arms and legs broke, and a voice—it was Vecna, I didn’t recognize it in the dream—said I’d taken everything from him so he was gonna take everything from me. And I was trying to find music, but I couldn’t remember the name of your favorite song, and the only stuff in here was Wayne’s stuff, country and bluegrass and stuff like that, and…” he sighs out a broken sob. “I couldn’t save you.”

Eddie reaches for his hand, but suddenly that’s not enough, he needs to be able to feel his heartbeat, have his breathing move Steve’s hand, so he tips over into Eddie again, gets his hand on his chest and his face in the side of his neck.

Eddie says something, but before Steve can move Wayne’s got a comforting hand on his back. He removes it after a minute, and Steve can feel the shift in the bed of him getting up, but before he can mourn the loss, Eddie’s got his arms wrapped around Steve as he carefully lowers them back down. He rubs a hand up and down Steve’s spine, slips the other into Steve’s hair.

Steve falls asleep like that.

He wakes up in almost the same position. He tries to apologize, but Eddie waves him off, hands him some clothes and points to the bathroom before pointing to himself and miming cooking.

Steve’s heart clenches at the thought. “Okay,” he whispers.

Robin comes over later, and they sit on the front steps as he recounts what had happened. “He’s just so sweet,” he sighs. “And I’m an idiot who’s letting my heart get involved.”

Robin wraps an arm around his shoulders and kisses his temple. It doesn’t help as much as he’d hoped it would, but he appreciates the gesture anyways.

Later she leaves, and Eddie pulls out his dedicated Steve Notebook.

I’ve got a friend in Indy who knows sign language. I could give her a call, if you want? He writes, and again Steve’s all but overcome with love for this man.

Instead of anything he wants to do, he just nods. Eddie grins and hops up to use the phone.

He’s back in a couple of minutes, collapses onto the couch with the notebook before furiously scribbling and handing it to Steve.

I spoke to my friend. She says sorry and it sucks, first of all. Steve snorts and nods. She’s willing to talk to you, get you started, maybe even get you some books. Does tomorrow work?

Steve gapes up at Eddie. “Tomorrow?”

Eddie nods and grins, then points at Steve in a gesture Steve knows has come to mean you decide.

“That would be great,” he says. “Seriously, I- thank you, Eddie.”

Eddie waves him off, but Steve can see the happy little blush on his cheeks.

They head out the next day. It’s probably twenty minutes into the drive, and even with Eddie sitting next to him in the driver’s seat, it feels lonely. He never realized how much he’d miss the sound of tires on asphalt. He wasn’t ever truly into music, like Eddie is, but he misses the radio. He misses the wind rushing past, the silence that’s possible to share when both people can hear-

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s pulled over, a hand on his cheek and a concerned expression on his face. “Sorry,” he tries. Eddie shakes his head, presses his palm more firmly to Steve’s cheek. “Fuck,” he mutters. “‘S stupid. Just… felt alone. I dunno. There’s, like, a million little things you hear every day that you don’t think about, like the way your hands tap the steering wheel when you turn, or the way your clothes shift and rub against each other, and it’s all silent now, and there’s not even music, and-” he takes a deep, shaky breath. Lets it out as evenly as he can. “I just… felt really alone all of a sudden.”

Eddie brushes his thumb along Steve’s cheekbone as he thinks. Suddenly, he grins and moves his hand, shoving a tape into the deck and cranking the sound. He demonstratively puts his hand on the door. Steve laughs and does the same, gasping when he feels the vibrations of the song move through him. He can’t tell notes, but it’s something, and then Eddie carefully reaches for his hand, keeps his grip relaxed until Steve smiles at him and tightens his own fingers around Eddie’s. “Thank you,” he whispers.

Eddie smiles, nods, and gets back on the road.

They arrive at his friend’s apartment in no time, and Steve would be jealous at the length of the hug if Eddie didn’t immediately step back to grab Steve’s hand again. Based on his hand motions, he’s introducing Steve.

She asks Eddie something, and he turns bright red, pulling a strand of hair across his face as he glances at Steve before looking back at her and answering.

She invites them in, scribbles on a little chalkboard, and hands it to Steve with a smile. Hi, Steve! My name is Nicole. It’s nice to meet you.

He grins up at her. “It’s nice to meet you, too.”

She takes the chalkboard back, scribbles something else. Eddie tells me you recently lost your hearing. Do you mind me asking about that?

“Not at all,” Steve says, then frowns, somehow just now realizing he doesn’t know the full extent of what happened. “Honestly, all I know is I stood up and got really dizzy, and then I was waking up in the hospital.” He shrugs. “I’ve had a couple of pretty bad concussions, and I guess whatever made me pass out also just… took my hearing.” He shrugs.

Eddie shakes his head, grabs for the chalkboard. Almost. He bites his lip. You passed out, and I wasn’t fast enough. You hit your head on the floor. He looks away, takes a deep breath. I’m sorry.

“That is not your fault, Eds,” Steve tells him firmly. Eddie won’t look him in the eyes, so Steve grabs his chin. “Hey, look at me. Not your fault. I don’t blame you. Okay?”

Eddie shrugs, pointing to himself with a self-deprecating smile, and Steve knows what he’s trying to say. I do.

“Well I don’t,” Steve says. “But if- if you need to hear it. I forgive you, okay?”

Eddie nods, eyes big and wet, and Steve pulls him into a hug.

Eddie suddenly laughs, pulling away to wipe his eyes before saying something to Nicole.

Right. They’re not alone. “Sorry,” he tells her, but she waves him off, handing over the chalkboard again. I think we’ll start on the alphabet today. That way you can at least finger spell what you need, even if it’s slow.

“Sounds good,” he says, and she nods, talking the chalkboard to write the alphabet.

Slowly but surely, she teaches Steve and Eddie the alphabet. They get a little tripped up on some of the letters, most noticeably p and q, until Nicole takes pity on them and makes a p. She uses her other hand to draw a line down both her extended fingers, then tracing her own legs. She taps her thumb, peeking out between the two, and with a mischievous grin, points between Steve and Eddie’s legs.

They share a look and burst out laughing, but they don’t forget those letters again.

By the end of the day, they’ve gotten through the alphabet with enough regularity that Nicole feels they can practice on each other.

Steve pauses before they leave. T-h-a-n-k, then a pause, then y-o-u.

Nicole smiles, presses her fingertips to her lips, then brings her hand down to chest height, palm up. She does the motion again, and Steve copies her, grinning when she nods excitedly.

“Thank you,” he signs and says, grinning even wider when she pulls him into a quick hug before waving at him and Eddie.

They wave back and pile into the van, Steve’s hand in Eddie’s before Steve can practically blink. He smiles, unbearably fond, and squeezes to get his attention before signing, “Thank you.”

Eddie just smiles back, throws the van into reverse, and starts home. 

They practice more while they make dinner, throwing words like spatula and stir and chop around, and Steve didn’t realize learning could be this fun.

He’s watching Eddie stir the broth, hips moving in a little dance to a song only Eddie knows, and his heart is so full, he has to say something before his heart bursts. “I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound incredibly sappy,” he says. “But just… please just listen until the end? And try not to tease me too much.”

Eddie just smiles, grabs his hand and squeezes, and Steve takes a breath before starting.

“I’m glad it’s you. I’m glad you were there that day, I’m glad you were there when I woke up at the hospital, I’m glad you were there when I realized going home meant being completely alone. I’m glad you made a complete fool of yourself in the hospital lobby, doing charades to let me know I could stay here.” He takes a breath. “I’m glad you have Nicole, because it lets me talk with you easier. I’m glad you never once let me feel like I’m alone, or like I’m going through this alone. I’m glad you’re learning with me. I’m glad you’re making this fun. I didn’t know learning could be fun, but it is with you, and I-” he takes a breath, swallows the three words that want to come out. “I’m glad it’s you,” Steve whispers, “here, at the end of all things.”

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until Eddie’s hands are cradling his cheeks, wiping away tears. Eddie’s just as teary-eyed, though, and he pulls away, looking for the notebook. Please don’t punch me.

Steve looks up, brows furrowed, to watch Eddie spell something. I l-o-v-

That’s as far as he gets before Steve gasps, understanding, or hoping he understands, and pulls Eddie into a kiss.

He pulls back almost immediately to check that’s correct, that that is what Eddie was trying to say, when Eddie pulls him back in, dinner be damned, crowding him in against the counter and doing his best to lick into Steve’s mouth.

Steve lets him, pulling away for a sharp inhale before diving right back in, fingers tight in Eddie’s hair and the back of his shirt, and there’s a sudden vibration that he just knows means Eddie moans, and suddenly he’s dizzy again, but this time he welcomes it, because this time he’s not passing out; this time, he’s dizzy because he’s drunk on love.

[r-osehips]

there is no greater high than being the barista’s favorite.

[redflagshipwriter]

Fast Car Chapter One (of four)

Masterpost

Danny hit the brakes hard and veered into a bicycle lane with a very Fenton sort of style and disregard for physics. He dodged the gunman in the carpool lane. He stuck his tongue out as he passed and then steered back into the right lane once he’d cleared the pedestrian. 

It turned out that Gotham rewarded the sort of drivers forged in the crucible of the Fenton tactical GAV, which was great. Jazz had gotten a job as a barista for her third year at Gotham U, so he had inherited the car that she had used as a delivery driver. She’d even somehow managed to pay the taxes on it despite the restraining orders that most government offices had on the Fenton family.

Jazz had been a pizza girl, but Danny wasn’t willing to work the late nights. He worked for three different rideshare companies. It was.. Well. It was a terrible way to make a living, if he was honest. It was wretched. But it worked! Until the car crapped out on him, this was a viable option to feed himself while he was enrolled full time at the university. He was available to drive early in the mornings and for a few peak hours on the weekends.

Danny brought an order of 17 coffees to a warehouse with serious ‘murders will happen here today’ vibes and whistled as he left. People in murder warehouses actually tipped pretty well. Worker solidarity or something. He left the early birds to enjoy their 3 am drinks and then idly checked the app to see if there was anyone else waiting for a ride or delivery. 

“Victor,” he read, and took a glance at the address. It was close! He snagged the request and turned on some bubblegum pop to enhance the ride over. 

He saw a man standing outside, haunting a storefront with metal shutters pulled down. Must be the guy! Danny pulled over, checked the app, and then furrowed his eyebrows. Huh. Seemed wrong. He fixed his face before he looked back over. 

In the app, Victor didn’t look especially young or fit. In person, he was easily over 6 feet tall and lugged a huge bulky bag like it weighed nothing. 

He also had a giant ugly motorcycle helmet with the vague impression of a caveman brow ridge built into it. Danny hid his judgmental thoughts and rolled down the window to chirp, “Hi! Victor?”

“That’s me.” Victor sounded like he was auditioning for the Deft Punks, electronics grinding out his voice to a silly robot autotune. Danny hid the way his lips wanted to tremble. You can’t laugh at clients. “Can I put this in the trunk?”

Danny hated that. “Go for it.” He opened the trunk with the button and hid his real thoughts. He didn’t like people using the trunk. Why not just put it in the backseat like a normal person? There was enough room for a person and a bag there.

‘Is there enough room for this guy, actually?’ Danny wondered, looking Victor up and down subtly. Were his shoulders padded or was he actually built like that? Bizarre. 

He had the sense that Victor was tense.

‘Ah., fuck. He caught me checking out his shoulders.’

Danny cleared his throat and whipped his face forwards again. “Normally I say to sit in the backseat, but I'm not sure that's enough room for your legs. Either is fine.” 

Victor took him up on the front seat option and readjusted the passenger seat back with a casual ease. 

Danny waited a moment.

Victor cocked his head at him.

“Seatbelt,” Danny prompted.

There was a long moment. Victor silently buckled his seatbelt. 

“Awesome.” Danny put on his turn signals and pulled out. He went slower than he preferred. He’d learned the hard way that most passengers didn’t like his driving. It was great for cutting time off when he was delivering food, but no good for nervous cargo like poor Victor here. The poor guy was so anxious that he kept his emotional support helmet on when a passenger in a car. 

Danny thoughtfully drove the speed limit and let Victor change music.

They didn’t have much to talk about. Danny didn’t mind much either way. He liked quiet rides and he liked chatting alright.

“Stop the car two blocks early,” Victor said. He pointed. “There’s fine.”

Obligingly Danny guided the car to a stop and shifted to park. He jumped out of the car. “I’ll grab your bag!” He called over his shoulder. He popped open the trunk and lifted Victor’s bag with a winning smile that said ‘I deserve a good tip.’

Victor had moved to the back of the car faster than Danny expected. He paused. He looked weirdly stiff. “Thanks.” He took the bag. “...Here’s your tip.”

“Have a wonderful day!” Danny said, pretending not to be interested in how much money it was. He waved Victor goodbye and pulled out. As soon as he was a block away he counted the bills. “Fuck yeah,” he hissed. Victor tipped like a crime boss. He stuffed them into his wallet and made a mental note of the account. He’d definitely try to accept requests from him in future.

He gave two more rides before he could go back to his shitty apartment and get ready for classes. Danny parked in the little underground garage near his place where he paid a monthly fee and jogged to his place. He got his bag and left on foot.

He had a pretty normal day. The only hiccup was that it was kind of hard to focus on his lectures when he could faintly hear what had to be every TV on campus playing the same news bulletin. Danny did his best to block it out, grimacing. Having advanced senses really sucked sometimes. If he heard the breaking news jingle one more time, he might cry. 

By the time he was free he felt pushed to his limit. He went back to his place and turned off all his electronics for some peace of mind. 

The next morning felt better. He turned on the tab that said he was available for work at 3 am and ended up bringing a huge delivery of breakfast materials to the same police station that he’d left Victor at yesterday. Danny hummed as he jogged up the concrete steps with three bulging bags of baked goods and coffee grounds. He handed them to a weary-eyed receptionist and accepted his tip without looking at it. He considered cracking a joke about them being busy and decided it was better not to.

He was still an illegal entity, after all. His parents were covering for him, but scrutiny was not his friend. He didn’t want any interaction with the police or the rogue band of detective freakazoids that ran this crime town.

Back in the car, he checked his tip. Danny clicked his tongue and made a disgusted sound. He hated cops. Cheap! There was nothing worse than being cheap.

His next customer tried to rob him at gunpoint as soon as he got in the car. Danny wrestled the gun away from him and ate it while the guy watched. “Just try and report me to the app,” Danny sneered between crunches of metal. It tasted like shit and the guy probably hadn’t washed his hands, so like, yuck. But it was a choice he was making for the intimidation factor, not because it was yummy.

‘Bet my iron intake is good now.’ Danny held out his hand. “My tip,” he said, and did not unlock the car door until the shaking wannabe carjacker had given him three dollars American money. Hell yeah. “Have a good morning.”

He went into the app and canceled the ride. There was another request waiting, so he drove to it. It wasn’t the name that the app’s request had shown, but- “Good morning, Victor!” Danny waved. “Call from a friend’s app this time?”

Victor stared at him dumbly. At least, that was Danny’s best guess of what was going on inside the helmet. “Yes.” He eventually said.

Cool, cool. Very weird. But he was an ok guy and he tipped well. “Hop in,” Danny said, and unlocked the car.

[annebaby]

hello all! its summer break, so hopefully i will stay motivated to write. one of my friends helped me come up with this idea, so i hope you like!!

warnings: fingering (r receiving), kissing, biting, public sex

divider from here!

coffee shop 

college english - absolutely horrific. i’ve gotten a new essay assignment every week, each one being over a topic that was far too complex to make sense of. however, i had aced all of them. 

so this week, i was fully prepared to ace another essay. my brain had been working overtime trying to predict the upcoming topic. 

i travelled to the college’s local coffee shop, looking forward to my headphones, an iced matcha, and a few hours of pure focus. 

i entered the shop, finding a seat tucked in the back corner. i set my stuff down and went up to order, feeling my phone vibrate while i was waiting for my drink. 

it was an email from my professor with this weeks essay assignment. 

