#i hope you have room for a coffeeshop au

[emry-stars-art]

I would buy like five million shark Andrew and jelly Neil plushies so I could place them on my bed and sit in the middle and just admire them

THEY ARE SO CUTE <33

No joke I want my room to become a shrine of your aus. Royal corner here, mer au corner there, stay where I can reach andreil over there, some free space for new ideas and my bed in the middle lmao

(PS I love Andrew “head bonking like a cat because I am a cat” Minyard. I definitely consider it his love language (both romantically and platonically. Just bonking everyone at that point. Why? Why not :D))

I literally have been considering learning how to sew/make plushies for the EXPRESS purpose of baby shark plushies you have No Idea 😂 I don't have the funds to start a new hobby at the moment unfortunately, but it seems like so much fun

BUT THANK YOU SO MUCH I just held onto this ask bc I wanted to keep reading it 🥹 it does mean so much that people like the aus lol they're so much fun and so special to me and I LOVE that you love them!!

[luvkuvi]

"anything else ?" "your number..." !

In where auntie nahida finds a cute barasita and tries to play matchmaker.

Gn! reader, coffeeshop au, supportive auntie nahida finding her nephew a partner

Imagine Nahida trying to try the cafes around the area she had her nephew Scaramouche over for the summer so he can have a fun summer but he doesn't seem interested in going out and locks himself in his room where he plays video games despite Nahida wanting him to go out with her once and awhile.

So today she decided to find some spots where she thinks scara might be interested. "Cafés are popular among scara and his peers," she thought that's why she sought out nearby cafes and most of them were okay but she knew her nephew(more than his mother) and those cafés don't have the thing she was looking for until she entered this cafe and saw you.

As soon as she entered the cafe she saw your smile as you greeted her. "hello! Welcome, to [ insert cafe name], I'm y/n and I can take your order!" The cafe was small and quiet but still had some customers so it's not busy but not empty either. that earns two checks for Nahida's mental checklist. 

"Well, what would you recommend?" You hummed pointing at the menu displayed above you and to the pastries available. "Well if you ask me, I like our [ favorite flavor of cake] and [ favorite type of coffee]" Nahida shifts her eyes to the pastries and the beverage available then something catches her eye. "Are the lattes with foam art available ?" She swore your eyes twinkle when she said that. "mhm!" you ring her up after telling her the price. "Anything else ?" you asked, handing back her change. "nope! that's all." 

Nahida has found the perfect place.

For the next few days, Nahida would come to the cafe every day at the same time she made sure you were working. You two have grown fond of each other chatting as you tell you why you're working etc. 

And after a few visits, Nahida concluded you would like Scaramouche! So yesterday she told you all about Scaramouche 

"Well, my nephew is about 5'4 and about your age! he's a little stubborn but he means good!" you giggle at her description of her nephew "really now? He seems sweet. How about bringing him here one day ?"

And she took your words fast as the next day she brought in a boy around your age with indigo locks, and the most beautiful violet eyes you've ever seen, you cleared your throat as she and the boy headed to the counter and you never thought that her nephew could be this handsome! "Welcome back miss Nahida!" you turned your eyes to the boy who wore black head to toe "And I assume your my loyal customer nephew" you giggled as his cheeks began to glow red as he looked at you again. "yeah..im scara" he muttered avoiding eye contact, you only smiled at him as you asked for their order. Nahida ordered two lattes with foam art, by the looks of it scara wanted to argue but Nahida shushed him with one look. Scara said he'll sit down and as you rang them up Nahida wanted you to add a little of something else to one of the lattes

A few minutes later you head to their table to place their orders. "Hope you enjoy you two!" as you walked away scaras eyes followed you before snapping out of it and then looking at the drink Nahida ordered. "What do you think scara ?" Nahida asked him, smiling at the cute foam art you added. "I told you I don't like sweet–" observing the drink he brought it close to his eyes, seeing his design is a bit different from Nahidas seeing the cat blushing with a heart next to it. He felt himself getting hot again and gave you a glance who wasn't doing anything and caught his gaze and waved at him. Feeling embarrassed he turn his head again looking at Nahida who had a smirk on his face. Looks like he had fallen into whatever plan his aunt had in store for him.

a few moments later with a flushed face and a small(adorable) scowl, Scaramouche approached you

"Oh hey! Do you need anything else ?" you smiled at him. He looked back at Nahida giving him a thumbs up which he groaned and looked back to you and you gave him a puzzled look. "your number…" he mumbled. You blink at him a few times feeling yourself being hot but you asked him to repeat it because you don't trust your ears.  "U-Uhm…repeat that please ?" You felt his purple eyes pierce through you making you gulp, did you make him mad? you thought. "I know you heard me, your number, idiot." your body perks up at his sudden cocky attitude change you stared at him with disbelief and he raised an eyebrow. "what? you asked if I need anything else and what I need right now is your number" Scaramouche didn't know where this surge of confidence came from but it was worth it to see your flustered figure trying to find a paper and pen to write it.

Maybe he will need to visit this place more. 

[gothghostiie]

For your Yellowjackets links. :)

A coffee shop opens up next to his furniture store, so out of curiosity, he goes. He meets the loveliest barista, reader, and can't help but come in every day for the rest of the month. Slowly, Jeff comes to the realization of his feelings for reader, which are only made worse when reader hands him their number. He struggles to juggle his feelings for reader and his wife, which leads him to a drunk night in bed with reader.

would you believe me if i told you I never read nor wrote a coffeeshop au

cw: Jeff is his own warning let's be real, cheating, drunk sex, little bit of manhandling, overstimulation, y/n is used once, gn!reader

He didn't want this to happen, none of it. all he wanted was a coffee. he thought it would be nice to have a coffee shop nearby, in case he forgot his at home or didn't have the time, but now he's cursing himself for ever going there. he's laying awake at night while Shauna is out and about, at her beloved bookclub. and he's here, thinking about you. about the way you move, the way you eyes light up when he flashes you a smile, your sweet voice, your smile - he can't get you out of his head. he's desperate, he wants to forget, he loves Shauna, he married Shauna and yet.. yet here you are. in his head, seeping into his thoughts again and again. his fingers are itching to text you, to call you, knowing damn well he has your number.

he can't, he knows he can't. he shouldn't. he wants to throw his phone across the room, but instead he gets up, grabbing the house keys. he leaves a note on the fridge, telling Shauna he's out with Randy, to not wake up, even telling her he hopes she had a nice time at bookclub. he leaves, walking around, lost. he's trying to forget you, walk until he can leave the thought of you behind somewhere, but it doesn't work. his feet carry him into some bar, he almost automatically sits on one of the chairs, ordering a whiskey. he downs it, making a face; he fucking hates whiskey. but he gets another one. and another one. then some more. enough until he's drunk enough to call you.

you pick up with confusion, he never called or texted before, its a strangers number here; but somehow you feel the need to pick up. "hello?"

"...hey." is all he can force out. he wants to throw up, it might just be the whiskey though.

"Jeff?" you ask, a hint of excitement in your voice, he has to chuckle as he imagines your pretty face light up.

"Yeah. How you doin'?" he's softly muttering smalltalk with you, like its not almost 10pm on a random day and he's calling you, clearly drunk.

"hey, why did you call?" you finally ask, your tone soft and friendly, instead of condescending. he feels like his heart might explode.

"I.." he trails off. why did he call you? because he's an idiot who can't get you out of his head? he can't very well say that. he thinks, but his lips do the job for him. "I need to see you."

silence. it feels like years to him when it's only about 5 seconds.

"you.. need to see me? now?"

"now.. please.." his voice carries a pathetic tone. he's desperate and you know it, just like you know he's drunk. you hesitate, but ultimately decide you can't leave him wherever he is right now.

"where are you? I'll pick you." he feels his heart come up his throat as he murmurs the name of the bar. convienetly close, you think before grabbing your car keys. "stay put, I'll be there in a minute." you drive there, its a 5 minute drive. you're nervous, you want nothing but to see him again. when you park and step out of the car he's already outside, leaning against the wall. you smile. "Hey." is all you can muster, before he almost storms at you.

"y/n.." he mutters while practically throwing himself at you, hands gripping around your hips tightly, as if to make sure you're real. "you.. you're here.."

you blush and chuckle, holding onto him. "yea.." he has to fight the urge to kiss you, so do you. instead you lead him to the car and help him in, then drive to your place. the stairs are a mess to walk up with him, it's filled with giggles and a few almost accidents. but when you make it upstairs and he waits for you to unlock the door, he almost can't contain himself. he wants to push you up against the door, take you right then and there but - all he does is stare at your form. he follows you quietly, dropping on the couch while you get him water. "are you okay?" you ask, he almost chokes as he drinks.

"y-yea. I'm good. I'm good." he coughs, putting the glass aside. "I just... fuck, i needed to see you." the words start spilling out and he can't seem to stop them. "I can't stop thinking about you, you're always on my mind I- I think I might go fucking insane." his voice drops at the end, he leans towards you. the curse makes you flinch, eyes wide as you listen to his ramble.

"jeff, I-"

"please.. jesus christ, I need you. please let me have you. just this once." he slurs his words, reaching out to grab your wrist and pull you closer, you don't resist; not one bit. you couldn't even if you wanted to. now you stand there, staring at him, his confession heavy in the air as you try to make a decision, but the way he looks up at you takes the decision from you. you nod quietly, his eyes light up. "really?" he whispers, standing up, your bodies almost touching.

"yes. really." you confirm with a chuckle, he can barely contain himself. the hand on your wrist pulls you flush against his body, other hand cupping the back of your head as he presses his lips against yours in a sloppy kiss. you can taste the whiskey as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, holding you close so you can't escape - not that you want to - like he's scared you might take off any second. sloppy kisses turn into fully making out like two teenagers, with him on the couch and you halfway in his lap, grabbing the back of the couch behind him for support. his hands wander over your clothes until they find the hem of your shirt, warm fingers snaking under the fabric and grabbing your waist, squeezing the flesh to make sure you're real. a soft gasp escapes you, forehead against his. "j-jeff.." is all you can choke out, voice shaky and desperate. its all he needs.

