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here2bbtstrash · 2 years ago

Text

real magic (explicit)

genre: smut, fluff, bangin’ your boss, m attempts kidfic - part of a hyung holiday collab !

pairing: namjoon x reader

summary: the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

word count: 16.7k 😩

contains: ~*~explicit sexual content (after kind of a slow burn sorry lol)~*~ the "moving back to your hometown" hallmark trope, a nick jonas poster (yes that's a warning), some taekook slander in the beginning because i thought it was funny, namjoon is so buff and so dumb but so wise and so hot, moni is a little shit, namjoon is a dad!, namjoon's kid uses they/them pronouns but it's not like A Focus of the story it's just flavor, reader thinks joon has a dead wife for like one second 💀 mentions of teenage pregnancy and co-parenting, one incredibly stupid asshole customer lmao, mint choco slander (it's what namjoon would want 😌), obviously there is an employee/boss power dynamic but they talk about it and figure it out because this is namjoon and he overthinks everything, namjoon driving (he's a dad i have to assume he would get his license if he had a literal child!!!!!!!!) and a lotta sentimental holiday and life talk. here are ur sex specific warnings: making out/going to second base in a car in a parking lot (what is it with my namjoons and cars in parking lots yo), fingering, semi-drunk sex, and fuckin' rawwwww with a smidge of size and breeding kink lmao (but she's on the pill!!! no more kids!!!!!!)

A/N: hello hello hi merry crisis this damn fic is finally here lmao~ as i have been babbling on about for days i really really (REALLY) love how this namjoon turned out he's just hesjkrgdhtgk such a fucking himbo but a good dad and wise and did i mention hot aaaaaa 🫠 all the love in my gay little heart to @goodsoop for their barista wisdom and real life experiences that went into this one (the cookie story will never not make me laugh) ! and to @sailoryooons for beta reading this 50 million times and encouraging me when i was convinced it sucked ass, and also for making all the gorgeous banners for this collab 😭

which btw - be sure to go check out @gimmethatagustd & @sailoryooons & @nabiolive 's fics tooooo !!! i've loved collabing with them so very much even when we were all hashtag Going Through It, we got the whole damn hyung line you hear meeeeee 🎁🎁🎁🎁

read on AO3!

Rudely awoken by the incessant beep of your alarm, you open your eyes to find Nick Jonas staring back at you, and you sit up with a scream.

Realization washes over your sleep-addled brain in waves: first, that you aren’t actually staring at a real person. He’s just smizing on a hot pink poster, held up by some remarkably durable masking tape you stuck to the wall fifteen years ago. Second, it comes back to you that you are staring at said poster because you’ve woken up in your childhood bedroom. It’s been left untouched since you were a teenager, like a weird time capsule of all your high school obsessions.

After reaching for your phone to silence the alarm, you kick your way out from under the blankets, trying not to make eye contact with Nick, or Justin, or Zayn as you stumble to the bathroom. The circumstances of your grand return to living in your goddamn parents’ house linger like a bad taste in your mouth, one that all the tongue brushing in the world can’t remove.

It still doesn’t feel real. Taehyung, your best friend in the world since freshman year of college, kicked you out. Sure, it may have been phrased more like a gentle request, but as far as your ego is concerned, it still feels like exile. Banishment, even. The person you thought you could never be parted from made his choice, and he chose his fucking boyfriend over you.

Jungkook. You think the name with all the venom your cold, dead heart can manage as you spit toothpaste into the sink.

Jungkook, the weird, bug-eyed kid who put his toe-socked feet on your couch, drank his banana milk out of your favorite mug, and ate up all of your Samyang ramyeon because he ‘thought it was communal’.

Jungkook, who ruined your sleep schedule nightly, either by fucking Taehyung senseless on the other side of your paper-thin apartment wall, or by blasting the same four Ariana Grande songs over and over on his bluetooth speaker and singing along in an annoyingly good voice. Either activity would go on well into the early hours of the morning, until you had to bang on the wall so hard you nearly put your fist through it.

Jungkook, whose dog once took a shit right on the floor in the middle of the kitchen.

Bam was cute enough to forgive, of course. But you can never forgive Taehyung for his betrayal. Especially when he knew you’d just been fired from your shitty coffee shop job for the stupidest reason ever, and he didn’t let that derail or even delay him. He still went ahead and delivered the killing blow.

Et tu, Taehyung? you think angrily to yourself as you stand in front of the suitcase containing as much of your closet as you could possibly fit. You still need to go back for your bigger furniture, and little things like your plates and your mugs and your silverware, which Jungkook is probably putting his grimy little fingers all over at this very moment. But until you’ve checked out of your indefinite vacation at the Nightmare Parental Hotel, there doesn’t really seem a point.

If you were less upset, you might take consolation in the fact that your parents aren’t actually here, that they’ve jaunted off to their timeshare until the new year, but you’re busy being too swallowed whole by your misery to find an ounce of joy in any piece of your current reality.

You dig through the pile of clothes until you manage to pull out something halfway decent. The first order of business now that you’ve moved back in is simple: acquire another stupid coffee shop job. You have no plans to stick around long, you just need something seasonal that will give you some meager income while you start looking for a real gig, one that is ideally not in your hometown.

Watching yourself in the mirror as you pull on a simple black blouse and your least-stained pair of jeans, you attempt to mentally dust off your interview skills. You conjure up your best fake smile and customer service voice, both of which are second-nature at this point.

Why do you want this job? “I’m just so passionate about coming home sticky and verbally abused by caffeine-addicted assholes every night.”

What’s your biggest weakness? “Clearly it’s the fact that I’m a ray of fucking sunshine.”

Why were you terminated from your last job? “Oh, well, I attempted to get my previous employer to improve their standards of worker treatment. You see, I selfishly requested that they raise the bar a single notch above hell. Certainly won’t happen again!”

This should go well, you tell yourself, and your reflection grimaces back.

With several hours to kill before your job interview and a growing desire to avoid the weird nostalgia of your childhood that seems to lurk in every corner of your parents’ house, you decide to take a walk.

The sky is bright blue and cloudless, and though the air is brisk, it isn’t terribly windy. You tuck in your earbuds as you shut the front door behind you and pick a direction, aimless, letting your mind wander to the soundtrack of your “seasonal depression” playlist.

A whole new crop of families must have moved into your parents’ neighborhood in the years since you moved out, because the streets are more alive with kids than you can ever remember them being, even when you were a kid yourself. Bikes and scooters lay abandoned on the sidewalks between homes, and you can hear the repeated echo of a basketball dribbling on a driveway, punctuated by distant, playful screaming.

Even in the daytime, you can tell these families have spared no expense when it comes to Christmas decor: some homes have every eave outlined in string lights, some have candy cane stakes dug into the perimeter of their perfectly manicured lawns, and some have been seemingly invaded by small armies of inflatable reindeer and snowmen. You can’t help but giggle a little at the inflatable decorations that have been set to turn off during the day, the way the airless material lays limp in the grass, giving the impression of a yard strewn with dead bodies.

But you remember what it looked like when you drove in last night, everything lit up and brought to life.

Your parents definitely didn’t have inflatable lawn decorations when you were a kid, but you’d get so excited every year when your dad would drag the ladder out and spend the day stringing up the simple rainbow lights you did have. You still remember the little spark of joy you’d feel in your chest when the colors would click on after dark, the way you would run outside every night just to see them twinkle, your breath puffing steam clouds in the air, your bare feet freezing on the ice-cold driveway.

It felt like magic then. But somewhere along the way you grew up. And now that feeling’s gone. Even at night, the lights just look like… lights.

Distracted as you are by the music in your ears and thoughts of your childhood that have brought you to a standstill on the sidewalk, you don’t notice what’s happening until it’s too late.

A blur of red and white is suddenly circling around and between your legs, and you feel something twining over your ankles, then tugging with a force that threatens to knock you off balance. As you lean forward in an attempt to right yourself, the chaos in question slows enough for you to realize it’s a fluffy white dog in a red sweater, who has excitedly tangled you up in his leash.

You manage to find the looped end of the leash and slowly get yourself unwrapped while the dog continues to pant and jump and occasionally yap at you. With your legs freed, you squat down for a proper greeting, laughing to yourself as he lifts up on his hind legs, balancing his paws on your knee to lick an enthusiastic greeting across your cheek.

“Hi, puppy,” you murmur, trying to get him to hold still long enough to read the name on his tag. A voice beats you to it.

“Moni!”

When you glance up to find Moni’s owner jogging up the sidewalk, you have to make a conscious effort to keep your own tongue in your mouth, because good lord, he is fine.

He’s tall, towering over you even once you bring yourself back up to standing, and the black workout tank and athletic shorts he’s wearing do absolutely nothing to hide the thick, well-defined muscles of his arms, chest, and thighs.

Despite his lack of clothing in the cool winter air, you can see his face and neck are slick with sweat, his white-blonde hair damp with it too. There’s even a dark patch that’s soaked his shirt at his sternum, making the firm swell of his pecs that much more apparent. It takes you an extra second to break eye contact with them, but when you do finally manage to drag your gaze up to meet his, you realize his face is just as nice of a view: honey-tan skin, full lips, and cute dimples that pop as he gives a sheepish, appreciative laugh.

“Thank you,” he says, a little breathless; his voice is deep and slightly husky in a way that makes your face grow hot. You blink stupidly at him for a few moments, your mind reeling, and then it occurs to you that you still have his dog’s leash in your hand.

“No problem,” you manage, handing the looped end back over and double-checking to make sure your ankles are still free from their entanglement. Though now that this man is holding the leash, you kind of wish they weren’t.

“Moni’s usually good about not taking off when I stop to do a circuit,” he explains, like you’re the dog owner police. It makes you wonder what kind of Karens must have moved into this neighborhood since you left it. “I don’t know why he ran, maybe he saw a squirrel or something.”

“It’s okay,” you reassure him with a smile, admiring Moni as he stretches and settles into a polite seated pose. “I like his sweater.”

“Thanks,” he laughs again. “C’mon Mon.”

You can’t help focusing on how big this guy’s hands are as he slips his fingers through the end of Moni’s leash, tugging slightly as if to encourage the dog back in the direction he came from.

Moni blinks and stays right where he is.

“You little shit,” his owner huffs under his breath, and you have to bite down on your bottom lip to keep from laughing. You distantly realize you should probably leave them to it and continue on your walk, but this is too entertaining to turn away from now. Your hot neighbor tries one more futile attempt to get Moni to move, then seems to give up entirely.

He stoops down with a low grunt of effort that makes your core flutter as he grabs the fluffy dog and hoists him up in his arms. You try to force yourself to stop noticing the way his biceps flex, the fact that the muscles of his arms are nearly bigger than your head.

“Thanks again,” he says with a final grateful smile, and your only response is to swallow hard and stand there like an idiot as he turns and carries his spoiled dog back home.

When you arrive for your interview, you’re delighted to discover that Indigo Coffee is nothing like your last job. It’s warm and bright, with large picture windows that flood the space in sunlight, and there’s a cozy personal touch to it, the likes of which you’d certainly never see in your former corporate shell of a workplace. The sitting area is dotted with live edge wood tables and mismatched chairs. There are an array of framed paintings on the walls that look handmade in a good way, simple yet bold brush-stroke lines in a deep blue color scheme. And, you realize as your eyes linger, the shop is absolutely overflowing with plants: in simple clay pots lined up along the windows, free-standing between tables, and tucked into bookshelves placed artfully throughout the space.

You step closer to inspect one as you wait on your interviewer and are pleased to see that it’s real, that they all are— no waxy fake leaves jammed into a thick block of cement, but real greenery sprouted in real dirt, deep brown soil gone soft from what must have been a recent watering. These are plants someone cares for, coaxed and kept alive by someone’s time and patience and love. The thought makes you smile a little despite yourself.

There’s still fucking Christmas music playing, but you figure that’s inescapable this time of year.

“Are you here for the interview?” someone asks over your shoulder. As you turn away from the plant, you wonder if you’re imagining that the voice in question sounds slightly familiar, and then you find yourself once again staring up at a fine-ass man with white-blonde hair and a sweet pair of dimples.

He’s clearly showered since your last encounter, and is now slightly more covered up in a pair of faded jeans and a gray-green flannel thrown over a black shirt emblazoned with bold white lettering: Protect Trans Kids.

“Oh.” Moni’s owner blinks back at you, and the shock on his face is so apparent that a giggle escapes your lips before you can stop it. “Uh, hi again.”

“Hi,” you echo, equally flustered, before realizing you failed to answer his initial question. “Oh, yeah. Yes. I am. The interview. I’m— that’s me.” So well-spoken, you mentally kick yourself.

One dimple deepens slightly as he extends a hand. “Kim Namjoon. Owner of Indigo Coffee. And the world’s least obedient dog, as you saw earlier.”

You offer your best handshake in return and a smile that you surprisingly don’t have to force as you give Namjoon your name. He gestures to a table in the corner, and you each pull back a chair to have a seat. You try to banish any potential horny thoughts from your brain, but shifting into interview mode proves difficult as he rests his large hands on the table in front of him, drumming idly along to the horribly cheery music.

You manage to tear your gaze away from Namjoon’s fingers when he speaks again. “If it’s cool with you, we can just chat a little? I’m not so good at conducting formal interviews. Too inauthentic.”

It’s like you can feel some of the tension release from your shoulders. “I— yeah. That sounds great.”

“Cool,” he nods, and you try to ignore the rush of heat up your neck at the intensity of his stare. Professional, be professional. “So I saw on your resume that it looks like your last few jobs were out of town. Did you just move here?”

“Moved back,” you say quickly. “Yeah. I grew up here, actually.”

Namjoon’s eyes widen a little in clear interest. “Really? What brings you back?”

You purse your lips as you consider how to phrase it. “My life… kind of fell apart. So. I moved in with my parents for a bit. Like a winner.” His dimples pop when he smiles at your joke, and you drop your gaze to the table. “Just trying to figure out what’s next, and find something seasonal in the meantime.”

“Well, we could certainly use the help,” Namjoon admits. When you chance a glance up, there’s a look on his face like he’s choosing his next words carefully. “I saw in your application that you were terminated from your last position.” He leans in, lowering his voice slightly as he continues. “I’m gonna be honest, I hate that we even ask that question. But can you tell me a bit about what happened?”

You keep your stare fixed on the wood grain in front of you as you try to stay calm. “Well, if I can be honest too...” Squeezing your eyes shut, you tell yourself to just say it. “I was fired for trying to unionize.”

“Oh.” Namjoon sounds surprised, but you can’t manage to look at him. “Really?” You nod slowly, biting down on your bottom lip. “That’s— fucking illegal.”

That makes your gaze snap back up to meet his. His brow is furrowed slightly, a muscle in his jaw pulled tight.

“Yeah,” you say belatedly. “Yeah, I know. They made up a bunch of fake excuses as to why I was fired, but I knew what it really was. It was because I wanted them to actually pay us what we were worth, and hire more workers so we weren’t being scheduled to death. And I was getting everyone else riled up too, and I guess it scared them.”

Namjoon sits back in his chair, folding his arms over his chest. “Huh. Man. Well, I’m sorry that happened to you.”

It takes you a second to process what you’re hearing. Union has always been a scary word for any person in upper management you’ve previously encountered. You hadn’t expected this to be so… easy. For him to understand, or sympathize. “I— yeah. I am too.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” Namjoon continues quickly, “I think it’s great, what you tried to do. I’m very pro-union.” He pauses for a moment, his face twisting slightly in thought. “I mean, admittedly, we don’t have one here. Granted, there are only five of us. I should probably ask, though, if they want one.”

You can’t quite hide your smile. “I’m gonna take a guess that you probably treat your employees pretty well as-is.”

“I try,” he says with a shake of his head. His eyes meet yours again. “So, here’s the deal. You have a ton of experience, and with holiday time off and a few people out sick, I’m super understaffed right now. You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders, and hopefully you feel like you can come to me if you have any issues, without fearing retaliation.”

You blink slowly, and he must be able to read the disbelief on your face. “What I’m saying is I’m offering you the seasonal position,” he clarifies. “Is that— do you, uh, accept?”

“Yes.” The word is chased by a dazed laugh, and Namjoon’s dimples resurface around a small smile.

“Cool. I told you I’m bad at interviews,” he huffs, rubbing a hand at the back of his neck. You try to ignore the swell of his bicep, clearly visible even beneath his bulky flannel. “I know this is a lot to ask, but. Is there any chance you can start, like, right now? Because Jimin’s shift ends in…” He tilts a little, fishing his phone from the front pocket of his jeans, and his mouth drops open in surprise when he gets a glimpse at the time.

“Oh, shit,” Namjoon murmurs, and then he raises his voice to call across the mostly empty store. “Jimin-ah! I’m so sorry!”

You turn around, your gaze landing on the barista leaned up against the counter next to the register. His dyed-gray hair dusts over his eyes, which pull into crescent moons as he laughs. “It’s cool. I knew you were almost done. But I’m gonna clock out now, if she’s good?”

“Yeah,” you answer, turning back to Namjoon. “Yeah, I can start now.”

The two of you move behind the counter, and you sweep your hair up out of your face while Namjoon starts to go through a basic run-down of where everything is located. The overhead bell tinkles as Jimin shoulders the front door open, and he lifts a hand over his head in parting.

“See you after the holidays!”

“Alright,” Namjoon says as he waves to Jimin, a little breathless from having rambled on for the better part of several minutes. “That was a lot. Do you want to just start on register? I feel like that should be easy enough, and I can train you on everything as people come in, since it’s pretty dead right now.”

You shrug. “Works for me.”

Within half an hour, there’s a line out the door, and Namjoon has managed to spill espresso grounds all over his shoes for a second time.

“Ah, shit,” he groans, taking a step back. “Sorry. Been a minute since I’ve had to be back here.”

“It’s okay,” you try to reassure him, but you can see from the faces of the customers who have been waiting on their drinks for several minutes— including one who’s had hers remade three times, all of them incorrect— that it is very much not okay. You certainly lack the people skills to smooth over any of Namjoon’s mistakes, and you can feel a stress-induced eye twitch starting to flare up, brought on by Kelly Clarkson’s incessant yuletide belting.

You give your boss five more minutes, wherein he scalds his hand on the milk steamer, forgets about a cookie in the warmer until it’s burnt entirely black, and nearly turns the blender on with the lid off, before you finally intervene.

“Hey, Namjoon?” You do your best to keep your expression pleasant when he glances over at you, wiping at his brow with the back of his hand. “Maybe we should switch?”

“A-are you sure?” he stammers, apparently torn between wanting to be a good boss and a clear desire to just take the L. “I feel bad, this is literally your first shift.”

“I think I can handle it,” you reassure him, lowering your voice a little. “Let me take care of the drinks, and you can do your… endearing golden retriever thing. Keep the people entertained.”

Color blooms in the apples of his cheeks as his dimples make a brief appearance. “Oh, okay. Can do. Just let me know if you need help.”

You can’t imagine a universe where his clumsiness could in any way be considered helpful, but you keep that thought to yourself as you smile at him. At least he’s cute.

Things improve dramatically once your roles are reversed: as you expected, Namjoon is far more charismatic than he is coordinated, and he chats endlessly with the people waiting on their drinks, hardly pausing long enough to take a breath, while you scramble around trying to get your bearings in a new environment. The steady stream of customers doesn’t let up for the rest of the evening, until the last few finally trickle out of the store a few minutes after close, and you waste no time locking the door behind them with a sigh of relief.

You spin around, letting your back thud against the door for a moment as you watch Namjoon fight with a broom and dustpan in a futile attempt to get espresso dust out of the grout between the tiles. There’s a dull ache starting to thud in your skull, and it’s only deepened by the shrill opening notes of another fucking a cappella song.

“Namjoon?” you ask as you cross toward the counter, and his head instantly snaps up. “Do you think we could maybe turn off the Christmas music?”

“Oh, sure.” He’s already fumbling to grab his phone, and he taps a few buttons until the music suddenly switches, a soft voice starting to croon over an old school beat.

“Thanks,” you say, and you can’t help the pity smile that pulls up your mouth when he returns to his useless task. “I think the grout might be a lost cause, but I can go ahead and mop whenever you’re ready.”

He rights himself with a defeated sigh, nodding his head to the storage closet in the back. You follow his lead to retrieve the mop, then set about filling up the bucket with water and cleaning solution. Namjoon’s voice floats in from the front of the shop as he busies himself with his own closing tasks.

“Imagine smokin’ weed in the street without cops harassin’ / Imagine goin’ to court with no trial / Lifestyle cruisin’ blue Bahama waters / No welfare supporters, more conscious of the way we raise our daughters...”

You’re laughing a little as you roll the bucket out, starting at the door to work your way back. “Is this… Nas?”

He glances up, like he’s just remembered other people exist in the world. “Yeah, sorry. I can turn it off.”

“No, no,” you say quickly when he starts to reach for his phone again. “This is good. Much better than Pentatonix. I’m just… you really know every word.”

Namjoon shrugs, clearly embarrassed. “He’s my favorite.”

The revelation surprises you, and you pause to think as you pull the mop back and forth over the tile floor. It didn’t even occur to you that Namjoon would have a favorite kind of music, apart from the soft elevator muzak you imagine must play on a steady loop in his brain, given the way he fumbles through life.

“I actually wanted to be a rapper,” his voice comes back, and you look up again, your interest piqued. “When I was younger. But you know. Life had other plans.”

“Ah yes, the rapper to coffee shop owner pipeline,” you muse, and he barks a laugh that you wish you didn’t find so hot. Shaking your head, you force yourself to look back down at the espresso-studded tile, doing your best to shove your attraction aside and not think about it. He’s your boss, dumbass.

Still, it’s hard to ignore, particularly as he continues to rap along to each song that comes on, his voice deeper and huskier than you’ve heard it thus far in casual conversation. He doesn’t miss a word, and you can’t deny that it’s impressive. And sexy. Fuck.

Once the floor has been successfully mopped and everything else is put back together, you hop up onto the counter to wait for the tile to dry, and your gaze lingers over Namjoon’s large hands as he cashes out the register. He flips through the bills in time to the music, still humming under his breath as he goes, and you do your best to hold in your laugh when he inevitably loses count and has to start over from the beginning. Thankfully the second attempt sticks, and he smiles proudly to himself as he zips everything up into the deposit bag.

“First shift down,” he announces, as if you might have forgotten, and then his eyes find yours and you swear your breath gets stuck in your throat. “How do you feel?”

It only occurs to you now how close he’s standing to you, and with the way your legs are casually dangling over the edge of the counter, it wouldn’t take much for him to step between them. And god, he’s so damn tall, you’re practically eye-to-eye.

“Uh,” you manage, your mouth suddenly gone dry. “Good. I feel good.”

“That’s good,” he answers, his voice dipping into that throaty tone again. You find yourself wondering absentmindedly if maybe Namjoon has a customer service voice, too, and then for the briefest flash of a moment, his gaze flits from your eyes to your lips and back again. It’s so quick, you can’t be sure it even really happened.

You tell yourself it’s just your exhausted post-shift brain seeing things that aren’t there, wanting this fine-ass man to be into you, too.

A sudden bang on the front door makes you flinch so hard, you come dangerously close to kneeing Namjoon in the crotch. He takes a large step back as you whip around to look over your shoulder, only to see a kid’s face pressed to the glass, framed by two small hands. You’ve never been great at telling the age of children on sight, but this one looks like… maybe a middle schooler?

“Whose fucking kid is that?” you say automatically, blinking, dumbfounded. Namjoon’s laugh is a low rumble behind you.

“That would be mine.”

It takes several days for the shock to wear off. Your boss has a kid. Kim “could’ve burnt the building down with a single cookie” Namjoon is at least partially responsible for keeping another human being alive. Which means you have a crush… on a father.

A father who also happens to be your boss.

You try not to think about any of it.

There’d been brief introductions when you left the shop that first night, but all you’d really managed to glean was the kid’s name, Sol, and their pronouns. As someone who is historically terrible with children, you’d excused yourself the minute Namjoon locked the front door, after what felt like an eternity spent watching him pat each of his pockets twice before he finally managed to find his keys.

“I hope it wasn’t weird,” your boss says out of nowhere in the middle of your next shift, during a much-needed moment of peace after the morning rush. “For you to meet Sol like that. It’s just been hard, since their mom, uh…”

Namjoon trails off, leaving the sentence unfinished. You glance up, eyes widening as you put the pieces together.

“Oh my god,” you breathe. “I’m so sorry.”