“how do you challenge yourself to let go of things stopping you from being independent?” 

what the fuck?

normally, this would be an easy topic. an easy answer to a simple question. but right now - it wasn’t. 

i had just gotten over a fresh breakup with my now-ex girlfriend, kate martin. it was hard enough seeing her as the poster athlete all over campus, being reminded of her looming residence in my heart. 

however, i recently had begun to work on myself and forgetting all the memories we had once shared. our breakup was civil, but the constant gossip of every recent hookup she had was like a dagger to the heart. 

i prayed this assignment wouldn’t bring up all those feelings again. it was hard enough to get to where i was now. countless nights of crying to my roommates, eating junk food, drinking, etc. had gotten me to where i was now. i was happy. 

that was until i saw my english assignment. 

“iced matcha latte!” the barista called out. 

i walked up to the counter, thanking her before sitting back down in my corner and opening my laptop. i put on my headphones, taking a deep breath before locking in and starting to write. 

i wrote for what seemed like hours. i wrote about how i had gotten over my recent breakup by working out, giving myself time, and hanging out with friends (minus the excessive drinking). it was hard not to think about her blonde hair sprawled across my pillows when she would stay over. it was hard not to think about the way she would kiss me after she won a game. it was hard not to - wait, no. 

i wasn’t doing this again. i couldn’t do this again. 

i took my headphones off and paused my music, taking a break from the writing. i looked up and noticed how crowded the coffee shop had actually gotten. people had been piling in, and now it was almost full. 

the line was at least 7 people long, each one talking to another person with them. i smiled to myself, feeling happiness radiating throughout the cafe. 

until i saw that blonde hair. it wasn’t cascading over my pillows though. it was falling onto the shoulder of the girl she had brought with her. kate martin and the new mystery girl of the week, who would’ve guessed?

i scowled at the sight of them, anger filling my veins to distract me from my jealous, sad feelings. i wanted that to be me. that SHOULD be me. 

fuck, why am i like this? 

i pop my headphones back on my head, resuming the music with the volume all the way up. i try to ignore her presence, acting like i simply never saw her at all. its easier that way. i don’t want to see her doting on another new girl. 

i regain my focus on my essay, but this time the words aren’t coming out as easily. instead, i was re-typing all my sentences. each word was filled with hate and anger, reflecting my feelings in this situation. 

frustrated, i look up across the shop, immediately catching kate already staring at me. 

god. 

i quickly look away, pausing my music and heading to the restroom. i shut the door behind me, looking at my reflection in the mirror. all i see is a women who is defeated. a woman who is tired, angry and upset. 

before i let the tears fall, i put my face in my hands. im squeezing my face, gently tugging on my own hair, and sighing out of anger. my leg starts subconsciously bouncing up and down, my anger starting to physically course through me.

the door opens. i turn my head to see the very person causing me to be this way. 

kate notices me completely disheveled, locking the door behind her. 

“hey, are you okay?” she asks. her hand reaches for my shoulder, but i stand back.

“im fine,” i say, trying to push my way past her back out to my laptop, my sanctuary. 

but, she won’t let me pass. instead, she picks me up and sets me onto the bathroom counter, standing between my legs. i look away, not being able to look her in the eyes with tears now generously streaming down my cheeks. 

“you’re not fine,” she says, cautiously wiping my tears. i swat her hand away.

“what makes you think you’re still allowed to touch me? talk to me like this?” i bawl.

i hop off the counter, now standing in front of her. 

“go back to this week’s fuck and leave me alone,” i head for the door, but i’m stopped as kate grabs my wrist and pulls me back around to face her, unbearably close. 

“please, just talk to me,” kate pleads. 

i squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the pain flooding throughout my head. 

i look up at her, tears still falling down my face. 

“you’re such an assho-

i’m cut off by kate’s hands on either side of my face, pulling me in for a sweet, hungry kiss. my hands hover over her, surprise engulfing me as i struggled to comprehend what was happening. 

she pulled back, looking at me between my eyes. she was desperately trying to assess my reaction. 

a moment of boldness was all it took for me to lose all control, and there was no need for her to assess when my hands reached her waist and pulled her into me. i smashed my lips to hers, her hands gripping my ass. 

i groaned into her and she uses her opportunity to invade my mouth. taken aback, i stumble backwards until my ass is against the sink of the restroom.

“jump,” she whispers.

i suddenly realize how unfortunate this situation is - making out with my ex girlfriend in a coffee shop while she’s out with another girl. 

its almost as if kate sees the realization cross my face when she says, ”its fine, its fine," against my neck. her voice gives me chill bumps, flashbacks to our previous encounters flashing through my mind.

her fingers are toying with the waistband of my shorts, dipping in and out teasingly. i feel her lips moving and nipping at my neck, no doubt leaving marks for me to discover later - kate’s signature move.

i whined her name, practically begging for her to slip her fingers in me. she smirked against my skin. i hated being so needy, but kate loved to tease. i could not handle that right now.

“please kate, please,” i whispered. 

“what do you want?” she breathed.

her stupid pride. her stupid ego. had i really forgotten the way she’d make me beg for her? i laughed. 

“you don’t deserve to hear me beg.”

i grab her wrist and move her fingers to my center, immediately feeling her fingers tense at my wetness. 

i grab her shoulder with my free arm, my forehead digging into her neck. her fingers started tracing circles on my most sensitive spot, causing me to bite her shoulder to keep myself from moaning. in response, i feel two of her fingers dive into me, curling and straightening as she fucks me with them. i lift my head up to look at her face, her eyes looking downward between us the whole time. 

“fuck,” i whisper. i feel myself coming undone, seeing her that focused on the connection between us was sending me over the edge.

she smiles and meets my eyes quickly. 

“c’mon, you can do it,” she breathes. she leans forward and takes my bottom lip in between her lip, tugging on it. i felt the tightness in my stomach loosen. 

kate breathed out as if she had been holding a breath this entire time. she helped me finish out my high, before sticking her fingers in her mouth, licking them clean of me. 

she stands in front of me, unphased. meanwhile, i’m heaving, my legs shaking and cramping. i look at her, my face puffy from my previous crying.

and we just start laughing. i hop off the counter, standing on my tip toes to give her a quick kiss. this felt like old times, our feelings felt like they had never left.

“tell your whore that i’m back,” i whisper. 

her eyes widen in amusement, her hands finding a resting spot on my waist. 

“i’ll be at your place later so we can talk about… this.” i motion back and forth between us.

i leave her grasp and walk back out in the coffee shop, returning to my laptop. smiling to myself, i read the essay that i had so effortlessly typed out. i delete the entire thing before closing my laptop. 

i couldn’t write about being independent after my ex girlfriend had ruthlessly fucked me in the coffee shop bathroom. 

[ajortga]

sweet pt.2

pairing: jenna ortega x fem reader

summary: jenna can't stop thinking about you, the coffee girl. she may or may not have asked you out on something her friends consider as a date.

word count: 3k+

read the other parts here! previous part: part 1 part 2 part 3

It became sort of a habit for Jenna.

It would be music, think about you, eat, think about you, sleep, think about you, film, yay Jenna gets to see you!

Maybe she’s over exaggerating it, but at the same time she’s really not.

Jenna wasn’t the regular person to be a love bird. Head over heels for someone was barely something she was used to. Well sure she would pass some guys in the city or notice them on set and think, “Oh his hair is perfect” or “He’s kind of cute.” She’s dated a few guys, broke them off because they weren’t for her.

All of the guys only hung out with her knowing she was a celebrity, or she would really think they were the one, until they lost interest and treated her like some toy. She hated when they did that. In fact, she was disgusted by it so much that she didn’t even want to think of having a lasting relationship at all. She just had to find someone right for her.

-

“You’re awfully quiet,” Melissa nudges Jenna as they’re both in their Tara and Sam outfits.

Jenna hums, looking at the taller latina with a small roll of her eyes while their makeup is getting patched up, “Just hungry, I guess.”

She shifts in her seat, her earbuds in and waiting for this day to be over, she forgot an umbrella. Of course the forecast would show as non-stop rain the whole day with thunderstorms, she literally checked the day before and it said sunny.

“Well, we only have to shoot like, 5 scenes. You wanna go with Jas and Mason to the Italian place you like? On me.”

Tempting.

But Jenna’s mind has other plans. 

“I think I’m gonna drop by the coffee place next door, craving a latte you know?”

She sees the way Melissa’s face twitches upwards, almost as a confused yet searching look, “You don’t like coffee.”

“The shop changed my mind, Y/N recommended a latte that is actually really good.”

“Y/n you say?” And from Melissa’s sing-song voice, she knows what’s coming.

“Yes,” Jenna scoffs, she can feel her ears begin to heat up.

“I didn’t know you had a friend named Y/N.”

It’s a little quiet, the only noise is from Jenna’s half put in earbud, “I met her a couple days ago, she’s a barista that helps her parents run their coffee shop. Keeps the place cozy and organized.”

“So she’s a barista?”

“Yes,” Jenna replies, half distracted as she picks at her cuticles.

“Who helps run her parent’s coffee shop?”

“Yep.”

“Next door?”

“Uh huh.”

“You like her,” Melissa smirks, it’s not a question anymore.

“Yes-Wait what? No!” Jenna slaps Melissa’s arm, caught off guard.

Jenna hears her laugh, half-heartedly, “I’m just kidding, but you do seem out of it, are you thinking about her often?”

She shrugs, picking off skin that she just scratched.

“Well I think you are, you’re nervous.”

Now the daydreamer turns to face Melissa, “No I’m not, I just think she’s sweet and she’s someone that already brought me out of that introverted lookin’ shell when I first meet people.”

It was true. It’s like you two knew each other when you first met, she hopes you thought of her that way too. She hopes you’re thinking of her as much as she thinks about you everyday.

Melissa looks down at Jenna’s cuticles, then back up at her, “You’re thinking about her, you’ve been quiet today and don’t think I didn’t see what song you’re listening to. You never listen to love songs!”

“What?! I have not been listening to love songs!”

“Lover by Taylor Swift? Lingers by The Cranberries? About you by the 1975?  Dark Red by Steve Lacy??”

My heart's been borrowed and yours has been blue

All's well that ends well to end up with you

Swear to be overdramatic and true to my lover

“I just have taken interest in love songs I guess, it’s spring anyways right?”

“Spring my ass! That is bullshit!” Jasmine chimes in, making Jenna flinch and turn to the corner where Jas was hiding.”

“What the fuck Jas.. Are you eavesdropping?” Jenna shrieks.

“I know when a girl likes a girl,” Jas rolls her eyes and immediately stands up from her squatting position, “Don’t think me and Mason didn’t see you texting someone that you named mY y/N OOoO La lAAaAa..”

Jasmine shuts up with a slipper slapped into her face.

“Just go ask her out or something,” Mason says, popping behind Jasmine and getting the second pair of slippers thrown to his stomach, making him yelp.

“I barely even know her,”

“And there's no difference, you barely fall in love, girl, love at first sight for you means that she’s the one. You know your priorities and she checks all of them. If not, you wouldn’t be listening to those dumb love songs.”

“Gotta agree Jenna, what about this, we’ll go to the Italian restaurant first, then we’ll leave you alone with her in the coffee shop, you come out and tell us how it goes.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you love us.”

“Ugh.”

-

The alfredo pasta was twirled from the fork Jenna was holding, eating as the cast of scream 6 giggled and talked during their lunch break. It was a big bowl of pasta to say the least, she shared it with the whole cast but she was eating it up like there was no tomorrow. She knew around this time she came to your cafe, she only came around two times, but if you didn’t see her on a Thursday in the afternoon, she can almost feel the disappointment you might feel. Or hopes you feel, Jenna’s wondering to herself if you even think of her.

“Oh she’s falling hard for this silly Y/N girl,” Jasmine whispers to Melissa, to which she agrees almost immediately.

“No I’m not,” Jenna blurts, placing down her fork.

Everyone in the table clicks their tongue, a few, “Oh come on” and “Liar!”

“Well you wouldn’t have responded, we’ve been talking to you for the past 5 minutes and you only jerk your head when you hear anything about her!” Jasmine groans, showing her hands if they would somehow present something.

She signals for the check, she quickly pays, and as soon as that happens her real life core four push her out of the restaurant and to the outside of the coffee shop, like parents.

“Go,” Jenna’s shoulder was pushed into the door and it was too late to go back as she heard the familiar bell ring.

“I hate you Jas,” her hands flip the 3 people giggling behind the foggy window behind her as she hears the voice she’s been thinking about the whole day.

“Jenna!” Your tiny figure pops out from the coffee bean machine, waving to her happily.

Cute, she thinks to herself. You’re so cute.

“Almost thought you wouldn’t come today,” you murmur, making Jenna shake her head.

“Just had some lunch with friends, but I couldn't miss out on coffee on Thursdays though.”

“Ah,” you hum, your eyes focused on the latte art you were working on.

The only noise is the r&b music and the small chatter that keeps the environment comforting. 

A small bunny was being created, pouring the creamer carefully. 

“You’re almost looking as tiny and cute as that bunny,” your co-worker, Matteo says, a few feet away from you.

A soft laugh erupts in your throat, rolling your eyes from his compliment, but thanking him nonetheless. Jenna doesn’t know if she’s feeling a strong pit of jealousy that sizzles beneath the back of her mind. Her eyes train on the boy, hazel eyes, brunette hair. 

“Okay okay, stop that,” you grumble, a small smile plastered on your face as you playfully nudge him to show your annoyance.

“Feisty,” he chides.

“The only thing I did differently today is that I curled my hair. You can barely see it in this ponytail,” one hand is pointing to your hair while the other keeps concentrating on the bunny.

“You’re also wearing a bow, your freckles are more visible, mmm,” he thinks for a moment, “Oh and,” he comes closer, whispering in your ear so only you can hear. Your body almost shivers from it, “You’re staring at a new coming regular and smiling like a weird teenager.”

You stop your latte art, groaning in frustration since you were caught by a coworker that also is a kind friend of yours.

“No I’m not, stop whispering in my ear and let me do my latte art,” you shove him away and continue to work on your bunny.

Jenna swallows the prickly feeling in her throat, feeling herself scowl at some guy who’s name tag seems to say, “Mat ear.” Maybe she should switch out acting with latte art for a day.

The bunny looks complete. 

And perfect, you exhale a breath from pride, slide the latte and call out the person’s order with a warm smile.

Then Jenna feels like a fool standing there because she just realized that she’s been staring at you making another person’s latte. Then you feel stupid for not sending someone over to serve her since you’re assuming that she wanted something.

“Sorry!” You apologize, smacking the top of your head as you lean across the countertop, “Hi Jenna, did you want something?” Jenna looks down at your lips for a moment, your teeth tugged on your bottom lip, then trails back up to the menu.

“No worries, I should’ve sat down, I just wanted to visit I guess. Sure. Um,” She doesn’t know what to get.

“Confused again huh?” You tease, looking at the menu then at the lattes. It makes her almost fan herself to know that you know she wants a latte today.

It takes a moment for you to think, “I don’t even think I put this up on our menu, but the other day when I was closing I tried a hazelnut caramel, you down to try that today?”

“That sounds pleasing, sure I’ll take that.”

“Okay, one hazelnut caramel!”

“Dude, I swear your cafe sells at least every pastry known to mankind. Those brownies and chocolate chip cookies look like it could make society salivatate.”

You laugh, “Thanks silly, I just experiment and make sure everyone in NYC can have a taste of home if they are from somewhere else. Sometimes I take my recipes from a past generation baking book, other times I just try baking from eyeing measurements.”

Jenna smiles at that, touching your hand with hers and pressing it down to the counter, “Well trust me, this is probably why you get a hell load of customers every morning.”

A light-hearted, non-forced, soft giggle comes from you, not moving your hand that is pressed from hers.

“As long as it makes others happy and continues a legacy while doing other things I love, and meeting sweet people that mark my memory like you, I think that I wouldn’t trade it. Did you want anything else?”

“I think that’s it today,” Jenna breathes, moving her hand away from yours. Immediately your hand misses the warmth and just wants to pull her back.

She can’t help but notice the smile plastered on your face, “Okay, hazelnut caramel coffee, on the house.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“Nuh uh, not on my watch,” Jenna insists, pulling out a 10 dollar bill and immediately you shoo her away.

“On me! Honest! I own this place anyways and it happens at least twice everyday, don’t worry about it love.”

She hears a small “aww” come from her phone and she freezes, her cheeks heating up in an instant.

“I’m paying you one day,”

“If it’s banterings and consistent times that I see you besides Tuesdays and Thursdays, then okay,” your voice echoes as you begin to prepare her latte.