"fuck.." in a swift motion he forces you onto the couch, hand holding the back of your head so you don't bump it against the hard armrest. the other hand is pinning you down while his lips start to wander over your neck, kisses turning into bites, turning into sucking on your skin, leaving hickeys in his wake. you're shivering, panting underneath him, your hands finally try to hold onto him; but he grabs your wrists and pins them above your head. he's not usually this brave or rough, but he's drunk and he's afraid he might cum in his boxers of you touch him now. your eyes widen, but you don't struggle, rather the opposite. you lean back into the couch and show him he's in control, giving him a nod, a go-ahead. it's all he needs to go on, pinning your wrists with one hand while the other toys with your pants. he refuses any help, he'd rather rip them off if he could. but eventually he manages letting go for a brief second to take off your pantsand underwear in one go, leaving him to see that you need him just as badly.

you blush fiery bright, stammering an apology, but he shakes his head, silencing you with another kiss while one of his hands goes back to pinning your wrists. "shh.. 's okay.." he whispers against your lips. "jus' relax, okay?" you nod a bit, he takes a breath before carefully and slowly pushing a finger into you, wanting to gauge your every reaction as he did. gently easing it in and out as you pant, soon eniugh begging for him to give you more. before you realise it you habe three fingers pushed into your hole, pumping in and out slowly while he kisses your jawline. you're shaking, moaning, almost fucking drooling at the feeling.

"jeff..-" you cut yourself off with a moan. "jeff, please.. just fuck me.." you beg quietly, face flushed in embarrassment. he stops in his tracks for a moment, having to make sure he didn't mishear you there; before grinning. he pulls his fingers out and lets go of your wrists, fiddling with his own pants as you needily tug his shirt upwards. he glances at you and gives you a toothy grin, shaking his head.

"y'want me to take it off?" he murmurs, what a stupid question, you think to yourself.

"please.." you whisper, he follows your wish, his shirt flying across the room and landing in a plant. his fingers go back to his belt, finally managing to open his pants and pulling them down with his boxers, just enough for his cock to spring free. your eyes widen a little, he's a bit bigger than you thought; your hole already clenches around nothing. he's with one knee on the couch, the other foot standing on the floor as he slowly strokes himself to the sight of you, sprawled out underneath him.

"you good to go?" he asks gently, rubbing your thigh soothingly as you give him a firm nod. he grins at you again, his canines peeking out as he leans in, hands hooking under your knees and holding them slightly towards your body, tip pressing against your hole and slowly pushing inside you. you gasp loudly, arching your back as your fingers dig into the couch, only when he bottoms out he breathes again. both of you hold still for a moment, savouring the feeling of each other before he smirks a bit and slowly starts thrusting. almost all the way out, just to push himself fully back in. slowly at first, the pace driving you insane - but it's almost worse when he finally does speed up. he grins, biting his lip as he hears the noises falling from your lips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your legs as he keeps going. you're pinned under him as he ruts into you, own hand coming down to play with yourself, chasing your own high. he chuckles at the sight, his grip tightening. "so needy.." the words make you blush in embarrassment, making you pull your hand - just for him to stop you. he quickly snakes his hand from under your knee, pushing your hand back in place. "don't stop.. you look so pretty when you touch yourself like that.." he croons, hand gently leading yours before letting go. his hand finds home on your hip now, thumb rubbing your skin soothingly as his thrusts get sloppier, dripping precum inside you while you clench around him.

"Jeff.." you choke out, followed by a desperate whimper. "I'm so close.. please.. don't stop.." you beg, he chuckles. he holds your hip tighter, keeping up his pace as he fucks you to your orgasm, having to restrain himself from cumming as you fall apart underneath him, moaning amd squirming as he thrusts relentlessly. he doesn't give you a chance to calm down when your high is over, oh no. he leans down closely, burying his face in your neck as his thrusts become erratic, filthy moans falling from his and your lips alike as he chases his own high. your shaky hands grip his shoulders, overstimulation hitting you as tears prick at your eyes. you quietly beg him to cum, not like he needs much convincing. mere moments later he finally pulls out, hand around his cock, trying to mimick the feeling of being inside you and failing miserably; but its enough for him to cum betweem the two of you, covering both your bellies with his sticky, thick sperm. his hand keeps working for a moment before he finally let's off, sinking down onto you.

"you okay?" he mumbles, placing lazy kisses against your skin, hands rubbing your sides gently. all you can do is nod, rubbing his back as he lays on top of you, both of you far too exhausted to stand up before both of you doze off on the couch, still tangled up with each other.

[iiyoshi]

This is a one time thing only. But BOAT BOYS >>>

Eefo♡

Pairing : Smalletho(Joel x Etho) /r /p

Additional Tags : Eefo(lmao), coffeeshop-ish AU?, Hermitcraft, it's so weird because they're in-game but also not yk?, just the two of them being a mess and totally not obsessed with each other

"Eefo!"

Etho could only laugh as Joel was stuck behind the counter, helplessly trying to take his order.

"Alright, alright! Chill." He finally says, paying for his coffee.

The shop was relatively empty this morning, and given how most people were off traveling, the server was quite empty.

Etho grabs a seat, one where he can silently admire Joel from afar without being too obvious about it.

Surely, he wasn't the one obsessed. Joel was.

Right?

As the coffee machine chimed, Etho watched as Joel grabbed a paper cup and a marker, scribbling something.

"I'm the only one here, you know?" He gestures at the empty shop. "You don't have to write my name."

"I-I wasn't doing anything of the sort!" Joel stammered, quickly turning to pour Etho's drink in his cup. "Besides, you wouldn't have seen me unless you were staring. Obsessed much?"

"You're the one obsessed!" Etho quickly fired back.

Oh, how childish this silly game was between the two.

"Here. Your order, Eefo." Joel quickly places the cup on the counter and heads towards the back to do.. well, things.

Etho called out a quick "thank you" and left the shop, his coffee in his hand.

As the doorbell chimed once more, signaling Etho's departure, Joel finally poked his head out from the storage room and let out a sigh.

Had Etho realised any sooner instead of quickly running away to get out of the awkward situation, Joel might've died of embarrassment right then and there.

What was he thinking? Was that his attempt at being charming? Funny?

He sighs, grateful at the fact Etho hadn't realised or hadn't pointed it out; yet, disappointed Etho probably hadn't, and might not, realise.

Little did he know, Etho was stood right there outside the coffee shop, hand over his masked face, cup in the other, staring at the name Joel clearly had written -- Eefo♡

- × - × - × - × - × - × - × -

I'm sorry. I think I got a bit obsessed over these two. You could see this as platonic or romantic, personally I just think they're a cute duo and I couldn't help myself :cry:

Of course, both real human beings!! so I don't hope to make anyone, especially them, uncomfortable.

Thank you for reading <3 now let's go overanalyze Neck Kisses again

[the-fluff-piece]

Night shift 🌙

Coffeeshop AU - getting a visit from Detective Smoker

This is day 4 of tropetember

Also check out my stories and headcanon masterlists

You're just a student with a job in a diner. You work the night shift because you like the calm of the night hours - and so does Smoker, a weary cop stopping by for a coffee and your company every so often.

Note: Mr 2's alias Bon Kurei was translated to"Bon Curry" in my country, so that's how I'm using it here.

Detective Smoker was a night-owl, and a regular at Bon Curry's diner. He usually stomped in around midnight, sat down at his usual spot and waited for Bon-Chan to bring him the usual - a strong coffee and a slice of the Diner's signature apple pie (contrary to the name, there was no curry on the menu).

His burly stature and grumpy demeanor were intimidating, so most waiters avoided him, except for your boss, whom everyone just called Bon-Chan. He was a lively and excentric person and the only one who was consequently delighted to serve the detective.

So when the door opened, ringing the bell and the big man with the dark coat entered the room, you waited for Bon-Chan to bring him the usual.

Smoker sat down with a groan and enjoyed his cigar. And waited. You continued to clean the counter. That old scary grump was not your responsibility, you told yourself.

Ten minutes passed. Smoker began to drum the table impatiently. Where's Bon-chan?

You looked around, he must be in the kitchen. You went looking - and smelled smoke - and there he was, fanning a burning something on the counter with this apron.

"I have a little bit of a situation here, darling" he said, waving you away.

"Uhm, the detective is here..." You told your boss, hoping he would take the hint.

"So? I'm busy here, you bring him the usual" he desperately continued to fan smoke out of the back window.

"He doesn't bite. He's actually a good guy. Just make a bit of smalltalk, he's a regular. You got this!" He gave you a thumbs up before taking care or the accident again. Bon-Chan was so cheery and positive, you couldn't refuse.

So you dutifully returned to the dining area, loaded a slice of pie and a coffee on a tablet and brought it to the detective's table.

"The usual" you said, a bit shaking, as you set the order down in front of him, already afraid what he might say. He was even more scary up close, but also strangely handsome. From afar, he looked much older - now you realised he must be in his mid thirties.

His angular face could only be described as masculine and stern. A nasty looking scar was above his eye. His nose looked crooked, like it had been broken more than once and never settled right. His stature was undeniably muscular and broad. Overall, not the qualities you liked on customers at all. He looked like the kind to make problems.

"Where's Bon-Chan" it felt more like an order than a question. He looked up at you through the tobacco smoke and you noticed his warm brown eyes, a stark contrast to his white hair and light skin.

"He is occupied, in the kitchen" you swallowed. His eyes may have been like warm chocolate, but you didn't doubt his stare could break any street thug's will.

"Hmph" He grunted as he sipped the hot coffee.

Just make some smalltalk, Bon-Chan's request echoed in your head. He prided himself to run the most welcoming diner in town, with an open ear and a Chat for everyone. You thought about how he often sat with customers, listening to their problems, easing their cares. It was a warmth you wanted to provide, too.

This man looked so weary, you had your work cut out for you. So you took all your courage and stammered out the usual question:

"So, had a long day?" You asked, hoping for the best. This man couldn't be further from your usual crowd.

"Long week." He rubbed the hunched bridge of his nose, looking unnerved.

"Must be tough out there" you said.

"You have no idea, miss" He squinted at you. "Can't you get Bon-Chan?" He asked, twisting his neck to scan the diner.

"He is fighting some burnt pie in the kitchen" you said, unprepared for the deep, guttural laugh that followed.

"Still clumsy I see, he doesn't change" Smoker laughed and his expression relaxed a little.

"Have you known each other for a long time?" You asked, now curious.

"Yes. We met through my work" He seemed engaged now. In a talking mood.

"He doesn't look like much, hell, before I met him I would probably not have taken him serious. But just let it be said that your boss saved my ass. Got a mean kick" He chuckled at your surprised face.

Your boss, that scrawny, skinny man with heavy make up, saving that hunk?

Smoker took a deep draught of his cigar and veiled himself in smoke.

"Now you have to tell me more!" You were intrigued, you didn't know much about Bon-Chan's past and he never told.

"Maybe another time, miss" Smoker raised his brow and leaned back in his chair, stretching.

His chest was so massive, it put quite the strain on the fabric of his shirt. You figured that he already wore the biggest size he could find. The stretched material revealed bulging pecs, the clearly defined muscles moving as he breathed in and out.

"Something wrong, miss?" He asked.