His gaze meets yours, and it’s like you can see the wheels in his head turning before he catches up. “No, no,” he says quickly, and then he starts to laugh. “Wow, I really did not start that sentence well. She’s not dead. She just got married, and she’s on her honeymoon for most of December. The logistics have been hard, is what I meant.”

An embarrassed heat creeps up your neck, and your elbows thud against the countertop as you press your face into your hands, attempting to muffle your own laughter. “In my defense,” you groan, “you really made it sound like you had a dead wife.”

“Not dead! She’s fine!” Namjoon’s dimples are as prominent as you’ve ever seen them when you peek up at him from your full-body cringe. “Very much alive, very much not my wife.” The muscles in his arms flex as he crosses them over his chest, leaning up against the counter next to the register. “Never was, actually.”

“Really?” you answer automatically, your damned curiosity getting the better of you.

He nods, his voice a little more serious when he continues, rambling on in the way that you’ve already started to suspect is his default setting, talking as if to fill empty space. “We were seventeen when we got pregnant. I knew we were young then, but I don’t think I really realized. Now that I’m almost thirty, I know: seventeen is fucking young.”

The line of his jaw tightens, thoughtful, as his gaze sweeps over the floor. “I thought I wanted to marry her, or at least felt obligated to. Like it was the right thing to do, but. We didn’t have any money, and then it all got so hectic after Sol was born. Didn’t even take a year for us to realize it wasn’t gonna work, not for us.”

You blink, trying to take in all the new information. “That sounds really hard.”

“It was,” Namjoon admits. “But we were both on the same page about it. That no matter what, Sol had to come first.” He glances up with a shrug. “It’s all good now. She’s a great co-parent, and her new husband is really good for her. And… well, I have Indigo.”

The tinkling of the bell at the front door snaps you out of a daze, makes you realize you’ve been staring at him, dumbfounded. You do your best to shoot Namjoon a soft smile, and to ignore the pang in your chest as he turns to greet the customer that’s just wandered in, already starting to babble on about the weather.

You find yourself more grateful for Namjoon’s presence with each passing shift, in a way that you try to convince yourself is thoroughly platonic. Between fairly steady work and his very steady chatter, your time spent in the warm, sunny space of Indigo turns out to be a good distraction from your own miserable excuse for a life. The repetitive motions of making drink after drink are oddly comforting, and you have to admit, Namjoon really is good with the customers.

“Peppermint mocha to go.”

You do your best to follow up the sentence with a polite smile as you set a drink down for the customer who has done nothing but scowl at you the whole time you were making it. The silent prayer you’ve sent out to the universe that he’ll take whatever personal problem he has elsewhere and leave you alone has clearly gone unanswered.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” he snaps, and you can feel your shoulders creep up towards your ears in anticipation of nothing good. Here we fucking go.

You blink twice, trying to keep your service persona engaged. “I’m sorry, is that not what you ordered?” It is, you know it is, you heard him say it.

“No, that’s mine,” the man quickly responds, reaching out to snatch the cup in a motion that makes you flinch. “But do you hear this fucking song?”

The honest answer is no: at this point the ever-present Christmas music might as well be white noise, so you have to make a conscious effort to tune back in and listen. It’s a few seconds, and then you pick up on the melody. “…Last Christmas?”

“Uh, yeah,” he continues, explaining like you’re stupid. “The original. Last Christmas by Wham!” When it’s clear you still aren’t putting the pieces together, he scoffs in pure frustration. “You just made me lose Whamageddon! I’ve won every year for the last five years, I can’t believe you would even put this on your fucking playlist!”

Your face pulls into an incredulous grimace before you can think to control it. “Uh, I’m sorry, but I didn’t make the—”

He cuts you off. “First off, I don’t need the fucking attitude. And surely you’re at least capable of checking what songs are on there, right? That’s not too advanced for you to handle?”

You didn’t even hear Namjoon walk up from the back office, but he’s suddenly stepping in front of you, and you’re more than glad to move back and let him handle this dude before you end up in jail. “Woah, woah, alright,” Namjoon interjects, his voice loud enough to carry. “What’s going on?”

The man beats you to it. “I’m trying to file a legitimate complaint and she’s rolling her fucking eyes and getting an attitude with me!”

“It’s the song,” you explain briefly, trying to keep everything about your expression neutral. “He’s mad that we’re… playing Wham.”

Namjoon’s face twists in an expression that you would find funny if you weren’t so fucking livid, one that you’re pretty sure is the mirror image of your own reaction minutes earlier. “The song? Seriously?”

You can see the guy scrambling, clearly starting to get embarrassed at his own dramatics. “Alright, I don’t have time for this. I guess I just need to take my business elsewhere, because this is ridiculous. What ever happened to the customer is always right?”

Namjoon goes silent for a minute, and you try to ignore the way the look on his face makes your pulse quicken, thudding brightly in the hollow of your neck. His voice is deadly serious when he speaks again. “I appreciate that you’re upset, but if you’re going to look my employee in the face, after she just performed a service for you, and disrespect her like that? Over a fucking song? Nah, I’m not gonna tolerate it. Maybe the next time you want someone to make you a toothpaste drink, you should take your ass to Starbucks.”

It takes every ounce of strength you have to keep the reaction off your face until the asshole has stormed out the front door, nasty drink in hand. As the bell finally tinkles to signal his departure, you collapse forward, just barely catching yourself on the counter so you don’t crumple straight down to the floor.

“Oh my god.” Your laugh of disbelief comes out more like a groan, at the ridiculous complaint and your boss’ insanely attractive comeback alike. “I fucking hate this time of year.”

“Hey.” The word is punctuated by Namjoon’s shoulder bumping into yours, and you look back up at him, still laughing a little at your own misery. His eyes search yours, sincere. “Assholes are assholes no matter what season it is. I’m sure that guy finds plenty of things to complain about the other eleven months of the year, too. Don’t let him ruin it for you.”

You can’t help rolling your eyes, if only because you can do it freely now, without a man standing over you and yelling about your ‘bad attitude’. “I guess,” you huff. “And thank you.”

Namjoon shakes his head, like it’s nothing. “Chin up, okay?”

The two of you breeze through closing that night, familiar enough to fall into a steady routine now. You’re wiping everything down behind the counter and humming along to Tupac when Namjoon’s voice drags you back out of your thoughts in a way you’ve already grown accustomed to.

“You know…”

You glance up, only to realize that he’s started to flip chairs on top of tables to clear the floor, and is grabbing them two at a time, one in each hand. The image makes you a little dizzy, and you tell yourself to focus on his words, not his biceps.

“I think we make a pretty good team,” he concludes.

“Yeah,” you breathe, trying to keep your composure at the unexpected compliment. “I was thinking the same thing. And thanks again for, you know. Handling that guy.”

Namjoon shrugs, like it’s nothing. “Hey, you’re doing me a favor, taking this seasonal job. I’m not about to let anyone fuck with you.”

You bite down on a smile as you head towards the back to grab the mop, and then you hear a loud bang on the front door— it’s another sound you’ve gotten used to in your brief time at Indigo. There’s the click of the deadbolt, chased by the tinkling overhead bell and Namjoon’s chiding voice. “Homie, if you break my door I’m gonna make you get a job to pay me back for it.”

“You think I don’t know about child labor laws?” you hear Sol retort, clearly not intimidated, and the attitude in their voice has you biting back a laugh.

Wheeling the mop bucket out of the storage closet, you glance up to see Namjoon jut his chin toward the large front window, indicating Sol to take a seat on the ledge. “Feet off the floor, she’s tryna clean.”

Sol complies, plopping down in the window with their eyes glued to their phone as Namjoon disappears back toward the office to grab his things. You watch as Sol pulls their knees into their chest so their chunky black boots clear the tile, and you can’t help noticing that said boots are adorned with oversized silver bat-shaped buckles, reflecting the amber streetlight gleam that leaks through the window.

“I like your boots,” you say, more to yourself than Sol, half expecting them to be so engrossed in TikTok that they don’t even hear you.

But to your surprise, Sol looks up.

“Thanks,” they say, glancing at their feet. “I just got them. I’m in my post-hardcore era right now.”

The statement is delivered without a trace of irony, and you do your best to hold in another amused giggle as you respond. “Wow, you are… so much cooler than I was when I was your age.”

Sol seems to consider this for a moment, then shrugs. “I mean, you didn’t have the internet back then, right?”

The question hits you like a train, and you have to pause and press a hand over your heart at the impact. “Okay, ouch, I’m not that old.” They grimace apologetically, and you lean up against the mop handle in thought. “But the internet definitely wasn’t like it is now. The only social media that really existed was Myspace, and my parents wouldn’t let me make one. I mostly just used the internet to, like, play RuneScape.”

“Oh shit,” Sol remarks, sounding remarkably like Namjoon in the process. “You played old school?!”

It’s like you can feel your bones crumbling to dust inside your body, and you wince as you resume dragging the mop over the tile. “Hey, back then it was the only kind of RuneScape we had. But yes, you can consider me a… founding father of that game.”

“That’s cool!” they exclaim, sounding so genuine it makes your head spin. When did RuneScape become cool again? “My friends and I play old school all the time. It’s the best, for real.”

You shake your head in disbelief as you continue to mop, and a long pause settles between you, with Sol’s interest clearly returning to their phone.

Fuck, you think to yourself, what else do kids even talk about? Marvel movies? It’s like your mind has gone totally blank, unable to conjure up a single topic of conversation, and you practically huff out an audible sigh of relief when their voice breaks the silence again.

“I think my dad has been happier since you started working here.”

The mop nearly slips out of your hands entirely, and you glance up, eyes wide. “I— really?”

Sol nods, playing absentmindedly with the strings of their black hoodie, then bringing the end of one up to their mouth to gently chew on. “It’s a theory I have. A game theory. I plan to ask additional follow-up questions tonight.”

At this, you can’t help but laugh. “Well, I’m sure your investigation will be very thorough.”

There’s a flash of a dimple in Sol’s cheek, like the mirror image of their dad. “I can tell you what he says, if you want.”

You wonder how telling your own smile is. “I mean… I can’t say I’m not curious.” You’re distantly aware of the sound of the office door closing, chased by Joon whistling to himself, and you lower your voice conspiratorially as you drop the mop back into the bucket. “I look forward to hearing what you find out.”

Monday morning, when you wake up to the omnipresent smize of Nick Jonas, you can’t help smiling back.

You made it through your first week of work, and it wasn’t even that torturous. And best of all, Namjoon reminded you the night before that Indigo is closed on Mondays, which gives you an entire day to spend as you please. A real day off, which was truly unheard of at your last job, where you’d spend your non-scheduled days still anticipating an incoming emergency text asking you to cover a shift last-minute. More often than not, you’d end up working after all.

“But not today,” you announce to Nick.

A grand plan has already started to form in your head, one that involves a party size bag of Hot Cheetos and all eight episodes of The Fabulous, and yet. There’s a lingering urge at the back of your brain that you can’t quite ignore. With all the day-off energy you can muster, you drag yourself out of bed and tug on a pair of leggings and a sweatshirt, then shuffle into the bathroom to at least make yourself halfway decent.

You’re just going for a quick walk around the block to get some fresh air, you tell yourself. That’s all. Certainly no other reason.

It’s only a few minutes after you step out your front door that a fluffy white blur nearly collides with your shins, and when you stoop down to lift Moni into your arms, you once again can’t keep the smile off your face. Huh, who could’ve seen this coming?

But when you glance up, there’s no hot buff man jogging up the sidewalk after his dog. In fact, you realize as you look back at the ball of fluff in your arms, he isn’t wearing a leash or harness at all, just another cute sweater.

“Are you even supposed to be out here?” you ask Moni. His only answer is to drag his tongue up the side of your face.

You shift him a little in your arms so you can fumble for the tag attached to his collar, and thankfully, there’s an address listed. It takes you a second to get your bearings in the neighborhood, having not lived here for close to a decade, but it eventually comes back to you where the listed street is, and you start to walk. Moni is already blinking sleepily in your arms, clearly enjoying his preferred mode of transportation.

A laugh bubbles up in your chest as you approach the house in question— even if you hadn’t had Moni’s tag to guide you, finding his home would’ve been easy enough as soon as you passed this street, because you can hear old school hip-hop bumping through a speaker despite still being several houses down the block. You suppose Namjoon can get away with it during the day, when all the neighborhood kids are still in school.

As you make your way up the driveway, you realize the music is actually coming from behind the house, and when you follow the path that leads around back, you spot the culprit: a simple wooden-slat fence surrounds the yard, and the gate has been left wide open.

Before you can even make it over the threshold, a familiar voice reaches your ears, sounding much closer than the music. “Ah, shit.”

Namjoon comes barreling through the open gate so fast he practically runs you over, and Moni yaps, like he’s annoyed at being jostled as you quickly try to stumble out of his owner’s path.

“Oh. Uh, hi.”

You wonder if you’ll ever be able to take in how shock looks on Namjoon’s features without giggling a little. Today is certainly not that day. It’s just so endearing, the way his eyes widen and his mouth pulls into a perfect o-shape.

“Hi,” you breathe out around your laughter, trying to ignore the heat that flushes into your face when his dimples appear in return. “I think I found something that belongs to you.”

With a wave of his hand and several profuse thank yous, you follow Namjoon back through the gate, and wait until he firmly shuts it behind you before letting Moni down to trot off across the yard. It’s only now that you take Namjoon in properly: he’s in a gray hoodie under a pair of denim overalls, both of which are splattered artfully with paint in a variety of colors.

“I was just in my studio,” he explains, tipping his head toward the small shed in the yard, which you quickly realize is also the source of the music that led you here. “Doin’ some art. Do you, uh… wanna see?”

“Yeah, okay,” you answer with a nod.

“Fair warning, I’m really bad at it,” he calls over his shoulder as he leads you in the open studio door, raising his voice to be heard over the music. He reaches for his phone, propped up in the windowsill, to turn the volume down a few notches.

There’s an easel up against the far wall holding what must be his current project, a half-finished scene that you realize upon closer inspection is thousands of tiny dots of color, painstakingly blotted onto the canvas to form a mountain landscape at a distance. A few more pieces that he’s already completed have been leaned up against another wall to dry, one featuring an abstract array of featherlight brushstrokes, and another where the paint’s been globbed on in thick layers.

Namjoon is talking a mile a minute as you inspect the canvases. “I thought maybe I’d do cyanotypes today, but it’s not sunny enough, and I’ve made that mistake before. I’m really into texture right now, so I’m trying out some different techniques with paint. I want to get better at pointillism, but it’s a lot harder than you’d think it would be. ‘Cause it’s just dots, right? But you have to be able to see the forest for the trees, too.”

“These are amazing,” you finally manage to murmur, and to your surprise, the compliment actually renders him silent. When you turn back over your shoulder to look at him, he’s glancing down, almost like he’s embarrassed.

“Thanks. But I just do it for fun. ‘Cause I love art.”

“I can tell,” you say, and when he looks up, you offer him a smile you hope reads as encouraging. “Did you make the art at work, too?”

He nods, still sheepish, and that answer also surprises you. You recall thinking on your first day that the paintings hung on the walls looked handmade, but it never crossed your mind that they might have been made by Namjoon’s hands. Maybe because you’ve grown so accustomed to seeing him drop and break things, you haven’t ever considered him as also capable of… creation.

And yet, here he is. Proving you wrong.

“Sorry,” Namjoon’s voice makes you refocus on him, and your brow furrows in confusion at the unexpected apology. “This is literally your one day away from me and here I am, taking up your time. Thanks again for bringing Moni back.”

“It’s okay.” You shrug. “Don’t have much going on today, honestly. I never really know what to do with myself when I’m not working. Which I’m aware is very sad.”

“Well, uh,” Namjoon starts, and when he takes a single step closer, you swear you feel something flutter in your stomach— or maybe lower. “Sol’s got a half-day today, since it’s the last day before break, so I’m picking them up in a bit. And we were gonna go on a hike, probably take Moni too. You’re welcome to join us, if you’d like?”

Your eyes widen at the invitation. “Oh. That sounds great. I mean, if you’re sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

He shakes his head, the corner of his mouth pulling up just so. “Nah. I actually think Sol really likes you. At least, they wouldn’t stop asking questions about you at dinner last night.”

“Is that right?” You do your best to keep your expression neutral.

Namjoon drives far enough north that there’s actually snow on the ground when you climb out of his front seat. You shove your hands into the pockets of your jacket as you follow him across the gravel parking lot towards the trailhead, a few paces behind Sol and Moni.

Sol shoots an expression of pure mischief at you over their shoulder, and then immediately starts to sprint up the marked path through the woods, Moni easily keeping up.

“Bye, nerds!” you hear them call before they disappear between the trees.

“Stay on the trail!” Namjoon shouts back, sounding as dad-like as you’ve ever heard him, and you can’t help but laugh. The two of you quicken your steps slightly to not fall too far behind, tracking the set of boot and paw-prints they’ve left to mark their trail.

For a moment, it’s silent between you, save the crunching of snow underfoot. It’s nice, being out in nature like this, time spent with Namjoon where you aren’t suffering through Christmas music and ungrateful customers. Where you can just… breathe. It makes you feel a little less sorry for yourself, a little less fixated on your own miserable life.

You glance over at him as that strange seasonal melancholy starts to settle into your bones again. “Are the holidays… better? With a kid?”

Namjoon makes a face, like he’s surprised by the question. “I mean, they’re definitely different. Then again, it’s been a long time since I did the holidays without a kid— not since I was a kid myself. What do you mean by better?”

Self-consciousness washes over you, your gaze drifting down to the path beneath your feet. “I don’t know, there’s just… I can’t shake this weird feeling now that I’m back home. This time of year used to be so exciting for me when I was Sol’s age. Everything felt special. Magical. But now I’m back here, and nothing’s really changed, except me. But I just keep feeling like the magic is gone. It’s… sad.”

He nods, taking a moment before he responds, and he’s chuckling softly to himself when he finally does. “You know, it’s kinda funny. When Sol was younger I actually felt a lot of stress this time of year. I couldn’t really enjoy it, because I was too busy trying to make sure that they had the best holiday I could possibly give them. That they didn’t feel like they were getting any less, since, you know. Their mom and I aren’t together. It’s funny that you bring up the magic, because I put a lot of pressure on myself to make that magic happen. But now that they’re a little older, I don’t know, it’s different.”

“Different how?” you prompt.

A dimple deepens as he hesitates. “It’s gonna sound corny. But really, I realized that the holidays aren’t about the gifts, or the decorations, or every little thing going perfect. You can make yourself sick over that shit, and I did, but kids don’t really care about it.” He pauses, and for a second you think that might be it, but then he keeps going, eyes fixed on the towering pine trees ahead of you.

“The year I opened Indigo, I had sank so much fucking money into it that I was broke. Broke broke. I couldn’t afford a single gift, a tree, not even a turkey. Sol and I sat on the floor of my shitty apartment and ate Chapagetti and watched Friends. And I felt like the biggest fucking failure imaginable. And then you know what happened?”

“What?”

“Sol turned to me, and they said, ‘This is the best Christmas ever, because we get to hang out, just the two of us.’” He blinks a few times, like he’s trying to ward off tears, and his voice comes back slightly less steady than before. “I still don’t know if they said that because they really meant it, or if they could just tell that I needed to hear it. But either way, I thought to myself: how fucking lucky am I, to have such a great kid? Like what did I ever do to deserve them? I still feel that way.”

Namjoon shrugs, as if to shake off the emotion. “I don’t know. Maybe that’s not helpful to you, but. I just see it differently now. It’s not about the what, or the how. It’s about the who. Spending this time of year with the people you care about, and making sure they know you do. That’s the real magic.”

You realize the trail has carried you up the sloping hillside, and is now flattening out at the edge of a clearing, where you can see Moni chasing Sol through the snow, can hear their high-pitched laughter ringing out in the wide-open air.

When you turn back to Namjoon, he’s already looking at you.

“I’m sorry you don’t feel the magic right now. I didn’t either, for a long time. But it does come back, I believe that. It’ll come back for you, too.”

You blink up at him, overwhelmed by his willingness to be so honest, and by the wisdom of his words. “I— thank you,” you finally manage to say.

Namjoon doesn’t answer, just glances up to where Sol and Moni are still playing, and your gaze follows his out over the snow-covered field. Sol is dusting off a sizable stick, and they call out for Moni to fetch before launching it into a dramatic arc, high up in the air.

Moni watches it go, entirely disinterested, then settles onto his haunches in the snow with a yawn.

“You’re so bad at being a dog!” Sol shouts, and that’s enough to make you and Namjoon both dissolve into laughter. They look up at the sound, hands-on-hips, before yelling again, this time in your direction. “My dad said he has a crush on you!”

Your jaw drops open, and Namjoon’s eyes are wide as you’ve ever seen them when you look up at him.

“Damn, dude, you said you were gonna be chill about it!” he exclaims, and you press a hand to your mouth as a fresh wave of giggles overtakes you. Given how long Namjoon’s legs are, it only takes him a few strides to catch up to Sol. You stay a tentative distance behind him, but still close enough to be able to make out their conversation.

“Uncle Hobi says you need to be bolder with women,” Sol chides, matter-of-fact.

“Uncle Hobi says a lot of shit,” Namjoon mutters under his breath.

“He painted my nails,” Sol raises their voice, clearly talking more to you than to their dad, and holds up a hand for you to see, waggling their fingers proudly.

“They look great,” you call out in response.

Namjoon turns back to you as you step in closer, then juts his chin to a bench at the other side of the clearing. “Sit with me for a sec?”

With a nod, you follow him over, and he wipes the metal surface free of snow with his sleeve before gesturing for you to have a seat. For a moment, the two of you sit silently and watch Sol, who is already busying themself with building a snowperson while Moni slow-blinks encouragingly from a distance.

Namjoon’s words chase a heavy sigh. “I’m gonna be real with you, despite the fact that my child just stole my thunder. I like you a lot.”

Your heart swells in your chest, threatening to burst. “I-I like you too,” you stammer back immediately. “Have definitely been harboring my own crush… basically since I started working at Indigo.”

When you turn to look at him, it surprises you a little that he isn’t smiling. You can see a muscle working in his jaw, like he’s nervous.

“That’s the thing,” he finally relents. “Work. I don’t— I hadn’t really planned to tell you how I was feeling, or act on it. Because I’m your boss, and that means, you know. There’s a power dynamic there. And it would be… unethical of me to blur the lines like that, by getting involved with my employee. I wanted you to come out with us today because it was a chance for you and I to be equals, outside of work, but it’s not like that dynamic just goes away, you know? And I feel a little guilty about it now. Because I really like being around you so much, but I just. We can’t. It wouldn’t be right. Not while you’re working for me.”

You stare down at the snow under your boots as you take in his words, and you can’t help it. Try as you might to sit there and take his worries seriously, laughter flutters out of you before you can hold it in.

“What?” Namjoon asks, and you shake your head, trying to compose yourself.

“I really, really appreciate that you gave it so much thought,” you say, willing your voice to stay even. “I mean it.”

“It’s weighed really heavy on me, if I’m honest,” he says solemnly, and you glance over to see him staring into the middle distance, like he’s deep in contemplation.

Before you can stop yourself, you’re reaching out to where his hand rests on the bench between you and covering it with your own.

“Namjoon?” you ask softly, and it seems to snap him out of his trance enough to look back at you.

“Please don’t take this the wrong way,” you preface. “But if I have to choose between you and my stupid seasonal coffee shop job?” The smile starts to flicker over your face again. “Then I quit. I quit right now.”

“Oh thank god,” Namjoon breathes, and you can only make a soft noise of surprise when all at once, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. You need a split second for the shock to wear off, and then you’re moving your mouth against his, one hand fisting tight in the fabric of his jacket. His lips are full and warm, and it feels like far too soon that he’s pulling back again, his cheeks flushed with color.

“Will you, uh—” he pauses, like he’s remembering how to form a sentence. “Will you still work tomorrow though? Jimin’s back after Christmas, but I really don’t think I can survive a shift on my own.”

“Yeah,” you murmur, still a little breathless from his kiss. “Yeah, I think you’d burn the place down.”

Unable to deny the claim, he laughs brightly as you untangle from each other, then gets to his feet before offering a hand to help you up. “We should head out, it’s gonna get dark soon.”

It’s true: across the wide clearing you can already see the sun threatening to sink back down between the trees, casting a golden-pink light that gleams off the snow and paints the world in warmth.

Sol leads the way back through the woods to the car, tugging Moni along by their leash, while you and Namjoon bring up the rear. You glance over at him a few times to catch him staring, and you scrape your teeth across your bottom lip, unable to keep the smile off your face, unable to stop yourself from mentally replaying the moment when he kissed you, over and over.