Jenna smiles at you and as soon as she turns around she picks up her phone and curses into it, “What the hell Jas? How the hell did you manage to call me before I got into the shop and stalk into our conversation??”

Snorts and laughs come from the other line, she immediately plugs her earphones in.

“On the house, hmm??” Mason teases, everyone in unison going “ooh la la..” 

“I’m going to chop your heads off-”

“And of course you place your hands on top of hers!! It’s like watching the corniest romance in front of my eyes!”

It had only been 5 minutes that Jenna had talked with you, and somehow she still got stuck and caught by her friends.

“Shut up,” Jenna says, her voice soft, but grumpily as she scoffs.

Melissa, Mason, and Mindy are shouting from outside, she can hear them screaming through the phone.

“Hey,” you say softly, bringing her latte with two wrapped pastries in hand and slide it to her front, “Try the brownies and cookies you were looking at and tell me what you think?”

Jenna wants to keep her cool and to smile politely, but the three crazy people outside that are listening in are making it hard. Especially with all the kissing noises she can hear, so she takes out her earbuds and tosses them in her hoodie’s pocket.

It takes her a while to realize she didn’t buy the pastries that made her hungry.

“Seriously?” 

The way your cheeks curved upwards and your nose scrunched as you smiled made Jenna smile on the spot there, “Seriously,” you assured. 

“I hate you for this,” she says playfully, sarcastically.

“Who can hate two free pastries? That’s a win for me,” you pull the chair out, sitting down as you take a small break, exhaling.

There was a cute cat design on the hazelnut caramel latte, the steaming, sweet bitterness scent that wafts in the air makes Jenna shiver. She plays with the wrapping of the chocolate chip cookie before mumbling a soft, “Thank you.”

“Mmmhm, no problem.”

There's a quiet pause, Jenna sips her latte, looking up at you and seeing you giggle. It’s sweet, light, bitter, and perfect.

You hand her a napkin, there's a small white foaming mustache from the creamer.

It takes a moment as she takes the napkin before you speak again, “So, filming mm? Is it stressful, you know, having to wake up early and doing stuff like that?”

“Honestly, there are days where it can be too much and I need to wind down a bit. But I love seeing cameras and doing something that I have the fortunate privilege of doing, I know a lot of people don’t have that and it makes me grateful.”

You hum in response, nodding, playing with the nape of your shirt.

“I used to want to act and direct,” you smile.

“Really? Why not now?”

Your shoulders shrug, “I still do small stuff, holding cameras, auditioning for stuff, it’s just a little harder since I’m working here and making sure I can continue doing, you know, this. But I love working here, it heals something in me.”

It makes Jenna feel almost bad, not in an overly guilty way. She just can’t fathom feeling pressured to do something instead of going the way you want.

“You have coworkers, you don’t have to be here everyday, you know?” She tilts her head.

Her eyes meet yours, and again she sees those doe eyes, with nothing but something to make her own self melt.

But I'm in so deep

You know, I'm such a fool for you

You got me wrapped around your finger

Do you have to let it linger? 

“I know, sometimes I’m afraid this place will go haywire.”

She giggles at that, then thinks for a moment, “You know, I get on set tomorrow at 11, which is later than most days. Do you wanna, you know, just come and look around? The directors and producers are the sweetest people I know and they don’t mind a plus one. I would like, show you around and you can reach out to some people.”

It’s silent, your face is thoughtful as you’re processing what she said.

“I’ll stick by your side the whole time we’re not filming, introduce you to the cast, as long as you don’t do anything silly, which I highly doubt you might.”

“Okay, I’ll have to check in with Matteo, ask him to bring his sister that comes in on Saturdays and switch it to tomorrow.”

The brunette feels her heart flipping and she nods, burying her face in her hands to try and stop the redness that is invading her cheeks.

You come back soon later, beginning to talk about the plan of the coffee shop tomorrow, but Jenna gets distracted, it’s hard seeing Jasmine blowing her breath on the window, making hearts, then wiping the fog and seeing the way all her friends are making dreamy gestures to mock her. They’re all dancing and she wants to flip them off.

“I’ll be there tomorrow, could you by, um any chance, pick me up? I usually walk here and get my car repaired.”

Oh fuck, Jenna thinks, because she get’s picked up by Jasmine and tomorrow Melissa and Mason will be joining, like they do twice a week. She wants to face palm, she can almost picture the way when you make conversation with her in the car tomorrow, she’ll see in the corner of her eye Mason batting his eyelashes and sticking his tongue out.

“Sure, if you’re okay with some of my crazy friends.”

“Tomorrow it is,” you say, waving and ruffling your hair before waving and walking back to work.

Jenna looks down at her earbuds and she completely forgot she didn’t end the call, she just stashed it away, she’s bearing what is to come, putting her earbuds back in.

“SHE’S ASKING HER OUT ON A DATE” (Mason)

“NO WAY” (Jas)

“SHE’S A FOOL” (Jas)

“SHE’S GOING TO GET EMBARRASSED TOMORROW.” (Jas)

Not to mention the way they are waving their hands outside, she can almost hear the screaming from here.

“There’s no way in hell you asked this sweet pretty girl to come on set tomorrow,” Melissa sing-songs.

“Paws off,” she grumbles.

“She wants her for herself, of course.”

“Shut up!”

[moonstruckme]

no cause I was thinking…. reckless driving by lizzy is so james coded!!! so I wanted to ask if you could write something inspired by it with reader being a bit insecure about loving him loudly and he’s just like a walking „I love my gf“ sign

ily I hope you are having a great day/night🫶🫶

Thanks for requesting, love you!

modern au

James Potter x fem!reader ♡ 1k words

It’s beginning to frighten you how often you think of James. One of your friends will make a joke and you’ll catch yourself trying to remember it for him, or you’ll see a cute dog and want to send him a picture, or you’ll overhear a conversation in public and wish he were with you to press in close to your ear and ask Did you hear that? 

It’s sort of pathetic, really, considering you’ve only been dating a few weeks. The last time you’d met up you talked about how much you both loved the thin oreos, and when you saw a pack in the store yesterday you’d almost bought it for him. Only the realization of how much your life has started to revolve around him stopped you. 

You can’t be acting like James’ girlfriend. You’re only dating. It’s not like you love him—though you could, definitely, in time. But if you start doing girlfriend things, he’s going to think you are his girlfriend, and things will spiral out too fast for you to stop them. You have to dole out your affection in measured doses. Careful, controlled. 

You feel James enter before you see him. He holds the door to the coffee shop open wide, letting another woman exit before he steps inside, and the cool air that comes in with him has you turning your head. 

James is smiling as soon as he sees you. It’s a seemingly perpetual thing for him, this expression. You’re tempted to look out the window to the sidewalk and see if he’s left a trail of sunshine in his wake. 

“Hey,” he says, sitting down across from you. “You look really lovely.” 

You look exceedingly normal, but you thank him for the compliment anyway. “So do you.” 

“Thanks,” James says easily, like he gets this all the time (he probably does) but appreciates it nonetheless. He starts to dig in the tote he’s hung on the back of his chair. “I’ve brought you something.” 

You start to protest, but he anticipates you. 

“It’s tiny, don’t worry. Here.” 

He slides something crinkly across the table. It’s a pack of thin oreos. 

“Oh, no way! I almost…” You look up, meeting James’ eyes as your brain catches up to your mouth. Too late, you’ve blurted. You can hardly roll it back now. “I almost got a pack for you the other day, too.” 

He doesn’t seem to take your insensitivity to heart. In fact, his eyes light up. “Really! That’s so funny.” His hand remains still on the table but his fingers stretch towards yours, the barest of touches. “It was nice of you to think of me.” 

Your heart slumps. “I’m sorry I didn’t get them for you, though,” you say. “We should share these ones.” 

“Nope.” James leans back in his chair, crossing his arms. “Those are all you, love. Say, have you had a look at the menu?” 

You wince. “I’ve already ordered, actually.” 

“That’s alright,” he says breezily. “Back in a sec.” 

He stands and gets in line, leaving you to contend with the semi-awkward silence of being in the same place yet not speaking. Right as he finishes ordering, the barista calls your name. James looks like he might grab your drink for you, but you meet him at the counter, thanking the barista as you take it. 

“No problem,” she says with a smile. “Love your outfit, by the way.” 

You fluster a bit at the compliment, a break from the typical coffee shop dialogue you were prepared for, but James wraps a friendly arm around your waist and beams right back at her. 

“She’s got great taste, doesn’t she?” he asks, and you manage to cast a quick thanks over your shoulder as he steers you back to the table. “See, it’s not just me that thinks you look especially pretty today.” 

“Oh, hush,” you say, taking your seat and looking down to stir your drink bashfully. “What’d you order?” 

“Irish cream latte. Limited edition, apparently.” 

“So, the sweetest thing on the menu.” 

The smile spreads on James’ face. It ebbs and flows like the tide, you think, never really leaving. “You know me so well.” 

The warmth in his voice makes your chest feel hollow and achy. James goes to such lengths to do nice things for you, to show you that he pays attention and thinks about you and cares, and yet when it comes to you he’s left settling for whatever scraps of affection he can get. 

“James…” Your tone reveals your shift in mood instantly, and James’ head straightens the way a dog’s ears perk when it hears something alarming. “You know I want to take things slow, right?” 

He nods, and when he speaks his voice is considerately softer. “Yeah, you’ve said. Do you think we’re—I’m moving things too fast right now?” 

“No, just,” you wet your lips, having some trouble looking at his face, “I don’t know, I feel like I’m not being as good as you deserve. You’re such a sweet person, and I think…sometimes I feel like maybe you’d be happier dating someone who could be more all-in. You know?” 

For a second, the silence is torture. Then: “Someone you’re trying to set me up with, sweetheart?” 

You look up in surprise, but James is smiling again. Softer, now. Almost tentative. You find yourself mirroring him reflexively. 

His knee bumps yours under the table. “I don’t mind moving slowly with you,” he says. 

“Are you sure?” you ask. “Because you seem like you’re ready for more.” And I don’t know if I can manage that yet. 

“Yeah, I’m sure.” He takes your hand in his, and his eyes are soft, sweet caramel. He looks almost like he could love you. “If I’m coming on too strong, you can tell me, but I care about you. It’s hard for me not to be all-in, but that doesn’t mean I’m expecting the same thing from you. You seem like a sane, well-adjusted person.” James nods seriously. “Something I could use, I’ve been told.” He tries to keep the poker face when you grin, but fails in half a second. 

“Okay.” You give his hand a little squeeze. “Let me know if you change your mind, okay?”

“I won’t,” he says certainly. “I always go for the sweetest thing on the menu, remember?” 

You take your hand back to cover your face, and James’ laughter echoes off the walls. 

[harunayuuka2060]

Customer A: I want to get wasted tonight. Is MC on duty this evening?

The bartender: Yes, they are.

Customer B: No fair. I want to get drunk too.

The barista: I'm afraid MC can't take care of two people at once.

Customer C: They could. They took care of a party of five once. Though they brought us to a convenience store instead of going straight to our homes.

Customer C: Nevertheless, the service is fantastic. *about to take his drink when MC walks by and snatches it from him*

MC: Over the limit.

Customer C: No fair~!

The bartender: MC? Can you take care of these two ladies?

Customer A and B: You know our passcodes~.

MC: Ladies, I advise that you change your passcodes every now and then.

Customer A and B: But we trust you~.

MC: *sigh*

Their co-worker: *chuckles* Must be tough, huh? *helping them clear out a table*

MC: It wouldn't be if only our patrons knew how to exercise caution.

Their co-worker: You just need to learn to enjoy this. You get to hear free chisme from our customers and a huge tip.

Their manager: *approaches them*

Their manager: MC, I bought a new car for customer service. Here's the key.

MC: ...

MC: Manager, didn't you just buy a car last time?

Their manager: Yeah... But this one is yours actually.

MC: ...

MC: Why?

Their manager: Without you, my business won't be booming and I can't thank you enough. So please, PLEASE? Accept it. *puppy eyes*

MC: ...

MC: Guess I will...

Their manager and their co-worker: Yes!

The bartender: *laughing* Have they finally?

MC: *smiles behind their mask*

Vil's manager: Congratulations, Vil!

Vil: *has gotten an award for best villain actor* Thanks.

His manager: So, where do you want to celebrate?

Vil: I'm thinking of going to a nightclub.

His manager: A-A nightclub?! But Vil!

Vil: Don't worry. I won't be drinking.

Neige: I heard MC is working in a nightclub as a concierge.

Vil: ...

Vil: Why are you telling me this, Neige?

Neige: I know you have been looking for them too.

Vil: ...

Neige: We both miss them, right? *smiles*

Vil: ...

Vil: But we have one, small problem.

Vil: Is five years enough to clear the awkwardness between us?

[cottonlemonade]

Plan B

word count: 1015 || avg. reading time: 4 mins.

pairing: post-time skip!Kuroo x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, pining

warnings: none

synopsis: he is trying to convince you to go out with him

The café was in its typical morning lull when you came in. After the coffee rush of the business crowd and students on their way to class there were now only a few people seated comfortably around the small round tables, chatting idly and enjoying a piece of quiet in the hustle of a new Monday. This was your favorite time of the day. The early spring sun was shining happily through the large front windows, making the dark wooden walls appear as if dipped in honey. The smell of freshly brewed coffee mixing with the soothing scent of cookies, all amidst the faint sound of traffic humming underneath the soft clanking of spoons gave you a deep sense of calm.

After the daily round of hellos and how-are-yous, you put on your black apron and got to work in the kitchen, starting on the preparations for lunch.

“Manager?”, an hour later as you just put the finishing touches on a batch of orange drizzle muffins, one of your baristas poked his head through the door and gave you a look. You sighed and joined him in the front by the cash register. Sure enough the tall man waited for you, a wide grin across his handsome face.

“No.”, you told him before he even got the chance to say anything.

“And good morning to you, too.”

“No.”, you said again, beginning to prepare his usual order of simple green tea.

“Just one cup of coffee, we don’t even have to leave the premises.”

“400 yen, please.”

He counted out a small stack of coins on the counter and crossed his arms.

“Where is your cheer squad today?”, you asked, referring to his usual companions of a broad guy with spiky gray hair and a smaller one whose smile rivaled the sun in brightness. Needlessly supervising the last drops of hot water in the to-go cup, you made sure to add the exact amount of tea leaves to a little bag, just so you didn't have to look at him and his ridiculously confident smirk.

“Eh, I think they got tired of you rejecting me.”

“Interesting, any chance that’ll happen to you, too?”

“Sure, I’ll stop”, he slid over to where you were finishing up his order and lowered his voice, “when you stop blushing whenever I ask you out.”

He accepted his order with a wink. “Thank you. See you tomorrow.”

When the door closed behind him, you found your barista leaning against a counter with a cocked eyebrow.

“That makes seven!”, he announced, pointing to a small blackboard on the back wall where you usually wrote down the groceries needed that week. In the lower left hand corner he and the rest of the staff had begun to keep a tally of how often the guy had asked you out so far.

Seven times in three weeks. You smiled against your better judgment. You knew not to take him too seriously. Knew it was just a game to him. When he came in for the first time you had almost dropped a mug, because how could someone look this casually seductive?!

It wasn’t that you didn’t have the urge to say Yes just for the hell of it. But you weren't in the mood to be a short-lived plaything for a guy who probably only thought chubbies were easy. And thus began a regular routine of rejecting him. You didn’t know whether you actually wanted him to stop or if saying No to him had just become a reflex. A wise one probably.

Kuroo groaned and gently hit his head against his desk. Of course the thought that he might be an actual creep for asking you out so much had occurred to him but when he made his initial attempt, you had said Yes at first before immediately changing your answer to No. How on earth could he prove to you that he wasn‘t kidding when he told you that you were on his mind all day? Your smile, your voice, your exceptionally squishable body all brought new amounts of cute-aggression into his life.

At this point he was running out of options. Maybe… maybe he should just wait until you approached him instead - if you ever would, that was. He needed a new idea.