"No, not at all" you were ripped from the hypnotic moment, realising how athletic he was build. Rolled up sleeves revealed strong arms with thick veins stretching over his lower arms and big hands.

He leaned on the table again, robbing you of the sight of his chest - and instead treating you to a warm glance from his chestnut eyes.

"Why don't you tell me your story? You haven't been around long, miss" He dug into his pie and listened to you.

You told him why you came town and how you came to work at the diner, while he ate the slice of pie. He asked clarifying questions from time to time, remembering smallest details you mentioned. His eyes glinted with interest as he came to cunning conclusions about you.

You decided it was your time to ask and get him talking.

He told you how he grew up here, in a very bad part of town, actually not far from your flat. It was cheap living space, but not exactly the place with the best reputation. He seemed a bit concerned for your safety, but held back with overbearing advice.

"I bet you have your hands full, being in the police force around here" you said.

He nodded.

"There's a lot of great people here that deserve a safe town. I'm trying to do my part." He said it with such a finality that you didn't have a doubt about his conviction.

"Are you sure I shouldn't accompany you home?" He seriously looked at you.

"No, I've made it home for the past months, it will be OK." You told him.

He nodded.

"But if you ever feel unsafe, don't hesitate to ask" He said.

"Well, I'm off again" He said as he finished the last of his midnight meal.

"I hope to see you again, soon. Take care out there at night" He said in a warm voice.

As he put on his coat and got ready to leave, his demeanor hardened again, like he had to put on armor against the harsh world outside. He nodded towards the counter and left, vanishing into the foggy night again.

You looked over - Bon-Chan was leaning next to the coffee maker with a broad grin.

"Aw darling, he likes you!" His voice reminded you of your mom's, when she asked about the boys at school.

"I just chatted, like you asked!" You said, trying to play cool.

"He doesn't just like anyone. And he rarely smiles. You're on Smoker-duty from now on." He turned around to avoid further discussion.

When you cleared the table, you found a more than generous tip. Smoker-duty might prove exciting and profitable at the same time.

-----

Smoker

Over the years, he has become a little rough-edged, he knew that. The streets were tough and he saw a lot of horrible things every day. He couldn't save everyone and he often asked himself if he made any difference at all anymore.

He feared that he was getting like the old guys on the force - hopeless, bitter, disillusioned.

He returned to Bon Curry's diner as often as he did because it was a warm place, and there was always someone to keep him company. It reminded him of the good places of this town.

The waitress he talked to today was a welcome addition. He thought about her as he opened the door to his dark apartment.

He had noticed her before, standing silently behind the counter. He'd always found her to be pretty. And tonight he discovered that she was a good listener and a kind soul as well.

He hoped that she would be safe and would see her again. He looked forward to his next night shift.

--

Yes, I put Mr 2 in there because I love the thought of them running a small shop and providing shelter for lost souls. And yes, I would love them to be unexpected friends with smoker.

I like smoker in this setting, maybe there will be more parts.

And yes, he's a big, sexy daddy and y/n is a small, cute student.

Taglist @yeeeeezly @waitingmydemons @stariski @livwritesfics @violetmatcha

[captain-mj]

I’ve never done this before so don’t be mean to me I’ll cry. but could we have some more of the small switch au? ✨Pretty please✨

Don’t worry friend! I got you!! Previous part here

CW: Drug use, suicidal junk

Soap should be doing dozens of things right now. Relaxing. Sleeping. Enjoying his leave.

Instead he was… watching Ghost. Definitely not stalking. Stalking made it sound creepy and this was not creepy.

He hoped.

As far as Price knew, Soap spent his leave in Glasgow and Ghost spent his leave in Manchester. The latter was true. Made evident by Ghost currently smiling at an older woman he had put together was his mom. They were at a coffeeshop and they looked… domestic.

She fussed over him. That was clear. The new scar on his arm from shrapnel was a big part of her concern. She kept going back to it and grabbing his hands like he’d disappear on her.

Ghost smiled and reassured her so she’d relax again. They were so soft. So…. Viscerally human. Soap wondered if he had ever looked like that. He couldn’t remember.

She said something. Whatever it was, it broke the atmosphere so violently Soap felt the tension across the room.

He stood up, those doe eyes filled with the frustration that came from repeat arguments.

Soap clearly saw his mouth as he said. “I don’t want to see him.”

She had the same doe eyes. Big and bright. Lovely. He couldn't read her lips as easily. Not used to watching her speak the way he watched Ghost.

Ghost shook his head and walked away from her. His soft hoodie and jeans looked nice. Black jeans and a grey hoodie. Both hugging him just right.

Soap had an opportunity to just move on. He could leave and no one would know.

But Ghost was right there and he wanted answers. So Soap followed. He trailed at a considerably distance so that Ghost wouldn't pick up on him. Ghost seemed to float. Nice and easy. Sweet and ripe for the picking.

He turned his head, beautiful blond waves moving around. His smile could've provided warmth for a small country.

Soap wondered if he ran his tongue along his skin, if he'd taste as sweet as he looked.

Maybe.

Simon went to a flat nearby and he got dressed. For some reason, despite everything Soap knew about Ghost, he left his curtains open. It meant he got a good look at Ghost's back.

That's when it hit him that maybe he went a little too far with this whole thing. He was staring at him like a fucking creep. Obsessing over answers that he'd kill anyone for trying to get out of him.

Soap rubbed his face, wearing a thin ski mask and eyeshadow. He needed to just accept defeat and go home to pretend he wasn't here harassing his team mate.

Ghost stepped out again and Soap went on high alert, quickly noticing how he was dressed.

Nevermind. He'd follow that man to the end's of the earth.

A crop top. The fucker had a black crop top on and tight fucking pants. Soap felt indecent looking at him. His blood started rushing south and he realized how long it had been since he had gotten laid.

Before Roba, so maybe 4 years? Jesus Christ.

Ghost kept walking and Soap trailed, in a trance. He imagined his mouth on those arms of his and goddamn.

Ghost went into a club and Soap waited a few minutes before going in.

There was a band playing. The lead singer had skull makeup on and the guitarist and drummer were wearing masks. Soap didn't find himself liking the music all that much, a little too angry and loud. But Ghost was here somewhere.

Soap got a Scotch and took a drink of it, reluctantly pulling his mask up to do so. He put his drink down and watched everyone, trying to pick out his tall target from the bodies pressing against each other. It started to overwhelm him.

How long had he been there? He checked the time and saw almost an hour had passed. So much time was slipping by. No matter how hard he looked, he couldn't find him.

Too many people. He leaned against the bar and started to breath as deeply as he could. Desperation for air filled his lungs.

Arms appeared on either side of him but before he could flip out and start fighting, his hands were pinned.

If Soap had leaned back, his head would've touched Simon's stomach.

Too close.

"Learned from last time." Simon said in his ear, pressed right against his back. His voice had a small slur to it. "Just focus on me."

Johnny hated being touched. He hated it so much. But Simon was so warm. His breathing was so steady that Johnny found himself copying it. Slowly, he started to calm down.

Simon's tattoos were so pretty around him. "There you are. Knew you were watching me. Almost thought you were fake."

Johnny kept breathing slowly. "You knew?"

"Yep. Didn't expect you to follow me here. You liked watching me and mom drink tea?"

Johnny felt himself flush and start to panic. Simon put his arms around him and led him outside, his height being used as an advantage. He led him outside and put Soap against the wall, hand next to his head.

"What are you doing?"

"Price couldn't reach you."

Simon pulled his phone out of his pocket. "Talked to me twenty minutes ago." He was pale. Very pale. Lips a pretty pink. Something was wrong here, but Johnny couldn't be sure.

Soap didn't have an excuse for himself. He looked away and gritted his teeth.

"Were you worried about me, Johnny?"

Soap refused to answer.

"Take the way out, sir. Otherwise, I have to assume it was a lot more dastardly, the reason you followed me out here tonight." Ghost grinned at him. "I have to assume you wanted to see me."

Soap blushed. He could feel the heat in his cheeks. Ghost realized and swallowed.

"You did want to see me."

Soap glared. "You have secrets."

"What?" Ghost looked taken back.

Soap nodded. "There's something off about you. You have a past. Something you don't want to talk about."

Ghost paused and then slowly tilted his head. Blank. Dark. He stepped forward and Soap refused to back down. "You have a blackhole in your fucking file. I've seen it. Nothing there but black fucking lines. You're a fucking asshole for expecting me to spill my guts when you won't. You want the truth, Johnny? My dad was a prick."

Oh.

Oh.

Soap winced and stared up at him, guilt filling him. "I..."

"He'd bring home animals. Beat me to hell. Brought me hunting just to put a gun right here." He tapped his temple. "There you go. My mysterious scars are from a childhood I'd like to forget. Of course you bring this up fucking today."

"That's the guy you wanted your mom wanted you to see?"

Simon scoffed. "You're... God, you're an asshole." He swayed and grabbed Soap for balance, putting his head on his shoulder. "You could've just asked."

Soap winced at regained contact. "You solid?"

Simon yanked away from him and threw up in the dumpster, shaking like a leaf. "No."

"Listen, lightweight. You really need to slow down." He grabbed his hair immediately to hold it back. Soap pretended not to notice the half dissolved pills in all the bourbon. Didn't look like anything prescribed.

"Fuck you." Ghost didn't seem nearly as menacing as he did a minute ago. He was right back to wet kitten mode.

Soap sighed. "Let me take you home."

Ghost shook his head. Miserable. Hair still held by Soap's gloved hands. "I'm fine to walk home."

"No, you're not. You're gagging and shaking. I'll walk you home."

"My place is a mess." Ghost tried to fight him but it didn't work well. It was half assed and he just flopped against him after a moment, breathing in deeply. "Johnny..."

Soap smiled. "I know your address."

"Course you do."

Soap walked him home and put him in bed. The place was spotless. More than spotless. The only evidence it was lived in was a few cups in the sink.

Ghost finally seemed to throw up everything and he just collapsed into bed.

"You eaten?" Soap asked. "Haven't seen you eat all day."

Ghost shook his head.

Soap nodded and looked around the flat. He found some crackers for him to eat but Ghost looked reluctant.

"Come on. Eat up."

Simon grumbled but ate the crackers. He laid back in the bed and relaxed. Innocent. A little lamb. His eyes slowly closed, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

Soap felt even more criminal than he already did. Ghost was younger. Youngest person to join the SAS at 24. His sergeant. And here he was, being a horrible creep.

"Sleep on my couch."

"Why?"

"It's hours until Glasgow. Plus, I might die in my sleep and I would want you to find me." Ghost opened his eyes to look at him. "You came at just the right time."

Soap felt sick. He didn't sleep. Now, instead of looking at him for his own selfish needs, he watched him in case he asphyxiated or overdosed. Every twitch was possible convulsions.