Just as you step under the shadow of a large tree, snow-covered branches stretching up toward the clear sky above you, Namjoon stops in the path. It’s so abrupt that you continue a few more paces before you even realize, and then you stop, too, glancing back towards him.

“Hey Sol,” Namjoon calls. “Think you and Moni can make it all the way back to the car in ten seconds?”

“I know what you’re doing,” comes Sol’s cheeky reply, but when Namjoon starts counting backwards from ten, you can hear the crunch of their boots taking off down the path.

“Eight, seven, six…” You watch as Namjoon cranes his neck until he deems Sol far enough out of sight, taking a step toward you as his counting trails off, and you find yourself pulled into him like a magnet. “Come here,” he murmurs, and then his hands are slipping up your waist and guiding you backwards until your back hits the trunk of the tree.

In true Namjoon fashion, he uses way more strength than is necessary for the task, and though your winter jacket cushions you from the impact, you’re smacked against the bark so hard that it knocks a dusting of snow off the branches above you, covering you both in flakes that stick to your hair and eyelashes. The sudden rush of cold makes you gasp into Namjoon’s mouth, but then he’s rolling his tongue over yours and you can’t think about anything else. A heavy pulse has started to thud between your legs at the heat of his breath in your mouth, the way his hips have you pinned to the tree, his body big enough to cover yours entirely.

“Joon,” you find the air to breathe as his lips trail hungrily down the slope of your neck. You rake a hand through his hair, white-blonde strands studded with snow, to try and pull his attention back, despite very much not wanting him to stop. “Joon, we should go. Before someone steals your kid.”

“Yeah,” he murmurs against your skin, and then his mouth is on yours again for one more kiss, like he can’t get enough. “Okay,” he finally grunts as he pulls away, sounding as begrudgingly responsible as you feel. Your head is still spinning; you want nothing more than to stay here and let him kiss you dizzy.

“Let’s go.”

He takes a step back so you can right yourself, reaching out to dust some snow off your jacket, and then the two of you resume walking up the path, sharing a breathless laugh like confidantes. You assume it’s just his standard clumsiness when Namjoon’s hand knocks into yours, but then his fingers are twining through yours purposefully, until you’re pressed palm to palm.

The rush of heat that blooms in your chest at his touch keeps you warm the rest of the way to the car.

Your last shift at Indigo somehow manages to feel exactly like every shift that’s come before it and completely new at the same time.

The work is the same, the steady stream of customers unchanged, the Christmas music still an aggravating soundtrack. But you no longer feel like you have to ignore the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when Namjoon asks you a question, or meets your gaze across the shop.

The only urges you have to suppress are indecent ones, made worse by Namjoon seemingly taking advantage of every opportunity to touch you: hip-checking you when you’re both standing at the front counter, pressing a hand to the small of your back whenever he has to squeeze behind you, leaning in a little closer than necessary to be heard over the noise of the milk steamer. It’s enough to make your breath hitch each time, and you can’t help but wonder if he feels the same relief at not having to hold back anymore.

Towards the end of the night, it surprises you when the typically consistent flow of customers starts to slow down, until it seems to have ceased entirely. You still have two hours to go, but you find yourself staring at the walls, every table empty, having done all the side work you can think of to distract yourself from boredom.

The sound of the front door’s lock clicking shut makes you glance up, only to see Namjoon flipping the open sign over.

“What are you doing?” you ask, blinking dumbfounded, and he looks over his shoulder at you with a shrug.

“It’s Christmas Eve Eve, and I’m the owner, so. We’re closing early. Effective immediately.” The decree makes you laugh a little, and his dimples wink back. “Let’s finish cleaning, I wanna show you something.”

In record time, you find yourself standing outside the front door of Indigo as Namjoon locks up, only tonight your hands are kept warm by the hot chocolates he’d made for the two of you as you closed. He takes his cup back once his hands are free, and you try a tentative sip from yours, now cool enough to drink without burning your mouth. Given what you witnessed of his barista abilities on your first day, you brace yourself for the worst, but your eyes widen in pleasant surprise when the liquid hits your tongue.

“Being a dad means getting really good at a few specific things,” he says by way of explanation as he unlocks his car doors, and you smile as you slip into the passenger seat.

It occurs to you as Namjoon starts to drive that you don’t actually know where he’s taking you, but when you open your mouth to ask at the next red light, he leans over you to fumble open the glovebox and you lose your train of thought. He fishes inside for a few seconds before retrieving a CD case, then makes quick work of prying it open and sliding the disc into the slot on the dash. You attempt to hide your giggle behind the rim of your cup.

“No wonder you like ‘90s music so much. You’re still living there,” you say, nodding to his antiquated stereo, and he smirks as he turns up the volume.

“This is A Tribe Called Quest,” he remarks, quirking an eyebrow when he looks back at you. “You better show some respect.”

“Yes, sir,” you tease in response, and you don’t miss the color that flushes his cheeks.

The light turns green and he accelerates through the intersection, one hand on the steering wheel, the other reaching across the center console to grip playfully at your leg, a few inches above your knee. You can see his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek, like he’s considering saying something, but when he finally opens his mouth, it’s just to rap along to the music.

It’s only a few songs later that he’s turning off the main road and following a barely-lit gravel path up to a large grassy parking lot, where he pulls into a space and kills the engine. You squint through the windshield, tucking your now-empty drink into the cupholder, but you can’t make out much except dusk and some vague lights over a hill in the distance.

“Was this crush thing just a ploy to murder me?” you quip, and Namjoon looks a little nervous when you glance over, like he took the question to heart. “I’m kidding,” you clarify quickly.

His voice comes out surprisingly soft. “This is one of my favorite things to do during the holidays. Thought it might help with, you know. The magic.”

Something cracks open inside you as you look back at him. “That’s… really sweet.”

“Ah,” he says, as if to dismiss the compliment. “You haven’t seen it yet. Maybe you’ll hate it. Come on.”

The two of you climb out of his car to start your trek to whatever he has in store, heading in the direction of the lights, and Namjoon’s hand slips into yours, like it’s already second nature. Easy and sweet. You grip tight to him, the night air colder now than it was when you left work, but then you finally crest over the hill, and the temperature is suddenly the furthest thing from your mind.

It takes you a moment to even understand what you’re looking at. The place is clearly some kind of arboretum, as the path ahead of you snakes through a perfectly manicured garden of various plants, but the only thing you can focus on are the lights. Every tree, bush, shrub, and other kind of greenery that lines the walkway has been intricately strung up with lights, each one boasting a different hue. The end result is nothing short of dazzling— a veritable rainbow of light and life and color, glittering diamond-bright against the deep-set night around you.

“Namjoon,” you breathe. “This is beautiful.”

There’s a dimple flickering at the corner of his mouth when you look up at him. “Thought you might like it.”

“I can’t believe I never knew this was here,” you remark, your eyes wide and blinking as you try to take it all in.

“Hey,” he answers with a shrug. “Maybe your hometown still has a few good surprises left in it.” You exhale a laugh as you lean into his side and he squeezes your joined hands; you can’t help feeling like you’ve already found the greatest surprise of them all.

After an hour spent wandering through the displays, each one more breathtaking than the last, Namjoon diverts you toward a small food stand. He comes away from the counter with a paper carton filled to the brim with long ropes of twisted, fried dough, warm enough to release steam into the air when you tear one apart to share, and dusted with cinnamon sugar that sticks to your fingertips.

The two of you take a few steps back down the path until you’re under an archway of glowing golden lights, then eventually come to a standstill, too hungry to do anything except devour your food.

Namjoon speaks first, mid-chew. “Can I ask you a question?”

“What’s up?” you answer as you reach for another piece.

He swallows, swiping the back of his hand over his mouth before he continues. “At your interview, you said your life fell apart. What happened?”

“Oh.” You smirk as you rip the braided dough in two, then in two again, before popping it into your mouth. “It seems a little silly now, but. I got fired from that last job, like I told you. And the same day, my roommate pretty much kicked me out of the apartment, because he wanted his boyfriend to move in. He was also my best friend, so. It stung a little. A lot. Moving back in with your parents at this age is humbling, to say the least. Feels a lot like starting over.”

Namjoon hums, like he understands. “I’m sorry about your friend.”

“Eh,” you respond noncommittally. “I should probably be happy for him. The timing just… wasn’t amazing.”

“You know,” he murmurs, thoughtful. “I thought my life was over when my ex and I got pregnant. Not even eighteen and about to be a dad. I really felt like… I don’t know, like that was it for me.” You nod slowly, unable to even fathom what that must’ve been like.

“But, here I am. Still alive.” Namjoon flashes you a grin, and you find yourself smiling back. “Still figuring it out. I actually feel like I’ve learned a lot from watching Sol grow up. They’re like—” He shakes his head, as if at a momentary loss for words. “They’re like a different person every month, I swear. What they’re into, how they dress. Who they wanna be. It makes me feel, I don’t know. Like it’s okay. Like I can change too.” He shrugs. “That’s the thing about life. It’s long. And even when you feel like it’s ended… it keeps going anyway.”

His words wash over you, and you’re so in awe that you can’t help but laugh.

“Ah, sorry.” He grimaces, suddenly self-conscious. “I know that was corny.”

“No, no,” you interject, trying to keep your composure. “I just think you are like, literally the wisest person I’ve ever met.”

The lights glimmering overhead aren’t enough to hide the way Namjoon blushes at the compliment, and then he pauses, as if recalling something. “Didn’t I nearly run the blender with the lid off on your first day?”

You double-over at the memory, and he’s laughing now, too. “Okay, okay. Fair point.”

The thought keeps circling around in your brain as you dust cinnamon sugar from each other’s jackets and continue your way around the rest of the gardens, occasionally pausing to trade sticky-sweet kisses in the twinkling glow: you don’t want the night to end. You keep glancing over at Namjoon, wondering if he’s feeling the same way as he drives you back into town, the heat in his car on full blast, the CD player still underscoring your conversation.

“So, what do your Christmas plans look like?” he asks, eyes flitting briefly from the road to meet your gaze.

You fiddle with a button on your coat, wishing you had a less depressing answer. “I was just gonna spend it by myself. My parents already had a vacation in Hawaii planned, so I’m gonna do what I always do: hole up with booze and snacks and wait for it all to be over.”

He chuckles, tapping his fingertips absentmindedly against the steering wheel. “Well, I have about a hundred presents to wrap tomorrow night while Sol’s at their mom’s. Why don’t you come over and help? I can even provide the booze.” There’s a pause, and his voice comes back softer before you can respond. “You shouldn’t be alone.”

The corner of your mouth tugs up at his sincerity, the way he gently cares for you, has since day one. “Yeah, okay. I mean, you had me at free alcohol.”

Just like that, Namjoon is already turning back into the Indigo parking lot, where your car sits waiting for you. The two of you shrug off your seatbelts once he’s pulled into a space and parked, and he reaches to turn down the music before shifting in his seat to get a better look at you.

“So,” he starts, clearing his throat a little. “You are officially no longer my employee.”

“And you are no longer my boss,” you answer back, and a thrill buzzes in your chest at the statement.

“Which means,” he continues, doing his best to lean over the center console, “I can do this.” He barely finishes getting the words out before his mouth is on yours, your eyes fluttering closed, his kisses far less chaste than the ones you shared earlier. They’re open-mouthed and urgent this time, with Namjoon slipping his tongue into the heat of your mouth like he’s been waiting all night for it.

“Uh-huh,” you murmur between kisses, and then he dips his head lower, until his lips find the join of your neck and shoulder.

“And this,” he purrs before kissing you just as hungrily there, tongue-first. You can’t hold back the soft noise his mouth pulls out of you.

“Fuck,” you breathe as he sucks gently over the same spot, with just enough pressure to make you writhe in your seat. A shiver rolls up your spine when he hums against your skin, clearly pleased at your reaction.

“And, uh…” You slowly blink your eyes open when you feel the warmth of his breath dissipate, and he’s looking at you with his brow furrowed, as if attempting some difficult mental math. “Actually—” He reaches down for the lever to adjust his seat, and it drops all the way back with a graceless thud that makes a laugh flutter out of you. “Maybe you could take your jacket off and come over here?”

You don’t need him to ask you twice, and you’re moving quickly as you peel out of the thick material and scramble across the console to straddle him. You both groan a little when you duck down to press your mouth to his again, all of this suddenly feeling much more real now that you’re basically horizontal. His hands alight on your hips, tentative, like he isn’t quite sure what to do with them, and you smile against his lips.

“Touch me, Joon,” you instruct, and he does as he’s told.

His hands are warm as he slips them beneath the hem of your shirt, trailing over your skin until he reaches the band of your bra. When you hum encouragingly into his mouth, he keeps going, pushing the fabric up your chest so your tits spill free from their confinement. He cups one in each hand, and though you might’ve expected him to be clumsy or rough, given everything you’ve seen of him thus far, you’re surprised to instead find that he’s gentle, thumbs circling your nipples with just the right amount of pressure to tighten them into stiff peaks.

Unable to bite back your whimper at the heat that blossoms through you at his touch, at how much more of him you need, you pull away just enough to break your kiss, glancing up through the back window of his car to confirm the parking lot is still empty.

Namjoon groans low in his throat when you reach down to tug up the hem of your shirt, shifting a little on top of him to give him better access. He doesn’t hesitate, thumb still working at one nipple while he takes the other into his mouth, and your sigh of relief comes edged with a soft moan when he swirls his tongue over the bud of your breast.

“Shit,” you gasp. “Feels so fucking good.”

He pulls off with a wet pop to switch sides, and the slick heat of his mouth sends bolt after bolt of arousal through you until there’s a dull ache of need thudding between your legs. As you roll your hips in desperate search of friction, you can feel him beneath you, straining hard against the fabric of his jeans.

Namjoon pulls his mouth off your breast, letting out a hoarse laugh when you shift to drop your forehead against his collarbone with a groan, horny enough to practically be delirious. “I hate that I’m even saying this,” he rasps, “but I really can’t have sex in a car. I’m too—”

“Big?” you offer, and there’s a smile on his lips as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I was going to say old.”

You can’t help giggling as you lean up to find his mouth with yours again. Namjoon kisses you a little while longer, lazily, his hands still kneading gently at your tits, until he finally tips his head back, heaving a sigh up to the roof of his car. “Okay, okay. You should go.” His tone is reluctant, like it’s the last thing he wants. “It’s late. And my jeans fucking hurt.”

There’s a self-satisfied smirk toying at your mouth as you sit up, tugging your bra and shirt back into place and not missing the bulge in Namjoon’s pants where your hips meet his. “I will take the blame for that one.”

He folds his hands behind his head, biceps and dimples on full display. “Damn straight.”

You lean down for one more kiss, letting it linger before you make your way back over the center console to retrieve your jacket. “Have a good night, Joon,” you murmur as you reach for the door handle, and when you glance back, his eyes are fixed on you, still heavy-lidded with lust.

“Get home safe. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I have booze, as promised.” Namjoon’s voice echoes in from the kitchen as you kick off your boots and hang your coat up at his front door come Christmas Eve. The aroma hits your nose as your socked feet pad down the hall to follow him: the spice of cinnamon and clove, paired with a hint of citrus. It smells like the holidays, like home.

“Mulled wine?” you wager a guess, and he nods, turning away from the stove to retrieve two mugs from a cabinet.

“I halved the recipe, since it’s just us,” he explains, mouth pulling down at the corners as he starts to ladle out servings from the pot full of deep red liquid. “Still made a lot, though.”

Your eyes drift across the kitchen until they land on the two empty bottles of red sitting next to the sink, and that makes you pause for a moment to consider. “So the original recipe called for four bottles?”

Namjoon’s brow is furrowed when he glances up, and then he follows your gaze, and a look of delayed understanding washes over him. “Oh, fuck.”

Your elbows dig into the kitchen island as you press your hands to your mouth, as if to physically hold in your laughter. “Did you… halve everything in the recipe except the wine?”

His eyes drop closed as he nods, his answer a resigned sigh. “Yeah. Yes, I did.”

You can’t help yourself: all at once, you’re circling around to join Namjoon behind the stove, so you can take his face in your hands and pull his mouth down to yours. He makes a soft noise of surprise, but then his lips fall into rhythm, kissing you hard enough to knock the air out of your lungs. Even through the fabric of your shirt, his large hands are warm when they slide over the small of your back, and then they keep going, until you finally break the kiss with another laugh when he reaches his final target and outright grabs your ass.

“Not the reaction I anticipated,” Namjoon admits, paired with a teasing squeeze. “But I’ll take it.”

You look up at him through your lashes, pressing your palms flat to the firm plane of his chest. “A very wise friend of mine once told me that the holidays aren’t about every little thing going perfect. I thought maybe you needed a reminder.”

His dimples deepen as his eyes search yours, and his voice is lower in his throat when he responds. “I think that fool was just sayin’ words because a pretty girl asked him a question.”

Heat flushes your face as you smile back. “Well, they were very good words.” You drop your gaze to the pot on the stove. “Come on, I bet we can salvage this.”

Determined to save Christmas, you throw in another handful of spices, chased with a few glugs from a bottle of orange juice Namjoon heroically digs out of the back of the fridge. After a few more minutes of simmering, you take a tentative sip of the mixture to find it perfectly adequate.

“I guess we just have to drink twice as much now,” Namjoon quips, filling up two fresh mugs with the remedied wine. You raise an eyebrow back at him, as if to accept the challenge, while you tap your drinks together in a cheers.

By the time you realize that a double-batch of mulled wine and gift-wrapping don’t exactly go together, it’s already too late. The booze makes Namjoon’s big hands go even clumsier, the few presents he attempts an absolute disaster, and you can’t stop laughing long enough to be of any help. At one point he reaches up to cup your jaw for a kiss, but completely misjudges the distance, deftly knocking into his half-drunk mug and spilling the contents all over a tube of wrapping paper and the crotch of your jeans.

You dissolve into giggles until you can scarcely breathe, scooting your chair a few inches back from the table as he jumps up to grab something to soak up the mess. “It’s okay, it’s okay,” you manage to gasp when he returns, immediately focused on cleaning you up first. You wave him away as you get to your feet. “Seriously, it’s not that bad, it’s mostly the table.”

“Jesus,” Namjoon groans as he drops the kitchen towels in his hands onto the wooden surface, doing his best to soak up the puddle, though there’s no saving the ruined gift-wrap.

“It’s not a big deal,” you murmur as he turns back, once again examining the extent of the damage done to your clothes. A shiver rolls through you as his thumb brushes over the waistband of your jeans, and he grimaces a little.

“This is probably gonna stain.”

“I mean…” Your pulse starts to quicken as his fingertips linger where they are, and Namjoon’s gaze flits up to meet yours when you speak, clearly hearing a shift in your tone of voice. “I could just… take them off.”

A smile teases at the corner of your mouth when his eyes widen. “Yeah,” he breathes, then seems to self-correct. “I mean, uh. If-if that’s something you would feel comfortable doing.”

You’re already reaching to undo the button, and then Namjoon takes over to tug open the zipper and push the fabric down your legs, and your nipples tighten beneath your bra at the reminder of how gentle his large hands can be. His lips find yours again and you don’t hesitate to lick into his mouth, jostling slightly as you try to make out with him and kick your pants the rest of the way off at the same time. It’s graceless, but you manage to make it work, and then he pulls away from you to glance back down.

“It looks like a little got on your shirt, too.”

He’s right, you realize: there are faint purple marks splattered just above the hem of your long-sleeve, and you smirk as you look up at him.

“If I didn’t know you better, I’d think you did this on purpose,” you tease, and then in one swift move you pull your shirt over your head, letting it drop to the kitchen floor next to your discarded jeans.

Namjoon’s hands are instantly on your bare skin, trailing heat as they trace the curve from your hip to your waist, and your breath hitches as he ducks down to brush his lips over your collarbone. The low tone of his voice reverberates through you when he speaks against your skin. “I like to think I could’ve gotten you naked tonight even without being an accident-prone idiot.”

You run a hand along the line of his jaw, tipping his head up to seek a kiss, before leaning back to murmur, “I guess we’ll never know.”

He kisses you again, and the two of you stumble across the threshold into the living room, pausing along the way to peel off his sweater and then his jeans, laughing into each other’s mouths, just drunk enough to lack any semblance of coordination you might have otherwise had.

When you drop down to lay back on his sofa, you’re both stripped to your underwear, and you can feel the thick bulge of him, pressing firm-heavy heat into your thigh as he settles his hips between your spread legs.

Namjoon’s eyes roam over your body beneath him, and then he’s tugging the lace of your panties to the side to slip a finger into your drenched center, beckoning it up to rub you just right. Your mouth drops open as he traces slow circles against your front wall, and when he adds a second digit, you can’t help but whimper softly at the stretch. It thrums through you like your lingering red wine buzz, hot and thick and good enough to get lost in, your head dropping back on the couch cushions as your hips rock up into his touch.

“Goddamn,” Namjoon groans, and your eyes flutter open again to take him in, his gaze heavy-lidded as he watches his fingers disappear up into you, coaxing slick sounds out with each pump of his hand. “I had a whole plan,” he rasps. “To take my time. But, fuck, I really want to fuck you.”

“It’s okay, Joon,” you breathe, not sure how much longer you could stand the torturous feeling of his clothed cock grinding into your thigh, so close to where you want him. An ache throbs in your cunt, needy, plugged up with two fingers but still begging for more. “Just fuck me.”

Realization flashes over his face, and then he suddenly heaves a sigh, looking defeated. You have to bite back a noise at the loss as he withdraws his fingers. “I— there’s an obvious joke here, but. I don’t have any condoms. Or if I do, they’re definitely expired.”

It takes you a second to process the revelation, and then you reach up to pull him down to you, smiling when he hums surprise into your mouth at the unexpected response. Your lips linger on his, and then you tip your head to press a kiss to the slope of his neck, not quite able to maintain eye contact as you murmur, “I mean. I’m on the pill, and I’m clean. So.”

“Yeah?” he replies, and your nose bumps against his shoulder as you nod. “Me too. Well, I-I’m clean, I mean. I’m not on the pill.”

You can’t help the giggle that slips out as you look up at him. “Right, no, I get it.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon huffs a laugh in return, his face flushing a little. “I talk a lot, when I’m nervous.”

“I just thought it was an all-the-time thing,” you admit, and the color in his cheeks deepens.

“I’m just always nervous around you.”

Your mouth seeks his out for a kiss sweeter than the last, slower for his shy honesty and the hummingbird thrum of your heartbeat behind your ribs. The heat of his breath ghosts over your lips when you tip back to answer, “You don’t have to be.”

“So, you’re okay?” he asks, almost reverent with his question. “If we—if I don’t—”

“Please,” you insist, and it’s all the encouragement he needs.

With remarkably little fumbling, he drags the lace of your panties down your legs, letting you kick them the rest of the way off while he moves up to unclasp your bra. You slip the straps off your shoulders and drop it over the edge of the couch, then watch as he shifts to strip out of his boxers, freeing his cock with enough force that it smacks against his abdomen with a hefty thud.

You swallow hard as you take him in: long and thick, flushed dark. Big, and fuck, you want all of him; you can feel how drenched you already are between your legs at the thought of all that cock filling you up.

When you tear your gaze away to meet his, Namjoon is staring at you just as hungrily, and he brings a hand to pump himself a few times, to coat his shaft in the wetness that’s started to drool from the head of his dick.

“Come here,” he grunts, his voice rough-edged, and you waste no time straddling yourself over his hips.

Given his considerable size, you figured it might take you a second to adjust, but you want him so bad, the feeling of his cock stretching you open is all white-hot pleasure. Your fingertips dig into his shoulders as you slowly lower yourself down on him, inch by overwhelming inch, until your ass is flush with thighs.

Namjoon’s head drops back against the couch as you slowly grind your hips into him, his hands gripping at your waist to guide the movement. You can’t help the soft sound that flutters out of you: he just looks so good like this, white-blonde hair swept off his forehead, beads of sweat trailing down his temples and glistening at his collarbones, his parted lips full and kiss-bitten.

“Baby,” he groans as you start to move a little more intentionally. “Fuck, I’m not gonna last long. Tell me what to do.”

“Touch me,” you breathe, and you close a hand over one of his, guiding him down to your clit.

Just like the night before in his car, his touch is so gentle when he begins to trace circles into the sensitive nub with his thumb. You can feel the slow-hum build of an orgasm in your core, drawn up by the steady rub of his hand, and you lean back to allow him better access, bracing yourself on his thighs as you rock along his length.