And so, one misguided day, he listened in on the gossip of his coworkers who talked about what mundane things they found attractive in a guy. And that’s how we got here:

Kuroo sat at a large four seater table in the corner of your café. Papers were strewn about, magazines lay open for references. He had loosened his tie and opened the top two buttons of his crisp white shirt; his reading glasses were pushed back onto his nose in regular intervals. It was warmer today. So warm that he had discarded his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, wristwatch glinting in the soft glow of the afternoon sun. He gave a little frown and absentmindedly bit his bottom lip as he consulted one of the articles, sometimes silently mouthing along to paragraphs he read, twirling the pen in his long fingers. He lifted a page to read the next, making a note on a separate sheet, the muscles in his forearm taut while he wrote.

He looked up at nowhere in particular, then closed his eyes and stretched his tired neck, the open shirt tightening around his broad shoulders, the line of his jaw highlighted by the golden light beaming through the large windows…

"Sir.", a waitress stepped professionally to the table, a towel neatly tucked in the waist cord of her apron, hands politely folded in front of her stomach.

"Yes?"

"The manager isn’t here today."

His cheeks started to burn, "Why- I mean… what?"

"And while we do appreciate what you do for the ambiance", a subtle gesture pointed out the girls, women and the barista staring, some even holding up their phone camera, giggling behind their hands, "this isn’t a library, so please order something or free the table."

"…O-of course."

[part 2]

[whatsk-poppinhomies]

Pairing : Lee Felix x F!Reader TW : very angsty ; fluffy in the beginning just to break everyone's hearts a little bit more ; death of a family member ; famous nana cliffhanger ; Word Count : 5.2k Request : @lovesunshinefelix : Write more angst 😵‍💫 GIVE ME THE ANGST 😭🧎‍♀️ A/N : Of course! Anything for you bestie!! This one might be a little bit self indulgent just slightly, but it's definitely gonna be sad. I love making angsty Felix fics!

“One iced americano, please.”

“Okay, and what’s the name for the order?” 

“Lee Felix.” 

“Mmn… It should be done in just a moment.”

“Thank you.”

Such a short interaction, but that’s how it all began. You were simply the barista at the coffee shop next door to the office, but in a matter of seconds, you had become so much more to him. Your sweet smile and the fairy lights that twinkled in your eyes as you looked at him. He was absolutely enamored by you. 

The craziest part was that he didn’t even like coffee that much, he had just been craving the taste of the drink. Is that why it felt all the more serious to him? Like it had been fate that brought him to you in the first place, but now it was you that kept bringing him back. 

“One iced americano, please.” 

“The name for the order?” 

“It’s Lee Felix.” 

“Alrighty, it should be done soon.” 

“I’ll wait here.” 

He wondered if you’d remember him if he came in every day. Would you remember his order or his name? Would you remember the way he’d smile at you whenever you spoke? Would you remember anything about him, or was he just another customer that you probably forgot about once the work day was done? 

He wanted it to be like that, he wanted to be a customer that you looked forward to seeing. He wanted your head to lift with every ring of the bell when the shop door would open. He wanted you to wait for his appearance, to see you smile when he finally came in. He wanted you to recognize him. 

“One iced-“ 

“Americano? Is it for a Lee Felix?” 

“Hm… Maybe I should switch up my order?” 

“It’s almost been two weeks, I can’t imagine having an iced americano every single day for that long.” 

“Well, what would you recommend?” 

“I’m not sure… I don’t really drink coffee.” 

“That’s ironic. You don’t drink anything here?” 

“Does the free water count?” 

“I’ll take a free water then.” 

It was the first time he had actually talked to you, but it was also the first time you had said his name in any way other than letting him know that his order was done, it was the first time that you had said his order without his having to really say anything at all. It was the proof that he needed to know that he was on the right track, he just had to keep going. 

You had laughed that day too, not one of those fake laughs that he had heard you give the other guys that would try to flirt with you… It was a genuine laugh, the sound so beautiful that it was on a constant loop in his head for the rest of the day. He couldn’t get you off of his mind, but he didn’t want to rush things. Even if he felt that things were going perfectly, he wanted you to feel the same way. 

“Two free waters and a croffle, please.” 

“Really changing it up now, are we? Are you bringing a date?” 

“Ah… Not exactly…” 

“Good, because I don’t think a woman would be very impressed with free water for a drink.” 

“But the woman doesn’t drink anything on the menu. I’m really going out on a limb here with the croffle.” 

“You can never go wrong with a croffle, they’re delicious. Why would you invite this woman to the coffee shop if you know she doesn’t like anything on the menu though?”

“Because this is the only place I get to see her, and I’m too shy to ask her for her number, so I just wanted to see if she wanted to have some free water and share a croffle with me.” 

“Oh… Is she here already?” 

“I’m looking at her…” 

He could remember vividly the way you froze, the way it felt when his stomach began its descent, thinking that you would turn him down. It took you so long to say anything, he wondered if he had completely blown it by being so forward. He had never been so nervous in his life, but then that smile appeared on your face and you let out the most beautiful laugh, the sound tinged with a certain shyness that he had never read from you before. Did he make you as shy as you made him?

Sitting across the table from you, he could feel it, you were meant for him and he was meant for you. He was a perfect mix of so many emotions, nervousness, shyness, happiness, he was everything balled up into one, but it made him feel alive. It was like he was standing on stage and performing for all of STAY, except there was no setlist, there was no particular script or order that he had to follow… And it was only your eyes on him… But it was just as amazing, if not more, because you were looking at him and only him, and you were there with just him. He was all yours, and you were all his. 

///

“If you could have your wedding anywhere in the world, where would it be?” He asked as you both laid on the blanket beneath the cherry blossom trees that were in full bloom. It was beautiful, the perfect spot for a date, although most people would say that he didn’t have to try as hard now that it’s been 5 months since the two of you have been together. He didn’t believe them though, because every single time he took you somewhere new, somewhere more beautiful than the last, your eyes would light up and that adorable smile would stretch across your face, and he’d question why he would give that up. 

You hummed in thought, and he wondered what your mind looked like right now. Were images of your dream wedding playing out behind your closed eyes? Was he the one standing across from you in those thoughts, dressed in a suit, tears in his eyes as he watched the woman of his dreams walk down the aisle to meet him at the end? “I think… Hmm… Well, I don’t really mind much, actually. As long as I’m there with the person that I love, that I want to spend the rest of my life with… The place doesn’t matter much at all.” How could you be so amazing? He asked himself that every single day. “What about you? Where would your dream wedding be?” 

He hummed softly, rolling over onto his side and propping himself up on his elbow, staring down at you with the most loving eyes. He knew for a fact that he had never loved someone as much as he loves you, and it was only bound to get stronger. “I’m sure that a lot of people would think that I’d want to get married on the beach somewhere in Australia since that’s where I’m from… But I feel like the beach is rather cliche, it gets done too much.” 

“I like the beach…” You murmured, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear, your fingers lingering against his cheek. “I think it would make for some beautiful pictures, don’t you?” He hadn’t exactly thought about it that way, but now that he heard your input, it was like his entire view had been changed. 

“The beach it’ll be then.” He said quite enthusiastically, his cheeks still flushed from where you had touched him. You just had the ability to send fire coursing through his veins and he loved the feeling of it, the warmth that it brought. 

You giggled softly, rolling your eyes at the sudden switch up. “What’s with the serious questions all of a sudden? Do you plan on getting married some time soon? You have to invite me to the wedding.” You joked, and he stuck his tongue out at you before dipping down and pressing his lips to yours. 

“The only wedding I want is the one where you’re meeting me at the end of the aisle.” He said much softer now, even his breaths were so quiet it was almost like he wasn’t breathing at all. “We have time though… I just wanted a general idea of what you’d want.” 

“Felix…” His name was like a breath from your lips, so gentle, so light that the winds that shook the blossoms off the trees would be able to pick it up and carry it away. 

“It’s okay, you don’t have to think too hard about it just now. I’ll make sure everything is perfect for you when the day comes.” 

“You’re crazy…” You murmured, and maybe he was. Maybe he was out of his damn mind to be planning a wedding with a girl that he had met at a coffee shop only five months ago. But to him it felt right, it felt like the only thing to do. He knew that all he wanted was you anyway, and he didn’t want to hide the way he felt for you. He wanted you to know that you were the only person he ever wanted in his life. 

“Mm… Maybe… You smell like coffee beans…” He teased, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck and taking a deep breath. “Is that… French Roast? Maybe… with a hint of vanilla?” 

You squealed, playfully pushing against his shoulders as you tried to squirm free. “Stop it! You’re the one who didn’t want to wait for me to go home and change when I got off!” You defended, but he thought it was so damn adorable. 

“I just like to see you, I didn’t want to wait!” He jokingly whined, dropping on top of you completely, his face still hidden, his lips brushing against your skin as he spoke. “You smell amazing, absolutely delicious, my coffee queen.” 

///

“Would you rather have your body and Bbokaris head, or the other way around?” You asked one night as you sat beside him on the couch. The question was most likely nothing more than a joke, but he wanted you to know that he listened to and thought about everything that you said, so he paused the movie that was playing on the tv and turned his body entirely toward you. 

“Would you still love me regardless of what my answer is?” He quizzed, his eyes searching deeply into yours for the answer, and you nodded your head so firmly that he knew you weren’t lying. You’d love him no matter what, and he would love you just the same. “I think I’d rather have his head, I don’t want to be any shorter… Or… Am I just a regular sized version of Bbokari? Is he me sized or am I him sized?” 

You snorted at the questions, your laughter still his most favorite sound in the entire world. He made a goal to make you laugh at least twice a day, if not more. “It would be the size of your skzoo plushy. It would be so cute though, wouldn’t it?! I could just carry you around with me everywhere I go! I’d never have to miss you!” 

Even though you were still giggling, your words made his heart flutter. Did you miss him when he wasn’t around? Did your heart ache like his whenever there was distance between the two of you? He always tried not to be too clingy. “You never have to miss me now, just text me and I’ll come to you always.” He draped his arm over your shoulder, tugging you closer to his side as he pressed a small kiss to your temple. 

“You have so much work to do, I don’t like bothering you. I would never call you away from practice or recording just to see you… Even if I want to.” You looked up at him, your smile pushing your cheeks up and squinting your eyes. Your eyes… He wanted to get lost in them for hours and hours, he wanted to live in them just for a moment, to see the world the way you do. What made you angry? What made you sad? He’s been with you for seven months now and he’s never seen you anything but happy. Was it because you were with him? Did he make all of your fears, your worries, your anger… Did he make it disappear? 

“I think even if I had Bbokari body I’d be in practice… Can you imagine?” Your head fell back once more as your laughter filled the room, he never wanted to stop hearing it. “Wait… Would my head shrink too, or would my head stay normal sized? I have so many questions!” 

You were laughing even harder now, wheezing even as you breathlessly tried to talk through fits of giggles. “Your normal head… Definitely… It would be so top heavy on the tiny body… Oh my gosh… Just picturing it… The Maniac move… With the…” You couldn’t even finish the sentence, bursting into a new fit of laughter, and now his mind was filled with the same image, and you both were laughing. 

It was nice to have someone to just laugh with, to goof around with. He felt so normal with you, he could have fun, he could be truly happy when you were beside him. That’s why he couldn’t let you go, why he kept thinking to a time somewhere in the future where you and him would both be on the beach in Australia, surrounded by your families and your friends, and he’d slip a ring onto your finger and promise himself to you for the rest of forever. 

///

“When was the last time I told you I loved you?” Felix asked over the phone, trying not to speak too loud. Sharing a hotel room wasn’t exactly hard, but he tried to be as respectful as possible to the guys who were trying to sleep while also trying to talk to you as much as he could. Time zones were always a pain in the ass, but they’re even worse now considering he couldn’t just not talk to you while he was away. 

“About five seconds ago.” You whispered, although there was no need for you to, he had your voice coming through his headphone so none of the other guys would hear you. “It’s so early in the morning for you… Aren’t you tired? I don’t want to keep you up all night.” 

“Mm… It’s worth it to talk to you.” He didn’t care if he was tired, he’d just sleep while getting his hair and makeup done, or he’d sleep in the car on the way to the next venue. “Have you eaten yet?” He quickly tried to change the subject, truthfully, he just wanted to hear you talk. He loved listening to you speak, he could lay in the hotel bed for hours with your sweet whispers filling his ears. 

“Not yet… I’m trying to think of what to eat.” The sound of your kitchen cabinets squeaking was heard and he chuckled softly, making a mental note to try to fix them or at least put some oil on the hinges so they wouldn’t be as loud. “Think I might just have a ramen bowl. It’s not as fun to do the dishes when I don’t have my designated drier.” 

Everything that the two of you did together was fun, it didn’t matter what it was. Whether you were going on dates or if it was something as mundane as doing the dishes or the laundry, if you were doing it together, that’s what made it enjoyable. “Well just let the dishes build up and we’ll have so much fun washing them together once I get back.” He teased, and he could just see the eye roll that came along with your soft snort as you tried to stifle your laughter. 

“I don’t think my sink is big enough for that many dishes.” You said between giggles, but your laughter was short lived as you let out a quiet sigh. “I miss you… So much…” Your voice was quieter now, almost to the point that he couldn’t hear you, and the only reason he could is thanks to the headphones. “Bbokari doesn’t hug me back the way you do… The bed is so empty and cold on your side… And the clothes that you left me are starting to lose your scent.” 

He couldn’t be more thankful that the two other guys in the room were already asleep because he could feel the tears pricking at his eyes as he listened to you. Felix missed you just as much, and he considered himself to be lucky because he wasn’t in a house that would feel so lonely if the roles were reversed. “I know, babe. I’ll be home soon, just wait for me. I miss you too… So much. I wish I could have snuck you here with me, I wish you would have packed yourself in my suitcase. We wouldn’t have to miss each other at all.” 

Now you both were crying, and he got up out of the bed as quietly as he could to make his way to the bathroom just to make sure he didn’t wake anyone up with his sniffling. “I love you, Lix…” Hearing you say it, no matter how many times he heard it, it was always like the first time. His heart would flutter and he’d feel all warm and fuzzy inside, and while this time was no different, there was an extra feeling of sadness that came along with it. 

“I love you too, babe… Don’t cry anymore, please? You’re too beautiful to cry… Smile for me, okay? And just always remember, I’m not gone forever, I’ll always come home to you.” 

///

2 months later and he was finally heading back home to you. The night before the flight he had stayed up just to talk to you on the phone, it sounded like you were crying again, but he assumed that the tears you were shedding were tears of happiness that he’d finally be returning to you. He’d be lying if he tried to say that he hadn’t shed a few tears himself at the thought of finally being able to hold you and kiss you again. 

He slept through the entire plane ride, and he hadn’t told you what time he’d be landing because he wanted to surprise you by showing up at your work. He wouldn’t say that he’s a hopeless romantic, but he couldn’t stop thinking about how romantic it would be to show up at your work with a bouquet of flowers. He could already see the shy little smile that would spread across your face, the flustered look in your eyes when you saw him walk through the door. 

When the plane finally landed, his excitement really kicked in. He didn’t want to wait to take his things back to the dorms, he didn’t even care to change his clothes or check to see how he looked. All he could think about was you. So he had the guys take all of his bags back to the dorms and he asked to be taken straight to the little coffee shop right beside the office… after stopping by a flower shop first though. 

“One iced americano, please.” His voice was cheerful as he practically waltzed through the door, the tiny bell above his head ringing out and announcing his entrance. The bouquet was hidden behind his back and he couldn’t help but smile wide as he looked around at the familiar scenery… They hadn’t changed anything in the months that he had been gone. 

“She’s not here.” One of the employees said, and Felix didn’t know whether to feel disappointed, humiliated, or both. He was sure that you would be there, you always worked on the weekdays, and it’s not like you had said anything about having your schedule changed. Maybe he should have let you know that he was on his way to the shop just so that you could have let him know that you weren’t there. 

“Oh… Well… Did her schedule change?” He asked rather sheepishly, and the girl behind the counter cocked her head to the side, her eyebrow raising. “What? Why are you looking at me like that? You didn’t fire her, did you?!” 

“She didn’t tell you, did she?” The girl leaned across the counter, and there was a look in her eye that made it clear to him that she found some kind of enjoyment in this, but he didn’t know what the hell she was talking about. “She went home. And I’m not talking about down the street. I mean, she hopped on a plane and went home. She was in a rush too.” 

The flowers fell to the floor, and he felt that he was going to be next if he didn’t keep himself steady against the counter. You… You didn’t even live in Korea… And you hadn’t told him that at all. He wouldn’t have even minded, as long as he knew that you’d always be his… But you just left. You left without saying anything to him. You left without warning, without reason. He didn’t even know what to do. 