What the hell did Ghost mean by he came at the right time?

-

Simon woke up in a semi high haze. He groaned and stretched, realizing he was still in all of his clothes. He started undressing himself to take a shower.

Soap cleared his throat. Very clearly in his doorway.

Ghost wasn't shy about his body so he kept undressing. "You're here."

"Stayed all night. Didn't want you to choke to death on your own vomit."

Ghost grunted and pulled off his pants.

"Or try to finish the job. Were you doing that shit on purpose? Hoping I'd find your dead body?"

"No. I don't know. I feel like the guy who stalked me doesn't have much of a moral high ground."

Soap scoffed and glared into him.

"I wasn't trying to kill myself. You don't have to look at me like that. I was just... trying to lose myself for a bit. Stupidly, I assumed you'd leave. Should've realized you're like a blood hound."

Soap shook his head and looked away. He wore a different mask so Ghost could see his mohawk.

"Your hair is cool."

Soap quickly turned back around. "What?"

"I said it's cool."

"Thanks."

Ghost smiled awkwardly and left the room. "help yourself to whatever."

Soap nodded. "Nothing but tea here."

"Try some. Might like it."

Soap tried making tea but it was super bitter. He almost gagged when he drank it and he set it to the side.

Ghost came out of the shower. Wearing nothing but boxers.

What the hell.

He grabbed Soap's abandoned cup of tea and looked into it.

"What did you do to it?"

"I just steeped it?"

"How hot did you make the water?"

"I just boiled it and dropped a couple of tea bags into it."

"A couple??" Ghost looked confused. "How much were you trying to make?"

"A cup?"

Ghost sighed and started to fix a kettle. How domestic. His large back on display.

Soap felt both overdressed and horribly naked. Ghost could probably see everything going on in his brain.

He gave him a mug that looked so much lighter than the one he made.

"Sip it. See if it needs sugar."

It was warm. Filled up his chest. "It's fine."

Ghost nodded and sat on his chair, spreading his legs.

Soap tried to not stare at him. He just kept drinking.

They didn't speak much.

For some reason, Soap didn't leave for the rest of their little vacation.

-

They didn't talk about any of this. They just started working again when they got back.

Soap made his coffee and for some reason, he made a second cup. He slid it to Ghost when he saw him.

Ghost slowly sipped it and nodded. "I like it. Way better than the other stuff."

Soap nodded. "Way better."

They shared a moment of silence.

Ghost took a deep breath. "I can't sleep because of insomnia. Get nightmares and stuff. You?"

"Nightmares. I feel things... Bugs. Stuff like that."

Ghost nodded and looked at the cup. "I'm...sorry for the leave. You shouldn't have had to babysit me."

Soap felt so stupid. He didn't know why. His skin started to crawl.

"I was being pathetic. Curling up like a fucking alcoholic."

Soap closed the gap. His mask was still up.

Ghost tasted like coffee and bergamot. His hair still felt so soft.

Ghost kissed back, pulling him in closer. "Fucking hell."

Soap expected to push back. To dominate. Ghost was so soft in his own ways. Instead, he found himself matched and kissed back. Held so tight it made his breath catch.

And then Ghost growled and Soap found himself falling into his lap, panting. He wondered if Ghost would listen to his orders in bed. If they'd be like on the field. Perfect and seamless.

Ghost pulled him back and put his face in Soap's throat, breathing. His hands curled around him defensively. "I... um..."

Soap blurted out. "I want to draw you."

"...okay."

[padfootagain]

Something Good (X)

Chapter 10 : Chocolate Muffins

Hello, lovelies! Here is a new chapter for my Ben Barnes series!

Some more London cuteness! Ben struggles with his feelings, and we also have some Sally cuteness!

Hope you like this chapter! Tell me what you think!

****

Pairing: Ben Barnes x Reader

Warnings: none! Slow burn, professor AU.

Summary: Coming out of a divorce and trying to get used to being a single mom, while teaching your classes at University, you thought your life could not get more complicated than it already is. But when you are asked to take care of the theatre club with the colleague that you really can’t get along with, you realize that everything can still get ten times more complicated in your life. And when you start actually liking Professor Barnes, the troubles only grow exponentially…

Word Count: 2688

Masterlist for the series – Ben Barnes’s Masterlist – Main Masterlist

Second busy day at the British Library and you were in desperate need of a break and a large, very large coffee.

But you hesitated when you saw him bent over a piece of manuscript, a focused frown on his face, his glasses a little lopsided but he didn’t seem to have noticed.

He seemed too busy, you didn’t want to disturb him. You were about to turn around, but Ben seemed to have sensed your presence near his table, as he turned towards you and whispered your name.

There were a dozen of people working in the large room, all of them bent over ancient and precious documents. In the working room, perfectly lit, perfectly organized, pristine, there was barely any sound, only the tapping of fingers upon laptops, the occasional delicate turn of a page and the hurried movement of pens moving across notebooks.

You turned around, smiling at Ben, and he waited for you to come closer to speak again, keeping his voice down. It sounded deeper than usual, almost hoarse, as he whispered.

“Do you need anything?” he asked, looking up at you.

You smiled, refraining your urge to straighten his pair of glasses on his cute nose.

“Nothing, don’t worry. You’re busy.”

“It’s alright. Can I help you with anything?”

But you shook your head.

“I was just tired of working, and wanted to grab a coffee. But you’re busy, it’s okay.”

“No!”

His voice wasn’t so low anymore as he stopped you when you started to turn away. He blushed hard as several people turned frowning faces towards him.

“I… I mean… I could use a break too, actually.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, let’s grab a coffee.”

He was pathetic. Absolutely, utterly pathetic. Because he was, indeed, busy. But he would have dropped anything just to spend five minutes around a coffee with you…

Pathetic…

But then, you grinned, bright and welcoming, and even excited. And it was worth losing some working time. It was even worth him losing his dignity.

You walked quietly outside the room, and Ben offered to get some Starbucks, as he had spotted the coffeeshop nearby, and with your growing headache, you accepted without a second thought.

“So, any interesting details today?” he asked, tightening his hold on his coat as he stepped outside, the last days of October bringing a stinging wind to London.

“Quite a few! I’m going to need more time to work on some of the crossed-out lines, some are barely readable. And the hurried handwriting is difficult too. But it’s definitely easier to work on the real thing than some scans, so it helps. But I needed a break. My eyes are so sore after spending so much time trying to decipher some messy handwriting!”

He chuckled.

“Yeah, I get that. Same here. But I’ve also noticed some very small annotations that I hadn’t been able to identify with the scans, and I think I’m finally heading towards the right meaning for them.”

“Really? Awesome!”

“I’m not quite sure yet, but… If I’m right, it seems to fit the theory I’m defending in this article I’m working on. The one I told you about yesterday.”

“That would be amazing!”

“Would you mind taking a look if you have a moment? I don’t want to get too excited on my own and then realize I was just… over-analysing everything.”

“Of course, I’ll take a look tomorrow if you want.”

“Thank you.”

You had barely noticed that you had been walking at all when you reached the coffeeshop. You joined the line to get an order, and decided to get some snack as well.

“Oh… I think I’ll get something with chocolate. Maybe a muffin. Muffins are always a safe choice,” you babbled away, but Ben kept on listening, and he actually didn’t seem to mind that you were speaking your thoughts without any kind of filter, on the contrary.

“Chocolate is a safe choice too,” he commented.

“Agreed! Agreed!” you frantically nodded.

“Now, I want to have a snack too…” Ben heaved a sigh. “You have a terrible influence on me.”

“Are you merely noticing it now?”

You both chuckled at that, but it was soon your turn to order, and you headed for a small table with your pastries and your tall coffees.

Ben straightened his glasses, pushed them up his nose, before looking at you again. You smiled at the gesture without noticing. A habit of his…

And he noticed the way you spun your mug in your hand a few times before drinking, you always did. A habit of yours…

You looked so pretty today… it was highly unfair… this shirt matched your eyes too well…

He pushed the thought away. He needed to remain focused, he needed to remain professional.

You were colleagues. You worked together. It would be too complicated. And you were a single-mother, this was absolute madness. He was too much of a mess to handle all the responsibilities that would come with dating someone in general, but a mother… no. No, that was too risky. Too much love to give away…

He cleared his throat, bent the conversation towards work again, and it lasted almost until your cups were empty and cakes fully eaten. But you were interrupted by the buzzing of your cell phone coming from your handbag.

“Oh, it’s my mom, I need to pick it up,” you apologized, but Ben nodded with a warm smile.

You answered the call, and hesitated to walk outside the coffeeshop, when you noticed that it was a videocall. You waved and grinned at the sight of your daughter’s face appearing on the screen.

“Mummy!” she cried in excitement, making you laugh, and even though it was impolite, you completely forgot about the world around you and remained sitting, oblivious of the large smile that formed on Ben’s face on the other side of the table.

He rested his chin in his palm, and his gaze and smile grew dreamy as you spoke, but you didn’t notice, and neither did he.

“Hello, my little peanut!” you cooed. “How are you today?”

“I’m painting with granny! Look!”

She held her drawing in front the phone so you would see, and you heard your mother fondly chuckle behind the phone.

“Those are very pretty!” you congratulated your daughter.

“This one is for you, mummy! And I’ve made more flowers too for daddy! Look!”

She held another sheet of paper where you recognized the shape of flowers painted by clumsy children’s hands. You were still grinning.

“These are very pretty too!”

“Do you think daddy will like them?”

“Oh, yes! Of course, he will!”

“And I made these too, look!”

She showed you a couple of other paintings, that grew more chaotic as she had clearly lost her focus at this point.

“They’re pretty too! Did you have fun with granny?”

“Yes! It was fun! Are you having fun too, mummy?”

“Yes, quite!” you nodded, and you didn’t really acknowledge the way your thoughts drifted towards the previous evening, spent with Ben, but your mind wandered there all the same.

“Are you working?”

You suddenly remembered where you were, and looked up at Ben. He gave you a grin, before blushing fiercely.

It wasn’t polite at all to listen to people’s conversations…

But you grinned back at him, clearly amused by his reaction.

“I am actually taking a break with a colleague.”

“Who is it?” she asked with excitement.

Your daughter really was too damn curious…

“His name is Ben.”

“Is he a friend?”

“Yes, he’s a friend,” you nodded without hesitation, and Ben couldn’t control the way warmth spread across his chest and all the way up to redden his cheeks as you called him a friend.

After all, a few weeks before, you were enemies… but now…

He couldn’t refrain his grin.

“Can I say hello?” Sally asked, and you smiled fondly at her.

“Sure!”

You turned your phone around towards Ben, who smiled warmly at the little girl on the phone.