A moan rips through you as the new angle drags the head of his dick just right against your front wall, and it’s good enough to make your eyes roll back. Chasing the feeling, you shove your hips down harder, driving his cock into that spot over and over until your thighs have started to tremble.

“That’s it,” Namjoon grunts encouragingly, his voice husky. “Use me, baby. Look so good when you bounce on my cock like that.”

The words set every last one of your nerve endings alight, and you dig your nails into his skin as your spine arches from the pleasure. His thumb is still working steadily at your clit, and the heavy stretch of his cock has you so wet, you can feel arousal starting to leak down your thighs. Your pussy clings to him like a vice, a throbbing-tight heat, taking him to the hilt every time.

“Oh my god, Joon,” you groan, “I’m gonna come.”

His touch doesn’t let up, and you can feel yourself teetering right on the precipice of it, only able to manage little gasps as you drop yourself down onto his cock again and again and again, with enough force that there’s an audible sound of your skin slapping against his.

Your legs are outright shaking from the effort now, from how close you are, and then Namjoon ducks his head, using his free hand to guide your tit into his mouth. The swirl of his tongue laved across the tight bud of your nipple is just what you need to push you over the edge.

With a moan that’s more like a sob, you drop forward against Namjoon’s chest, sinking all the way down to bury him in your pulsing cunt as you come. He continues to rub you through the waves of your orgasm, breathing ragged in your ear while your pussy gushes around him, until you grab his wrist with a soft whimper of overstimulation, and he relents.

Too gone to get any words out, all you can do is take his face in your hands and kiss him. He rolls his tongue over yours, decadent, as his palms slip down to cup your ass. You groan a little into his mouth when he begins to shift you, your cunt still fluttering-sensitive at every little motion, but he manages to maneuver you onto your back while still keeping himself sheathed in you.

His hands move to your thighs, encouraging your legs to hook over his hips, and his mouth trails kisses down the valley between your breasts before he breathes against your skin, “Can I keep going?”

“Please,” you murmur, and it’s chased with a moan when he starts to rock his hips into you. You feel so full, so swollen from your climax that it’s like your walls were molded to take him, the crown of his cock stroking deep-deep over the place that lights you up inside, shooting sparks of pleasure all the way down to your toes.

Namjoon’s breath stutters on a laugh. “Shit, I’m already close.”

You tilt up to brush your lips against his, humming encouragingly into his mouth, and then he pulls back again, one dimple teasing at the corner of his smile. “God, I— wanna hear you say it.”

Somehow, you know exactly what he means. “Come in me, Joon,” you beg, fucked so good that you’re shameless for it, and you gasp when he bottoms out in you with his next thrust. “Fill me up. Fuck me full of your cum, baby, please.”

It’s like the words send him into overdrive, and he practically growls as he starts to fuck his cock into you forcefully, hard enough to make your tits bounce. Each snap of his hips punches a heady groan from your lungs, and you reach up to drag your nails across the skin of his back as he chases his own end.

“Gonna fucking— give it to you,” he hisses, rolling his hips one, two, three more times, and then you feel his cock twitching, shoved in as deep as you can take him. He heaves a final strangled groan as he comes, rope after rope of his release pumping into you to paint your walls, until you can feel it beginning to spill back down your thighs.

You kiss through the comedown, inhaling shaky breaths into each other’s mouths, your bodies still fitted together like puzzle pieces, sweat starting to cool in the places where skin is pressed to skin. Namjoon finally moves first, giving a grunt of effort as he rolls off the couch, and you throw an arm over your face while the world slowly settles into focus around you.

When he returns, it’s with a towel in hand, and you can’t help smiling as he cleans you up, trailing soft kisses along your collarbone in tandem.

His voice is soft, too, when he finally speaks. “Will you stay here tonight?”

You prop yourself up on your forearms to look at him, and a little glimmer of something lights up in your chest that you can’t ignore. The first spark of an ember, just enough to reignite a flame you’d long since believed to be entirely extinguished. But now he’s shown you: it doesn’t have to be. You don’t have to be alone.

“Of course. We still have presents to wrap,” you say simply, and he huffs a laugh as he leans in to press a kiss to your forehead.

“Joon?” you murmur into the crook of his neck, unable to keep your voice entirely steady.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you breathe. “For the magic.”

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #bts smut #bts x reader #a hyung holiday

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etherealising · 6 months ago

Text

chapter fourteen | your love is not too kind

masterlist | ↢ previous chapter | next chapter ↣

pairing(s): carmen ‘carmy’ berzatto x fem!reader

summary: you begin your hunt for a special surprise, while cortez and syd gang up on you. also an adventure between you and carmy ensues where you both receive advice from two very nosy old ladies, out of love of course. (honestly just a fun incoherent day with our two losers).

wc: 7.6k (thass a lot of filler)

The harsh cold of the Chicago air sporadically whipped across your face, the wind cut into the small patches of skin that weren’t covered by the scarf you chose to wear. You occupied yourself with the loose bits of concrete surrounding the sidewalk, kicking a few rocks around with the toe of your boot, one hand tucked tightly into your pocket while the other began feeling numb as you held your phone up to your ear.

Your eyes found Cortez’s figure inside the small cafe the two of you decided to meet up at, a smile tugging on your lips as you watched him converse with the person behind the counter while he waited for your orders.

The voice of the event planner on the other line continued droning on about what was expected of you at the gala tonight as if they hadn’t spoken to you in the months leading up to the gala or profusely sent you emails with an itinerary. You wished there was some way for you to get out of the whole ordeal, a few weeks ago you wouldn’t have minded but now you were resigned to spending your night with Hayden and a bunch of other mediocre middle-aged men who would pay you compliments for everything besides the journalistic work you pride yourself on.

You let out a small sigh followed by a noncommittal hum as you listened to the line go silent for the final time, stuffing the phone into your jacket pocket just in time to gratefully receive the to-go cup of hot cocoa Cortez patiently held out to you.

A nod of appreciation was sent his way as the two of you began your walk to the restaurant, your brows furrowed at the neatly wrapped box in his hand that wasn’t occupied with his cup of tea, “You buy the whole bakery or something?” You nodded towards what you assumed was a pastry box when he looked over in your direction.

A small smirk pulled at his lips “Nah, after ya little story about that sad ass baby shower you threw for Natalie, thought I could bring her some pastries ya know since I ain’t get no invite or nothin’.” You rolled your eyes slightly shoving your elbow into his side as you laughed him off.

“Aren’t we like not supposed to have a personal relationship outside of this sponsor sponsee situation?” A slight smile tugged at your lips as you listened to Cortez’s scoff.

“The way yo ass use me like a personal diary we might as well be fuckin’ friends.” Cortez turned his head away from you hoping it was enough to hide the small uptick of his lips, but it did next to nothing as you caught a quick glimpse of it.

You opened your mouth to respond, apologizing lightly to the stranger you almost ran into while your eyes were on Cortez. The man let out a huff of annoyance before carefully balancing his cup of the pastry box and then looping his free arm through yours.

“Bad enough I gotta listen to yo dramatic ass life stories, now I gotta be yo guide dog too?” Regardless of the quiet laugh he let out to signify he was joking, you weren’t sure how you put up with constantly being roasted by the man whenever you were in his presence.

You took another sip of your hot cocoa appreciating the way it warmed you from the inside out, a thought coming to you as you fixed your hold on the cup. “You seemed to know that barista at the cafe pretty well.” It was hard to keep the curiosity out of your tone, hoping if you avoided his stare he wouldn’t clock that you were trying to pry into his personal life.

Cortez let out a chuckle shaking his head at your antics, finding it amusing that you wouldn’t just outright ask him whatever questions you had considering all the times he’d intently listened and advised any dilemmas you went through. “Damn girl, you hella nosy!”

It was hard to hold back the laughter that began to bubble in you at those words, Cortez’s innate sassy nature was something you would always appreciate about him. “Nah I’m playin’,” the almost shy smile on his face cut off his words, and the reaction surprised you. “But uh, I been frequentin’ that cafe for a bit. They uh asked for my number last time I was there, we been talkin’ and shit.” He shrugged it off like he didn’t just tell you the most exciting news you’d heard all week.

Although his complexion didn’t allow for a blush to spread across his cheeks, you could tell he was flustered just by the way he was trying to hide his smile. “Talkin’ and shit hmm,” your imitation of him drew a frown from the man. “Is that all the two of you are doing?”

Cortez chuckled at the teasing undertone in your voice, “Ion really think that’s ya business ma.”

A quiet scoff left you at Cortez’s answer of course he would give you a morsel of his personal life, only to take it away when you got too curious. You didn’t mind though his life wasn’t really any of your business but you sure as hell liked to bug him about it like it was.

“What about you, still cut up over homeboy who stay playin’ with you?” If you spent any more alone time with this man you were sure your eyes would permanently get stuck in the back of your head from all the rolling they did.

“You don’t have to say it like that and actually ‘ion really think that’s ya business bro’.” The laughter from the two of you came immediately at how ridiculous you sounded when trying to mimic Cortez’s vernacular. The strange look from those gathered around you as you waited to cross the street did little to appease your good humor.

The two of you continued the rest of your journey in mostly silence unless one of the two of you made a quip here and there. You weren’t sure what compelled Cortez to tag along with you to the restaurant especially since you’d spoken in length about how you were doing with your sobriety back at the cafe, if anything you were sure Cortez’s nosiness was catching up to him and he wanted to put a face to all the myriad of names you mentioned. But you’d pretend his excuse about seeing Natalie was legitimate.

You stopped in front of the restaurant, the windows covered and not allowing anyone on the outside to see in. You looked back at Cortez for a moment, eyes narrowing as you watched a smug smirk grow on his lips, “What’s that look for?”

His smirk widened as he leaned around you opening the door, “Nothin’ ma just excited to meet that loser you stay fuckin’ cryin’ over.”

You scoffed turning to enter the restaurant, only to be stopped by the sound of Nat’s voice coming from behind the two of you causing you to turn in your tracks with a smile on your face as she approached both of you. Pleasantries were exchanged as the three of you headed inside, your eyes landing on exactly the person you were looking for as you excused yourself from the conversation.

As you made your way further into the restaurant, you realized what was so different about it. It was weird the more you looked around, you realized just how much things had changed thus far. In reality, the only major change you could pinpoint was the lack of walls, but it was also more than that to you, it was no longer the restaurant you once used to come to on the weekends when you and Carm were kids. While most of the foundation was the same there would be no more looking at a particular spot and being sucked into a memory from all those years ago. It was refreshing, to say the least, but it also felt like the last tangible piece of Mikey was being torn down bit by bit, piece by piece.

Nat’s laugh broke you from your reverie, your eyes finding her still locked in conversation with Cortez, whatever stress you’d seen on her face outside had calmed a bit as she spoke with the man. You turned moving to the man you were here to speak to, eyebrows furrowing as you watched Syd look at dishes on the table.

“Fak, hey mind if I cut in?” You waited for his response watching as his eyes darted between you and the man he was speaking with, the latter sending you a welcoming smile as he held his hand out to introduce himself.

The panicked look on Fak’s face as he fought the urge to step away and speak with you made it clear whatever he was doing with Tim was important, so you decided he could be privy to the conversation.

“If I let you in on a super secret mission, you have to promise me Carmy doesn’t find out.” You looked down at Fak in his seated position, the rapid nod of his head enough to let you know your words caught his attention.

You looked around the restaurant just to make sure Carmy hadn’t made a surprise appearance before turning and taking the nearest chair to sit in, leaning forward and beckoning Fak with you, Tim watching from his place next to Fak somehow just as intrigued.

“Okay, I need you to tell me everything you know about what happened to Mikey’s jean jacket, you know the one with that cool blanket lining?” You watched as realization flashed across Fak’s face.

His hands flew to his mouth as he tried to hide his excited laugh, the noise drawing not only Syd’s attention but Nat and Cortez’s as well before they returned to what previously held their attention. Your eyebrows furrowed as you shushed him hoping it wouldn’t draw anyone else’s attention.

“You’re trying to find the jacket for Carmy!” Your eyes widened at how loud he said Carmy’s name, regretting your decision to do this at the restaurant. “So is this like a lover’s gift because you know I’m Carmy’s best friend,” he paused, wincing as he looked at you. “No offense Baby, but you’d be like the coolest fucking girlfriend ever if you found that jacket for Carm.”

While Fak’s excitement made you feel hopeful that getting the jacket would be easier than you once thought, you needed to nip this idea of you and Carmy being an item in the bud before Fak got too carried away, no matter how much the idea warmed you inside.

“Uh…no, no Fak were just friends, but if I’m going to relieve you of best friend duties- thanks for stepping in for the past 10 years by the way,” you gave him a small wink. “I need your help to find that jacket, please.” The puppy dog eyes weren’t necessary but you needed to assure his help.

Fak kept quiet as he looked at you, both of you easily ignored Tim as he sat watching the stare-off between the two of you intently, waiting for one of you to crack. It was immediate the way Fak deflated into himself the excitement still there as he began telling you the information he knew.

You politely nodded along as Fak went off on various tangents, paying extra attention as he recounted Carm being beaten up by someone in a carrot costume, wanting to keep that in the back of your mind just in case you needed it. A few more attentive nods and quiet “mhms” left you before Fak finally gave you something you could work with.

“Chi-Chi? And you’re sure he has the jacket?” You were surprised, to say the least, but after listening to Fak explain how tough things got at The Beef, you understood the need for quick cash. Your mind tried to remember how you overlooked the state of the restaurant when helping out Richie last year.

“Thanks, Fak I really appreciate the help, don’t let Carm find out though please?” You raised your eyebrows hoping he realized how serious you were, your eyes dropping to his extended pinky before letting out a quiet laugh and connecting your pinky’s in a pinky promise.

You gave Fak one last smile in thanks before apologizing to Tim for interrupting their riveting conversation about music and returning the chair to the table you stole it from. As you looked up you caught Syd’s knowing smile out of the corner of your eye, the seat next to her occupied by none other than Cortez, a smile of his own lining his lips.

“Don’t you two just look cozy.” Your voice was sarcastic as you looked between the two of them, sure they heard the whole conversation and even more sure that Cortez provided Syd with commentary. Your eyes fell to the small wares lined up on the table trying to distract yourself from Cortez’s smug grin.

Cortez cleared his throat, “Baby?” The smile was evident in his voice before your eyes shot up to his. “Oh that shit was serious,” he paused on a laugh hand moving to wipe across his mouth. “Not you walkin’ around lettin’ grown ass men call you Baby.”

You looked in Syd’s direction for help, an awkward smile lined her lips as she looked between the two of you. “It’s a childhood nickname, why are you still here anyway?”

He shrugged finger tracing across one of the plates, “Nat asked me to stick around for lunch, and ya girl over here was starin’ at these dishes hard as hell, thought she could use a pastry.”

Your eyes narrowed at Cortez’s words, his hands holding out the pastry box to you in offering. Nat wasn’t around to corroborate his story but you also knew he was just as nosy as you and probably took up Nat’s offer in hopes of meeting Carm, you brushed it off before turning back to Syd.

“Why isn’t Carm helping you with all this?” Your hand moved in a gesture to everything set out on the table, you could feel the tension radiating off Syd like it was something palpable.

The look on Syd’s face was a mix of irritation and exhaustion as she looked at you before looking in Cortez’s direction, the man all ears as she decided whether or not to talk about what was plaguing her in mixed company.

“Oh, you know Carm, everywhere and nowhere,” she gave a forced laugh before finding your eyes, the look on your face telling her to cut the shit. “He’s stressing me out more than I already am, which isn’t great. There’s so much to get done and when I bring it up he’s already working on a million other things, or he’s just not even here”

You nodded understanding her frustration, “Makes sense, is there anything I could do to help maybe?” It was a shot in the dark but you understood how Carmy could get, and Syd didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of his shenanigans.

“I uh…maybe like I dunno, not occupy so much of his time…please?” Syd wouldn’t meet your eyes as she fiddled with the plate closest to her turning it back and forth. You were too shocked to say anything, Cortez’s chuckles filled the space your voice hadn’t.

“Damn ma, you just out here makin’ everyone’s life fuckin’ harder huh? Thought I was special.” Cortez sent you a small pout as you turned in his direction.

You sent him a mocking pout to match his, tired of being bullied by the man in front of you. “I’m sorry, why the fuck is the peanut gallery speaking?” He rolled his eyes mocking your words before you looked back in Syd’s direction, “Listen, Syd, I didn’t realize I was monopolizing all of Carmy’s time, and I apologize for any stress I’ve caused you, but for now on I’ll be more mindful of your time.”

Syd sent you a small smile, her shoulders relaxed as she realized you weren’t upset with her. Could her words have been nicer, maybe, but without them you wouldn’t have realized just how much Carmy spending time with you was taking away his attention from the restaurant. And while Syd definitely should’ve voiced her concerns to Carm, you were sure she was taking the less volatile approach by speaking with you.

The sound of Syd calling Carmy over drew your attention, your eyes immediately met Cortez’s as his eyes moved from a spot behind you before landing on yours. The two of you had a silent conversation through your eyes, trying your best to shut down any thoughts running through Cortez’s mind as a smug smile graced his features, hands raising in acquiescence.

A warmth at the small of your back had you turning to Carmy. His body now stood next to yours, you tried to tame your smile in front of Cortez not wanting to give him any more ammunition to tease you with. It was subtle but you felt the warmth of Carmy’s fingers trace across your lower back before his hand fell to his side.

“Hey,” his voice was breathy, quiet as his eyes roamed over your face taking inventory. “Are you good, did you eat?”

You gave a soft nod doing your best to ignore the way Cortez and Syd turned to look at each other in your peripheral vision.

“Homeboy just looks lost 24/7 don’t he?” Cortez’s words met your ears, you listened as Syd hummed in agreement, your eyes turning to the two culprits, Carmy’s following shortly after. Cortez stood up after that leaning over the table with his hand outstretched, “Good to properly meet you, kid, seein’ as we ain’t get a chance to talk last time I saw you.”

Cortez’s words confused you, eyes following the hesitant way Carmy’s hand met his. “You two know each other?”

Cortez shrugged smirking in your direction, “I ain’t say all that,” he paused before his eyes shifted to Carmy’s eyes his smirk widened. “Baby over here, talks so fondly bout you homie, feel like I already know you.”

You rolled your eyes at Cortez’s antics letting out a sarcastic laugh before gesturing between the two of them and speaking, “Cortez meet Carmy, Carmy meet Cortez.”

Carmy stood tensely beside you his fingers bumping into yours as his hand moved across his body to scratch his tricep, “I uh, remember you…from the church.” Carmy began nodding his head, this whole situation was news to you but it made sense considering neither man knew who the other was until today.

“That’s great, this is great. I love reunions, quick kinda off topic question which plates should we use to serve our guests, or are we going for a whole like BYOP vibe?” Syd’s hands gestured to the table with the various choices on it.

It was quiet for a moment as Carmy’s eyes flashed across the selection, “What’s BYOP?”

“Bring Your Own Plate.” Your voice along with Cortez’s rang out in sync before the man raised his hand towards you waiting as you reached out to high-five him both of you laughing.

Syd and Carmy shared a moment staring between the two of you before their eyes met. Carmy couldn’t understand it but for some reason seeing you and the man he now knew to be Cortez reminded him of you and Mikey.

“Um, this plate.” Carmy’s hands reached for a sleek black plate that you admired as he set down.

Syd grimaced before speaking up, “Well, that's 55 bucks a plate for that type of silence, so... ”

Cortez let out a low whistle as he leaned in closer to look down at the plate, “Damn y’all got money, them some nice ass plates.” Cortez looked up at the silence that fell over the group, “I can see my opinion ain’t wanted,” he raised his hands in surrender. “But when you got time I’ma need the name of the designer cause these mugs is fresh as fuck.”

You let out a quiet laugh, Syd’s mouth twitching at the corners from Cortez’s humor, “I’ll keep that in mind for your birthday…are sponsees allowed to gift their sponsors, things?”

“The best gift you could get me is yo ass shuttin’ the hell up.” Syd tried to disguise her laugh as a cough when you glared at her, you even saw Carmy’s lips twitch from the peripheral vision.

Before you could respond Nat made her presence known joining the group with an envelope of some sort in her hand. You tuned out the conversation Carmy and Nat engaged in as you occupied yourself with the dishware on the table, cataloging the pieces you thought were nice in your head.

Syd’s tired sigh pulled your attention as you caught the end of the conversation, Carmy offering to drop something off for Nat.

“I can drop that off, that way you two can stay here and get all the hard work done.” The voices quieted as your suggestion rang out, your eyes flashing around the group waiting for a response.

Nat nodded as she began handing the envelope over, “Will you have enough time to get ready for the gala tonight?”

You shrugged not caring too much about the event as you gripped the envelope. Before you could wander off and grab your belongings Carmy spoke up, “I’ll go with you.”

Remembering Syd’s earlier words you offered him a small smile before shaking your head back and forth, “Don’t worry about it, you’ve got plenty of stuff here to worry about.”

Cortez laughed looking between the group gathered around, “Damn it takes two of y’all to drop off a little envelope.”

Carmy ignored his teasing as he began speaking directly to you. “Did you drive here?” You shook your head no at his question, “So you’re just gonna walk all the way to Winnetka?” You weren’t sure when Carmy had become so sassy but you stood there staring at him with a slight smile on your face at his persistence.

“Oh my goodness please just go!” Syd’s words pulled the two of you out of your staring contest, “Just Carm, can we please go over plates and napkins when you get back, maybe even the chaos menu?”

Carmy listened to her request and nodded before turning to you nodding his head and signaling for the two of you to leave. You sighed feeling bad that you were once again occupying Carmy’s time, but the quicker the two of you got this errand done the quicker Carmy could return and get the important work done.

As the two of you moved away from the group, you couldn’t help the small smile as you listened to Syd and Cortez begin a conversation regarding Coach K.

The quiet song playing on the radio was the only noise filling the space of the car, your thumbs twiddled against the steering wheel, eyes locked on the pile-up of cars in front of you. You could feel Carmy’s eyes searing into the side of your head when he stole glances in your direction, for someone who was so adamant on joining your journey, he sure didn’t have much to say.

“Sometimes when I dream, it's always these fucked up scenarios where I’m in a car and I just don’t know how to drive.” You looked over to Carm to see his eyes already on you before continuing. “I always get in these accidents, like the brakes don’t work, or I just fucking crash right? And like what if this is one of those dreams?”

Carmy let out a quiet cough as he looked between you in the driver's seat and the cars ahead of you, “Is there uh…ever any passengers in your dreams?”

You smirked at his question before shrugging, “Sometimes but they never actually have a face, their faces are just smooth.”

“You know how fucked up that sounds?” Carmy’s voice was incredulous as he caught your eyes once more, the two of you sharing a laugh at the whole thing.

While an unusual conversation started, it did the job to break whatever tension had settled between the two of you, as you could see Carmy’s body relax into the seat out of your peripheral.

“So Cortez…he’s your uh sponsor?” Carmy listened as you hummed in approval of his question, his eyes strayed to the way your hands moved to signal a lane change.

You weren’t sure why you agreed to drive knowing how much other drivers pissed you off, “My sponsor, personal pain in the ass. Same difference.” You gave Carm a small smile as you checked the passenger side mirror before merging.

Carm nodded debating whether the questions racing through his mind deserved to be spoken aloud. “What’s it like?” There was a moment of silence between the two of you, Carmy realizing just how insensitive the question was, “Shit uh…you don’t have to answer that.”

Carmy’s question rang through your head as you thought of how to respond. You weren’t sure if meeting Cortez made him so curious or if he had underlying questions since finding out about your accident, it was worth mentioning that your experience wouldn’t help him understand Mikey and his experience even more but that wasn’t a conversation you wanted to get into while driving.

“It’s a lot of fucking discipline,” you stopped trying to gather the best way to articulate your feelings. “There’s this romanticized idea of what being a recovering addict looks like, and it's honestly a bunch of bullshit. People think you make the choice, you get clean, and then like fucking magic you’re just cured.”

Your eyes were hyper-focused on the road as you drove, the words pouring out of you without a second thought. “I’ll be a recovering addict for the rest of my life, there’s no end to this shit. My whole life is different now, the day I chose to use, will affect every single choice I make going forward.”

“And I don’t think I have to tell you, but this shit is a disease. I’m fucking sick Carm, and there’s no getting better, not really. Recovery is like putting a bandaid on a wound that needs fucking life-saving surgery, but the surgery doesn’t exist and you just hope to fucking hell your bandaid will last. I used to be one of those people you know…I thought addicts just had to get clean and all was good again but then I lived that shit.”