For a moment, the world froze, time seemed to stop entirely, his mind reeling with what he could do, what he should do. Was he supposed to call you? Would you even answer him? Were you trying to run away from him? Had he done something wrong? He just couldn’t understand what he had done to make you leave without a message, a call… You had given him nothing when he wanted to give you everything. It wasn’t fair. Was he too clingy? Why didn’t you just talk to him? He would have done anything to just keep you, he would have changed completely if it meant having you still. 

“If you want to talk about it, I-“ The girl began, but he didn’t want to talk to anyone if it wasn’t you. She didn’t have the answers, she couldn’t tell him what he needed to know. He stormed out of the shop, taking a deep breath, the cold air catching in his throat and causing it to burn. He didn’t want to cry, but it seemed inevitable as the chill caught on the dampened streaks that coated his cheeks. Was there someone else? What was he to you that you could just give up so easily? How could you walk away without even a glance back, a second thought? He couldn’t let you do this, he just couldn’t. He was going to get an answer, whether you planned on giving it to him or not.

///

“Tell me more about your time in Korea. Tell me about that boy you met.” Your grandmother said hoarsely, her frail hand reaching out to grab yours. “You smile when you talk about him. I like seeing you smile.” 

“Gran… You really need to rest now.” You whispered, holding her hand in both of yours to try to warm it up. She always felt so cold now. “I’ll tell you all about it, I’ll tell you all about him when you wake up. I’ll be here.” Your thumb brushed along her knuckles, her skin wrinkled and thin, but to hold her hand was such a comforting thing, to be there beside her. 

She didn’t argue, she simply settled against her pillow, using her free hand to pull up her blanket a little higher as she kept her other hand between yours. She was weak, she was sick, and when you had gotten the call from your father that she was being moved from the hospital and being put into hospice, there was nothing that would keep you from being by her side. 

It was late, 11 o’clock at night, a little past that even, and everyone had gone to bed in their respective guest rooms. Everyone but you, still jet lagged and running on Korean time. You were wide awake, and you knew that a part of you refused to fall asleep just so that you’d have a little more time with your grandmother, even if it was just sitting beside her while she was sleeping. It might be all the time you have left with her, and a part of you felt guilty for being gone the past year, before she got really sick, before things came to this. You knew that she would have wanted you to live your life though, to find happiness, to find someone that you loved, someone who loved you back just as much. And you had found that, you had found all of those things in Felix, and you felt terrible for leaving the way you did, but you were in such a hurry, you were hoping he’d understand. 

11:56pm, four minutes to midnight and your phone rang on the nightstand table beside your grandmother’s bed. Felixs name was at the top of the screen and you quickly answered it, taking one last look at your grandmother before leaving the room to stand in the hallway, not wanting to risk waking her up while talking to him. “Lix…” You sighed out his name, and there was a sense of relief being kept at bay long enough for you to hear his voice, and you knew that once you did, you’d feel slightly better. 

“You left.” He began, and that relief never set in, instead there was just dread and more guilt stacked on top of the already existing emotion. “An entire year, and I didn’t even hear it from you, I heard it from one of your coworkers that you don’t even live here… And the worst part is that I didn’t even hear about it until you were already gone.” 

“I know that you’re angry, you have every right to be… But can you just listen to me, please?” You begged as quietly as you could, leaning against the wall in the hallway and slowly sinking to the floor. 

“I do have the right to be angry, and I won’t listen. You had almost 365 days for me to sit and listen to you so that maybe I’d understand what you did… But not now. It’s too late for explanations and I don’t want to hear your excuses either.” 

He sounded so angry, you had never heard him get mad before, and while you would have gotten angry right back, you were too busy being devastated. You needed him, you needed him more than anything right now, but he wasn’t even listening to you. On top of being sad, you were confused, you did live in Korea, just because you weren’t originally from there didn’t mean that you weren’t living there. “Why did you call… If you’re just going to yell at me and not listen to what I have to say… Why would you call me?” 

“You basically walked out on me… No… You did worse… You left the damn country. You’ve broken me, I can’t believe you’re the one even crying right now.” You clasped your hand over your mouth to try to muffle the sound of your sobs just so he wouldn’t point them out. “You know what… I don’t have anything else to say to you. I hope you enjoyed your year, you can go tell everyone about how you broke my heart, I’m sure you’ll be real popular for that. Bye.” You didn’t know what the hell he was on about, you didn’t know where the assumptions even came from, but they only managed to hurt worse. 

You were left in silence, your heart in shambles as you sat in the dark hallway, the only light coming from the cracked bathroom door at the end of the hall. You were shrouded in sadness, you had just lost the love of your life, the man that you planned on spending the rest of your life with, and you were about to lose your grandmother. Was there anything else that life would throw at you? 

///

It had been a week since the phone call, and while he had been angry then, the anger had slowly worn off and turned into a sadness spurred by the loneliness that he felt without you there. Hell, he would have been fine just talking to you on the phone, hearing your voice or seeing you through a video call. There was too much shame though, too much regret. He had lost his temper with you, and while the call had initially been to figure out why you had left, he hadn’t even let you talk long enough to tell him. 

He tried to not let it bother him, he tried to focus his mind on anything else, but whenever he’d go to the office, he’d have to go past the little coffee shop and it was a constant reminder of you, of when things had first begun. He felt like a fool, an absolute idiot, and now he didn’t even know how you were doing. He still loved you, and he wanted nothing more than to tell you those three words and hear them back, but now he was too scared to even try to contact you. 

So he watched your social accounts, waiting to see an update of any kind. You hadn’t blocked him, which was either a good sign, or a sign that you hadn’t been online in a while and he didn’t know how to feel about that thought. The last post you had made was from a week before he had left for tour, a picture of the two of you sitting at your table in the coffee shop, sharing a croffle with your free waters, a perfect recreation of your first date. 

His notifications were on for whenever you did post, just so that he could be the first person to like the picture or an update, but it had been so long since you posted that he rarely even checked the notifications to see if it was you. Today had been a rare occurrence where he had already been looking at his phone when you did post, and while it was only an instagram story update, he immediately clicked on it. 

“I’ll miss you Gran… I love you so much.” The text read under a picture of an older woman, her eyes wrinkled in the corners, a sign that she smiled a lot, and her smile was just like yours, he could see it in the picture. She was a happy woman, he could tell that she was loved, and that she had loved just as much. As he looked at the picture longer though, it set in, the realization… You hadn’t left him, not because you wanted to… You had to go home, you had to be there for her, for your family… And he had gotten angry with you for that… He hadn’t even let you explain. 

“Oh… Fuck!” He hissed, quickly closing out of instagram and opening his phone, his thumb hovering over your contact. He wasn’t sure how he’d go about apologizing, he didn’t know how the phone call would go even if you did answer, but he had to try. He had to at least say sorry if nothing else, so he called you, and he waited for it to go to voicemail, but then he heard silence… and then a shaky breath… You were crying. “Y/N… Babe… Are you there?” 

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[haikyu-mp4]

Nervous laughter

word count; 1190 – gn!reader, meet cute

You’re generally considered very attractive, and some would even say the cafe you work in has gained more popularity since you started working there. Your smile lights up the room, you have fun quips with the customers and you make some decent coffee. However, if you ask one of your friends why you are still single, they might say it’s because you can be a bit clumsy. Scratch that, very clumsy. And you also have this fun quirk when you get nervous. You laugh! So much! It’s an unfortunate combination, really, but you’ve survived so far.

It’s not a very busy time, but enough people were coming in and out that you’re going on auto mode. You were making drinks, serving them, greeting customers and clearing tables all at a slightly faster pace. As you pass by one of the other baristas, you throw them a high five before picking up the next coffee, walking right out past the bar when your whole routine is disturbed. If only you had been more cautious, which you tell yourself every time. Someone stepped in your path and now you’ve spilled coffee on their crisp white shirt and the cup you were supposed to give to a customer was shattered on the ground.

Kuroo had a bad day. It wasn’t the worst one he’s ever had, but nothing seemed to be going quite right. He loves his job, but that doesn’t stop him from feeling like some days were tougher to get through and on those days, he couldn’t wait to get home. A forgotten meeting, a stubbed toe and a rejected opportunity are only a few of the things he dealt with already. However, he still had to meet Bokuto later so he decided his only bet was a good cup of coffee. His hair looked a little more dishevelled than usual as he stepped inside the little cafe he found, moving towards the back of the room so he could go to the toilet and maybe try to fix his hair before taking a break with his coffee. Unfortunately, he didn’t get that far.

Now he’s staring down at his ruined shirt, then looking up at you in disbelief, already prepared to somehow convince you that it’s okay even though it’s not.

But you’re full-on laughing. Leaned over, hands on your thighs, and laughing!

This is simply outrageous. He huffs but blinks in surprise when he realises he’s actually smiling. Your laugh sounds so nice, it’s like a superpower that distracted him from anything else that wasn’t as nice.

“I am SO sorry!” you gasp out through your laughter, finally squatting down to pick up some pieces of the cup before standing up to look at him with light tears in your eyes.

“You sure don’t sound very sorry!” he answered, raising an eyebrow at you as your laughter finally started to die down. He looked around, making people whip their gazes back to what they were doing before so he wouldn’t see how everyone was staring at the possible meet cute.

“Please, can I replace your shirt or something? Or wash it for you?” you suggest, cheeks heated up from embarrassment, attention and laughter.

He huffs. “Can’t really wash it unless you want me to take my shirt off right here,” he said, growing more confident when he realised you were actually nervous.

“Are you offering?” you asked without thinking, making the two of you stare at each other before you burst out laughing again, waving your hand in front of your face to cool it down. “Forget I said that, I need to clean this up but please stick around for a moment, if you can?”

He looked at his wristwatch for effect, thought about it for a moment and then agreed. “Fine, but you better get me a fancy coffee while I wait.”

“Of course, it’s on me.”

So he sat there for a while, sipping on the coffee you brought him. It was something he hadn’t tried before, and it seemed to loosen his headache in the weirdest way. Coffee isn’t supposed to do that. Maybe it had something to do with the way you smiled and pursed your lips when you handed it to him, seeming like you had to keep yourself from laughing nervously again. It made him scoff in disbelief, but it wasn’t in a malicious manner at all. Perhaps rather affectionately.

Kuroo looks up from his phone when you finally come to sit down, then back at his phone to tell Bokuto he would be a little late before pocketing the phone altogether. “This coffee is really good,” he commented. “What is it?”

“I have no idea, I begged my coworker to make something that said ‘sorry for ruining your shirt’ to a handsome guy,” you said, sheepishly rubbing your neck. Kuroo smiled in disbelief, somehow finding you even more interesting every minute he spent with you.

“Don’t worry about it, I have more shirts,” he said, shrugging it off. “But maybe you’d let me take you out this weekend?”

“I know I ruined your shirt, but at least tell me your name first.”

A little over 1 year later.

Kuroo brought you along to a friend’s party, if you even called it that at your age when friends got together to catch up and brought their partners or complained about their lack thereof.

He used to be one of the latter. Some even witnessed him make puke-like sounds when someone kissed, usually earning him a punch in the arm. But now he’s watching you with heart eyes as you look around for him after exiting the kitchen. Your face lights up as your eyes find him, lifting your hand to give him a wave before making your way over, but you don’t get that far. Akaashi was exiting the kitchen with a plate of fruit and your hand knocked into it. Thankfully, he managed to hold onto the plate, but half the fruits he had arranged so nicely slid right off to the floor.

Kuroo was clutching his stomach for dear life as he laughed like a hyena, and it clashed so badly with your nervous laughter that kept bubbling from your throat as you leaned your hands on your thighs and tried picking up grapes at the same time.

Everyone else were just watching you, shaking their heads in amusement as Kuroo finally walked over to kiss your cheek and calm you down. You’ve been together for about a year at this point and all his friends – who are now your friends too – know this scene by now. As you catch your breath, you apologise to Akaashi who just waves it off with a smile and goes back in the kitchen to get more. Your boyfriend helps you throw away the fruit that couldn't be eaten anymore before leading you out on the balcony for some air.

Kuroo never really believed in destiny, but he’s sure you were made to be with him. After all, he just left Bokuto’s side right after asking if 1 year is too early to propose.

masterlist

[skzstannie]

"I'll take care of you"

SKZ-> Felix x Reader

genre: angst, hurt/comfort, stranger to lovers wc: ~3,100 cw: Abusive/toxic boyfriend, yelling, violence, Felix is literally the biggest sweetheart

summary: you'd never expect the coffee shop down the street to be your saving grace, but a certain sunshine had other ideas

A/N: Hellooooo! I reached 200 followers today, so THANK U AGAIN! Should I do something special for it?

Part 2 is now posted!

Happy Scrolling! | Masterlist

"Baby, please," you sob, your cheek throbbing in pain.

"Don't 'baby' me, you know this is what happens when you don't do your chores." His smirk is villainous as he stands over you. "Don't be a bitch! Get up and go do what you were supposed to do," he seethes, making you flinch.

You slowly get up off the floor, brushing yourself off as you stand. You feel his eyes on you as you scramble into the kitchen.

You forgot to do the dishes again. You should've known better than to forget; you know he gets like this every time. You don't necessarily blame him, though. He does so much for you, and you can't even remember to do a simple household chore.

You scrub the plates clean, the hot water burning against your skin. His footsteps echo into the room, coming closer to you.

His hands wrap gently around your waist, holding you close. "You know I don't like to hit you, baby. Why can't you just listen?"

"I'm sorry. I'll be better for you," you tell him as you lean back into his touch.

"I know you will be."

~ ~ ~

"One medium Iced Americano!"

You stand from your seat in the coffee shop, making your way towards the counter to grab your drink.

The cafe is crowded, the queue at least 10 deep. You squeeze past people, muttering the occasional "Excuse me" as you pass.

You're disappointed when you get to the counter, seeing your drink nowhere to be found.

"Excuse me," you call out to the barista behind the counter, "What happened to my drink? The Iced Americano?"

"Oh, some guy just took it. It was yours?" she asks distractedly, another cup already in her hand as she pours coffee into it.

"Yea..." you trail off, your eyes scanning the shop for the drink-stealer.

"I'm sorry about that, I'll whip you up another one. What size would you like?"

"Medium, please." The barista nods her head and gets to work. "Thank you so much."

You sit down at a table near the counter to wait. Your mind starts to wander, thinking about all the work you have to catch up on this week. You're an editor for the local newspaper, and your boss decided to dump a bunch of stories on you last minute. While they weren't set to be published for another few weeks, you were incredibly meticulous with your work, so it usually took you longer than necessary to get through them.

You're brought of your thoughts by a boy walking up to your table. "I'm sorry, but I think I accidentally took your drink. My friend ordered a large iced Americano, and I think this is the medium." His cute face is twisted in an apologetic expression.

"That's ok, she's making me a new one. No worries," you reassure him, giving him a soft smile.

"Oh good, sorry again." You expect to him to walk off, your original drink in his hand, but he continues to stand in front of you, his eyes never leaving yours. It's a little uncomfortable, and you're about to get up to avoid the awkward tension when he speaks again.

"Mind if I sit? You look like you could use some company."

You hesitate to answer. If your boyfriend found out you let some random man sit with you, he'd freak out.

"I was actually just about to head out. I have to get back to my boyfriend," you answer, deciding that rejecting his offer was for the best.

"Here you go miss, one medium Iced Americano," says the barista. Her arm is stretched over the counter, your drink in hand.

"Thank you so much," you immediately stand, stepping around the man to grab it.

As you go to step away, the man stops you, "My name's Felix by the way. I've seen you around here before." His eyes twinkle from the dingey lights overhead.

"I'm Y/N," your lips morph into a smile at his kindness.

"I'll see ya around?" there's a questioning twinge to his voice, a hint of hope peaking through.

"Sure. See ya around, Felix." With that, you walk towards the exit, heading back home.

~ ~ ~

"What took you so long?" your boyfriend's voice booms through the house as soon as you open the door.

"Someone else took my drink, so I had to wait for them to make me another," you explain, hopeful that you're calm energy will have the same affect on your boyfriend.

"You think that's a good enough excuse?! For all I know you could've been cheating on me! What am I supposed to think when you're gone for so long?!" he yells, his heavy footsteps approach you quickly from the living room.