Cute pigtails, pink t-shirt with a unicorn. An adorable face and a look of mischief in her eyes. He noticed at once how much she looked just like you.

He was fond of her as soon as he saw her.

“Hello, Sally!” he waved, his smile widening. “I’m Ben!”

“Hello, Ben!” she waved too, a little shier now. “I’ve painted some flowers today!”

“Really? That sounds fantastic!”

“Do you want to see?”

“Of course! Please, show me!”

Sally grinned, before showing Ben her flowers.

He whistled.

“Wow! That’s some very pretty flowers! Are they for your mum?”

“This one, yes!” she said, showing the one filled with pink flowers. “Because she likes pink! But this one is for daddy!” she added, showing the one filled with orange and yellow flowers. “Because he likes yellow.”

“They’re gonna love them, they’re very pretty!”

“What’s your favourite colour?”

“Red,” Ben answered without thinking, a little taken aback by the question, but playing along still.

Sally nodded, apparently content with the answer.

“And then I’ve done some Modern Art, look!”

Ben tried to hide the amusement on his face, but when he looked up at you behind the phone, he couldn’t refrain a chuckle as you mouthed told you, Modern Art, with a dramatic eye-roll.

Indeed, the following paintings were messy, to say the least, but he complimented Sally all the same.

You decided that it was enough time spent bothering Ben, although he didn’t mind at all, in reality. He found your daughter adorable.

“Mummy! When are you coming back?” Sally asked as you turned the phone towards you again.

“In four days, angel.”

Sally seemed to think for a second, but then she nodded.

“Yes, because today is Tuesday, and tomorrow is Wednesday,” she babbled away, counting the days on her tiny fingers. “And then it’s Thursday, and after that, Friday. And then it will be Saturday, and you said you were coming back on Saturday. Because Saturday is the weekend and mummies don’t work on the weekend.”

“Exactly! I’ll call you back this evening before you go to bed, angel. Okay?”

Sally nodded, but frowned and narrowed her eyes as she seemed to notice something on the screen.

“Mummy? Are you eating?”

You chuckled.

“It’s teatime,” you argued.

Sally’s eyes grew round.

“Are you eating a muffin?”

“Yes…”

She turned to her grandmother, who chuckled at the sight off-camera.

“Granny! Can we eat a muffin too?”

“If you want to, angel,” answered your mother, without trying to argue.

“Mom… don’t let her eat too many sweets!”

“Oh, relax! Enjoy your afternoon with your handsome colleague, and let me worry about your daughter’s snacks.”

“Mom!” you hissed, trying to hide from Ben, who was blushing but had a cocky smile on his lips now.

“Granny! Hurry! We need to go get muffins! MUFFINS!”

“Say goodbye to your mum first, angel.”

Sally reappeared on the screen and waved at you with a toothy grin.

“Bye mummy! I love you!”

“I love you too, angel! Be nice with your granny!”

You bade goodbye to your mother too, and ended the call.

You looked up at Ben with a shy smile.

“Sorry for the interruption,” you apologized, but Ben was laughing.

“Don’t worry. I don’t mind. Your daughter is cute.”

“She is.”

“She looks just like you.”

Your smile turned into a proud grin.

“Yeah, she kind of does.”

“She seems as chaotic as you, too,” he joked.

“She’s worse, trust me! You wouldn’t survive five minutes with her.”

“You’re forgetting that I’m the best uncle in the country.”

“Ha, yes, my bad! I’ll give you ten minutes then, before you start having an emotional breakdown.”

You both laughed.

“She seems quite amazing, actually,” Ben added, growing more serious again.

You weren’t sure why your heart filled with fondness under your ribcage, but it did. You nodded.

“She is. She truly is. I’m very lucky.”

Ben was about to speak again when a woman stopped by your table.

“Ben?”

He looked up, and he seemed surprised, but not in a bad way.

“Maeve? Hi!”

“It’s really you! I haven’t seen you in ages!”

Ben stood up to gave the woman a hug while you sipped on your coffee, waiting, quite uncomfortable now.

You couldn’t help but notice that she was extremely beautiful, and you weren’t sure why you didn’t like that fact, just like you didn’t like the way she kept on holding onto Ben’s arms when he pulled away from the hug.

“I didn’t know you were back in town!” she went on, grinning.

“I’m just staying for a week. I’m working at the British Library, for a paper.”

“Oh, I see.”

She seemed to finally notice your presence, and Ben introduced you. You shook hands with Ben’s friend, before she turned her attention back to him again.

“I’m glad you’ve found someone else, you deserve it…”

You frowned, and Ben fiercely blushed, as he shook his head.

“Oh, no… Y/N is a colleague. We… we’re working together.”

“Oh, sorry! I thought…” she apologized, turning to your again.

“Just friends,” you nodded.

Ben’s eyes lingered on you, and he couldn’t fully hide his disappointment. He was happy to hear this title earlier but now it sounded… limiting. Full of barriers.

Just friends…

“Right, well I… I hope you’ll find someone,” Maeve turned to Ben again. “After what happened with Julia I… I’ve never really had the occasion to tell you that I’m really sorry…”

“Yeah… huh… thanks…”

Ben was fidgety all of a sudden, gaze fleeing, trying to get away. You wondered who Maeve was talking about.

His ex-girlfriend, you guessed. And he seemed pretty upset by the mere mention of her name.

You felt saddened by the discomfort on Ben’s features.

“But you seem to be doing fine,” he said, diverting the conversation.

“I’m great, yeah! I saw Garrett the other day!”

“Nice!”

But Ben was growing more and more uncomfortable by the minute, and when he glanced over at you, you could only offer him a shy smile.

“Well, it was nice seeing you again,” Ben smiled, trying to politely escape. “But we’ve got to get back to work, we were merely taking a break.”

“Oh, sure! Have a nice afternoon, then! It was nice seeing you again! Maybe we can grab some coffee or something!”

“Sure! Why not!”

But he reached for his coat already, and you caught on without a word, standing and wrapping your scarf around your neck too.

You hurried after Ben outside, and he heaved a relieved sigh once he was in the street.

“Sorry about that,” he apologized with a sheepish expression all over his features.

“No worries. These are always uncomfortable encounters,” you reassured him.

“Yeah… quite… Still, I’m sorry. You didn’t even have time to finish your muffin.”

“You mean… this muffin?”

You grinned, taking proudly the piece of muffin you had left from the pocket of your vest, that you had wrapped into a napkin. Ben let out a laugh.

“You’re unbelievable,” he shook his head with fondness.

“It’s a muffin!”

“And a chocolate muffin!”

“Exactly! It can’t go to waste!”

You took a bite as you started walking towards your workplace again.

“Still, I’m sorry. It was a bit weird. But she… she’s one of my ex’s friends so…”

“Right,” you nodded knowingly.

“She’s nice but…”

“She was on her side of the relationship.”

“Yeah. Yeah, I guess you can put it that way.”

“You’re okay?” you asked, your voice more gentle.

“Yeah, yeah… just…”

Ben cleared his throat.

“Tough break-up,” he merely answered, and you didn’t insist. He felt grateful for it.

When you started the conversation again on a new topic, he couldn’t refrain a fond smile. He was merry again when you reached the library.

A strange power of yours, without a doubt.

He almost wanted to tell you about Julia. He felt like he could trust you with this part of his life.

But then, he remembered your words, the ones that stung a little too much.

Just friends…

He almost wanted to tell you. Almost…

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

Taglist : @reg-arcturus-black @sergeantbuckybarnes @wolfmoonmusic @idek-what-to-put @kpicard

[i-did-not-mean-to]

YOTP - July

Ah, I've forgotten to finish and upload this. Forgive me!

Pairing: Curumo x Aiwendil

Prompts: Vacation together, Power Swap, Enemies to Lovers, “Batman won’t like this”, Stars, Coffeeshop AU

Words: 2 015

Warnings: Hostility, a lost wallet, 1 bed trope, Aquarium, a kiss

Aiwendil pursed his lips but didn’t object when the rooms were assigned.

Curumo looked as if he’d bitten into a lemon, which was not exactly edifying either.

“All right?” Mairon asked impatiently.

“All right,” Aiwendil muttered. What else was he to say? He couldn’t very well tell his imperious top manager that he was afraid that Curumo might be unhappy.

Since he’d started working at the little, cosy coffee shop, he’d constantly found himself at odds with the tall, imperious, heart-wrenchingly alluring junior manager of the establishment.

At first, the tension had been distinctly hostile, and Aiwendil had suffered profoundly under the devastating certainty that he was loathed by his handsome superior when he’d done nothing to deserve such instant dislike as far as he recalled.

“We should go—I want to freshen up,” Curumo hissed without looking over and strode away.

Aiwendil followed him wordlessly, trying hard not to think of that hazy night of the last company Christmas party. Someone had spiked the punch, and they’d ended up making out frantically in the establishment’s impeccably clean backroom.

It had been an unexpected, cataclysmic event, and—to his knowledge—nobody else was aware of what had transpired.

Unfortunately, at least from Aiwendil’s perspective, such a thing had then never happened again.

On the contrary, from that incident onward, Curumo seemed to despise him even more; he could barely look at his young colleague without his thin-lipped mouth curling into a cruel, disgusted line.

They were, of course, much too professional to let the fraught enmity between them have any negative repercussions on the shop, and thus, the little business had known record figures this year around.

It had been generous of Melkor, the owner, to invite all his employees to a trip to the seaside during their obligatory off-season, and Aiwendil was far from ungrateful, but he now wished that he’d declined the offer, nevertheless.

Probably, it had all been a subterfuge to get Mairon, who managed most of the day-to-day affairs for Melkor, alone while wearing a skimpy bathing suit.

A sharp sting of envy shot through Aiwendil’s heart at the realisation that others fared much better with their workplace romances, and he vowed that he’d at least try to clear the air before he spent a whole weekend sharing a room with someone who seemed to hate him.

“Which bed do you want?” Curumo asked as he pushed open the plywood door, only to freeze mid-movement with a small but deep groan. “Never mind!”

Perplexed by this sudden change of stance, Aiwendil poked his head into the room and suppressed a low exclamation of distress of his own.

The point was moot because there was but one huge bed, looming like a pool of quicksand in the middle of the cosy room.

“Ah,” Aiwendil said indecisively because he felt that he needed to say something.

His intense desire to melt into the worn carpet, never to be seen again, remained mercilessly unfulfilled, though.

No matter how often or frantically he blinked, his unfortunate situation—condemned to spend his holiday perched up with someone he’d neither call an enemy, a friend, nor a lover confidently—didn’t change.

“This will absolutely not do,” Curumo grunted, his face ablush with righteous anger.