Carmy hung onto every word intently, watching the sheen that overcame your eyes as you followed the GPS directions on autopilot, your hands tightening around the steering wheel every few moments as he lost you.

“It’s a lot of pretending too…for me at least, pretending that I’m fine, pretending that the urges aren’t there slowly eating away at me if I give them too much thought.” You paused sniffling as tears fought to drip down your face. “P-pretending I didn’t tell Nat it was her fault that M-Mikey passed, that she should’ve paid more attention as I laid there saying the most vile things hoping they’d give in and just give me something. Pretending I don’t spend days locked away in my room as thoughts of just using one more time bring on bouts of anxious tremors.”

Carm watched you from his spot in the passenger seat, through all that you somehow managed to safely navigate the two of you to your destination. His chest felt tight as a few tears slipped down your cheeks, his eyes catching sight of the way your grip slackened on the steering wheel, the appendages shaking slightly. He could feel the disgust rising in his chest as he realized if it weren’t for his curiosity you wouldn’t be upset.

Carmy unbuckled himself, hands reaching out to collect yours between his. Your unfocused eyes found his as he gave you a minute to collect yourself, the embarrassment of the moment washed over your face. “Sorry, I probably should’ve taken Cortez up on his offer to meet more often.” You let out a pathetic laugh hoping the severe look of concern on Carmy’s face would slowly ebb away.

You allowed him to unbuckle you before his hands found yours once more, you watched as he brought them to settle against his warm chest just barely realizing the slight tremors radiating off of them. He held your hands against his chest allowing the warmth to help calm you down, the steady beat of his heart bringing the comfort you needed.

Carmy’s hands moved from their place atop yours before moving to pull you into his chest as best he could. Neither of you said a word about the uncomfortable way the center console dug into your stomachs. As Carmy’s warm lips pressed into your temple you relaxed into him as much as the positions allowed for his arms bringing you the comfort they always did.

You were thankful that Carmy agreed to the pit stop you’d asked him to make. After sitting in the parking lot for longer than necessary you realized it would be easier to pick up your dress now rather than Carmy dropping you off at home and then leaving to pick it up.

The gentle squeeze to your hand stole your attention, your eyes were staring out the window, not focused on anything in particular as you debated whether to attend the gala or just forget about the whole thing and spend your night home alone. You turned to face Carmy, a small smile on his lips as he nodded to the house he’d parked in front of.

Both of you exited the car meeting up in front of it before you offered him your best encouraging smile and led the way to the door. The warmth radiating off his body behind you is the only notion to let you know he followed you before your hand reached to press the doorbell.

It was a few minutes before a voice yelled from inside the house, noises met your ears as the door was yanked open. The screen door made it difficult to see exactly who stood behind it, but the dramatic gasp let you know who it was.

“Well I’ll be damned Baby, you sure do know how to pick up stray…dare I say bears.” The joke was mediocre at best, but it was Ms. Sadie’s high-pitched laugh that stole a giggle out of you as you turned in Carmy’s direction, eyebrows raised in amusement.

Ms. Sadie left the two of you on the porch, quickly unlocking the screen door as she moved slower than she once did all those years ago, the sound of the lock was enough of an invitation. “We won’t stay long I promise,” you knew just how uncomfortable being social made Carmy. “Take off your shoes.”

Carmy nodded as he watched you step out of your shoes before moving inside his motions following yours. He hadn’t seen Ms. Mable or Ms. Sadie since returning to Chicago, he honestly wasn’t sure they were still alive, but he remembered just how much the two women loved you all those years ago and while he was never as close with them as you and your mom, he felt his cheeks warm at the idea of you bringing him to their house, it didn’t mean anything but he couldn’t help the way his mind read into it.

“Mabel! Baby’s here, and she brought her little friend.” Carmy followed you through the living room as Ms. Sadie’s voice rang through his ears, his eyes floated around the room landing on several photos of you throughout the years, his hand reaching for a photo of the three of you at what he assumed was your college graduation. Carmy’s eyes studied your smile frozen in time, your happiness practically radiated through the picture as you stood in your cap and gown. He knew he would never have these memories with you, and knowing that everyone else besides him celebrated your successes no matter how big or small would always stick with him.

“Carm,” the whisper of your voice made him look in your direction, finding your hand reaching out for him, he gave you his small signature smile before replacing the picture frame.

Carmy allowed you to lead him through the house before the two of you stepped into the sunroom, Ms. Mabel sat at a table, a game of chess in front of her. His fingers twitched as your hand left his to greet the woman, watching as you dropped down to hug her, the older woman’s eyes landing on his as they lit up. He stood awkwardly trying to ignore the glare Ms. Sadie pointed his way as her partner whispered something in your ear. Your soft laugh rang through his head like a breeze in the early morning.

“Carmen Berzatto, you just gon’ stand in my house and not say nothin’?” His eyes widened as he looked between you and Ms. Mabel, mouth opening and closing as he watched a slow smile rise to both of your faces. “M’ just messin’ with you honey, Baby’s been tellin’ us about the restaurant, been wonderin’ when she was gonna bring your round.”

A tense smile raised to his lips, the sense of uncomfortableness slowly ebbing away as you moved back to his side. “Baby, why don’t you go on with Mabel and get your dress, I’ll get Carmen here to help me in the kitchen. I know y’all can’t stay long so we’ll send y’all off with some red beans and rice. How that sound?”

Carmy gave you a reassuring smile as you looked in his direction, he couldn’t voice it but Ms. Sadie intimidated him and he knew her suggestion wasn’t a question but more so a demand as his eyes flitted to Ms. Mabel trying to hide her chuckles behind her hand. His head began nodding before he even realized, your hand reached to give his a light squeeze followed by the smile that was etched into his memory as you and Ms. Mabel left the two of them.

You stepped from behind the partition beaming as Ms. Mabel gasped, clapping her hands. You did a little spin once you made it to the middle of the room stepping on the raised dais so the older woman could assure the alterations were perfect. You watched the woman move around in the mirror thankful for her agreeing to make the few alterations you needed, staring at the way the dress hugged the shape of your body made you feel a bit better about the gala tonight. You hoped the confidence you felt as you stood there would translate to the event and help you get through the night.

“So, you and that Berzatto boy.” Ms. Mabel’s words had a knowing undertone as her eyes met yours in the mirror, a kind smile on her face to let you know her curiosity was genuine.

You gave a slight shrug trying not to show just how flustered the question made you, “We’re friends again if that’s what you're asking.”

Ms. Mabel’s smile widened in the mirror before her mouth opened taking the form of an ‘o’ as she gave you one more once over. “Do you permanently alter your body for all your friends?” The question was paired with her cold fingers tracing the amalgamation of lines that now ran down your spine, a quiet gasp escaped you at the feeling. “Now I was born at night Baby, but I wasn’t born last night. And I know for damn sure you didn’t have this tattoo when I first took your measurements.”

A warmth flushed over your body at having been called out by the older woman as she gestured for you to step off the dais and join her on the settee, your mouth opening to respond.

“Hush up for a minute now,” her wrinkled hands reached out to cup yours as they fiddled in your lap. “It’s beautiful work Baby, don’t get me wrong but I would like to see you find the happiness you deserve before I leave this Earth.” She waved you off as you opened your mouth to protest, “Now Sadie and I ain’t gon’ be here much longer and we love you like you’re our own. But don’t you think you’d be happier if you let that boy go?”

A sigh deflated your body as you took in Ms. Mabel’s words it would have been easy to get defensive and fight tooth and nail for Carmy like you usually did, but you knew she was only asking because of how much she cared about you. You allowed yourself a few seconds of silence as you thought of your response, searching for the best words so as to not disrespect the woman you held in such high regard.

“I think I would be a lot happier if I let Carm go,” saying the words out loud left a bitter taste in your mouth and you weren’t sure if it was the remnants of truth left on your tongue or heartache. “But letting him go wouldn’t remove the space he’s made for himself in my life. We lost contact for 10 years and even that wasn’t enough for me to forget the memory of him. It’s like,” you paused your eyes looking up into Ms. Mabel’s before continuing.

“The love I have for him is burrowed deep in me, like roots. And it’s more than just being in love with him, it’s the love I shared with him growing up, in friendship. I don’t know Ms. Mabel, maybe it would be easier if we didn’t encompass each other’s lives in the way we have, a-and maybe it’s stupid of me to one day hope he could devote himself to me, but whatever love I have for him, I’m just not sure I could find it in someone else.”

The crow's feet by Ms. Mabel’s eyes crinkled up as she offered you a warm smile, her hands squeezed yours as a way to translate the care she had for you. “You know I was married before Sadie right?” Her question had your eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I didn’t love him, hardly knew him but all women were good for back then was marryin’ and homemakin’. There was someone else though, and the shame those feelings caused me put enough fear in me to marry that man. And he was a good man, treated me right, respected me, but I just couldn’t love him the way I loved my Sadie.”

There was little surprise on your face as Ms. Mabel revealed the identity of the person who held her true affection. “I won’t get into all the messy details, but when I was finally free of that marriage Sadie and I found our way back to each other, and it was then that I knew, no matter what I could never love another soul in the way my soul loved Sadie’s. So no Baby, it’s not stupid but you can’t allow that type of love to live rent-free in you if whoever’s on the other end of it ain’t returin’ the affection. Sometimes Baby it’s just best to love from afar.”

Ms. Mabel pulled you into a warm embrace as she finished talking, hoping that her words wouldn’t just go in one ear and out the other. “Now gon’ on and get outta that dress you done let me talk your ear off so long you might not have enough time to get ready.” She smiled as you laughed along with her before stepping behind the partition to redress.

You and Ms. Mabel stepped into the living room laughter left the both of you as you maneuvered the dress bag so it didn’t get caught on any of the shelves. Carmy and Ms. Sadie seemed to be in deep conversation as the two of you entered the room, a part of you surprised at how comfortable Carmy looked sitting on the plastic-wrapped couch.

“Sadie stop talkin’ that boys ear off Baby needs to go home and get ready.” The sound of Ms. Sadie sucking her teeth caused you to laugh as Ms. Mabel mumbled about how the other woman talked too damn much.

Ms. Sadie said something to Carmy before rising from the couch taking both of their mugs with her before returning with a plastic bag full of Tupperware, “Oh Baby, you got that little fancy gala tonight don’t you.”

You looked in her direction as you moved through the living room to reach Carmy’s side, “Yes ma’am, Ms. Mabel’s alterations were perfect as always.”

“Mhm, so Carmen here is your plus one?” She raised her eyebrow in question as she handed the bag of food over to the aforementioned man.

You tried to ignore the heat of Carmy’s eyes as he turned to look at you. Shuffling in your spot as you looked to Ms. Mabel for help while she pretended to pick up the nonexistent dust particles on one of the shelves. You weren’t sure why she was even asking this question, you’d explained to both of them you were unsure about inviting Carmy every time Ms. Mabel asked.

“W-well I would love for Carm to come with me,” you looked in his direction as his eyes fell to the floor, a blush coloring his cheeks. “But it’s last minute and who knows if he even has a suit. A-and I’ve taken up too much of his time already. Syd really needs him back at the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie narrowed her eyes at you being able to smell your bullshit before you even opened your mouth. “Well, speak up Carmen.”

You watched as Ms. Sadie raised her eyebrows to Carmy as he looked up, the older woman trying to communicate something without using words. “N-no…uh yeah, Baby’s right I uh gotta get back to the restaurant.”

Ms. Sadie didn’t even try to hide her sigh of disappointment as she shooed to two of you out of the house, Ms. Mabel joined her partner as they walked you and Carmy out to the porch, “We’ll see you for Sunday dinner right Baby?”

You nodded before being pulled into a hug by both women receiving kisses on both of your cheeks, “And you bet not show up here without Carmen.” Ms. Sadie’s words tickled your ear as she whispered to you before pulling away. You gave her a confused smile while nodding, since you’d been back in Chicago Ms. Sadie had made her disapproval of the youngest Berzatto clear, and you couldn’t pretend to know what had changed in the 30 minutes she was left alone with him.

Ms. Mabel and Ms. Sadie stood on their porch waving you and Carmy off as they watched his car pull away. “What got you invitin’ Carmen to our house for Sunday dinners?” Ms. Mabel looked up at her wife having heard her whisper to you, “Thought you didn’t like that boy after everything.”

The taller woman shrugged her shoulder before wrapping her arm around Ms. Mabel’s waist, “That boy just needed some sense smacked into him.” Before Ms. Mabel could open her mouth to protest, Ms. Sadie hushed her. “I’m just messin’ but before you scold me for not mindin’ my business you better figure out which one of us is the pot and which one is the kettle.”

They divulged into boisterous laughter as they stood there in each other’s embrace. Relishing in just how well they knew each other, “If that hardheaded boy don’t make his move tonight I’m uninvitin’ his ass from Sunday dinner.”

Ms. Sadie’s heart warmed as she watched Ms. Mabel’s face light up from just how much she laughed. Ms. Sadie led the smaller woman into the house, and although her jokes regarding the Berzatto boy got raucous laughter from her lover, she sure would be put out if she sat her old ass on that couch talking sense into that boy instead of watching her program and he decided the wisdom she kindly bestowed upon him didn’t need to be put to use.

a/n: i know this was a bit much for a filler chapter but i promise it sets up a very important story arc that we’ve all heavily been anticipating. hope you all enjoyed, hope you’re all doing amazing my loves! reblogs and comments are much appreciated! 🫶🏽🤎

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x you #carmy x you #carmy the bear x reader #the bear fic #the bear x reader #the bear x you #all i ever knew only you ₊‧°𐐪♡𐑂°‧₊

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wlw-imagines · 2 years ago

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Coffee Shop - Kara Danvers/Reader (Supergirl)

request: i found this prompt and was wondering if u could write it with kara danvers from supergirl pls?? "i started writing 'Supergirl' on your coffee cup as a joke because you kind of look like her but it actually turns out you are them oh shit - anon

a/n: these are from my old tumblr thefandomwritings from back in 2018 ! re-vamped and re-purposed (jk it is hardly edited at all) !! hope u enjoy and forgive the 2018 me style writing

Starting anywhere as a newbie was tough. Especially at this coffee shop... when you’d never made coffee before... and to be honest, you weren’t even really a coffee drinker. But, alas, you had rent to pay and a job opening had come through and you had been accepted for the job. More fool them.

The coffee shop was a busy one, constantly on the go. Your hands were already covered in burns and your new clean white apron was now covered in coffee drips and smears. Your shift had only started 45 minutes ago.

You let out a deep sigh and slouched, leaning on the serving desk to try and gather some energy before the next customer appeared. You really couldn’t bear some jackass in a fancy business suit complaining that you’d made their fancy coffee wrong again. Even though you had most definitely made it wrong.

As the next customer approached, you perked up slightly. Maybe the next 10 minutes of your life as a barista would be more bearable.

"Good morning, you must be new here! I'm Kara." She began and smiled cheerfully at you. She also added in an awkward wave before pushing her glasses up her nose.

"Uh, yes I am." You replied, letting your customer service smile develop into a real one. "Is it that obvious?" You laughed slightly, there was probably a 'newbie' aura about you (maybe it was the burnt hands?), it was fairly obvious how nervous you were, and you didn't need pretty girls making you even more flustered around boiling hot liquid.

"No, no! You're perfect- I mean, you know, you're great- doing great." She rambled, her cheeks reddening. "I pick up coffee from here every day before I go to work so I guess I just know everyone who works here pretty well."

“Morning Kara! The ususal?” Your co-worker, Liam, greeted her with a smile. He had been a slight godsend to you and had the patience of a saint. No matter how many times you had fucked it up.

“That would be great, but no rush!” She added, politely eying your resigned expression. You could hardly make 1 cup of coffee and now you had to make 6? For a pretty customer? Shit.

Liam nudged you, “Ready?” He smiled, his eyes slightly teasing as you took in a deep breath and nodded hesitantly.

“Yeah, sure, piece of cake.” You shrugged, taking the order note and looking to find the easiest first. Small steps.

On the first attempt of the first coffee you already found yourself once more cursing yourself for ever applying to work here in the first place. Your curses were interrupted by Kara looking at you with a worried look. "I'm sure you'll get the hang of it soon." She gave you an encouraging smile and you shot her a weary look.

"God, I really hope so." You mumbled, running your burnt hand under the tap for a couple of seconds.

After a short pause (and two successful coffees in) Kara cleared her throat and nodded towards the coffee machine, “It’s like riding a bike, right?”

“Huh?” You glance up quickly, confusion etched on your face.

“Making coffee. Once you learn, you’ll be set.” She elaborated, fiddling with her fingers anxiously.

You smiled slightly and gave an embarrased shrug, “I can’t ride a bike.” You admitted.

“You can’t?” She looked slightly crestfallen, hoping to have made you feel better rather than just make you feel worse about the situation. “Oh.” She faltered, annoyed with herself. Her brain searched for something else to say to make you feel better and to make you properly smile again. Before she could, you continued.

“I just never understood like, the pedalling? And the turning and also the gears?” You let out a soft laugh, “Although a bike makes more sense to me than this coffee machine so maybe I do have a chance.” You smiled up at her and her heart melted. That was the smile she was aiming for.

“I could teach you!” She burst out, without really thinking about what she was saying. Kara shook her head and tried again, “I mean, I like cycling. It’s easy once you get the pedalling and the turning and the gears down.”

You nodded, trying not to let her offer go to your head, “Do you also know how to make coffee by any chance?” You joked, standing up to properly face her and nodding your head over to the devil machine.

“Can’t help you there, sorry.” She put her hands out apologetically. You laugh and go to continue the conversation, but before you can Liam is nudging your shoulder and pointing to the coffee you were making.

“Y/N, the cup-” You turn around to see the coffee pouring out over the top of the cup, overfilling and spilling everywhere.

You leap towards the cup and let out a small, “Shit.”

9 cups of coffee later (3 of which were currently residing in the trash can), you carefully started to pass the cups into a holder, so she could carry all of them at the same time, and then hesitated.

"Which one is yours?" It’s your first shift and you're already trying to pick up girls. You decided to forgive yourself, you deserved it after the hell of this shift. Once it was pointed out (she had black coffee usually, which surprised you as it didn't seem to suit her sweet character), you wrote your number and drew a little picture of a superhero and labelled it 'Supergirl' - you were quite proud of yourself for making the art.

They didn't look identical or anything, but you had noticed that there were similarities from the moment she had stepped up to the counter. Once you were finished you slid the carrier of drinks and her black coffee over the counter.

She frowned slightly, looking suspiciously at the doodle on her cup. You shrugged, suddenly feeling a little self concious. You weren’t sure what about - the drawing? Your flirting? Your bad coffee skills? You cleared your throat.

"Well, it's a joke." You smiled at her. "Just because, well y'know, you look a bit like Supergirl...” She looked up at you, eyes slightly wide, which you couldn’t tell if it was a good sign or not, “If you just took away the glasses and added a cape-" You trailed off slightly when she started to look uncomfortable. You straightened up and cleared your throat feeling somewhat guilty that you seemed to have distressed your new (and favourite) customer. "Sorry, I meant it as a- it was supposed to be kind of like a compliment." You smiled gently, trying to show her that you didn't mean her any harm or discomfort. In the short space of time that you had met this women you couldn't help but feel completely distracted by her.

"Oh, right - Yes, of course... well, she is pretty strong and it must be kinda cool to be able to fly. Hypothetically speaking, of course. So, uh, yes. Thank you." She looked back at her cup then tilted her head to the side to read your writing. "Wait, what does that number mean?" Kara tilted her head, her eyes scanning her coffee cup. It's like she was deliberately trying to make your heart melt.

"That is my phone number." Blood rushed up to your cheeks. You don’t recall a time where you had to explain your pathetic attempts at flirting so much.

"Ah, right. Yes. Your phone number...” She nodded thoughtfully before her brows shot up and she looked back at you, a similar red creeping into her cheeks, “which I will phone you with." The realisation dawned on her face as it slowly sank in that you had just given her your number.

You laughed and leaned towards her again. "Yes." You nodded, licking your lips. "Or you can text me. It's up to you, if you were to want to go out sometime, that is."

"No- I mean yeah, I'd love to. That, that would be great. I-" She grinned and she nervously pushed her glasses up her nose again. "I should go but I hope to see you tomorrow?"

"Yeah, of course. As long as I haven't burnt the joint down, you'll definitely see me tomorrow." You joked and watched as she nodded slowly with a small smile in return and turned to leave.

As she walked out the door she looked back at you, giving you a little wave before walking out and away. You smiled and took a step back from the counter, mentally congratulating yourself on the win, until you knocked a cup of coffee from the side and it flew all over your feet.

“Shit.” Maybe your job here wouldn't last as long as you thought.

#kara danvers #supergirl #supergirl x reader #supergirl imagines #supergirl imagine #kara danvers x reader #kara danvers imagine #WLW #wlw imagines #wlw imagine #wlw x reader #wlw-imagines #coffee shop #lgbt #imagine #lesbian imagine

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blueskylinesx · 4 months ago

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Tomato Red Chapter 3

Parings: Jesse Cash x Female Reader

Warnings/Triggers: Language, anxiety/nervousness, sexual tension, fluff, masturbation, smut, self doubt, friends to lovers.

Summary: The local cafe/bookstore down the street was Jesse's usual hang out spot where he spent hours reading books and working on music. Until one day when he meets a new barista working the bookstore cafe. Suddenly, Jesse's reasons for visiting the bookstore down the road were no longer just for reading and work... but were suddenly meant for much more.

Author’s Note: I intended on having this chapter posted way sooner. I greatly apologize for the delay! This chapter took me a bit longer to write since life kept getting in the way. But, it’s a long one so I hope that makes up for it. 🩵 I used this little clip of Jesse from the ERRA Cure album videos because this is the EXACT look I was going for in this chapter. Enjoy loves!

Tag List: @thefallennightmare @xxkittenkissesxx @collidewiththesav @thatchickwiththecamera @cncohshit @lma1986 @arkiliastuff @lonelydragonlady

If you would like to be added to the tags list let me know! I would be happy to do so!😊

Thank you all SO fucking much for all the support on Tomato Red. It means the absolute world to me. Writing this story has been so fun and helps keep my mind occupied. I love you all so so so much!☕️🍅

JESSE

Holy shit. What was in those orange scones? I thought to myself.

I sat in the backseat of Michael’s car. Holding the paper cup from the cafe in between my hands that rested in my lap. Replaying all of what just happened in my mind while looking out of the window as the familiar buildings and cars passed by.

Never getting her smile or her beautiful greenish-blue tinted eyes out of my mind. I glanced back down at the cup in my lap and traced my thumb over the black letters that Y/N wrote on the back. A smile spreading across my face every time I read it.

“This is my sister's favorite drink and she’s the only one I make this special for. But, you seem pretty special yourself so this only seemed fitting. I hope you like it.

P.S that hat looks cute on you.”

Followed by her number that was written out directly underneath it. With a small black flower that she drew next to it.

I usually am never blunt enough to ask a girl for her number. Especially right to her face. Maybe it was the added pressure from the guys or whatever magic Y/N put into those scones. But, whatever it was, I was grateful for the confidence boost it gave me.

I now have Y/N’s phone number.

“Soooo, you two seemed to be getting pretty cozy over there.” Michaels voice from the driver's seat caused me to look up to meet his gaze in the rearview mirror.

“Did they kiss? I couldn’t tell if they kissed or not.” Jolly asked from the seat next to me.

Oh boy, we just left the cafe only ten minutes ago and they're already starting.

“Nah, I don't think they kissed. I was sitting right in front of Jesse and I definitely would have seen it.” Noah said from the front passenger seat.

“Hey! Do you think maybe you could slide your chair up a few inches man? You’re practically sitting in the backseat with me and Jesse. My legs are starting to cramp.” Jolly interrupted while pushing on the back of Noah’s chair.

Noah reached down to pull the lever from under the seat and used his legs to push the seat further back, slamming into Jolly’s legs.

“Oh, is this better?” Noah asked with a sly smirk on his face.

Jolly responded with a long frustrated sigh, “You’re such a dick.” Then wrapped his legs around the seat, resting his feet onto Noah’s chest, and then swinging both of his arms around the back of his head to rest his head onto them. “Ahhh, this is much better.”

“Dude! You’ve got your fucking shoes on and this is one of my favorite shirts! You’re gonna get Jesus all dirty! Have some respect man!” Noah exclaimed while throwing Jolly’s feet off of him.

“Then move your seat up!”