"Babe, I promise it was nothing like that," you panic, your eyes darting around the foyer for an escape.

"Next time," he's in front of you now, his face red in anger, "tell me if you'll be longer." His rough hand reaches towards your face, roughly grabbing your jaw between his fingers. You wince, sure it'll leave yet another bruise. "Got it?"

"Yes," you mumble, your jaw stinging from his tight grasp.

"Good." He releases your face and wipes his hands on his pants, like he's disgusted by you.

You hurry off to your bedroom, quietly closing the door behind you.

~ ~ ~

It's been a couple weeks since you've been able to stop by the cafe. Your boyfriend's been stricter since the last coffee incident, not letting you leave the house without him.

"Hi Y/N!" your eyes glance above your computer screen, meeting the happy face of the man you met the last time you came here. What was his name again?

"Hi..." you say, hoping he'll fill in the blank.

"Felix!"

"Oh yea," you chuckle, embarrassed by your forgetfulness, "Sorry, it slipped my mind."

"That's ok!" You're heart warms, his bright and happy personality filling the emptiness of the coffee shop. "May I sit?" He gestures to the chair across from you.

You think on it for a moment. You really need to finish this article, but you guess a little break won't hurt. "Sure."

You didn't know it was possible, but his smile turns brighter at your answer. "Thanks!" He pulls the chair out and sits. It's silent between you for a minute, and you go back to typing away on your computer. "What are you working on?"

"I'm an editor for the newspaper, so I'm just finishing up this story," you reply.

"Oooh, that's cool? Do you like being an editor?"

You and Felix hit it off right away. He asks you more about your job, and you love the way he genuinely seems interested in what you have to say.

You ask him a few questions about himself, too, and you find out he's in a band with his friends.

"That's so cool!" You've finished you're article by this point, and you're nearing the end of your coffee, as well.

His eyes light up as he talks about his friends. They sound like an interesting bunch from all the stories he tells you.

"And then," he stops, letting out an adorable giggle, "he fell right on his ass, in front of everyone!" He laughs again and you join in. Something about Felix's aura just makes you feel so comfortable around him, like you've known him forever.

You both quiet down, and you become a little uncomfortable under his intense gaze. His eyes focus on your chin.

"What happened to your chin?" It's obvious he doesn't mean any harm with his question, pure curiosity taking over his features. However, the attention to your bruises makes you severely uncomfortable, and you instinctually look to flee.

"Oh, it was nothing," you think for a second, trying to come up with an excuse, "I'm just clumsy and hit my chin on my nightstand. No biggie," you tell him distractedly as you hurry to pack up your things.

His eyes widen at your panicked movements. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry," he apologizes, standing up as well.

"It's ok, I actually had to go anyway," you lie, swinging your bag over your shoulder. "I'll see you around." You quickly make your way out of the cafe, not even giving him a chance to say goodbye. He stands there with a slight tilt to his head, watching you rush out of the shop.

~ ~ ~

Weeks go by before Felix has the chance to talk to you again. He waits for you on your usual days at the cafe, hoping to see your familiar figure walk through the door, but you never do.

His eyes light up one particular Monday morning as you walk through the door, the little bell dinging, alerting the employees someone came in.

His smile falters a little upon seeing the man holding your hand. You're expression is stiffer than normal, your lips pursed in a tight line, replacing the bright smile you usually wear.

Felix watches as the man orders for both of you. "One medium iced Americano and a small Hazelnut latte," he says.

The man looks nothing like he thought your boyfriend would look. His eyes are cold and emotionless, practically burning holes in the side of the barista's face. Felix doesn't miss the way he rudely tosses the money onto the counter, not even gracious enough to hand it to the cashier.

Felix's gaze shifts down to your hands, your boyfriend's grip looking unnecessarily tight around your small hand. He notices the way your fingers are white from lack of circulation, and his blood boils.

Felix manages to catch your wandering gaze, your cheeks heated in embarrassment from the way your boyfriend was treating the staff.

He gives you a small wave, the corners of his lips upturned.

Your eyes widen at his show of friendliness, and you give him the smallest of head shakes. Your expression conveys, "Please don't say anything to me", and his heart clenches at this. Who does this guy think he is?

As much as Felix wants to go up to you and rip his hand from yours, it's clear you don't want him to acknowledge you right now. He knows it is because of the man next to you, and he begins to wonder if those bruises he saw on your chin weeks before weren't from your clumsiness after all.

~ ~ ~

"You never order anything when you're here. Why is that?"

It's a nice, sunny Monday morning, and you and Felix sit in the corner of the cafe.

"I don't actually like coffee much," he chuckles, his face flushing in embarrassment. You raise your eyebrows at that, waiting for him to continue. "I just like the atmosphere here, and now I come for you, too!"

Now it's your turn to blush, a pink shade creeping up your neck. "For me?"

"Yea, I figured we're friends now, and I like to spend time with you." his voice is deep and charming as he speaks, his eyes soft.

Friends aren't something that have come easy to you. Your boyfriend rarely lets you go places by yourself. Work is the main exception, and after some begging a few months prior, he allows you to come to the coffee shop by yourself, too.

Being friends with Felix sounds nice. It's been months since you first met, and most weeks you both sit at the same table, you working on your articles and him doing various other activities. Sometimes he'll bring a book to read, other times he'll just play on his phone until you're finished working.

The silence sits between the two of you as you think, and Felix worries he's made you uncomfortable. "I mean- we don't have to be, like friends, or anything. I just thought-"

You cut off his rambling, a smile gracing your lips, "I'd love to be friends with you Felix."

His shoulders slump in relief, and he gives you a relaxed smile. "Oh good, I was worried I'd scared you off."

"You're practically the nicest person I've ever met. How could you possible scare me off?" you laugh.

"I know I can come off a little strong sometimes, but I'm just a friendly guy, and I like your company," he explains to you, and you can't help but agree with everything he says.

That first day he talked to you he did seem a little overzealous. Now, after hanging out with him numerous times, you know that's just him, and you're ok with that. You love how Felix is able to bring a little sunshine into your life, even if it's only for a few hours every week.

"Well, don't worry about it. I wanna be your friend, too, and I like hanging out with you just as much," you assure him.

"Perfect! As my first duty of being your official friend, I have to ask you to stop lying to me," his voice goes serious, the light in his eyes dimming.

Your breath falters a little at this. "What do you mean?" you try to play it off, taking a swift drink of your coffee. You know he's not stupid; anyone with eyes can see the various bumps and bruises that litter your body.

"All these bruises... nobody's that clumsy, Y/N."

The familiar urge to escape fills your body, and panic bubbles in your throat.

"Felix," you choke out, your gaze lingering on your hands nervously rubbing against your pants. Tears gather in your eyes.

No one has ever confronted you about this. You pushed your family away long ago; it was upon your boyfriend's request, but who were you to tell him no? You've not been close with someone since then. You had friends before, but after so many unanswered texts, they just stopped texting. Stopped calling. Now their contacts sit in your phone as constant reminders of what used to be.

Felix's heart softens as your eyes well with tears, but he stands his ground. If he was going to be your friend, he couldn't let this slide any longer. "No more lies."

"Felix, I can't," the anxiety becomes too much, and you're quick to run out of the cafe, leaving your bag and coffee sitting on the table.

Felix quickly gathers your things and follows you out, earning a few curious glances from the people standing in line.

His eyes find your form, speed-walking down the sidewalk in the normal direction you leave in. "Y/N, please wait!" he calls after you, jogging to catch up.

He only has to run for a few seconds, catching up to you quickly. He reaches out to grab your elbow, and he immediately recoils upon seeing the way you flinch at his touch.

You stop walking, knowing there's no point in running anymore. Your head hangs low, your gaze permanently set on the ground in front of you. You allow Felix to guide you towards a secluded bench, sitting on the side of one of the buildings.

Felix's body immediately kicks into comfort mode upon seeing the tears flowing down your face. He softly sets his arm around your shoulders. You don't flinch, so he takes that as his sign to wrap you up into a hug, pulling you further into his body.

You continue to cry into his shoulder, not sure how else to deal with the emotions that overwhelm you.

"Y/N," he whispers as he rubs your back, "Can you look at me for a second?"

You raise your head from his shoulder, your eyes glossy with unshed tears.

"Please let me help you," he begs, his arms firm around your body.

"Felix, I can't," your sobs return, your arms leaving Felix to cover your face.

"Y/N, you've let him control you long enough."

Your lips wobble, and you don't know what to say. You've dated your boyfriend for years; he's all you know, all you have.

You've listened to his verbal abuse for so long, his words constantly swimming in your head:

"No one else will love you like I do."

"Nobody cares about you."

"Your family and friends left you, but not me. You can trust me."

His physical abuse marks your body. Old scars litter your arms and legs, bruises coloring your jaw and neck. You're always aching, different parts of your body always healing. You know your body needs a break.

"I know you probably feel stuck, like you have no one to go to," Felix continues, hoping that there's room in your cluttered mind for his words to get through to you, "But I'm here now. I'll help you. I won't let him touch you anymore."

Your mind is full of every emotion imaginable.

You know you can trust Felix. The problem isn't whether or not you can trust Felix. After all these months, he's proven to be one of the greatest people you've ever met. He's kind, loving, caring; everything you're boyfriend is not.

No, the problem isn't whether you can trust Felix; he's one of the most trustworthy people you've ever met. You just don't know how.

"Please, Y/N, I can't sit by and continue to watch you walk into the cafe with new bruises every week. I'll help you get out of this mess; you don't have to stay with him anymore."

Felix's pleas swirl around in your mind. The kindness he emits mixes with the words of your boyfriend like oil and water. If Felix was ice, your boyfriend would be fire; the two polar opposites in every way.

"That boyfriend of yours is no good for you," you remember your mom telling you. It was one of the last conversations you had with her before he made you cut all contact with her.

Maybe she was right. Maybe it is time for a change. Felix has always made you feel safe, like you could tell him anything. He could help you.

"It's your call, don't let him think he has power of you. All you have to do is tell me, and it'll be taken care of. I'll take care of you, Y/N."

You sit in silence for a few moments, nothing but the sounds of your sniffles filling the air.

The cold wind whips past your clouded head, bringing you back to reality. You finally gain the courage to look up at him, and his eyes have never looked softer.

"Please help me, Felix," you sob, your hands going to grip his hoodie as you lay your head against his chest. Your ear presses against his heart, the gentle beat soothing you better than words ever could.

"Oh, sweet girl," he whispers, running his hand through your hair. He's holding you so tight now, like he never wants to let you go. "You'll never have to see him again. I've got you now, nobody will hurt you anymore."

Part 2

[hayleythesugarbowl]

your spencer fic actually knocked the breath out of my lungs can you please do like some sort of continuation?? first dates, learning each other better, waking up in each other's arms, tracing tattoos??

Cool Shoes: Part 2 || Spencer Agnew x reader

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ masterlist • smosh masterlist • part 1 ⋆˚｡⋆୨୧⋆

summary: now that you’ve both admitted your feelings for each other, spencer takes you out on your first official date

word count: 2.8k

warnings: implied smut, innuendos

a/n: we’re back baby! you guys liked cool shoes and i’m so grateful for all of the love i’ve gotten on that post 🤭 so i give you part two. really hoping this doesn’t fall victim to sequel syndrome lmk what you think!!

<— previous part •  some more spencer fics —>

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“And here we are. Prepare to have your mind blown.”

     Spencer gestured to a Famous Footwear building, stopping you both in front of it.

     You hadn’t known where he was taking you—until now. 

     “I can’t believe you were serious about the shoe store thing,” you put your hands on your hips.

     “And what made you think I don’t take footwear seriously?”

     “Exhibit A,” you gestured to the shoes he was wearing.

     “I thought you said they were cool,” he pouted.

     “I just said that cause I thought you were cute, remember?” You told him.

     “Yeah, I know,” Spencer beamed, “I just wanted to hear you say it again.”

     You whacked him in the arm.

     This was your first official date with Spencer and you still had no idea what you were actually doing—assuming the shoe thing was just an elaborate joke. Spencer had just told you that your destination was a surprise and that you’d just have to wait and see. 

     It had been a week since you’d asked Spencer out and you had been looking forward to this evening ever since. 

     Now, you turned to him, crossing your arms. 

     “Ok, but seriously—do you wanna tell me where we’re actually going?”

     “Not particularly,” Spencer shrugged, starting to walk away. 

     “Spencer,” you whined, jogging to catch up to him.

     “Alright fine,” he held up his arms, “Come on.”

     He held out his hand and you took it, walking down the sidewalk past restaurants and office buildings.

    Suddenly, Spencer let go of your hand and placed both his hands over your eyes.

     “Ok, almost there,” he said, guiding you a few feet forwards. 

     He stopped walking and lifted his hands from your face. “Ta-da!”

     You were standing in front of a cute cafe. One you recognized.

     “I know you said you always wanted to try this place, so I thought we’d check it out,” he said, “If that’s okay with you.”

     You were touched that he had even remembered you mentioning the cafe. You smiled at him. “That’s great with me.” 

     Spencer opened the door for you and you walked towards the counter, eyeing the menu immediately.

     A barista appeared from the back, “Hey, welcome in! What can I get started for you two?”

     “I’ll have the—” You started.

     “Wait, let me guess!” Spencer stopped you, looking at the menu thoughtfully. “Macchiato?”

     “Cappuccino,” you corrected, telling the barista before turning to Spencer. “But nice try.”

     “Well, I’ll have a macchiato,” Spencer ordered. “Because unlike you, I have taste.”

     The woman rang up your total and Spencer got out his wallet. 

     “Let me at least pay for half,” you started. 

     “No, no,” Spencer batted your hand away, giving the barista his card. “You save that for decent sneakers.”

      Spencer finished paying and you walked over to find a table, Spencer right behind you.

      You had only been sitting down a moment when the barista brought your drinks to the table, setting the coffee mugs down before turning back to walk away.

     She mouthed ‘he’s cute’ as she passed you, a smile of encouragement on her face.

     You couldn’t argue there. Spencer did look really freaking cute. He had on a light purple button down with a denim jacket over it, his pants a darker shade of denim, obviously putting effort into his appearance for this date.

     You couldn’t believe he did all this for you. It was still so surreal.

     “So,” Spencer began, taking a sip of his coffee. “Let’s talk work on Monday. I sent a raw copy of the schedule for for next show, and I’m going to need you to finalize that.”

     You groaned, even though you knew he was only teasing. “Can we not talk about work right now?” 

     “What kind of boss would I be if I didn’t encourage my employees work ethic?”

     “The kind that goes out with his assistant,” you said. 

     “Fair point. What do you wanna talk about then since work is off the table?”

     “Well,” you started, “I guess we cold get to know each other better. It is a first date, after all.”

     You’d known Spencer for a month or so now, but there was still a lot you didn’t know about him. And vice-versa.

      “Ok,” he said. “What do you want to know?”

     “Alright,” you thought. “What color is your toothbrush?”

     Spencer snorted. “What kind of first date question is that?”

     “Don’t tell me you don’t own one?” 

     “It’s green,” he answered. 

     “I think you’re lying,” you took a sip of your coffee. “You totally don’t own a toothbrush.”

     “Hey, I’ll prove it to you if you’d like,” he raised his arms, “I have nothing to hide.”

     “Prove it to me how?” You crossed your arms. 

     “I’ll show you later,” he paused. “When we head back to my place.”

     Spencer looked down at the table, playing with the handle on his coffee mug.

     Your pulse picked up ever-so-slightly. You hadn’t even considered that you’d be going anywhere after this. Especially to Spencer’s.

     Not that you didn’t want to. You’d been planning on meeting him there for a work project later that week anyways. But this felt…different. More intimate, somehow.

     “I look forward to it,” you answered finally. 

     Spencer looked relieved that you didn’t oppose the going-to-his-place plan.

     “Alright, your turn. Ask away,” you told Spencer, leaning back in your chair.

     “What are you looking for in a relationship right now?”

     “Ok, are you just trying to make me look bad for the toothbrush question?” You crossed your arms.

     “I genuinely want to know,” Spencer defended. “And maybe a little bit.”

     You giggled, thinking of your answer. What were you looking for in a relationship? You really liked Spencer, and you wanted this date to turn into many more dates.  

     “Well, I’d like to see where this goes,” you answered honestly. “And I could definitely see being in a long-term relationship with you.”