Aiwendil’s heart sank; he’d never considered the other a rival or even a foe, despite his outright inimical behaviour, and he’d secretly hoped that their inebriated folly would eventually have a positive impact on their strained relationship.

How bitterly disappointed he’d been in that regard. He hoped that it wasn’t too late to change that.

“I’m sorry,” he said automatically as if he’d purposefully booked the room they’d been assigned randomly. “Maybe we can swap with someone else?”

At that, Curumo frowned. “I highly doubt that any of the others would be any more comfortable sharing a bed than us.”

His eyebrow quirked expressively, telling Aiwendil that he’d not forgotten about his fall from grace either.

For a long moment, the only thing in the room was awkward tension and the wheezing of the old air conditioning.

“Maybe we should rejoin the others?” Aiwendil then said dejectedly—as much as he’d hoped that this little get-away would be the perfect opportunity to mend fences with Curumo, he wasn’t the kind of man who willingly, consciously imposed his prolonged presence on someone to whom it was visibly loathsome.

Unfortunately, their streak of bad luck didn’t end there.

When they’d made their way back to the lobby, having been delayed by an uncoordinated, fat woman trying to get all her suitcases out of the lift before the doors could close, their party had already left.

The snooty young man behind the reception desk wordlessly shoved over a glossy flyer, advertising a marine biology museum.

Curumo’s eyes lit up—he’d once dated a half-mad surfer who’d liked to wax poetic about various sea creatures. After the seemingly countless hours he’d listened to Aiwendil talk about local and exotic critters, he felt that it was only fair that he’d for once be the one to bore the other to tears with utterly irrelevant factoids.

“The next bus comes in 5 minutes,” the receptionist informed them before turning to the very same rotund lady from before who was now in tears because her AC unit was not working properly.

“Oh, that sounds fun…If you want to go, I mean,” Aiwendil muttered miserably, picking up random brochures and stuffing them into his very unattractive fanny pack haphazardly.

“Do you think I want to spend the day alone with you?” Curumo hissed. “Let’s go!”

To his surprise, his unwelcome companion’s choices had been much less random than he’d originally thought. As a matter of fact, Aiwendil was able to locate the bus stop and work out a shortcut that might get them to the museum in time to rejoin their group.

Uncomfortable and embarrassed, Curumo launched into a long diatribe about the sexual habits of dolphins—it soon turned out that Aiwendil was a much more gracious listener than his cranky colleague had ever been.

That much could have been predicted, but Curumo found himself nevertheless bemused by the evident swap in roles and powers.

Usually, it was Aiwendil who was chattering away while he tried to keep things running smoothly. He was also astounded by how relaxing it was to, for once, let someone else worry about the applicable minutia and rules while he could simply prattle on and on with gusto.

“No! Really?” Aiwendil exclaimed, proving that he’d been listening carefully, as they got out of the last bus. It had been an unbearably hot and uncomfortable ride, but Curumo almost regretted its inevitable end.

He even grimaced when he saw his bosses and colleagues standing around aimlessly in front of the wide-open glass doors.

“Melkor lost his wallet—again!” Mairon snorted. Their manager wore his white linen suit with the enviable elegance of a black widow squandering her inheritance at the French Riviera, and his designer eyewear flashed in the merciless sun as their chaotic boss crawled on his hands and knees under benches.

“I had it when we left,” Melkor swore and narrowed his eyes at his employees in a silent bid for assistance.

“At once,” Aiwendil exclaimed and dropped to his own knees readily.

Curumo watched him scurry this way and that, and—behind his own sober sunglasses—he shamelessly ventured a few lingering looks at his colleague’s small, firm behind poking out from behind a massive flowerpot.

Finally, when the renegade wallet had been located and retrieved, they all shuffled into the blue penumbra of the museum obediently—it was uncomfortably hot and muggy inside, and people soon split up into smaller groups so as to not overcrowd the displays.

When Aiwendil looked up from an explanatory plaquette about the conservation efforts made by the local government he’d been perusing with earnest interest, he was startled to discover that Curumo was still hovering at his side, evidently patiently waiting for him to finish.

“Would you like to go see the tunnel?” he asked sheepishly. From where he stood, he’d seen his colleagues rush through the hallway that cut right through one of the bigger aquariums, and he’d been irrationally dismayed by their lack of patience and admiration for their unique surroundings.

“The glass is solid, right?” Aiwendil mumbled. “I’m not a superb swimmer.”

“If it should collapse, swimming would be least of your worries,” Curumo assured him in what he only realised had been more of a threat than a kindness when Aiwendil’s eyes widened in sudden alarm. “Nonsense, the glass is perfectly safe. Come!”

Since that night when Curumo’s thin, firm lips had driven him half to distraction, Aiwendil had never received another invitation of any kind, so he was not about to forego this one. He lurched into motion.

Standing in the flickering darkness, he felt his heartbeat quicken and his cheeks warm up as he listened to Curumo explain the different species that were gliding past them with majestic equanimity.

Aiwendil was a creature made for verdant forests and muddy ground, so—between the ever-shifting hues of dark blue and sea green and Curumo’s intense gaze—he felt as if he was floating through a foreign, not entirely soothing world.

“Oh, look at that school!” Curumo suddenly exclaimed softly, his long finger pointing at a silvery cloud of tiny fish.

“They look like stars,” Aiwendil mumbled, awe-struck, and then immediately ducked his head in anticipation of the harsh reprimand for having spoken such a silly, unnecessary observation.

“They rather do, yes,” Curumo mused.

“Is that a ray?” Aiwendil asked breathlessly to distract himself from the surge of unbidden, yet indomitable hope.

“So it is,” Curumo whispered. He was mesmerised by the way the light, reflecting off the innumerable bellies of passing fishes, danced upon Aiwendil’s gently smiling face. Why did he always have to look so enviably happy?

For months, Curumo had more or less consciously tried to dim that fierce light of compelling optimism and pure joy lest it break down all his walls and overcome his cautious reservations.

Standing here felt oddly intimate—he was used to seeing Aiwendil under the bright, flickering lights of the coffee shop, his hair tied back and his best customer service smile plastered across his cute face, but this dreamy, undeniably private smile inevitably awakened something dark and dangerous in the depths of Curumo’s heart and soul.

He leaned forward ever so slightly.

“Batman, I mean Sea Batman, won’t like this,” Melkor hooted from behind a corner and was promptly shushed by Mairon who dragged him away to look at a fearsome octopus instead.

“Sea Batman,” Aiwendil chuckled nervously, his eyes darting to and fro between Curumo’s intense expression and the majestic ray hovering above them like a living parasol.

“Don’t listen to him,” Curumo laughed. “We’re on holiday—he’s not our boss right now.”

“He’s always our boss,” Aiwendil started to protest but his display of unconditional loyalty to his place of work and his superiors was silenced by the brush of blessedly cool lips against his own.

The featherlight touch was silken and smooth, just as Aiwendil imagined the sleek bodies floating around them to feel under his twitching fingers.

The oppressive, damp heat of the tunnel seemed to grow inexorably, but that long-awaited kiss nevertheless felt like a soothing caress of cool water and fresh air against Aiwendil’s burning skin.

As from far away, they heard their colleagues declare that they’d seen enough.

“Let them go,” Curumo murmured. “They won’t miss us. We’ll find our own way.”

The thought of having dinner alone with his most cherished foe made the tall man grin sharply. “You’ve proven that you can steer us safely through the city, haven’t you?”

At one, Aiwendil nodded proudly.

They waited for another 5 minutes, giggling and kissing like schoolboys under the motionless, expressionless gaze of thousands of aquatic spectators before they left, breathing in the clean, cool night air greedily.

“Let’s not switch rooms,” Curumo laughed, took Aiwendil’s arm, and started walking towards the city centre.

Thank you for reading and sorry for the delay!

-> Masterlist

[wesperbrekkered]

Decided that for Wip Wednesday from now on I'm gonna post my favorite snippet so far from each one of my *many* wesper wips that im working on. Tags under the cut ♡

-------

Tangled In Your Web > Spiderverse AU Part 2

Crossing the room so that he could loop his arms around Jesper’s neck and give him a kiss. “Do you want to come over to my universe?” Wylan asked softly, lips brushing against Jesper’s as he spoke, “my government likes to profit off their superheroes and they just released a Spiderman movie, I need to laugh about the inaccuracies with you.

Jesper chuckled, kissing Wylan again. “Sounds fun,” he said, already feeling the coil in his stomach loosen.

-------

To Capture Perfections Muse > Domestic wesper fluff

“You love me,” Jesper managed through his laughter, somehow managing to wrap Wylan up in his arms again.

“I am questioning all my life decisions right now,” Wylan complained, voice muffled where his face was shoved into his hoodie.

“You knew what you getting into,” he said smugly, kissing Wylan’s hair and rocking them side to side.

“Hence the questioning my life choices.”

_________

Of Latte Art and Sweet Suggestions > 5+1 coffeeshop au

“Just a caramel mocha for me please,” he said slowly, “with extra cream. And extra caramel syrup. Please.”

The barista raised a judgemental eyebrow, “that is far too much sugar,” he said stubbornly, the fake smile falling away to Jesper’s delight.

“It’s good!” Jesper tried to defend, leaning against the counter.

“You are going to rot your teeth out,” the barista said flatly, but he turned his head to the side anyway to type Jesper’s order into the computer, putting the elegant lines of his crooked nose on show. And that jawline, saints.

--------

50 Ways To Kill A Man > Detective AU

Jesper slammed the phone down with a triumphant grin.

Across the table from him, Inej raised a curious eyebrow. “What’s got you all excited?” She asked somewhat sceptically, pausing on her report. Leaning back on his chair, Jesper crossed his arms behind his head, grinning. “My darling Inej,” he said, ignoring her eyeroll, “Councillor Hoede is dead!”

---------

The Longest Hour chapter 7 > cowboy au

Jesper barely had a chance to register the fact that Wylan’s side of the bed was empty the next morning before something decidedly soft whacked him in the face.

Jesper spluttered, “wha—” whack.

Scrambling with his right hand, Jesper managed to locate one of his revolvers, fingers curling around the pearl handle just as a voice yelled, “Jesper get up.”

The sheer panic was what spurred him into action, startling him out of his drowsiness.

--------

To Love Like A Lie > Fake Dating AU

So here he was, at the wedding, with Wylan Van fucking Eck hanging off his arm as a very much unhelpful, very much fake date.

Jesper could only curse whatever ungodly deity was residing in the sky that seemed to have a perverse thrill in making him suffer.

Wylan bit his lip anxiously, eyeing the large crowd of people at the afterparty. “So maybe I was a bit hasty,” he admitted, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. A bit hasty was an understatement.