“Yo! You guys are gonna break my car!” Michael shouted while pulling into the driveway of our house.

“It’s like living with toddlers, I swear. I said as Michael put the car in park. I then turned to grab the door handle and stepped out onto the pavement.

Jolly and Noah were still bickering behind me as I made my way up to the front door. Then inserted my house key into the lock and stepped inside.

“Oh yuck, it’s way too hot in here. Who the fuck touched the AC?” Noah proclaimed while stepping into the house after me and walking over to the thermostat that sat on the wall.

Michael who was now standing next to me threw his hands up, “It was me! I woke up this morning and could see my fucking breath dude. That’s not normal! I’m going to get a cold.”

“Oh quit being a fucking pussy.” Noah responded while clicking the AC back down. “My session with Ash is in thirty minutes and I swear if this thing is touched by the time I get back I’m fucking shit up.”

I headed towards the staircase to make my way up to my bedroom. Leaving the voices of my bickering roommates to fade into the background. I then made my way down the hall and towards the first door on the right. Grabbing the silver handle of my bedroom door and then stepping inside.

Once in my room I kicked off my black boots and slid them to the side of the door with my foot. I then set the white paper cup from earlier on the nightstand next to my bed and then plopped down on the mattress before me.

Once situated in bed I turned over to grab my phone out of my back pocket then looked over at the cup sitting next to me on the nightstand.

Opening up the contacts tab of my phone, I clicked the create new contact button. Entering in Y/N’s number and then saving the contact as, "The most beautiful girl in the world.”

READER

The moment I stepped back behind the counter after speaking with Jesse, Kate was immediately on me. Dying to hear all about mine and Jesse’s conversation and all of the details.

It was Sunday so the cafe and bookstore closed early. It was the only day of the week we closed at 6pm.

Since Sunday’s typically were the slowest day of the week for us Kate always scheduled me and her to close together.

While we spent the rest of our shifts cleaning up and closing down the cafe, I told Kate all about mine and Jesse’s conversation and how he had asked me for my number. To which I’m sure my face was bright red the entire time.

I then told her about me writing my number on the cup but left out the details about the other note I had written above it. That was for Jesse only.

“Soooo, do you think he’s going to text you tonight?” Kate asked with anticipation while she was counting down the register drawer.

“I don’t know, but I sure hope so. He seemed really happy after I wrote my number down for him.”

“Well of course he did, Y’N. You’re gorgeous and you’re one of the kindest people I know. He would be dumb to pass up any opportunity with you.”

“That’s very sweet of you but, you’re my sister and you’re supposed to say those things.” I responded back with a chuckle.

“I don’t have to say anything. It's true. You’re not like the other typical girls here in LA. No shade to them, but you have more interests than shopping, Cesar salads, and Starbucks.”

I let out another chuckle at her response while finishing wiping down the espresso machines.

“Jesse lucked out by crossing paths with you, Y/N. Like I said before, he would be stupid to pass up something like this. But my gut tells me that Jesse also isn’t like the other typical guys in LA. You know my gut feeling is usually never wrong.”

I hated to admit it but it was true. Kate always had a way of knowing things. I’ve always joked with her about how she chose the wrong degree to pursue and instead of going to school to become an art teacher, she should have gone to school to become a detective.

I also joked with her that if the art teacher thing didn’t pan out, at least she would have a back up plan. She also never found that one very funny either.

My phone suddenly vibrated in my front hoodie pocket and I eagerly pulled it out, almost dropping it onto the floor.

“Nice catch.” Kate said while she turned to look back over at me after putting the cash from the drawer in the safe envelope.

“Thank you”, I replied back while clicking open my phone to quickly scroll past my Lock Screen and over to my notifications.

Medication Log

This is your reminder to take your 7pm “Birth Control”.

With a disappointing sigh I clicked the button on the side of my phone to turn off the screen and slid it back into my front hoodie pocket.

“I take it that it wasn't a text from Jesse?” Kate asked while taking off her apron.

“No, just my birth control reminder.”

“I’m sorry sis, maybe by the time we get back home he’ll send a text? He might not want to come off desperate or anything. He’s a guy, they’re usually always overthinking those kinds of things.”

Untying my apron and wrapping it over my arm, I turned to click off the cafe lights and then opened the silver door for me and Kate to walk through.

We then made our way to the back office where we kept our belongings and I grabbed my purse out from under the desk and pulled my car keys out of the front pocket.

Looping them around my finger and then motioning towards the back cafe door and out into the parking lot.

With Kate behind me she turned to insert her cafe key into the lock, double checking and twisting the knob a few times to make sure the door was securely locked before we both headed towards our cars.

Before opening her car door Kate hollered over at me, “Hey don’t let it get to you too much. He could just be busy or something. When we get home I’ll order us a pizza and we can watch those cheesy paranormal investigation shows you love so much.”

“Yeah”, I sighed into my car door. “You’re right, he’s probably just busy or something. But pizza sounds good. I follow you tonight on the way home?” I asked before finally opening my car door to sit inside.

“Sounds like a plan!” Kate yelled out from her window before starting her car and backing out of the parking space.

I inserted and turned the keys into the ignition and then backed out of the parking space to follow behind Kate towards our apartment.

READER

Once me and Kate got back home I immediately headed towards my bedroom. Thankfully my bathroom was attached to my room so once I was inside I stripped myself out of my coffee scented work clothes.

Tossing them into the hamper inside my closet and then making my way to the bathroom to turn the shower on, twisting the handle all the way to the hot side.

Before getting undressed I had set my phone on my nightstand and plugged it into the charger. Hopeful that I would receive a text from a certain someone. So I wanted to make sure my battery was fully charged. Just in case.

I pulled the shower curtain back once the bathroom was filled up with enough steam letting me know the water was hot. I then stepped inside and let the water run over my back and my face.

When my eyes shut I immediately envisioned Jesse’s face in my mind.

I began to wonder what it would be like if he was here, in the shower with me right now. How he would look standing in front of me, completely naked, while the hot water dripped down the tattoos that covered his skin.

My hands began to lower from my face and slowly down my neck making way to my chest. The thoughts kept coming, each time growing louder and louder, all filled with Jesse.

How if he were here he’d have his arms wrapped around me, leaving kisses all over my shoulders and back. Holding me tightly against him while our bodies molded perfectly to each other.

Then how he’d have me pinned up against the tiled wall, holding me up with both of his hands on my ass, fucking ruthlessly into me. The both of us moaning into each other's mouths while the hot water continues to fall on both our bodies.

My hands now past my breasts sliding further down my core and making their way to my pussy. I slipped two fingers between my folds and I was soaked. These thoughts of Jesse alone set both my heart and my pussy on fire.

I inserted both fingers inside of me and began to pump them in and out while continuing to picture Jesse having his way with me. How he’d slap my ass and bite my neck, and how I would lightly scratch my nails into his back and tug on his curls while his cock stretched me open.

My fingers moved faster and faster and I could feel my core tightening. I bit my bottom lip and desperately wished that it was Jesse’s fingers inside of me right now rather than my own.

Feeling my release building up I let out a moan while my orgasm shook through me. My legs almost buckling out from under me.

It had been a long time since I last masturbated. With all the hours I was working at the cafe I was always too tired to even think about pleasuring myself these last few weeks.

“This man is going to be a problem.” I said out loud to myself while pulling the shower head down from the holder.

I began to run the water over the rest of my body so I could finally begin washing my hair and my body.

JESSE

Noah came back from his session with Ash about two hours ago. While he was gone Michael, Jolly, and I played Grand Theft Auto out on the living room TV.

All of us seated on the couch laughing together, spending way too long putting in cheat codes to fall out of the sky and trying to land into the swimming pools.

Michael had mentioned ordering Chinese food earlier so I sent Noah a text asking if wanted anything.

Which ended up working out since the martial arts academy where Noah trains is in the same complex as the Chinese restaurant we always order from. So he was able to walk next door and grab the food before coming back home.

All of us were seated in the kitchen. Noah was sitting on top of the counter still in his kickboxing shorts and black tee shirt from his session earlier. Michael sat on the island countertop across from Noah in just a pair of blue and white plaid pajama pants.

Jolly and I sat at the kitchen table together. Jolly was also wearing a pair of solid black pajama pants and a white tank top. I had changed into a pair of blue sweatpants and a gray tee shirt earlier before coming down to play GTA with the boys.

“So Jesse, have you texted Y\N yet?” Noah asked while taking a bite out of his lo-mein.

I’ve been thinking about texting her since the second I got into the backseat of Michael’s car.

“No not yet, I know she was busy at work and I didn’t want to be a bother. I think the cafe closes around nine or ten? So I was waiting until around then to shoot her a text.”

“My guy!” Jolly shouted with his mouth full from the egg roll he just bit into. “Smart to text her when she isn’t distracted. That way you can get a better conversation going.”

“For once Jolly is making sense.” Michael started with a laugh. “I’m proud of you Jesse. She seems really into you man and you both seemed real into each other back at the cafe. I can’t remember a time when you weren’t out in public somewhere shaking with nerves.”

“I’m not always shaking with nerves when I’m out in public.”

“Being on stage with ERRA doesn’t count man.” Jolly chimed in.

“Hey that’s different Jolly you know that.” Noah stated while going to take another bite of his fried rice.

I brushed a hand over my face before going back in to take a bite of my wonton soup. “Gee guys, thanks for the pep talk.”

“We’re just giving you a hard time Jess. Seriously we’re super stoked for you man. She seems like a cool girl and you two really hit it off.” Michael said while hopping down off the counter and placing the lid back on top of his chicken chow mein.

“Thanks man, she is a super cool girl and I can’t wait to talk to her and learn more about her.”

“Just take it slow, I know you know what you’re doing. But take it from me dude, don’t jump into something super fast without really analyzing the situation from all points.” Noah added.

“I appreciate all the words of advice and encouragement guys. Seriously. Even though you all get on my goddamn nerves I love you and it’s nice to share a space with you all sometimes.”

“Sometimes?!?!l" Jolly blurted out with his mouth still full of food. “Don’t act like I’m not your favorite roommate Jess. Who else would jump off the roof with you and into the pool at 3am?”

“That’s very true. Noah was too busy getting his beauty sleep and Michael was too much of a pussy to step out onto the roof.”

“Hey! It had rained earlier that day and the roof was wet. I was not about to put myself in a dangerous situation where I could have slipped and potentially died.” Michael responded while throwing his hands up.

“Such a drama queen.” I said with a laugh.

I clicked the lid back onto the wonton soup that was left over in the container. Then I made my way towards the fridge to set the container of soup inside on the top shelf next to the other items of food that were mine.

“Well, it’s time for this old man to get to bed.”

“You mean to go text Y/N?” Noah responded.

With a smile on my face and a roll of my eyes I turned from my three roommates and made my way out of the kitchen and back into the front room to ascend up the stairs and towards my bedroom.

“Have fun!!” The three of them all called out from the kitchen.

Making my way back into my room, I pulled my phone out from my pocket and pulled up Y/N’s contact. Clicking on the message bubble underneath her contact photo, working my fingers against the screen to type out a message.

I then sat down in my black office chair and set my phone screen side up on the desk before me. Then I rolled the chair over to grab my red Ibanez guitar off the stand to play a few notes to keep my anxious mind occupied while I awaited a response back.

READER

Finishing with washing my body I turned to shut the shower off. Wringing the water out from my hair before stepping onto the black bath mat.

I reached over to the towel rack and grabbed my lavender colored hair towel bending over to wrap my hair up first. Once my hair was securely wrapped I then grabbed the larger green towel to wrap around my body.

Once covered I made my way to the sink and did my nighttime face routine. Finishing it off brushing my teeth and with a garggle of mouth wash.

I then opened the bathroom door fully and stepped out into the chilly air of my bedroom. The goosebumps casting over my body being a definite sign Kate had already set the thermostat down to the usual temperature of Alaska for the night.

I walked over to my dresser to open the smallest drawer on the top that was filled with all my panties. Grabbing the first pair on top which was a sheer black thong. I then bent down to the third drawer which was filled with all my t-shirts and pulled out an old oversized rainbow tie dye shirt I got forever ago back in Florida.

Then finished my nighttime pajama set with a pair of fluffy pink socks to help keep my toes from going numb in the middle of the light.

Before making my way into bed I grabbed my phone off the nightstand that was sitting face down. I took a deep breath before turning it over to click the screen on. A text notification suddenly showing up across the top of the screen from a number I didn’t recognize.

Was this him?

With my heart beat picking up pace I scrolled up on my Home Screen and clicked the text notification to pull up the text thread.

From Unknown Number: Hey you, I was going to text you earlier but I figured you were busy with work. Hopefully it’s not too late and I didn’t wake you. I just couldn’t stop thinking about you and those delicious orange scones. Hope to hear back from you soon. - Jesse😊

A giant smile spread across my face as I quickly saved Jesse’s number to my phone. Then eagerly typed back my response.

Y/N: Hey, I’m sorry for responding back late. I was in the shower and just now got out and saw your text. Work thankfully wasn’t too busy after you guys left. Sundays are usually pretty easy since we close at 6 and it’s always me & Kate closing. But, I’m definitely going to have to make a mental note to make an extra plate of orange scones, just for you.😉

JESSE🌺: You don’t ever have to apologize for responding late. Admittedly, I’m a bad texter myself so I totally get it. But, I’ll try to make a habit out of becoming better, especially now that I’m texting you. Also will definitely be looking forward to my own special plate of Y’N scones.

Y/N: You know how to make a girl blush, Jesse. I’m glad you liked the scones. Did the matcha latte come to meet the same standards? You can be honest…

JESSE🌺: I’ve never had a matcha latte before today and I honestly didn’t even know what that was. But, I will never order any other drink again. Hands down the best latte I’ve ever had. Thank you for helping me get outside the box and trying something new.

God, this man was making my heart flutter. I swear it could have beaten right out of my chest.

Y/N: Are you sure? Or are you just saying that to try to get on my good side?🤔

JESSE🌺: Wait. Was I not on your good side before?🥺

Y/N: Hmm…Well, as long as you keep coming to see me then yes, I’d say that you’re on my good side, Jesse.

JESSE🌺: Are you working tomorrow? I’m craving an orange scone and a matcha latte… and another face to face conversation with the beautiful girl that made them for me.

My cheeks instantly flushed pink and I could feel the warmth building from within them. My stomach was doing flips and every time a new message from Jesse came through I would let out a little squeal. I forgot what it felt like to feel like this for someone. Jesse made me giddy with excitement and every time I talked to him, I just couldn’t help but smile the entire time.

I took a deep breath in an attempt to help calm my nerves before texting Jesse back.

Y/N: I’m actually off tomorrow, which is a miracle. I worked the last three weekends straight to help Kate out with the morning bakes so she promised to give me this weekend off.

I bit my bottom lip and let my fingers dance over the keyboard of my phone. Feeling braver than normal, I typed out another text and quickly hit send before allowing myself to overthink the situation and backing out.

Y/N: But, I don’t have any plans or anything. If you wanted to maybe catch up for a bit, if you’re free?

Oh god. Was that too forward? Is he going to think that I’m weird? Already asking to hang out outside of the cafe only after our two short conversations. I shouldn’t have sent the second text. I got too confident and now I probably blew it.

My phone suddenly buzzed against my chest and I eagerly flipped it over to open the incoming text message.

JESSE🌺: Did you read my mind? I was just going to ask you if you wanted to go grab lunch together since you aren’t working. Do you like sushi?

My giant smile instantly returned.

Y/N: Great minds think alike I guess! But yes, I love sushi!😊

JESSE🌺: There’s this really great sushi place that’s a few minutes from my place. Me and my roommates eat there all the time and it’s one of my favorite spots in all of LA. If you’d like I can pick you up and we could ride over together? If you’re comfortable of course.

Another squeal left my mouth and I excitedly tapped away my response.

Y/N: That’s very kind of you, Jesse. I would love to ride over together! What time should I be ready?

JESSE🌺: I can pick you up at 11:30? Then we’d make it there right on time at noon for lunch. If that works for you.😊

Y/N: 11:30 is perfect! I’m looking forward to it!

JESSE🌺: Me too, and I was already having a hard time keeping you off my mind… Now I’ll be up all night counting down the hours until I’m seeing you again.

Y/N: You really are a charmer, Jesse. I’ll be counting down the hours until I see you again too, handsome. Thank you again for inviting me out.🥰

JESSE🌺: Anytime, gorgeous. I hope you have sweet dreams. I’m going to attempt to force myself to go to sleep so that the time goes by quicker. Can’t wait to see you tomorrow.

Y/N: Sweet dreams to you too, Jesse. I can’t wait to see you tomorrow as well. Good night.❤️

I rolled over on my side to face my nightstand once again. Grabbing my charger off the top and inserting it into the bottom of my phone to charge.

I opened up my alarm app and set an alarm for 9am to ensure I had plenty of time to wake up and get ready for tomorrow.

With my alarm set, I rolled back over in bed, kicking my feet under the covers with excitement. The cold air that filled my room suddenly forced itself under the covers once I kicked my feet and I immediately tucked the blankets back underneath me in a makeshift cocoon.

With one arm lazily laying on the pillow above my head I closed my eyes, with a big smile still spread across my face, and attempted to fall asleep so I could be greeted with the sight of Jesse once again.

JESSE

Holy fuck. I did it, I’m taking Y/N out for lunch tomorrow.

Throughout texting with Y/N I had made my way back over and into my bed. I was tucked under my dark green comforter and my room was casted in a cozy glow from the red lava lamp that sat atop my dresser.

Me and Y/N had spent the last few hours texting back and forth. Her last message came through at almost 1am.

I laid here in bed in an attempt to drift off to sleep once I shut my eyes. But, my mind kept wandering back to that first text message I had received from her.

“Hey, I’m sorry for responding back late. I was in the shower and just now got out and saw your text. Work thankfully wasn’t too busy after you guys left. Sundays are usually pretty easy since we close at 6 and it’s always me & Kate closing. But, I’m definitely going to have to make a mental note to make an extra plate of orange scones, just for you.😉”

One specific part replaying in my mind.

“I was in the shower.”

Fuck. It’s not right to be thinking those thoughts about her. What would she think if she knew that the last few hours while talking with me, I couldn’t help myself from picturing what she looked like standing there, with the warm water running down her naked form.

I shook my head in an attempt to keep the thoughts out.

But it was unsuccessful. They immediately came crawling right back the second I closed my eyes again. I could feel my cock twitching underneath the covers from within my briefs.

What was this hold she had over me? No other girl has ever consumed me like she does. She’s intoxicating and my soul longs to get its fix, never fully satisfied, always desperately longing for more.

More time with her, more conversations with her, more of her in general.

Images of Y/N standing bare in the shower kept flashing in my mind. Water running down her slender form, the steam casting a warm glow all over her body.

I licked my lips at the thought alone. Wishing so desperately this vision was real. That I was standing there in that shower with her.

My eyes tracing over every single curve. Dragging my hands over her entire form and leaving sweet kisses all over her body.

My cock was hard and I could feel it pressing even harder against my briefs. Begging for release.

I ran my hand under the covers, pulling my cock out, and firmly grasped it, beginning to slowly stroke up and down.

Grunts creeped out of my mouth as I continued to stroke my cock up and down. Taking my thumb to brush along the top, gathering the precum that was oozing out of the slit.

I pictured myself behind Y/N, having her bent over with both of her hands placed on both sides of the tub, bare ass up in the air for me as the warm water fell over both of our bodies.

My hands gripping the sides of her hips and as I dig my fingertips into her to keep my grip.

Her breasts motioning back and forth from me fucking her from behind, droplets of water falling from her nipples and onto the tub below us.

Y/N’s soft moans echoing off of the bathroom walls, sounding like pure bliss to my ears. With the sounds of our skin smacking against each other.

“Oh god Jesse. Your cock feels so fucking good inside of me.”

I smack her ass, leaving a light pink hand print on the side of her left ass cheek.

My strokes getting faster now and my breathing becoming erratic. My heart was pumping with adrenaline and I knew it wouldn’t be much longer before my release spilled into my hands.

My stomach began to tighten and my orgasm seconds away from completely overtaking me.

“YO JESSE!” Three loud bangs to the front of my bedroom door.

I sprang up in my bed, knocking the sheets off of me and onto the floor, my heart almost falling right out of my ass.

“We know your ass isn’t asleep! Whenever you’re done in there texting your little crush get your ass downstairs! Noah wants to rewatch Game Of Thrones!” Michael shouted from the opposite side of my door.

“Uhh, uh, yeah, just give me a minute and I’ll be down there.”

“Why do you sound so out of breath? Oh no, don’t tell me… GUYS I THINK JESSE IS BEATING HIS MEAT!!”

Just like that, my dignity was gone along with my orgasm.

“Fuck off! I was just tidying up my room and the sheets were giving me a hard time. The top right corner kept coming off.” I replied while still trying to catch my breath.

“Riiiiiiight. Well we’ll be on the couch waiting while you get your dick back in your pants.”

“My dick is in my pants idiot.” I replied while pulling my sweatpants back up my legs and over my briefs.

With a long sigh I quickly patted down my messy bed ridden hair and adjusted my shirt. With everything back in order and my breathing back to normal I headed over towards my bedroom door and opened it. Being greeted by Michael who was leaning against the wall with a sly smirk on his face.

Ignoring him, I immediately turned towards the staircase and made my way down to the front room where my two other roommates were laying on the couch with the Game Of Thrones opening playing on the TV.

READER

My alarm abruptly woke me from my deep sleep. I turned over to silence it and to look at the time. The clock read back 9am.

I set my phone back down on the nightstand before me and stretched out my arms above my head and let out a long yawn.

Mine and Jesse’s text messages replaying in my mind from last night.

I finally rolled out of bed, the excitement of mine and Jesse’s lunch date giving me all the energy I needed to not snooze my alarm another four times like usual.

I sprang over to my closet and clicked on the light switch. Rummaging through all my clothes on the hangers before me. I wanted to make sure my outfit was perfect for today.

Something that would be cute and show effort, but nothing too crazy that made me look like I was trying too hard.

I finally came across one of my short black dresses and I pulled it out to take a full look at it. Not remembering the last time I had worn it. Which was a real shame because I had forgotten how much I loved this dress.

I turned to the opposite side of the closet where I kept my long sleeves and sweaters hung. I reached for a white turtleneck long sleeve. I wanted to pair it with the dress to look a little more formal for a lunch date.

With the dress and shirt both in my hands I made my way back out to my bedroom and tossed them on the bed. I then made my way over to my dresser along the wall and reached into my sock drawer to pull out a pair of black sheer tights.

Walking back over to my bed, I quickly undressed out of my oversized shirt and socks from last night and began dressing in the clothes before me.

With everything on I walked over to my black sticker covered mirror that hung on the wall beside my closet.

Taking a good once over at my outfit. I was happy with how everything looked. I then made my way back into my closet to pull out my black platform doc marten boots.

Grabbing a pair of high black socks out of my dresser and putting them on before slipping into my doc’s.

My outfit now finally complete. I made my way into my bathroom and brushed my teeth and settled on putting my hair into a braid. It was a warmer day in LA today and with the longsleeve and tights I knew it would be too hot to wear it down.

Once back into my bedroom I decided to throw on some jewelry. I opened the small jewelry box that sat on top of my dresser and grabbed out a few silver rings and a simple silver chain necklace. I then grabbed out a pair of my black dangle flower earrings and did one last look over in the mirror.

Adjusting my hair to sit on my right shoulder, I smoothed down my dress and then grabbed my black bag off the hook from the back of my bedroom door. Then sprayed myself all over with my coconut vanilla body mist.

Before grabbing the door handle I quickly checked my phone. The time now showing 10:15am. I let out a small nervous breath and shook out the nerves before finally opening my door and stepping out into the hallway.

I ended up falling asleep after texting Jesse so I never made it back out to watch Ghost Adventures with Kate last night.

Thankfully she worked this morning so I was able to avoid her wrath until later tonight when I got back home.

I walked over to the kitchen to grab a bottle of water out from the fridge. Taking a few sips to help with the nervous knots that were forming in my stomach.

My text tone suddenly went off from my phone in the front pocket of my purse. I reached in to grab it and pulled it out to be greeted with a text message from Jesse showing across the screen.

Those giddy butterflies suddenly forming again.

JESSE🌺: Good morning, gorgeous. I just wanted to let you know that I’m walking out my front door and heading to my car now. Could you text me your address?

The excited squeals also came back as I typed out my address and hit send.