     “Good,” Spencer smiled at you shyly, “Because I don’t mean to pull a Ted Mosby on you but, I could easily see myself falling in love with you.”

     You felt as if all the air had been knocked out of your lungs. Did Spencer just say what you think he said? You’d never had a guy tell you that on the first date before.

     But then again, this didn’t feel wrong.

    “Well,” you said, a little breathless. “Then I’m no Robin because yeah, I think I could fall in love with you too.”

     Spencer reached across the table and grabbed your hands in his. 

     “(Y/n), I’ve never felt this way about a person before,” he confessed. “I feel like I can be completely myself around you. You’re so smart and funny and really attractive.”

     “And an amazing assistant?” You teased.

     “I thought you didn’t want to talk about work,” Spencer said. 

     “You’re right, I don’t,” you said, “Go back to the calling me attractive thing.”

     You joked, but what Spencer was saying meant a lot to you. You never seen this side of him before. Vulnerable and sweet and wanting a relationship with you. 

     “So,” Spencer started, “What do you say we get out of here and I show you my toothbrush?”

     “If that’s supposed to be innuendo, you’re failing miserably,” you said.

     “(Y/n), come on, give me some credit,” Spencer laughed, finishing off his coffee.

     “Well then,” you said, as the barista began to walk over to your table to collect your empty drink cups. “I’d love to see your toothbrush.”

     “Have a good day guys,” the woman said, gathering your dishes.

     “Seriously, so cute!” She mouthed to you, before leaving your table. 

     “Yeah, let’s get out of here before Ms. Coffee tries to make a move on you,” you joked, standing up. 

     “The one time a woman thinks I’m hot and I’m already on a date with someone else,” Spencer threw up his hands and you put yours on your hips.

     Spencer stood up and came to stand in front of you. “Kidding, you know there’s nowhere I’d rather be than with you tonight.”

     Your heart swelled and you let Spencer guide you to the door, his hand pressing gently on the small of your back.

     Once you were outside of the building, you were met with a chill wind that hadn’t been there when you had arrived at the coffee shop.

     You shivered and Spencer, noticing, quickly took off his jean jacket, placing it around your shoulders.

     You had walked only a few more feet before it began pouring rain. 

     You shrieked, pulling Spencer’s jacket above your head. You looked at him and you both began running, laughing as you picked up your pace.

     What a sight you must have been to anyone watching, running through the rain and giggling like madmen.

     Your hair was getting drenched even under the coat, and your clothes were already soaked and stuck to your skin. You were cold and wet and totally ruining a dry-clean-only top.

     But, as you looked at Spencer, his hair plastered to his forehead from the rain, his hand reaching to grab yours as you ran together, you knew you would remember this for a long time.

     You thought of Spencer’s earlier statement. There’s nowhere I’d rather be.

     You couldn’t agree more, you thought.

     And then a raindrop fell straight into your eye. 

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     “Sorry about the whole rain thing,” Spencer ran a hand through his hair, looking up at you from his seated position.

     “Spencer, you can’t control Mother Nature,” you told him.

     “Not yet,” Spencer mumbled.

     “Besides,” you continued, “Now I get to wear your clothes.

     You spun around for him, showing him the t-shirt and sweatpants that you had put on.

     You were in Spencer’s living room, where you’d come straight after you’d gone into his bathroom to change out of your wet clothes—you could confirm, his toothbrush was green—and into some of his that he had given you to wear. 

     “Damn,” he blew out a breath, “You might as well steal my whole wardrobe at this point if you’re going to keep making it look so sexy.”

     “I don’t know,” you said, “You make it look pretty sexy yourself.”

     Spencer smiled, standing up and walking across the room towards you.

     “How did I get so lucky?” He shook is head.

     “Shayne, I think?” You answered.

     “I owe him big time,” he agreed. “I could almost kiss him. No homo.”

     You giggled, rolling your eyes. “I have a better idea.”

     “Yeah?” 

     “You could kiss me instead,” you bit your bottom lip. 

     “Way to spoil part two of our date,” Spencer said.

     “What’s part two of our date?” You played along. 

     “Well, I was thinking it would go a little something like this.”

     He closed the distance between you, bringing his lips to yours.

     He kissed you gently at first, his mouth teasing yours as you kissed him back.

    Then his hands were in your hair and he was kissing you harder, more passionately.

     Whenever you’d imagined your first kiss with Spencer—which you’d done more often than you’d like to admit in your first few weeks at Smosh—nothing had ever come close to this.

     To really kissing him.

     You could have gone on like this forever, kissing Spencer and thinking of nothing but the way his hands felt on your body and the way his lips said more than words could.

     But Spencer stopped, pulling away for a moment. 

     “Wow, (Y/n).” His voice came out rough. “I hate to interrupt that but do you wanna maybe take this to my room? All this stand-up kissing is gonna throw out my back.”

     “Grandpa,” you breathed, letting him grab your hand and guide you down the hall. 

     “Don’t mind the mess,” he said, stopping in the doorway. “Blame my roommate.”

     “You have a roommate?” You asked, stepping into his bedroom.

     “Well these Mountain Dew cans can’t have just spawned out of nowhere,” he teased, kicking a can to the side. 

     “I feel like I’m committing a cleanliness crime just walking in here,” you joked, stepping over a pile of laundry. 

     “Well then,” Spencer said, leaning backwards on the bed, reaching out an arm to you. “Go down with me, Bonnie and Clyde style?”

     “Anytime,” you said, joining him. “Bring on the bullets.”

₊˚ ✧ ‿︵‿୨୧‿︵‿ ✧ ₊˚

     You woke up to the sun shining in your face, the light making you squint as you tried to open your eyes. 

     You must’ve forgot to close the curtains last night. To be fair, you had been busy doing…other things.

     You smiled to yourself. Turns out Erin was right after all.

     You looked over at Spencer, still asleep, his arm slung over your shoulder, the other behind his head.

     Your head lay on his chest, your body sprawled out on top of him. You never wanted to move from this position.

     Last night had been one of the best moments of your life. Getting to know Spencer better, being intimate with him, running through the rain together.

     Now, as you lay with Spencer, so peaceful and calm, you never wanted it to end. 

     You ran your fingers over Spencer’s arm, tracing one of his tattoos lightly. You’d always thought they looked so cool, but you’d never actually studied each one individually. 

     “I wonder what this one means,” you whispered, your fingers stopping over the ink on his forearm. 

     “It’s cooler if you don’t know,” Spencer surprised you with his voice, the tone low and raspy from sleep.

     “How long have you been awake?” You asked him.

     “A while,” he confessed. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

     You turned so you were laying on your stomach, looking up at him.

     “I had fun last night,” you told him.

     “Yeah? I’m glad, cause I’m pretty sure it was the best night of my life,” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head, almost echoing your thoughts from moments ago.

      “How are we going to top this next time?” You asked, placing a hand on his chest. You smiled, thinking of a certain met gala interaction. “How are we going to outdo what we did?”

     “We don’t have to, it’s just us,” Spencer quoted back.

     “It’s a timeless partnership,” you continued, before you both started laughing.

     “But seriously,” you said. “Do you already have a plan for date number two or is it my turn?”

      “Well,” he started, “We could actually go in the—”

     “If you say shoe store, I’m leaving!” You sat up, crossing your arms.

     “I’m already putting it on my calendar,” Spencer sat up with you. “Which reminds me…”

     He trailed off, standing up and throwing his clothes from the night before back on.

     You got up too, finding your (well, Spencer’s) clothes and getting dressed also. 

     Once Spencer was fully clothed, he walked over to the desk across from his bed, grabbing a blue box with what was probably supposed to be a bow tied around it. 

     He handed it out to you, looking almost nervous. “I meant to give this to you last night but I forgot. I hope you like it.”

     He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand. 

     You took the box from him, opening it to find the nicest pair of converse you had ever seen. You couldn’t believe it. He had actually bought you shoes. 

     “Spencer, I don’t know what to say,” you said.

     “I bought them the day we met,” he informed you, shyly. “It was our thing—our little inside joke. I’d been looking for the right time to give them to you and this seemed like it.”

     You grinned. This was, unironically, the nicest and cutest thing anyone had ever done for you. 

     You looked at Spencer, waiting expectantly to see if you liked the shoes. You looked around you, at the messy room that already felt like a second home. 

     You had grown to care for Spencer so much in the short time that you had known him. You couldn’t wait for your next date. You had so much to look forward to, for the future.

     But right now, you focused on this moment. On Spencer, standing right in front of you.

     “I love them,” you said, pulling the shoes out of the box. “And I love you.”

     Spencer stepped closer to you, kissing you softly on the lips.

     “I loved you from the moment I met you, (Y/n),” he said.

     You stood like that for a moment before Spencer broke the silence.

     “Well, try them on,” he gestured to the shoes in your hand. “The sooner we get rid of those grandma kicks, the better.”

     You laughed, putting your new shoes on your feet and walking around the room, modeling them for Spencer.

      “Well, what do you think?” You asked him. 

     “Now those,” Spencer started, smiling at you, “are cool shoes.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~°~❦~°~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ˋ°•*⁀➷ ahh hope you enjoyed!! i’m loving all of the spencer love 🎀 (and if you got my shameless jack harlow reference ilysm)

<— previous part •  some more spencer fics —>

[norrizzandpia]

She Doesn’t Know Who I Am (Part 2) (LN4)

Summary: Y/n’s best friend, Lily, seems to know Lando from somewhere. However, she really can’t place where?

Warnings: smallest bit of angst but overall a cute ending to a cute idea

“Have you told her yet?” Max asked Lando as they watched a movie in Lando’s hotel room.

Lando’s eyebrows furrowed, “Y/n? About who I actually am? No way.”

“Mate, she thinks your name is Lando Smith and you’re a Starbucks barista.” Max laughed loudly.

“Well? I’m not going to sit there and be like ‘Oh, I’m actually a millionaire and celebrity who drives for the famous car brand, McLaren’. Like, that’s just asking for her to use me.” Lando groaned as he paused the scene and turned to his friend.

Max tilted his head as he realized the very serious, complicated feelings Lando was experiencing, “Bob, you’ve been going out with her for a month. I think, at this point, she likes you for you. I mean, how much longer are you going to dress in jeans and a ratty t-shirt without your favorite watch or ring or necklace?”

Lando exhaled, “I would much rather do that than have her look at me with dollar signs like everybody else does.”

“Lando,” Max pleaded, trying to stop his friend’s reckless decisions, “how do you think she’s going to feel when she finds out you’ve lied to her about your whole life? The only truth you’ve told her is that you have three other siblings.”

Lando opened his mouth to counter before Max put his hand up and interrupted him, “Also, the longer you wait to tell her the bigger risk you take of someone else letting her know when they come up to you and ask for a picture.”

Lando let out a loud, annoyed groan as he got up and made his way out of the room, Max in tow, “No one knows who I am here. She won’t find out unless I tell her.”

As if the universe was challenging his statement, Lando’s phone rang after he let out the last word. Looking up at his best friend, Lando slowly answered the call, already unnerved by the topic of conversation they were on.

“Y/n?” His shaky voice disappeared as he cleared his throat.

“Lando!” Her giggly tone brought a smile to his face, melting any negative feelings away.

“What’s up?” He asked, turning away from Max to gain some sort of privacy when talking to his girlfriend.

In the background of her call, Lando could hear the teasing voices of her best friends, “Do you wanna come over? We’re having pasta night and I know how much you’ve been craving it lately.”

Lando giggled a sick, infectious schoolgirl laugh that had Max reeling, “Sure, I’d love to come over. What time should I get there?”

Y/n’s loud laughter sounded in his ears as she joked around with her friends, “NOW!”

“Okay, okay! I’m coming!” Lando laughed as he grabbed his coat and began his way toward the door.

“Wait, what about me?” Max whispered yelling before his friend could take one foot out the door.

Lando waved him off, too excited with young, new love to care, “Just- just order some room service or something. On McLaren.”

That seemed to shut Max up as he nodded and turned around, going back to their movie as Lando slammed the door shut in the midst of his haste to get where he needed to be.

Where he wanted to be.

—

The knock sounded and Y/n yelped out loud as she jumped from the couch and ran toward the door. Flinging it open, she was met with Lando’s smiling face, one she jumped at. Literally.

He laughed in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her waist, clutching onto her so they wouldn’t fall.

He had been over to her apartment multiple times before but had never been there when her roommates were too. Paige and Lily were Y/n’s best friends, roommates on days when they fought. The two girls had been eager to officially meet Lando for weeks as Y/n didn’t have any good pictures of him and he “didn’t have any social media platforms”. They had no clue what he looked like, Paige only knowing the general physicality from the time they were at the park.

Lando shuffled the two of them inside as he closed the door with his foot, his hands still gripping her waist. His face was hidden in her neck, blocking the view from Lily and Paige as they stood together huddled behind the corner.

“Can you see him?” Lily whispered aggressively as she tried to peek around the corner.

Paige stopped her quickly, “Stop! That’s too far. They’ll see you.”

“We already can hear you.” Y/n groaned as Lando giggled and let her down.

The two best friends came out of hiding with sheepish looks as they rounded the corner and came to stand in front of the new couple.

“Guys, this is Lando. My boyfriend.” Y/n smiled as she looked between her best friends and Lando.

Lily’s face squinted as she looked at him for a second too long, “Do I know you from somewhere?”

Lando’s heart dropped as it dawned on him that Y/n’s closest friend was about to out him, “Um, no?”

“Hm, okay.” She gave as her eyes still lingered on him.

Lando’s blood pumped aggressively through his veins as the moment passed quickly and Y/n changed the subject.

“So, who’s ready for some pasta?!”

—

“Paige,” Lily whispered on the couch of their living room, Lando and Y/n asleep in her room a wall over.

Paige looked over at her, “What?”

“What did Lando say his last name was?” She asked timidly.

“Smith, why?”

“Because that’s not his last name,” Lily said immediately.

Paige’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

“His last name is Lando Norris and he’s a famous racing driver in Europe. That’s where I knew him from. One of my friends from Intro to Psych loves him, has him as her wallpaper.”

Paige stared blankly at her, “Again. What?”

Lily sighed as she grabbed her phone and pulled up the first photo she found on the internet, “See? Famous driver for McLaren in F1. Paige, he’s like a celebrity.”

Paige took the phone out of her hands and let a moment of silence pass as she scrolled and read about the man asleep in the room over, “Do you think Y/n knows?”

“No way. If she did, she would be blabbering about it nonstop to us.”

“You’re right.” Paige gave the phone back to her friend before they stared at the blank wall in front of them, distraught and shocked.

“Are we supposed to tell her about this?” Lily asked after deeming it appropriate to speak again.

Paige shook her head, “Let’s give him a week. If he doesn’t tell her by then, we will.”

—

A week went by and passed before the two girls officially decided to reveal the newfound information to their best friend.

“Y/n? Come in here.” Paige’s stern voice startled Y/n away from her call with Lando, the man who had unfortunately gone back to Monaco to “resume his shifts at Starbucks”.

“Paige’s calling me. I have to go, Lanyard.” Y/n giggled as Lando’s face smiled back at her on her phone.

“Okay. Call me later, love. Bye.” He waved.

“Bye!” She smiled as they ended the call and she stepped out of her room, coming face to face with her two best friends sitting professionally on their beat-up couch.

“What’s going on?” She asked hesitantly.

Paige exhaled, “We need to talk to you about Lando.”

Y/n blinked, sitting slowly down on the chair across from them, “Okay. Give it to me.”

“Remember when I thought I had seen Lando from somewhere?” Lily started, death gripping her phone with the photos of Lando’s real life on it.

Y/n nodded, “Mhm.”

“Well, I figured out where I had seen him.” Lily and Paige glanced at each other, preparing for either a breakdown or celebration.

Y/n nodded, “Okay, where?”

“He’s a celebrity.” Paige let out, immediately clutching her mouth as if she had spilled something so scandalous.

Y/n shook her head, “What? No way. I searched him up, and there’s no Lando Smith that’s a celebrity.”

Lily nodded, “That’s because his name isn’t Lando Smith. It’s Lando Norris, famous F1 driver for McLaren.”

Y/n laughed, “You guys have got the wrong guy. Lando’s got serious road rage. Being a racing driver wouldn’t work.”

“Then, explain these.” Lily handed her the phone with McLaren’s Instagram page opened.