_______

Rose Tinted Glasses > Post - Canon Fluff

On these nights, Jesper liked to watch his boyfriend.

He hoped it wasn’t creepy, because he never intended it to be creepy, it was just that Wylan had that weird way of always being able to ground him in the moment, no matter how restless or jittery he may have felt.

It didn’t always work, some nights everything was just too much and Jesper would inevitably slink out of bed with a sigh and go run laps up and down the stairs to cool himself down.

He had a feeling this would be one of those nights, the soft light from the moon was painfully bright and his skin itched and burned with such an intensity that Jesper was half tempted to see if he could simply scratch the feeling away.

-----------

Of Hidden Truths and Drastic Actions > show!wesper tackling key book!wesper scenes

The coin his pocket burned like a hot iron, reminiscent of the way the other coin had heated while he shaped it into a coin, completely at ease with the icy hot pain that surged through Jesper like a shockingly cold river.

Everything was muddled and confused and it hurt, and Jesper didn’t fully understand what was going on.

All he knew, was that when Kaz Brekker said ‘meet Wylan Van Eck,’ his whole world had come to a sudden, screeching stop.

-----------

Of Gunslingers and Journey's Home > omalh epilogue

There was an odd sense of regret when Wylan finally put his last item of clothing into the bag. Six weeks he’d spent in Novyi Zem with Jesper and his father, and yet it had felt more like home then anywhere else.

More then the Slat, more then the boarding house, more then his father’s giant mansion for sure.

He found he didn’t want to leave, not yet.

Tagging some peeps with some pretty cool wips: @crowpricorn @darjeelinh @heypax @jackwolfes @littlelcvestory @mezlymils @sunfl8wer @thesacredlore @violets-and-books

[toesmoke]

sharing music with them

though wireless headphones are more convenient, they don't compare to the romantic gesture of sharing corded headphones with your crush or partner. how do you share your music with them (or vice versa)?

characters: venti, kazuha, thoma

warnings: none

notes: gn reader (you/yours). modern/college au. drabble/short writing format.

venti

Venti would call you over when he sees you across the walkway, propping himself up just enough to be able to wave in your direction. You thank your lucky stars that you don't have a class anytime soon, and you try to be as nonchalant as possible while you make your way over.

By the time you reach him, Venti is already lying back down, sprawled out in the grass. You gingerly sit down beside him and tuck your knees in towards your chest.

"Just the person I was hoping to see," he chirps up at you, eyes practically twinkling with excitement. "You know how I've been stuck on composing this next piece?"

"Yeah, I remember you mentioning that," you respond. "Did you finally make a breakthrough?"

"We-ell, not quite yet~. But I did have an idea!" As if he wasn't half-asleep in the grass mere seconds ago, he sits up and shoves his phone in your face. "I made a playlist for inspiration!"

Huh. That's actually a pretty good idea. "So what kind of music is on there?"

Venti giggles, and you wonder if any of the music he's picked out comes close to being so beautiful. "I could give you the artists, or... you could give it a listen!" It's then that you see the headphones lying in the grass, and he picks up one end of them and dangles it in front of you. "Whaddya say?"

kazuha

You spot Kazuha in the corner of the coffeeshop, absorbed in whatever he is typing on his laptop. So absorbed, in fact, that he startles a bit when you plop down next to him on the couch.

"Sorry," you chuckle, putting a hand on his shoulder to reassure him. He visibly relaxes at that, and he greets you with a gentle smile. "How long have you been here?"

"Let's see..." He blinks in mild surprise as he checks the time on his computer. "...5 hours?"

"Kazuha," you sigh, leaning over him to save the document before closing his laptop. "Midterms aren't for another week."

"That is true, but--"

"No buts. At least give your eyes a break from the screen, okay?"

He nods, but still seems anxious to get back to work. Instinctually, you pull out your phone and open your music app, bringing up one of your quieter indie playlists.

"Here." You hand him one half of your earbuds, and he looks like he's... amused? "I know, I know, I'm old school, just-- I thought you might like to listen with me."

"Why, my muse-- it'd be my honor."

thoma

When you walk into your shared living room, Thoma is sitting on the carpet. He has his phone in front of him, along with a page of handwritten notes. He's still aware enough to notice you walk in, though, and he smiles warmly at you as you sit beside him.

When you ask him what he's working on, he seems almost embarrassed. "You know that animal shelter I volunteer at? They're thinking of starting to play music for the dogs and cats for extra enrichment... so I volunteered to put together a playlist. Except... I'm having trouble deciding between some of these songs."

You have no idea how Thoma can be embarrassed-- and you are once again convinced that he is the perfect man. "Can I help? Not that I know for sure what animals like to listen to, but..."

Thoma perks up a bit at that, looking eternally grateful. "That'd be wonderful! Maybe we can test them out on Mochi afterwards."

"That cat sleeps so much, I doubt he'd hate anything we pick out." You shift closer until you're leaning against him, and he offers you one end of the headphones. "Anyways, let's hear what you have so far."

[babybearsnz]

Hello, again! Can I request a coffee shop au, where Sunghoon (Enhypen) works as a barista, but he has quiet sensitive nose, which makes other staff(members of a group) take care of him and coo:)

Having an itchy day

Sickie: Sunghoon

Caretakers: Jake and Jungwon

Relationships: Platonic

AU: Coffeeshop barista

Sunghoon’s pov:

I woke up to a faint buzzing sensation in my nose. Groaning, I reached over and stopped my alarm.

While getting ready for work, I had to keep pausing to rub at my itching nose. I recognized the feeling as my rhinitis acting up and I couldn’t stop sniffling. I blew my nose in hopes of relief, but my nose was too sensitive and irritated, causing the itch to momentarily get worse.

I stopped what I was doing, eyes closed, mouth agape, head tilted back. “haNGXTtchu! heNGXTtss!”

I felt my roommate place a comforting hand on my back. “Bless you, bless you.”

“Thanks, Jake.” I sniffled and cleared my throat.

Jake messed with my hair. “You alright?“ he asked.

I nodded. “Having an itchy day, I guess.” I rubbed at my nose and sighed.

“You’re okay, bud,” he cooed. “How about I give you a ride to work so you don’t have to walk. Don’t wanna be exposed to any extra pollen if you already feel like this.”

Jake pulled me into a quick hug before he let me finish preparing for the day.

********time skip********

As soon as I walked through the door of the cafe I was greeted by one of my coworkers.

“Morning, Sunghoon!” Jungwon yelled from behind the counter he was cleaning.

“Hey, Wonnie,” I replied and clocked in for my shift.

“Do you mind if I take care of a couple mobile orders?” He asked.

I nodded. “Sure thing,” I said and sniffled, “I can handle customers.”

Jungwon turned back around to face me and raised an eyebrow. I answered his question before he could ask it. “Just my rhinitis, I’ll be fine.”

He nodded and started brewing some espresso.

The bell on the front door rang and I got ready to put my costumer service voice to good use as a young lady approached my spot at the register.

“Hi, what can I get for you?”

She smiled. “Can I just have a large iced americano?”

I nodded and punched in the order. “Of course!”

She thanked me, paid, and sat down to wait.

While I was grinding the espresso beans, the strong scent made the tickle in my nose resurface. “haNGXT!” The sneeze was barely audible.

“Bless you” I heard from behind me.

I turned to see Heeseung and sniffled. “Thank you, hyung.”

When I was finished making the coffee I placed it at the end of the counter. “Iced americano,” I called. The customer thanked me once again and left.

“Sunghoon-ah,” Heeseung said. “Could you get the box of cups from the back for me?”

I nodded and went to fulfill his request.

The box in question was on a higher shelf and I had to go on my toes to reach it. When I got it down, I must have disturbed a layer of dust because I was hit with another itch in my nose at an alarming speed.

I quickly placed the box on the floor and cupped my hands over my face. “haNGXTtchiiew! huhNGXTaah! hahETCHhiii! ETCHhiii!” I groaned and let out a small cough, hearing frantic footsteps approach.

“Sunghoon?” Jungwon said, cringing at the sight of my situation. “Aish, what happened here?”

My breath was hitching like crazy. “Dust,” I managed before twisting to the side once more. “hATCHhiih!”

“Oh, Sunghoon, bless you.” He said and held both of my shoulders to stabilize me. “I’ll take this box to Heeseung-hyung. You should go home and rest.”

“I’m not sick,” I objected.

Jungwon picked up the box. “I know, but you’re gonna be tired and miserable if you have to work while handling allergies on top of your rhinitis.”

And with that, he left the room and I took out my phone to call Jake.

“What’s up, Sungie?” He answered.

I was starting to get congested from all of the sneezes. “Jake, can you come get me?”

He must have picked up on the sound of my voice because when he responded, he sounded worried. “Oh no, what’s wrong?” I heard him pick up his car keys.

“haESHhuhh! haETCHhiiew! So dusty,” I whined.

“Aw, ok, now you’re having an allergy attack too? I’m on my way.” I heard the door to his car close and hung up.

********time skip********

“hihNGXT! hehNGXTtchh!” I sneezed for the billionth time since I had gotten in the car.

Jake sighed. “Bless you.”

I hummed in acknowledgment.

When we finally got home, I headed straight for the couch.

“Here,” Jake said. “Take some meds. It might help a bit.” He handed me allergy tablets and a glass of water which I gratefully accepted.

“haKISHhoo!” Jake sat beside me and put an arm around me.

“Ah, bless you.” He stroked my arm up and down. I sniffled and rested my head on his shoulder, quickly having to turn away to sneeze again.

“You’re okay, just let it out.” Jake did his best to comfort me until the meds kicked in. I shut my eyes and leaned into him once again, dozing off before I knew it.

[crankycreates]

Untitled fic, a.k.a

"I AM NOT WRITING THIS GODDAMN COFFEESHOP AU" ~Cranky, 23-04-14

AO3 link

Pagan Min x gn!Reader 845 words Coffeeshop AU, barista!Reader, businessman!Pagan, flirting (sort of?), humour (or I tried at least), prologue to a story that may or may not get written...

“Shit!”

You stared at the plate. Or, well, ex-plate. It wasn’t really recognisable as kitchenware after hitting the floor. Pieces had skittered off across the tiles in every direction, like a very sad starburst, made out of shards of probably very expensive china. How the fuck could you be so clumsy? Mindlessly, you dove after the ex-plate, crawling madly around the floor, sweeping your hands over the tiles to gather up the remains before anyone arrived, uttering a string of curses.

“Fuck. Fuck! Shit shit fuck!”

“Such colourful language! Yet somewhat lacking in … vocabulary breadth.”