JESSE🌺: GPS says I should be there in 15! Looking forward to lunch with you. See you soon.😊

Y/N: Looking forward to lunch with you too, handsome. Thank you again for coming to pick me up. See you soon!🩵

JESSE

Letting out a deep breath I inserted my keys into the ignition and turned on the car. The AC immediately blasting me in the face.

I reached over to the center console below the touch screen radio and twisted the AC knob down a few clicks.

With Y/N’s address loaded up on my phone, I reached for my phone chord and plugged it in to showcase the GPS on the center screen before me.

Before clicking go, I did a quick look over in the rear view mirror and adjusted my hair. Making sure my curls were in order.

I patted down the gray corduroy botton up that I layered over one of my white t-shirts and dusted off a few pieces of lint from the top of my jeans.

Finally hitting go on the maps app on my phone the directions loaded up onto the screen and I put my car in reverse to back out of the driveway and onto the street.

Y/N’s place was only a fifteen minute drive from my house.

I pulled into her apartment complex, driving through the street slowly to make sure I didn’t pass up her building. The nerves now starting to set in.

What if she decides not to come out? Is my outfit okay? Should I have worn something else? Is my cologne strong enough? I hope I smell okay…

Shaking the thoughts out in an attempt to clear my head I appeared in front of Y/N’s apartment building. Parking in one of the guest spots out front.

I reached over for my phone and pulled up her contact to send her a quick text message letting her know that I was outside.

Y/N: Coming down now!😊

Oh shit. She’s coming. This is actually happening.

Letting out another deep breath I clicked the unlock botton for the doors and anxiously waited for her to make her way into the parking lot while nervously tapping my hands on my knees.

When all of a sudden she appeared out from the staircase in the center of the building. The sunlight bouncing off of her hair that she put into a braid, resting on her shoulder.

Her pale skin glistened with every step she took and the black dress she wore hugged her body perfectly. The black sheer tights wrapped around her toned legs and I licked my lips at the sight of her. She was fucking beautiful.

As she neared closer I quickly reached for my door handle and stepped out of my car. Making my way over to the passenger side to open the door for her.

The bouquet of pink flowers I had purchased earlier this morning rested on the passenger seat.

“Hey you!” Y/N said with a smile on her face as she came up next to me. “You didn’t have to get the door for me Jesse, I feel bad that you had to get out of the cool AC.”

I returned a smile back to her. “I would never make a girl as gorgeous as you open the door while I just sat inside the car.”

Y/N bent down, her face lighting up as soon as she saw the flowers sitting in the seat. “Oh my gosh Jesse, are these for me?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s not too much. I saw them today when I was out doing some grocery shopping with my roommates. That shade of pink is one of the most beautiful I’ve seen and it reminded me of you.”

I swallowed hard, hoping that what I just said didn’t sound weird. But it was true, I meant every word.

With Y/N now sitting in the seat with the flowers resting in her lap I closed the door behind her and made my way back over to the driver's side. Climbing in and pulling my seatbelt down over me.

“Jesse, thank you so much. These are beautiful!” Y/N brought the flowers up to her nose to take a small whiff. “And they smell incredible.”

“You don’t have to thank me. If anything I should be thanking you for giving me the pleasure of taking you out to lunch today.” I pulled up the address of the sushi place on my phone and put it on the center console screen.

As I put the car in reverse I glanced back over at Y/N who was sitting with her legs crossed. Her legs looked so sexy in those tights and thoughts of rubbing my hands over her thighs quickly rushed into my brain.

This was the first time I had seen her outside of the cafe and the first time her legs weren’t hidden behind her usual work attire. It was driving me crazy.

“I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but you look absolutely beautiful Y/N.”

She looked over at me and I could feel her gaze casting against the side of my cheek as I stared at the road before me. Both hands nervously gripping the steering wheel.

“That’s very sweet Jesse. I hope you don’t mind me saying this either, but you look very handsome. I really like that shirt on you.”

I wasn’t sure if her licking her lips after saying that was real or if I had imagined it. However, it didn’t help the thoughts that kept creeping into the back of my mind. Or the temptation of stealing glances at her crossed legs.

I could feel my cock starting to get hard from under my jeans and I adjusted in my seat in an attempt to hide it.

The AC caused a few of her stray hairs to blow around and as she tucked them behind her ears I began to pick up on the smell of her vanilla coconut perfume. The same scent that hit me like a ton of bricks the first time she walked past me that first day I saw her.

“Is the AC okay? I asked while clearing my throat. “If it’s too hot or too cold I can adjust it.”

“Oh no, it’s perfect actually.”

She was perfect.

“I seriously can not thank you enough Jesse, for all of this. This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me.”

I made a left turn to pull into the parking lot and pulled into one of the spots directly out front of the sushi restaurant.

“You don’t have to thank me, Y/N. Seriously, it’s the least that I could do. I can’t thank you enough for coming to get sushi with me. I’ve been looking forward to this since you agreed last night.

I put the car in park and clicked off my seatbelt. After turning the car off I reached for the door handle and stepped outside onto the pavement. Then I made my way around the car and back at the passenger side to open Y/N’s door.

“Do you think the flowers will be ok in the car while we eat?” She asked while stepping out and flattening down her dress.

“We shouldn't be in there for too long so they should be fine.”

“Okay, they’re just so beautiful I don’t want anything to happen to them.” She said with a light giggle and then placed the flowers gently back down in the seat. Then reached for the seatbelt and clicked it over the bouquet.

“There. That way they’re extra secure.”

She was the cutest damn thing.

I closed the door behind her and motioned towards the door of the restaurant before us.

“Have you ever been here before?”

Y/N walked right next to me, our arms gently brushing against each other as we inched closer to the front door of the restaurant.

“No, never. This will be my first time so I’m super excited.”

A warm feeling crept over me knowing that this will be Y/N’s first time eating here and that it was with me. This was one of my usual go-to places and I was happy to be the first one she was going to experience it with.

I reached for the door handle and pulled the door open with my hand hovering over Y/N’s back as she stepped inside. The cool breeze from the AC once again blew her scent into me. My mouth always watering from the smell of vanilla coconut.

“Table for two?” The young lady from behind the counter asked as we approached the hostess stand.

“Yes please.” I replied.

She grabbed two menus out from the menu holder beside her and motioned for us to follow behind her.

Me and Y/N yet again walking side by side as our arms gently grazed up against one another.

The lady set the menus down on the table before us. “Your server will be over shortly.”

“Thank you.” I let Y/N climb into the booth first, picking which side she preferred. Once she was seated, I scooted into the booth opposite of her. I thought about sitting on the same side as her, but worried that may be too much for our first time hanging out together.

I didn’t want to do anything to make her uncomfortable or to overstep any boundaries.

Y/N picked the menu off of the table, “Oh my gosh, everything here looks delicious.” She then flipped the menu over to the back, “They even have gyoza! I can already tell I’m going to love this place.”

“Yeah, their gyoza is really good! I used to get it all the time but I could never finish it by myself so I always ended up giving the rest to one of my roommates.”

“Would you wanna share an order with me?” She asked while peering up from the menu.

I looked up to meet her gaze, “Yeah, I’d love to.”

Our server suddenly appeared at our table and laid out a stack of napkins before us, “Sorry for the wait guys, I just got double sat so I’m trying to get caught up. Thank you for being so patient. My name is Amanda and I’ll be your server this afternoon. What can I get you two to drink?”

“Oh, no worries at all! Could I have a sweet tea please?” Y/N asked.

“Ok one sweet tea and would you like lemon?”

“No thank you.”

“What can I get for you, sir?” Amanda turned her gaze away from Y/N to now look at me.

“Can I have a Coke please?”

“Alrighty one Coke. Did you guys want to start with any appetizers?”

“Yes please, we wanted to do an order of the gyoza.” I replied back.

“Would you guys like them steamed or fried?”

I glanced over at Y/N, “ladies choice.”

Y/N smiled and a slight pink hue flushed to her cheeks, “Hm, I think I’m feeling rebellious today, let’s go with fried.”

“Ok so I’ve got one sweet tea with no lemon, a Coca Cola, and an order of fried gyoza. That sound right?”

“Perfect.” I answered.

“Alright I’ll go put the gyoza in and I’ll be right back with your drinks.”

Amanda stuffed her server book into the front pocket of her apron before heading back over to the kitchen.

“It’s so cute in here, I can’t believe I’ve never checked this place out before! Especially since it’s right down the road from mine and Kate’s apartment.”

I looked around at all the Japanese themed decor and the large bonsai tree that sat in the center of the restaurant.

“Yeah it is huh? I typically order take out whenever I eat here so I sort of forgot how this place looks from the inside. Kinda feels like this is my first time here too.” I joked.

Amanda appeared back at the table with our drinks and set them down before us with two straws. “Your gyoza will be out in just a few. Have we decided on what we are having for lunch?”

“Ladies first.” I motioned over towards Y/N.

“Can I please do one of the California rolls and then one of the spicy tuna rolls?”

“Good choice.” Amanda said while writing Y/N’s order down. “How about you, sir?”

“I’ll also do one of the California rolls and one of the spicy salmon rolls please.”

“Also another good choice. Anything else or will that be it?” Amanda asked with a click of her pen.

“I think that will do it for us.” I answered back.

Amanda grabbed our menus off the table. “Alright we will have that right out for you. Your gyoza should be about ready now I’m gonna go check on it.”

Amanda reappeared a few moments later and set the plate of gyoza down in front of us. “Here you go, enjoy!”

“Thank you so much.” Me and Y/N both said at the same time.

Me and Y/N both reached for one of the gyoza’s and our hands brushed against one another. The warmth of her skin sent a shiver down my spine.

Y/N glanced up at me with those beautiful eyes and I swallowed hard. I couldn’t believe someone as beautiful as her was sitting before me right now. She made it hard to breathe.

I still don’t know what I did in this life to get so lucky to have Y/N cross my path. But whatever it was, I will spend eternity giving all my thanks.

Y/N was easily the most beautiful girl I’ve ever laid my eyes on. The fact that I was sitting across from her and eating lunch with her right now still never fully set in.

She was way out of my league and I knew that I couldn’t do anything to fuck up whatever this could potentially be.

“Holy shit, this is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth.”

I looked up from the plate of gyoza to see Y/N chewing with the biggest smile across her face. “I’m glad you like them.”

“Jesse, this is hands down the best gyoza I’ve ever eaten. Thank you so much for bringing me here.”

I laughed at her comment and the cuteness of her cheeks puffing out from the gyoza she had shoved in them. “Anytime, especially if it’s with you.”

READER

My cheeks burned from how much blushing I’ve been doing the last few hours I’ve spent with Jesse.

Our sushi orders came out earlier and we both were just about finished with our meal. “Ugh, I’m absolutely stuffed.” I said while holding a hand over my stomach.

“Agreed I ate way too much, but it’s just so good I couldn’t stop.” Jesse replied back.

Our server Amanda went to go grab us boxes so we could take home the leftovers.

Jesse had his hand up on the table and I had spent the entire time stealing glances down at his hands. The way his fingers would tap against the table made my pussy clench. He had the sexiest hands I’ve ever seen and I desperately wanted them all over me.

My phone started ringing from inside my purse, causing me to break sight from Jesse’s fingertips. I reached in and pulled it out. Kate’s contact photo appearing on the screen.

“I’m so sorry, Kate is calling me. Do you mind if I take it?”

“Of course. You don’t ever have to ask permission Y/N.”

I clicked on the green answer button bringing the phone up to my ear.

“Hello?”

“So Jasmine called out tonight, of course, but before you have a heart attack, don’t worry. I’m not calling you to ask you to come in. I’m just gonna stay and close with Kristina and get my overtime pay. But I just wanted to let you know that I won’t be home until later tonight.”

“Oh shit, are you sure you’re okay with staying and closing Kate? You’ve been there since four this morning. There’s no one else you can call to come in?”

“Unfortunately no, the only person I could call in would be Tyler but he already worked this morning and I know he won’t come back and work a double.” Kate then let out a frustrated sigh. “But whatever, it’s fine. The overtime pay will get me through it.”

I glanced over at Jesse who was now putting both of our left over food into the to go boxes.

“I’m so sorry sis. If you need anything at all just text or call me.”

“I will Y/N, but I’ll be fine. It’s nothing I haven’t done before. Just one of the awesome perks that comes with being a manager. But I gotta go, Kristina is out on the floor by herself so I better go make sure she isn’t burning the place down. I’ll see you later tonight. Love you.”

“Love you too.” I replied back before pulling the phone from my ear to disconnect the call.

“Everything okay?” Jesse asked.

“Yeah, Kate got stuck having to close the cafe tonight. She’s been there since four this morning so she’s not too happy about it.”

“Oh shit, that sucks. If you need to go and help her out I totally understand. I can drop you off at the cafe if you need me to.”

“You’re so sweet to offer, Jesse. Thank you. But I couldn’t work tonight even if I wanted to. If I did it would put me in overtime and since I’m not a manager I’m not allowed to work any hours over my usual forty.”

Our server Amanda came back to the table and laid the bill upside down. “Take your time no rush! I’ll come back whenever you guys are ready.”

Jesse grabbed the bill and pulled his wallet out from his back pocket. He grabbed his card and handed it along with the receipt back to Amanda.

“Jesse what are you doing?” I asked with an eyebrow raised. “Why did you pay the bill?”

“I already told you, it’s the least I can do for you giving me the pleasure to take such a beautiful girl out to lunch with me.”

“I hope you know I’m paying you back.” I said while reaching into my purse to pull out my wallet.

“Well, what are you doing after this?”

I glanced back up at him, “Well, Kate is going to be gone all night so I’ll just be sitting at home by myself. It does get kind of creepy there at night though…”

A thought popped into my head and I wanted to take advantage of being able to spend more time with him.

“If you wanted, you could come back to the apartment with me. It would make me feel a lot safer with someone else being there. We could hang out on the couch, maybe watch a movie? Only if you’re comfortable! No pressure of course.”

Jesse stared straight into my eyes now. My heart began to pick up pace and my fingertips tingled with anticipation.

“If it gets me more time with you, I’d love nothing more. As long as you’re okay with it.”

Amanda came back to the table and handed Jesse’s card to him. “Thank you guys so much. You both have a great day and come back soon.”

Jesse wrote his signature down on the receipt and I went to stop him before he wrote down an amount on the tip line.

“You paid for lunch, at least let me get the tip.”

“Not a chance.” Jesse responded while going back to finish writing out the tip amount on the receipt.

“You’re a stubborn one, Jesse.” I said with a smirk on my face.

“You know, that’s not the first time someone has told me that. You can make it up to me with a promise of more orange scones to come.” He responded back with a wink.

Jesse then pushed up off the table with both hands standing up out of the booth and took a step to stand directly in front of where I was sitting.

He then put his hand out, “You ready to get outta here?”

I reached for his hand and he helped me up out of the booth. “Thank you, Jesse.” His hand was softer this time but as warm as ever.

My hand fit perfectly inside of his, like it was meant to be there. When he closed his hand to wrap around the front of mine I let out a shaky breath. The only thing I could think about was how bad I didn’t want to let go.

We walked through the restaurant hand in hand and towards the front door. Making our way back out into the parking lot.

Jesse kept his hand in mine all the way back to his car before making sure to open the passenger side door once again for me.

I climbed inside of the car and Jesse made his way back over into the driver's side seat. “So, back to your place?” He asked before putting my address back into the GPS and clicking go.

#jesse cash #ghost atlas #jesse cash fic #jesse cash fanfiction #jesse cash x reader #tomato red

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midnight-pluto · 1 year ago

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COFFEE: PG.07 — Red Robin (yum~)

COFFEE: Tim Drake x gn!reader

SYNOPSIS: Tim meets a barista that gives him what he needed most — a large coffee with way to many shots of espresso. Though what happens when just a single action changes the other's life, forever?

coffee master list || prev. || next || SPECIAL!!

MONDAY, APRIL 3 2023 - 11:42 PM

“Hello, do you want a macaron?” you ask Cardinal Red Robin.

“How’d you know?”

“Because I saw your reply to our announcement on Twitter?”

“Are you stalking my account?” The hero quickly shot back, “That’s a bit weird if you ask me.”

“I don’t stalk your account-“

“It’s giving, obsession if you ask me,” the starting to get annoying hero interjects.

“What’s there to be obsessed about?” you retort, “Besides, I’m the one behind the twitter account.”

“That makes sense regarding the tweet about a customer named Herald Sox.”

“Oh no that wasn’t me, that was my ex-coworker.”

“Ex-coworker?”

“They got fired after publicly announcing for some patrons to never come back after they were being rude to staff,” you explain.

“Oh.”

“Anyways, what do you want?”

“Oh right can I have a dozen macarons, with 6 of the me specials and the others being Spoiler Special, and one black coffee with eight shots of espresso,” he replies.

‘How familiar…’

“To go I assume?”

“No to eat in the next 12 minutes until the cafe closes, of course to-go.”

“I will not hesitate to make a hate thread about you,” you deadpan.

“Didn’t you already do that?” the caped crusader questioned, head turned at a 15° angle.

“No that was me being polite,” you sigh, “$17.78 is your price.”

After he swiped his card you immediately started to get to work on his sad espresso.

“Yo losers where you at?” Cardinal Red Robin asked over comms, “I have your food.”

“Me and Orphan are by Hood’s favorite gargoyle,” Spoiler spoke.

“Her name is Heather, for your information.”

“Aw what the fuck! I’m on the other side of the city,” Nightwing complained.

“Sounds like a skill issue to me,” Spoiler teased.

“Fuck off.”

“Me and Robin will be there in a minute,” a deep voice interjects.

“Loser has to do the splits by the way!”

“Oh hell nah I ain’t doin that shit nuh-uh no way,” Hood said accompanied by the sound of hurried footsteps and wind.

“Yeah, ah-ha see, I ain’t tryin’ to get made fun of on Twitter again so glad your taking the downfall B!”

“What?”

“Father, you can’t do the splits?”

“…”

“Mother really over exaggerated your abilities,” Robin clicked his tongue.

“I used to-“

“The keyword being: ‘used to.’ I can do the splits.”

“No shit dickhead, you’re literally an acrobat,” Hood retorts, “And… I’m back together with Heather.”

“You have an ex named Heather?” Spoiler questioned.

“No the gargoyle dumbass, get with the program.”

“Oh.”

One by one, members of the family arrived with Nightwing ( predictably) being the last to come.

“Alrighty dump truck, do the splits!” Hood exclaimed, pointing at the blue clad hero like in that one objection meme.

“Do it! No balls!” Spoiler challenged.

Doing a few stretches before hand - leading to some delicious cracking noises emitting from his body - he finally dropped down and did the splits.

“Woohoo!”

“Alrighty food time!” Nightwing cheered, getting up from his splitting position.

“Finally, y’all took to long,” Red Robin said with a yawn.

“You should’ve taken a nap,” Hood teased.

“Yeah I was seriously considering it,” he replies, taking a bite out of a Red Robin macaron, humming in delight.

‘I should visit there more often.’

TAGLIST: @grandstrangerphantom @marsbars09 @fabitheraven @lovelypitasworld @dyjcksn [ if you would like to join, feel free to send me an ask or to comment! ]

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daintyshu · 8 months ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐈𝐌𝐄

ix. hee knows (0.72k written)

heeseung watches as his friends walk through the crowded streets of hongdae. despite having been made to pay for their group of five, he was having a good time. it had been a while since he went out with his friends.

even though they live together, the three college boys had been busy studying for their exams and so was his fellow college graduate friend who was tutoring them. most days he would be at home alone, gaming or doing whatever he deemed interesting that day (he should really get a job).

both jake and heeseung just recently graduated and had decided to take a gap year before deciding what to do with their lives. jake's has been eventful so far since jungwon's mother asked him to tutor her son, which then led to him tutoring sunoo and riki as well.

heeseung, on the other hand, had been out of school and unemployed for the past 3 months. he deserved the rest but at the same time it was getting too boring for him. which is why he initially thought of applying at odd atelier after hearing all his friends rave about it —about the insanely pretty girl that works there— all day and night.

he should've figured it out, really. jung yn and park jay had always been attached at the hip since little so of course the jay and yn that works at odd atelier was the one he knew from high school.

"hey, guys! we should go have dessert at odd atelier!" speaking of the devil, really.

heeseung turns to the voice that broke his daydreaming. jungwon had on a bright dimpled smile as he turns to look at his friends for approval.

"i'm down,"

"yeah, sure,"

"yay let's go see noona!"

"you guys go ahead, i've g–" he pauses mid sentence, staring at his friends who collectively gave him looks as if he was crazy. "hyung, weren't you the one who badly wanted to go to the cafe? to see the pretty barista?" sunoo questions.

"i never said it was to see her, all i said was i was feeling left out cause all of you were there," he shrugs, as if unbothered. "hyung, you have to go see her. like i've never seen a real life person as pretty as her," jungwon urges, shaking his shoulders. "yeah, hyung. super pretty," riki nods in agreement.

trust me, he knows. (hee knows 🤣)

"i'm good, guys. think i'm just gonna head home and play some games," he tells them, ready to walk away when jake grabs his arm.

"nope, we live together so we're gonna go home together. and we haven't had good quality time together all five of us so you're coming along. i don't care if it's willingly or we're gonna have to drag you there," it seems jake's words were final since he was already dragging along the older while the other three followed close behind.

heeseung sighs, hoping neither you nor jay were on shift today.

it seems that luck is never on heeseung's side as their group of five enters the fairly empty cafe. he nervously hangs around the back of the group, hoping you don't see him as you and your supposed guard dog were conversing animatedly with riki.

riki turns to see if there were people behind them wanting to order and when he sees no one, he decides to introduce all of his friends to you and donghyuck.

"hyung, noona, these are my friends! guys introduce yourselves," riki tells them and they do one by one.

"hi! i'm sunoo!" he shows off his pretty eye smile which you couldn't help but melt over. the next one introduces himself as jungwon and you think he has the cutest dimples ever. the one named jake goes next and you have to nudge donghyuck on his side so he doesn't bark at the poor boy again.

heeseung wants the ground to open up and swallow him whole when the pantry door opens and out walks your best friend, your ride-or-die, your soulmate since birth.

"ynie, lisa noona wants to know if yo—lee heeseung?" his words get cut short when his eyes fall upon the boy trying to poorly hide himself behind his friends. your eyes widen as you turn to where jay was looking.

"heeseung?"

prev | m.list | next

synopsis. in which you work at odd atelier cafe and can only make hearts in your lattes, causing a certain boy to misunderstand your intentions..... then he brings his friends and chaos ensues.

author's note. ignore the timestamp on the tweet im too lazy to change it 😭

taglist (open): @semisemirin1i82 @txtmetonight @ilyjxdz @miniature-tragedy @n1k1mura @t00miee @manooffline @aerivrs @saranghaohoshi @woninluv

#enha smau #enha x reader #enha x reader smau #enhypen smau #enhypen social media au #enhypen texts #enhypen x reader #enhypen x reader smau #enhypen #enha

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sapphicromanoffxo · 1 year ago

Note

hiiii, just saw you started to write and i really liked your first wandanat headcanon so what do you think of sugar mommy!nat X sugar baby!wanda? 👀

Aaahhh I screamed with I got this request because I loveeee sugar mommy Nat so much. I also got carried away on this one and this might be a multi chapter fic. Let me know your thoughts! 🤭🫡

Lucky Ones | i. Chance meeting

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Wanda Maximoff

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: specified legal age gap, Nat is 35 while Wanda is 21 (nothing much as of yet? 🤭)

Rewritten 03/19/2024

»»-----------► Series Masterlist

In recent weeks, college life has been hectic, but a welcome break has arrived in the form of Engineering convention week. This week-long event offers students a break from their regular studies, providing a platform to delve deeper into their field through different seminars and workshops. Beyond the confines of classroom theory, students seize the opportunity to expand their knowledge and get the chance to interact with other students as well. Amidst the event, quirky competitions like the pasta stick bridge-making challenge add a dose of excitement, prompting a laughter among participants as they witnessed their own creation fail.

Among the throng of students revelling in this educational event is Wanda, a sophomore in the civil engineering department. She was one of the fortunate students who had been granted a scholarship, though it was never easy to be one of the scholars since she took multiple tests in order to be included on the list. The delight and relief that she felt when she received an email regarding the scholarship was a weight off her shoulders since she would work as a barista in a cafe and would tutor kids for extra income, just enough to sustain her basic necessities.

At the end of the event, a lecture will be held and the chosen speaker was a well respected and sought-after engineer. Natasha Romanoff, CEO of a big construction firm that is very well-known and popular in the engineering industry.