A few minutes passed as Y/n scrolled, her breathing picking up at the photos of her boyfriend with his gorgeous ex. An eternity passed when she stumbled upon his personal account, filled with photos of him living the luxurious life of a millionaire.

“This can’t be real. He said he was a Starbucks barista.” Y/n’s eyes shot around as her brain tried to process the crazed information.

Paige shook her head, “I don’t think he is, babe.”

Y/n passed the phone back to Lily like it was burning her fingertips, “I need to call him.”

She rushed out of the room before either of her best friends could advise her not to. However, as she held her phone, her fingers hovering over his number, she realized she had to see it for herself.

She needed to go to Monaco.

—

Her friends had tried to practically drag her away from the airport, but their attempts had clearly failed as she stepped off the airplane into the air-conditioned airport.

Calling an Uber, Y/n typed in the Lando’s address she had gotten from Max. The poor boy had fallen right into her trap when she told him she was going to send Lando a care package for his “long shifts” and didn’t know where he lived.

The best friend had no trouble typing the words into their text chain, allowing her to easily pull up to his fancy building. The lobby she stepped into was unlike anything she had ever seen, very clearly too expensive for someone who worked at Starbucks.

Gold accents and chandeliers mocked her as she gave the concierge her boyfriend’s name.

“I’m sorry, miss, but your name isn’t on his personal list, so I can’t let you up.” The receptionist smiled at her, clearly ready to call security on her worn-out NYU sweatshirt.

“I’m his girlfriend and I need to talk to him.” She said as sternly as possible for a broke college student.

The woman laughed, “You have no idea how many girls like you come up to my desk and tell me the exact same thing. If you wait outside, he should be coming down soon and you can ask for his signature there.”

Y/n mouth fell open, both because his identity was proving to be true and the woman’s snobby behavior toward her.

“Fine.” She gave a sickly sweet smile that spoke volumes to the woman who was eyeing the man sitting beside her.

So, there she stood in the lobby of Lando’s apartment building, waiting for him to turn up so she could confront him.

Fortunately, he didn’t take that long. His brown curls popped out of the sterling silver elevator along with Max’s head as he bent down to type away at his phone. The two friends rounded the corner, Lando stopping by the front desk to speak with the concierge before she gestured behind him to Y/n.

“A fan showed up to meet you. I’m sorry she won’t leave.” The woman muttered before Lando groaned lightly and turned around.

His face fell once he saw her purple sweatshirt, the same one that had reminded him of peaceful mornings spent at her apartment. He rushed toward her, pulling Max’s attention away from his phone long enough to realize the situation at hand.

“Y/n, what are you doing here?” He rushed out, his hand coming to rest on her arm as he looked into her eyes.

She crossed her arms over her chest as she challenged him with her stare, “Who are you, Lando Norris?”

“Shit,” Max whispered as he stood behind the couple, realizing his helping hand in her getting here.

“Y/n,” Lando started, but she interrupted him with a wave of her hand.

“So, who’s Lando Smith? Have you ever even been to a Starbucks in your life? I’m sure it’s assistants running around getting it for you. You know, I had some time to do a deep dive into your background on the way here. I mean, did you tell me anything that was true?” She rambled on.

Lando nodded, taking her hand in his and pulling her back toward the elevators, “I did, I did. Just let me explain when we get to my apartment.”

Shooting a glance at the woman behind the desk, her face telling Y/n she regretted her previous inferences, Y/n followed Lando into the elevator with a quiet Max close behind.

—

Stepping into his apartment Y/n immediately realized that “apartment” was a nickname for “penthouse”.

“What the hell is going on?” She exclaimed once he shut the door.

“I’m just- um, going to go upstairs to the gaming room.” Max shuffled away from the couple as they stood in the foyer.

“THERE’S AN UPSTAIRS?!” She yelled as she walked further into the palace and took a look at the wide, black stairs leading up to more symbols of Lando’s success.

“Y/n, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” He said as he grabbed her arms and turned her around to face him.

“You better have a better excuse than that.” She said as the way her body flinched at his touch told Lando how hurt she was.

“Love, you don’t understand what it’s like to constantly be in fear that everyone around you is only laughing at your jokes because they want a little bit of the lifestyle I live. It’s hell having the only thing people see about me is my job and the money I earn from it. The whole world knows what my salary is and I just wanted to know, for sure and for once, that someone wasn’t just in it with me for that.” He pleaded with her as his hands lightly shook her frame.

He was scared he had fully driven her away as she stared at him, however over time, her eyes shifted from anger to sadness and regret before she leaned into him and said, “Lan, why didn’t you trust me?”

His arms wrapped around her fully as her head leaned against his chest, “I did. I do. I just wanted you to like me for me.”

At his statement, Y/n moved away from his chest to look him in the eyes, her hand coming to graze across his cheek, “Of course, I like you for you. I always have and no amount of money could have changed that.”

He sighed, “How do you know that?”

She smiled lightly at him, “Because ever since I was a little girl, I’ve wanted to experience a great love. It’s never mattered to me how much money the guy I ended up with made or the kind of life he led. All I’ve ever wanted was to be loved by somebody good. Lando, that’s who you are to me. Somebody good. I wouldn’t have ever seen you differently if you would’ve told me from the first date who you actually were. I’m just upset because for so long I was learning to know who Lando Smith was and not Lando Norris.”

His little laugh echoed throughout the room as he leaned into her touch, “I’m sorry. It was just such a good opportunity to see what it would be like to be normal.”

“I understand,” She whispered to him, her hands now cupping his cheeks as he stared back at her, finally opening up to her.

“You do?” He asked.

She nodded, “Of course, I do. I mean, I can’t understand what it’s like to feel that way, but I can imagine. I probably would’ve done the same thing as you.”

He exhaled, “How can I make it up to you?”

Kissing him lightly, she pulled back, “Allow me to become acquainted with you and not Starbucks barista Lando Smith?”

“Of course.”

End.

Tags: @f1enthusiastsstuff @allywthsr @haileycannotcometothephonern @itsjustkhaos @omgsuperstarg @lexxlouuu @smoothopz @evermoresivy @formula1mount @moon-enthusiast @summerslike11

[robertreich]

It’s Time to Roast Starbucks For Union Busting

Starbucks should be getting publicly roasted for union busting and refusing to even negotiate with unionized workers.

You see, if there’s one thing I love more than coffee, it’s unions. Because unions perk up pay.

And if there’s one thing I hate more than corporations who try to bust unions, it’s having to make my own coffee every morning.

I may be known for a lot of things, but making a good cup of coffee isn’t one of them.

I was thrilled to hear about workers in Starbucks’ stores across the country exercising their right to unionize.

A cup of solidarity brewed by a unionized barista? What could be better than that?

Definitely not me being my own barista.

Starbucks is a multibillion dollar company. Its new CEO will start with a pay package estimated to be worth over $28 million dollars. That’s roughly 800x the pay of the workers who actually brew and serve the coffee the business is built on — and who barely earn a living wage.                                            

That’s why those workers have begun to unionize.

Since December 2021, Starbucks Workers United has won union elections in more than 300 Starbucks stores, covering more than 8,000 workers and counting.

And most of the union campaigns in individual stores won by overwhelming margins, gaining more than 70% of the total votes — and in parts of the country where private sector unions rarely win.

The Starbucks union campaign has inspired young workers across the country and breathed life into a U.S. labor movement that has been stagnant for decades.

It’s been so successful that Starbucks briefly brought its former CEO, billionaire Howard Schultz, out of retirement to bust the union, and still refuses to even sit down at the bargaining table.

That’s why I’ve been boycotting Starbucks.

As part of its campaign to tamp down further unionization, Starbucks corporate has fired scores of pro-union workers, closed stores that have unionized, threatened to withhold wage and benefit improvements from stores considering unionizing, and packed stores with outside managers to undermine organizing efforts.

The National Labor Relations Board, which oversees all union elections in the U.S., has issued more than 93 complaints covering 328 unfair labor practice charges against Starbucks — and ordered reinstatement of at least 23 fired workers so far.

Yet Starbucks is unwilling to change its anti-union ways — even though Schultz was grilled in front of Congress 

Starbucks claims to be a “progressive” company.

But based on the way it’s broken labor law and put unionized workers in the percolator, that couldn’t be further from the truth.

Now is an opportunity for all of us to make our voices heard and to tell Starbucks to stop UNION BUSTING and bargain in good faith with Starbucks Workers United.

And it’s time for Joe Biden, who calls himself the “most pro-union president in American history,” to send a powerful message: we won’t tolerate union-busting by Starbucks or any other corporation — including Elon Musk’s Tesla and Jeff Bezos’s Amazon.

Otherwise, my boycott will continue — and perhaps you’ll consider joining me.  

If we want to brew a future where workers have power and dignity, then we need to show solidarity with unions…

And stand up to corporate bullying.

[humanitys-strongest-bamf]

Black Tea & Pastries Part 2 | #LeviMonth2024 Fluff Oneshot

✧ word count ➼ ~1.6k ✧ notes ➼ canonverse, post-war!levi x barista!reader, fem!reader, alcohol mention, part 2 to this 😌 ✧ comments ➼ levi month entry for august 22! i fell in love with these two goofs so i made a part 2 hehe ✧ join my levi month taglist here!

{{ August 19 (Post-War: Marriage) | August 24 (Crime + Secret Relationship Part 1) }} Masterlist

Seeing Levi at the cafe every day was something that you had grown to expect. You'd come in for your shift, he'd pop in during the afternoon—sometimes the morning if he wasn't too busy—you'd give him his black tea and pastry, chat a bit, and then he'd walk you home after your shift. It was a pattern that you easily settled into.

You'd occasionally catch him strolling outside your apartment since you lived on the same street, but he was usually with Gabi and Falco and on his way to help out with the post-Rumbling restoration efforts. You had made multiple notes to yourself to chat with him outside of your home when the opportunity arose, but it never had. At least you could look forward to seeing him at the cafe.

That was precisely why you felt just a hint of concern arising within you when you realized that it almost closing time and you had yet to see Levi pop in. He visited late sometimes, but never this late. Now that you thought about it, you didn't really see him come out of his apartment earlier in the day either.

You thought it was silly, but you went ahead and made his favorite black tea and grabbed the day's pastry special for him. You knew that you shouldn't be giving your customers special treatment, especially since you had already stopped charging him for his orders, but you had this pleasant feeling arise within you ever since you first saw him and it had only grown stronger within the past few weeks of hanging out with him.

With everyone else, you had to pretend. Your Marleyan friends were a bit wary of your heritage as an Eldian, customers couldn't be bothered to learn your name, and your boss was focused much more on performance than your actual well-being. Yet, around Levi, you felt like you could be yourself.

You were walking home, clutching the pastry bag in one hand, and holding the to-go cup in another, praying that the tea wouldn't be cold by the time you arrived. A part of you was even getting nervous.

What if he judged the fact that you brought his order specifically to his apartment? What if he thought you were being weird? A part of you was even tempted to change your mind entirely and go home with the snacks and keep it for yourself just to avoid having this interaction.

Still, you bit your lip and took a deep breath, stepping up to his door.

You were just about to knock when the door opened. Levi had heard you step up.

You blinked at him in surprise for a split second, startled by the fact that he already knew you were here before you could practice the script in your head as to why you had brought him his order.

"Hi."

You quickly shoved the tea and pastry bag at him before he could respond.

"…I brought you tea-"

You paused, internally cringing upon realizing the time of day.

"-despite it being the evening…"

The black tea had a considerable amount of caffeine in it, so there wouldn't really be a reason for him to want it this late into the evening.

Levi gently took the cup and pastry from you, noting that the beverage was still warm despite being brought out into the cold.

"It's okay, I don't really sleep anyway."

A slight wave of relief washed over you. You kicked your feet at the ground, awkwardly shuffling around and not knowing what to say, but not wanting to leave either. You did miss him today, after all.

"…would you like to come in?" he questioned, finally breaking the silence. "It's a bit chilly, and I have the stove running."

The sudden and unexpected question momentarily made you freeze. "You inviting me over for dinner?"

You felt him pause, getting caught a bit off-guard himself.

"…or is this to follow-up on our 'outside of the cafe' conversations?" You looked back up to him, watching the small smirk form on his lips.

"Perhaps," he muttered without specifying which question he was referring to.

Levi always had a unique ability to calm down your nerves without even intentionally trying to. As soon as you made eye contact with him, you felt your anxiety dissipate into excitement.

"Let me drop off my stuff at home, and I'll hop back over," you agreed with a small smile and nod.

Levi acknowledged your request with a small nod of his own.

“Door’s unlocked. Just pop back in so you don’t end up dragging my ass away from the stove again.”

You gave him a bashful smile in an attempt to hide how flustered his comment made you, before quickly turning to head towards your apartment, trying to slow down your pace to contain your excitement.

As you set your stuff down once you got inside, you noticed the bottle of wine that had been collecting dust on your counter. You had saved it up from when a bad date blew you off, and the idea of going through it now with Levi seemed oddly fitting.

After changing out of your barista uniform and into something more comfortable—a casual and loose-fitting sundress and sandals—you grabbed onto the bottle, wiping off any collected lint from the surface, finding yourself unable to contain the smile on your face upon thinking of spending the evening with him.

It only took you about ten minutes before you were heading back, hesitantly opening the door to his place. You were suddenly hit with a waft of the stew he was making, one that seemed hearty and filled with a spicy aroma that indicated that cooking was one of the few hobbies he had picked up since retiring after the war.

You slowly stepped inside, waving at him once he noticed you. His eyes ran down your figure, and you immediately felt your face heating up from his sustained attention.

“I didn’t want to just be in my work uniform,” you mumbled quietly. “Did I overdo it?”

“Not at all,” he reassured, giving a slight shake of his head. “Come in.”

You looked around the living room as you took off your shoes, noticing that the furniture was in the process of getting moved around. It didn’t take you long to deduce that he was renovating, and that it likely explained his absence from the cafe today.

It wasn’t anything too fancy—just the installation of a windowsill garden—but it required him to move furniture around, which was significantly more difficult since he was living alone, with his knee acting up a bit today that resulted in it being a bit more painful moving around compared to usual.

“Pardon the mess,” he muttered, motioning towards the mini-garden that you had noticed. “Was trying to get this set up, but this damned couch was in the way.”

Levi usually hated messes, but it couldn’t be helped for now. He had to pick and choose his battles, and he chose to prioritize preparing food for the week instead of reorganizing furniture that he’d ultimately have to move again anyway.

The garden itself was roughly half-way done. It needed some clean-up and the furniture needed to be put back, but it looked like he got most of the hard work done today. You took a look at it and made a mental note to maybe help him clean up and finish up the garden tomorrow since you had the day off.

You looked back up at him as he gestured over towards the table. Your eyebrows slightly furrowed into a concerned frown when you noticed that his limp was a bit more obvious than usual—he was having a bad knee day.

You set the wine bottle down onto the table and, instead of taking a seat, joined him in the kitchen to help him out.

He was indeed making a stew. It was easy to store, and would be a cozy meal given the fact that it was beginning to get chilly outside.

Levi didn’t complain, and in fact welcomed your presence in the kitchen with him, allowing you space to portion out the stew for the two of you to bring over to the table before he began scooping the rest into a spare container to store for later.

It was a small kitchen, and you had to dance around each other as you walked back and forth, but working together with him felt effortless, and gave the both of you a nice experience in domestic life that you hadn’t been able to ever have before.

You felt your cheeks heating up again upon thinking about any possible future occurrences of this with him. You certainly wouldn’t mind.

“…I brought some wine, if you were interested,” you announced as you brought two wine glasses over to the table and popping open the bottle.

Seeing his nod, you filled your glasses before taking a seat with him to enjoy your impromptu dinner.

You had enjoyed your evening walks home with him from the cafe, and had gotten concerned when he failed to show up today, but you certainly didn’t mind if the result was spending the evening with him in his residence, sharing a warm meal, and chatting without the constraints of the time spent walking home.

#: @shayewrites @littlerequiem @mostlilo @humanitys-strongest-brat @dustbuniesworld @levisrations @ebechnasheim @moonchild-angel @jayteacups @bipolargatto @samackermaan @deepzombieyouth @levkuna @levisfavoriteteashop @ackermanswifee @ae-chidori @2dsimpomg @anti-cupid