Wanda was so excited to attend the lecture since the woman was the engineer who had provided a scholarship program to the students who are in need of one. She's also hoping to meet Natasha and give her thanks in person.

Wanda found the lecture highly informative and was thoroughly impressed by Natasha's presentation skills. Natasha adeptly explained technical concepts in structural engineering, providing practical examples to illustrate theories.

"I'm grateful for the invitation to speak today, and it's heartening to see so many people sharing my passion for this field. Best of luck with your educational endeavours."

A round of applause rang out throughout the room as they praised Natasha for her wonderful lecture. Wanda was disappointed when it concluded after two hours, wishing it could have been longer to absorb more insights from Natasha.

As Natasha stepped down from the elevated platform, Wanda stood and walked to the side of the room to greet her. Her hands grew clammy with nerves at the prospect of meeting Natasha, so she wiped them on the side of her pants before approaching.

"Um, hi, Miss Natasha. I'm Wanda," she stammered, her nerves evident in her shaky voice. "I just wanted to introduce myself since I'm one of the recipients of your scholarship offerings."

Wanda's words tumbled out in a rush until she finally came face to face with Natasha. Oh, the woman was stunning. Her emerald green eyes shimmered under the lights, her face adorned with a delicate layer of makeup, and a lop-sided smile gracing her lips. It sent a flurry of butterflies fluttering in Wanda's stomach, causing her to trail off momentarily in awe.

"Hello, Wanda. I do recall your name from the list of potential grantees," Natasha greeted warmly, extending her hand. Wanda eagerly clasped it for a handshake.

"I wanted to personally thank you for the opportunity to study at this prestigious university," Wanda expressed her gratitude sincerely to the woman before her.

"You are most welcome, dear. I hope you enjoy your time here and make the most of your learning experience. I'm eager to see what the future holds for you," Natasha replied graciously, her voice laden with warmth at the same time with power. Without hesitation, she offered her personal calling card to Wanda and added that she can call her if she needed help.

After several days of their initial meeting, during which Wanda found herself repeatedly glancing at the card Natasha had given her, she finally summoned the courage to send a message to the other woman. Despite the initial nerves, both Wanda and Natasha quickly agreed to stay in touch, eager to get to know one another.

Natasha's curiosity about Wanda was obvious, as she frequently inquired about her life and interests. Wanda, accustomed to solitude with few friends to confide in, soaked up Natasha's interest with open arms, grateful for the opportunity to share even the simplest details about herself. She would find herself daydreaming about the woman and would always think about the fiery eyes that once looked at her.

Wanda had revealed that she works at a cafe near the university and Natasha began visiting Wanda, initially keeping things friendly and casual. However after a few days of exchanging messages, Natasha's intentions became clear as she expressed her desire for Wanda to work for her, albeit with certain conditions.

Natasha offered to alleviate Wanda's financial burdens, but in return, Wanda would be at Natasha's beck and call. Intrigued by the prospect and Natasha's wealth and beauty, Wanda accepted the proposition, gladly.

Their relationship started slowly, with Natasha's first demand being that Wanda quit her job to focus solely on fulfilling her needs and wants.

After a while, Natasha provided Wanda with a credit card with no spending limit, encouraging her to make purchases that pleased her. This newfound financial freedom was overwhelming for Wanda, who had grown up in an average family and struggled to comprehend the costs of clothing she's been buying, which often equaled her rent expenses.

Natasha didn't rush into inviting Wanda to live with her, understanding that the young woman was still in the process of adjusting to her new environment. Instead, Natasha took a more gradual approach, fostering a close working relationship with Wanda. She even offered Wanda a temporary position, since she is still a college student, within her company to further develop her skills, a gesture that reflected Natasha's genuine interest in helping her grow.

Their daily interactions were filled with stolen kisses, though their affection was only limited to innocent touches and loving gazes. They both understood the need to keep their relationship discreet. After all, Wanda was still a student, just 21 years old, while Natasha, at 35, had already established herself in the industry. Despite the significant age gap, Wanda embraced the dynamic and, in fact, preferred older women, anyways.

While their relationship continued to progress, Wanda occasionally found it frustrating to witness the persistent attention men directed toward Natasha. These men were driven by either a desire to win her affection or to secure business partnerships. Wanda, in these moments, had a front-row seat to all the effort and charm these individuals put into their attempts to impress Natasha.

However, Wanda couldn't help but be captivated by Natasha's commanding presence. Natasha's innate dominance seemed to effortlessly exude from her, especially when she was fully immersed in her professional space. For Wanda, this aspect of Natasha's personality was not only alluring but also a source of pride.

As the months passed and their connection deepened, Natasha decided to invite Wanda to move in with her, a proposition that Wanda enthusiastically accepted without a moment's hesitation.

When Wanda moved in with Natasha, it was a big step forward in their relationship. Natasha was determined to make Wanda feel truly involved and committed to carefully planning how to keep their relationship strong and growing. Natasha laid out her honest and thrilling intentions to Wanda.

"From this day forward, you belong to me, as I belong to you. I am committed to fulfilling your needs, desires, and wishes. In return, I do hope that you will obey and respect my demands, as long as you're comfortable with them."

Upon hearing Natasha's confession, a shiver ran down Wanda's spine. It was the moment she had been both anticipating and fearing. She couldn't resist the pull of her emotions, surrendering her inhibitions willingly to the woman who had consumed her thoughts, day and night.

In return for her commitment, Natasha offered Wanda more than she had ever dared to dream of – a stable home and financial security. These were luxuries that had seemed out of reach, especially considering her past. However, this newfound comfort came with a significant price tag: her freedom. The demands of Natasha's commitment meant that Wanda would have limited independence. Yet, in Wanda's eyes, this trade-off was more than acceptable. The burden of financial worries was lifted from her shoulders, allowing her to focus entirely on her academic pursuits.

"You, Natasha Romanoff, a woman who took me by surprise. To this very moment, I find myself wondering what it was about me that captivated you so dearly. You went through the lengths just to get me close to you. Even if you don't have all this luxury and wealth, I think, I would still be into you."

"Well, it's all because of your good looks and enchanting mind, I can help but to be intrigued. It also didn't help that you look like you are begging for someone to put you in check and tell you what to do. Tell me I'm wrong, detka," Natasha says with much confidence, while looking the young woman right in the eye.

"It all became clear that I do want to be controlled by someone and you are the only person in this world that I would trust to do that."

Natasha smirks at Wanda's admission.

Everything that she planned is falling into place.

#natasha x wanda #wanda maximoff #natasha romanoff #wandanat #wandanat fanfiction #wlw #marvel #black widow #scarlet witch

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czenzo · 8 months ago

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Missed Call

[ao3] Skullyle Internet Friends Series: [1 – Pretty Boy] [2 – Missed Call]

summary:

[00:13] Missed call from Skull Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning. “Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. “No, nothing like that," she said. "He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.” “And this is bothering you because…?” Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.” One missed call sends Lucy spiralling. She begins to question her feelings towards her strange, snarky online friend.

words: 3,440 rating: T

notes: to all the lovely people in the comments for Pretty Boy who said they’d read more, this is for you!

edit: @vryfmi made some absolutely STUNNING artwork of a few scenes from this fic, and @edmeom's art of barista lucy and holly is GORGEOUS – please go check them out and give them loads of love!! vry and galri I owe you my LIFE you're amazing

[00:13] Missed call from Skull

Lucy frowned at her phone for the hundredth time that morning.

“Has he said something horribly controversial again?” Holly said over her shoulder. Lucy jumped so intensely she almost pulled a muscle; it was easy to forget how quiet her coworker could be when she wanted to.

“No, nothing like that,” she replied after her heart rate steadied. “He, er— he called me. Or, tried to. It was just gone midnight, I was asleep.”

“And this is bothering you because…?”

Lucy finally looked up from her phone. “We’ve never spoken over the phone before.”

“Ever? You’ve known each other a while though, right?”

“About half a year.”

“And you talk every day?”

“Near enough.”

Now it was Holly’s turn to frown. “And you’ve… never called? Never heard each other’s voices?”

“No.”

“Not even sent a silly voice note here and there?”

Lucy shrugged. “I’m not a voice note kind of person.”

A long, slow nod was her only response, which was more unnerving than Lucy would’ve liked to admit. “Is it weird? That we only ever text?”

Holly made a vague gesture. “If I were in your shoes, I’d think it a little odd, but—”

“Can I get some service, or is this establishment closed for gossip hour?”

Lucy’s head whipped around to find a customer waiting at the till, red irritation blooming high on his cheeks. She bit back an instinctive snarky response.

Luckily Holly had a knack for dealing with difficult customers, and rushed over to serve him with a beaming smile. “Of course! I can’t apologise enough for being distracted. What can I get for you?”

Lucy decided she was in dire need of a break. She set a timer, threw together a cup of tea and drifted off into the break room, finding comfort in the battered settee with with so many cracks and tears the original leather was barely visible.

She drew her phone out of her apron pocket. The missed call notification still sat there, taunting her for not knowing how to reply. Skull himself hadn’t said anything, either, which was incredibly unusual for him. It was bobbing on three p.m.; normally by now he would have sent at least two obscure memes, three colourful insults, and one post from their shared paranormal forum with added commentary on how stupid OP was. Instead, she hadn’t heard a peep from him.

‘Unusual’ was a massive understatement.

Her teeth worried the skin of her lips. What if something serious had happened, and she was too hung up on a silly missed call to check up on him? What if she’d done something to severely piss him off, and the missed call was his last attempt to hash it out?

Or—the most likely scenario—what if he clicked the call button without realising, and she was making a huge deal over something hilariously insignificant?

She took a swig of her scalding tea, let her head fall back to stare at the ceiling for a long, excruciating moment of contemplation, then eventually opened their chat.

The cursor blinked. Lucy steeled her nerves and reminded herself that she was being a complete tit.

[Joan] did you mean to call me?

There! Message sent; she was officially no longer a cowardly over-thinker. She relaxed and sunk further into the chair, but stiffened as soon as she saw that Skull was typing. Okay, scratch that—she was definitely still a cowardly over-thinker.

[Skull] yea we need 2 talk

Shit.

It took an embarrassing amount of time to type her response.

[Joan] shit, is everything alright? [Skull] no its p serious [Skull] thought it wldv been easier 2 talk abt it over the phone [Skull] but ur probs at work rn so ill just text it [Skull] hold on

Lucy straightened and waited with bated breath, tea all but forgotten about. In the time Skull took to type, Lucy involuntarily went through all of her worst-case scenarios one more time, and suddenly felt the need for a drink much stronger than tea. Christ—why was this bothering her so much?

[Skull] ive been diagnosed with [Skull] huge dick syndrome [Skull] its fatal. im so sorry

Lucy slowly placed her phone on the settee, counteracting the urge to lob it directly at the nearest wall. She gave herself a moment to breathe—in through the nose, out through the mouth, just like Holly taught her to do when a customer really got on her nerves—before cautiously picking it back up again.

[Joan] you’re a fucking menace [Joan] don’t pull that kind of thing again. [Skull] HAHAHAHAHAHA [Skull] dont lie joanie. i got you GOOD [Joan] I knew you could be a proper knob sometimes but I didn’t think it was this bad [Skull] clearly u gotta get 2 know me better [Skull] in all honesty tho i didnt mean to call u [Skull] the call button is right next 2 the block button [Skull] an idiotic design choice if i ever saw one [Joan] you ought to send the developers a strongly worded email [Skull] who the fuck says ought in a casual conversation [Joan] it’s a perfectly normal thing to say?? [Skull] yea if ur from the middle ages [Joan] ok shut up we’re not changing the topic [Joan] if you didn’t mean to call me, why did you go radio silent? [Joan] surely the normal thing to do would’ve been to say “Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you” [Skull] Oops, my bad, didn’t mean to call you [Joan] dick [Skull] huge one, yeah [Skull] its a serious condition [Joan] 🖕 [Skull] i didnt even realise id butt dialed you lmao [Skull] fell asleep right after. woke up like 10 mins ago [Skull] im a different creature past midnight [Skull] unaware of and unliable for my actions [Joan] good luck getting that to hold up in court [Skull] id charm my way into acquittal [Skull] all the lady judges would love me [Skull] actually so wld the non lady judges [Skull] im just that irresistible [Joan] more like irritating :/ [Joan] they’d declare you guilty so they never have to see your ugly mug again [Skull] u have no proof i have an ugly mug [Skull] for all u know i cld b on magazine covers [Skull] flexing. smouldering. [Skull] rock hard jawline [Skull] rock hard abs [Skull] rock hard thighs [Joan] I’m stopping that list right there [Skull] buzzkill. [Skull] i bet your manager keeps u in the back so ur face doesnt scare off the poor customers [Joan] I’m practically the face of the company [Joan] everyone loves me [Skull] this is some next level delusion [Skull] does ‘everyone’ include Pretty Boy [Joan] this is some next level obsession [Skull] im not obsessed with him [Skull] im far superior than him anyway [Skull] if he saw me in the street hed drop dead [Skull] out of pure shock [Skull] from seeing my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] STOP [Skull] my sexy voice alone could crush his ego [Joan] I wasn’t aware voice cracks and nervous trembling could do that [Skull] kiss my arse joan [Skull] you have no idea what i sound like [Joan] and same vice versa

Lucy’s eyes narrowed. She had an opening here—should she take it? She took a sip of her tea, now disgustingly lukewarm, and decided to go for it.

[Joan] is it weird, that we talk so regularly but only ever over text? [Skull] cant say its ever crossed my mind [Skull] why wld that b weird [Joan] I don’t know [Joan] it’s just something a coworker mentioned [Skull] so THAT’S why the missed call got under ur skin [Skull] ur so painfully transparent [Joan] no I’m not? [Skull] denial is not a good look on u [Skull] if it bothers u so much we can just call [Skull] like any normal fucking ppl wld do [Joan] I suppose [Skull] its not a big deal [Skull] unless u swoon so hard at my voice u get a concussion or smth [Skull] which is highly likely [Skull] considering ur delicate disposition [Joan] wtf is that supposed to mean [Skull] last time Pretty Boy called u by ur name u almost dropped ur phone in coffee [Joan] in hindsight [Joan] mentioning that to you was a mistake [Skull] it wasnt [Skull] its a great addition to my joan blackmail bank [Joan] har bloody har [Joan] you’re a comedic genius [Skull] oh em gee its so nice 2 see my talent finally b acknowledged

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Her break was up. Startled that the time had flown by so quickly, she checked the clock on the wall, only to find she was indeed due back on the shop floor.

On the bright side, she no longer had to worry about the possibility of Skull being a) dead, or b) eternally pissed off at her. Instead, her mind focused on the very real chance that she’d be talking to him on the phone in the near future.

Lucy was by no means completely inept; she could handle a phone call when it was necessary. However, phoning her old insurance provider to get them to remove her from their annoying mailing list and calling a close (could she consider them close when she knew so little about him?) friend acquaintance for the first time were very, very different things.

A hot burst of air greeted her as she emerged from the back and settled behind the counter. She’d been a barista at this cafe for so long everything was muscle memory. It was a mostly handy skill, until someone once switched the syrups around and she almost handed a hazelnut latte to someone with a severe nut allergy. Besides that, and… her tendency to text on the job… she swore she was a virtue to the company.

“Got a clearer head now?” Holly said over the sound of milk being steamed.

“Yeah. I brought it up, and now we might actually end up calling.”

“Ooh, how exciting!” Holly beamed, then added quietly, “Unless he turns out to be a creep, that is.”

Lucy took moment too long to reply. “I’m sure he isn’t.”

“…Yeah!” Was Holly’s response, full of fake optimism that was far from convincing.

A third voice—one Lucy was becoming more familiar with these days—came from the other side of the counter. “Who might turn out to be a creep?”

Lucy rushed to meet Lockwood at the till. Even on a Saturday, he was still dressed smartly. “Oh, no one. Just— er, a friend of mine.”

“They only ever text! He could be anyone,” Holly stage-whispered to him.

Lucy gently batted her out of the way. “You don’t need to spill my private life to customers, thank you.”

“But he’s our best regular.”

Lockwood beamed. “Glad to hear it.”

She playfully rolled her eyes and tapped the till screen out of standby. “Your usual?”

“No, actually,” he said, sounding ridiculously pleased with himself over something so trivial. “I’d like to try that new gingerbread latte, please.”

“A sucker for a Christmas special, are we?”

He shrugged. “Who can’t resist a bit of seasonal marketing? I’ll also have a slice of lemon drizzle too, if you’ll allow it.”

A huff of laughter escaped her. “Wow, you’re really branching out today.”

He gave her another one of his toothy grins. As he paid, he quirked a curious eyebrow. “What’s this about a maybe-creep you only ever text, then?”

“Oh, I can’t believe Holly told you about that.” Actually, she could—over the past month or so, Lockwood’s visits had become less by-the-script, and the two of them had learnt more about him than they ever expected to. Of course, it was a two way street, and as a result Lockwood gained a firm grasp on Lucy’s sarcasm, weakness for confident smiles, and now her friendship with a random guy on the internet.

She’d managed to avoid mentioning Skull to him, up until now. She was surprised the secrecy had lasted this long, though she was unsure why she’d been so keen to keep quiet about him.

“We met online,” she said slowly. Thankfully, putting Lockwood’s order together kept her hands busy and her brain occupied, which meant she had less energy to overthink how she’d explain her situation. “Met through a shared interest. We were— er, well, honestly we argued a lot, at first. I’m not sure how it turned into a friendship, but it did, and now we talk pretty regularly.”

“Every day,” Holly added.

“For…?”

Lucy shrunk in on herself slightly. “…Six months? Ish?”

Lockwood whistled, long and slow. “That’s quite a bit of time.”

“Exactly!”

“Holly, shut up,” Lucy said with very little venom. “We’re going to call. We’re going to talk. It’s not an issue.”

He leaned on the counter, watching her dust ginger onto his drink. “Right now?”

“What? No, not right now. That’d be mad.”

“Could be interesting.”

She slid the drink and plate over to him. “Don’t be nosey.”

“It’s in my nature, Luce.” He winked, taking a sip of his drink. “Gossip at heart.”

Lucy’s stomach did a funny flip. She playfully waved him off under the pretence she was in a rush to serve the next waiting customer, and was harshly reminded she forgot to put her phone on silent when her pocket was met with a barrage of vibrations.

As the atmosphere lulled once all customers had been served and seated, she returned to her chat with Skull. Most of it was pure gibberish, a poor attempt at grabbing her attention again by way of spam.

[Skull] did u fucking die??? [Joan] when will you get it into your thick skull that I have timed breaks [Joan] and once said timed breaks are over [Joan] I go back to work [Skull] yet here u r, still txting on the job [Skull] what a rebel u are, joanie [Skull] its cute u spend ur entire allocated free time talking 2 me [Skull] clearly u have ur priorities straight [Joan] if that were true I’d have blocked you ages ago [Skull] oh no, my ego [Skull] has PB swung round yet today [Joan] he just did [Skull] and? [Skull] come on. give me the details [Skull] don’t deprive me of the gossip [Joan] nothing really happened [Joan] he changed his order up [Joan] asked about you [Skull] he fucking what [Joan] my chatty coworker told him :/ [Joan] and he got curious [Skull] did u tell him abt my rock hard jawline, [Skull] rock hard abs, [Joan] stfu that wasn’t even funny the first time [Skull] lies + slander [Skull] what did u tell him [Joan] I didn’t expect you to care so much about what he thinks [Skull] i dont. [Skull] im looking for openings to bully him [Joan] I just told him how we ‘met’ [Skull] is that it?? [Skull] thats so fucking boring [Joan] I mean [Joan] we also briefly spoke about the whole Only Texting situation [Skull] christ. what did he say to that [Joan] he thought I was going to call you right there and then [Joan] on the shop floor [Skull] is he stupid [Joan] hypocrite [Skull] my intellect is vast and varied tyvm [Skull] y is everyone obsessed with the calling thing [Skull] whys it such a big deal

Lucy glanced at her phone sidelong as she wiped down the counters. Why was it such a big deal?

She dwelled on it for a moment or two, but was cut short at the sight of the whole screen lighting up with Incoming call: Skull.

At first, she simply stared. Pressing the red decline button would mean everything stayed as it was—no awkward first phone call, no pressure to make their casual, stupid online friendship something more meaningful, no caving to the expectations of the more socially well-adjusted people around her. But pressing the green pick up button would mean… well, it would mean talking to Skull. Like actual friends. What would they even talk about?

Curiosity gnawed away at her.

Lucy pressed the green button.

“You were staring at your phone wondering if you should pick up, weren’t you?”

She wasn’t sure what she expected Skull to sound like, but it wasn’t quite this. He didn’t sound significantly older or younger, though his voice had a slight rasp to it, and she could hear his smile—knowing him, it was more likely to be a smirk—through his words. It was unfamiliar, yet so undeniably Skull that she couldn’t help but smile a bit herself.

“No. I told you, I’m at work. Busy day.”

“Busy enough that you picked up the phone in the middle of your shift?”

She rolled her eyes fondly and signalled to Holly she’d be back in five minutes—emergency, she mouthed, gesturing to the phone at her ear—and Holly gave her a knowing look in return.

London’s wintery chill nipped at her skin as soon as she stepped outside, but the fresh air was nothing short of lovely.

She squinted up at the sky; grey clouds loomed overhead. “Why now? Why not call later?”

“Got sick of you awkwardly bringing it up over text,” he said, then added: “Wanted to see if you’d pick up.”

“Well, here I am. I picked up. Now what?”

A short pause. “You were the one that was so bothered by it all.”

“I wasn’t that bothered.”

“Er, yeah you fucking were. So, my voice: what’s the verdict? Are you swooning?”

She gave a harsh huff of laughter. “You bloody wish.”

“I can hear you moved outside. Needed some fresh air to cool your blush?”

“Shut up? You’re not funny. Besides, my voice is miles better. I bet you almost tripped over your own feet when I first spoke.”

“I’m nothing but elegant and graceful,” he said, playfully indignant, “even when faced with a really annoying, nasally voice.”

“Charming.”

A beat, then: “I didn’t know you were northern.”

A small, ugly snort escaped her as she contemplated this. At the beginning of their acquaintanceship they’d stuck to an unspoken rule of avoiding delving into their personal lives, but as time passed and they became more comfortable with brutally bullying each other under the guise of friendship, details had come out here and there. They were both English. She worked at a cafe. His go-to drink order was an espresso martini (I’d had you down as a guinness kind of guy, Lucy had said, to which he responded thats the worst fucking insult). The drops of info were random and sporadic, and ended up so Lucy knew Skull had a really stupid tattoo on his left arse cheek, but he didn’t know she was northern—and this, in her opinion, was downright hilarious.

“You do now,” she said. “Look, I really can’t talk for long. I already spend way too much of my shift on my phone.”

“This was an emergency,” Skull said dryly, “you had to succumb to social pressures and modern friendship conventions.”

Lucy huffed in disbelief. “Friendship?”

“Slip of the tongue. I meant rivalry.”

“Of course you did. Denial is not a good look— er, sound, on you.”

He scoffed playfully. “Don’t throw my own words back at me. It’s not my fault you’re desperate for my attention and companionship.”

“And it isn’t my fault you’re projecting.”

“Ooh, you’re pushing it,” he said, and Lucy really could hear his smile. “I could just hang up right now and never contact you again.”

She sighed wistfully. “That would truly be the dream.”

“A nightmare for you, more like. You couldn’t survive without m—”

Lucy took great satisfaction in hanging up on him, and waltzed back into the shop with a lazy smile on her face. To her surprise, it wasn’t Holly whose eye she caught first upon her return, but Lockwood’s. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before flashing a grin—it was his split-second of hesitation that made Lucy wonder if he’d been watching her call Skull through the window.

“So,” Holly drawled, leaning in close as Lucy returned behind the counter, “how was the emergency?”

“Awful. Three wounded, one fatality.”

Holly’s teasing smile froze; it was clear she still hadn’t fully accustomed to Lucy’s sense of humour.

“It was fine. It’s nice to just have that over and done with. Now I can stop thinking about it.”

“What was he like?”

“Exactly how he is over text— no, wait, his ego was actually more inflated. He’s a bit insufferable.”

“The smile on your face counteracts your words, Luce.” Holly playfully nudged her before diverting her attention to a waiting customer, and together they fell back into their routine. After the line had gone back down, she stole a glance at her phone, and held back a snort at the notifications waiting for her.

[Skull] how DARE you. how fucking dare you [Skull] next time we call I’m getting my revenge

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co fic #lucy carlyle #the skull #skullyle #czenzo.fic #skullyle internet friends

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