You whipped around — still on all fours — and were met by the sight of a pair of slightly worn but expensive-looking slippers. Above them, plaid pajama pants. And your eyes travelled up, and up, and past the pajama pants there was an expanse of skin that made your mind white-out for a moment before you took in the face above; its eyes twinkling with what might have been faint amusement. It was very hard to tell from this angle, especially since your mind suddenly snagged on a detail it overlooked before, and your eyes slipped down again — past the chest with its patch of dark hair and down the trail from his navel to the—

“Enjoying yourself down there, hm?”

You squeaked something. There were meant to be words in there but exactly what, you had no idea. You tried again: “I’m sorry— Uh— I broke this plate— I’ll pay for it, of course!”

Which was an utterly ridiculous thing to say to a billionaire. But you were feeling utterly ridiculous at the moment, so.

Pagan, mercifully, twitched his dressing gown closed, and settled back against the kitchen island behind him. Less mercifully, he said, “What if I told you that plate was worth a fortune?”

You stared up at him. Some part of you was a little bit grateful: now that you were blanching at the idea of owing Pagan Min money, you no longer had to worry about him noticing you blushing after having checked out the bulge in his pajamas. From the floor. On your knees.

Fuck.

Okay, alright, okay — backing up for a moment. How the ever-loving fuck had you ended up here?

You’d woken up early, alone in a guest room in Pagan Min’s house. Mansion. Estate? Whatever these things were called, this side of the pond. You’d been cranky and hungry and maybe a bit sad, and absolutely appalled at the notion of approaching the man about breakfast. Or, even worse, using the room phone to call ‘the help’. (’The help’ had been his word for it. He had servants. Fucking servants! In 2014! Jesus.) Like this was some sort of hotel.

So, you’d gotten out of bed and thrown on yesterday’s clothes and shuffled off in search of the kitchen. Or a kitchen, anyway. For all you knew there were more than one. And when you found one, you’d gone looking for a snack, and somehow—

Okay, but none of that explained how you ended up spending the night in Pagan’s guest room in the first place.

“Relax,” Pagan said, lips curving into an amused smirk. “I’m only teasing.”

“Yeah,” you said vacantly. You were still busy reviewing all the questionable life choices that had landed you in this mess.

He cocked his head. “You’re awfully high strung, aren’t you?”

“What?”

Wow. Seriously, smooth. Not like you had any particular hope to impress him or anything — that ship had long sailed, by this point. You felt rather like a stray he’d taken in for the night. Here’s how it happened: Pagan had found you crying outside the Golden Path Café. You were his favourite barista, so of course he would offer you a place to stay after you had been so callously evicted by—

Except that didn’t explain how you came to work at the Golden Path, or why he — the owner of King’s Coffee, the most popular chain of coffee shops in the United Kingdom — frequented the establishment of his competitors/sworn enemies.

“Come on, get up, kid. Can’t have you crawling around on the floor like this. Breakfast and Omelette might get jealous!”

He was smiling now — a nice, friendly smile — and offering you his hand. A perfectly gentlemanly gesture. A host attempting to put their guest at ease with an innocent joke and helping them off the goddamn floor. The way you stared, it might as well have been a tentacle he was holding out to you.

You said, “Uhh,” and took the proffered limb.

So anyway. This would in fact only be the first time Pagan Min rescued you from homelessness, and mortifying as the whole ordeal was, the next would be worse. Perhaps it could all have been avoided if you had come better prepared — if your mother had actually told you anything useful before she died.

Because in truth, for you, it all started with loss. With grief and ashes. With a promise to your dying mother: to bring her back to the UK, and to Lakshmana.

Read it on AO3

[theconstitutionisgayculture]

I know you make it a point to not get involved in fandom (esp. on this site) because it's not worth the inevitable drama but I just need to vent a little.

Yes. Tumblr is "the queer site" or whatever. Okay fine. I believe everyone should be free to enjoy their content however they want its whatever that's what tags are for etc etc. But within the only fandom i even sort of interact with here there's been a recent uptick in the bullying of people who don't push certain messages, politicks, or HC/Ships. So some of us thought we'd make things easier and try to make things calmer in the tags by making a discord dedicated to actual factual tolerance where everyone who wanted to join in could openly discuss what they do/don't like no judgement no strings no doxxing and no requirements for everyone to agree just freedom to have whatever opinions even those that don't necessarily match the majority. Yknow, so I don't have to be dogpiled for not liking the ultra popular coffeeshop au fic series or Adam B Example isn't getting crucified for not enjoying whatever ship.

But no. No this cannot be allowed. Clearly everyone in this server is a raging ist-o-phobic slur-slinging terrible-no-good-very-bad villain with a capital Evil. Look we have redacted (and faked, but how do you prove that) screenshots of them being vile nazis in their semi-private server! More cropped proof seen here where they got annoyed after my friends and i decided to brigade and troll their introductory room by spamming it with graphic imagery and childish namecalling! They banned the smurf accounts we made to do this with too see how hateful!

Sorry i know it's not your drama I just.

Ugh. Is it really that impossible for people to leave others alone? We're literally trying to give them all they space they want, none of us care or hate that the popular ship is popular or whatever their personal HC is abt X characters's sex life or any of that we just wanted to be able to freely chat about the franchise we love. And tired of being browbeaten and wanted to maybe make our own little space to do that.

Also wish these people could understand it is perfectly possible to be lgb et al and not like the current things '~Pride(tm)~' has going on these days. I know that's part of it. But demanding political conformity from people who just want to enjoy their hobby in peace is so so stupid but i can't articulate it in any way that people will listen.

If you don't mind, I would like to know what this fandom is so I don't accidentally become adjacent to it at any point.

But you're right to be upset by all this. These people have no lives and are bitter and hateful. I hope you don't let it ruin your enjoyment of The Thing or drive you and your friends to be silent about it. The only way to even begin taking fandom back is by ignoring this kind of shit and pushing through. I'm sorry you have to deal with immature little nothings who can't handle people enjoying fiction in ways they don't approve of.

[sherlockruiningmylife]

I think that at the moment I could come up with a merthur fic idea for just about any song. Every song I listen to at the moment becomes merthur coded to me.

Anyway though, I say this because I've got 2 songs currently stuck in my head as fics. The first is called Empress by Morningsiders.

For this song I imagine a modern day, maybe university au. Where Merlin and Arthur have been friends forever growing up and they room together at university, sharing an apartment. They go out on the weekends together, with regular friend dates at coffeeshops or movie theaters. They even go shopping for home decor much to Arthur's dismay. Throughout Arthur dates Gwen for a while, it started in high school, but eventually they meet Lancelot. Arthur and Gwen try so hard to make it work between them but they both know something is off, they just can't understand what.

When Arthur sees Gwen talking to Lancelot he realizes that he didn't really know what love was meant to look like. He loves Gwen, no question, but it's not that all consuming romantic soul bearing love that it should be. And its not the easy effortless love that it should be either. It's more of a love between friends. And he sees that, if he just let go, Gwen could find that with someone else, possibly Lancelot.

As Arthur comes to terms with the fact that he doesn't know how to love Gwen the way she deserves, Merlin pines over Arthur and slowly starts to pull away from him. It comes to a point, while Arthur and Gwen are still together, that Merlin realizes he's just hurting himself staying roommates with Arthur. He decides that he is going to move out. While Arthur is out on a date, Merlin packs a bag and goes to Gwaine's place to crash on his couch.

Arthur is out late on his date with Gwen. He had been nervous before the date like he hadn't been in ages. They go to dinner and chat as old friends would and it solidifies to Arthur that whatever passion they had, if they had any, is now gone. There is no animosity between them which makes it that much harder to tell Gwen why they should break up. Gwen, much to his surprise seems to understand. She looks at him sympathetically and wonders aloud why it took them this long, the signs had been there for at least a year. Arthur agrees, nodding along, until Gwen says something that stops him in his tracks.

"Have you told Merlin yet?"

Arthur puzzles and responds, "Er, no, why would I. This is our business not his, of course I'll tell him later that we've separated but no not yet."

"Oh." Gwen seems genuinely confused, "I didn't mean about breaking this off. I meant have you told Merlin about your feelings yet?"

Arthur continues to not understand and says so in as many words. Gwen sighs and mutters something about men and their emotional intelligence. Then she takes Arthur's hand and explains how she knew this was coming soon. That she had realized and tried to ignore for quite sometime that what Merlin and Arthur had was more of a relationship than the two of them had ever had. As she lays out all her observations, Arthur realizes she is right. That's what was missing, it was Merlin.

He stands up quickly from the table and drops a few bills to pay before saying goodbye as he runs out the door. When he makes it back home he hesitates, half hoping Merlin will just be asleep so that he doesn't have to admit his feelings just yet. But also wanting to see him, and hug him, kiss him even as he professes his newly realized feelings.

When he works up the courage to go inside, the place is silent. All lights are off and there isn't a single sound. Arthur calls out and there is no response so he knocks on Merlin's door. Opening it slightly he sees a neat, tidy, and more importantly empty bed.

Maybe Merlin is just out with some of their friends, Arthur rationalizes, he'll be back soon. So Arthur sits up for a couple hours waiting, but he grows restless. He'd already texted Merlin asking where he was at but didn't get a response, so now he tries texting both Gwaine and Lancelot.

To his surprise, Gwaine calls him immediately.

"Gwaine! Have you seen Merlin, he's not home and isn't responding to my texts and I'm a bit worried."

"What did you do this time princess?" Gwaine responds.

"Nothing! I swear, I was out on a date with Gwen is all and came back and Merlin's not here!"

"Ah."

"What? What does that mean, Gwaine, please tell me if you know where he is."

"He's at my place, crashing on the couch," Arthur hears an affronted yell in the background from Merlin, trying to get the phone away from Gwaine, Gwaine obviously gets the upper hand as he gets back on the line, "he wouldn't tell me what was going on so I just assumed you'd had some sort of tiff. But I see now why Merlin was sulking."

Arthur didn't really know what to make of whatever Gwaine seemed to be implying so he just said, "I'll be there soon." And hung up.

Arthur rushes over to Gwaine's and the man let him in. Merlin looks affronted at Arthur and complains that Arthur just has to go around rubbing it in, Arthur looks on confused. They wind up in a heated argument before Arthur finally breaks and admits, "I broke up with Gwen."

"What! You idiot, why would you!?"

"Because Merlin, I finally admitted to myself that we were holding each other back, and what's more she helped me realize how much of a complete and utter fool I've been."

"I'm not following you Arthur?"

"I-I, she helped me realize, that I'm in love with someone else, have been for a long time."

Merlin begins to shut down, angry at Arthur for telling him this, but then Arthur stops him and says, "she helped me realize what I've taken for granted, every coffee date and movie night, and cooking together in the kitchen. That love I've been trying to create had been right in front of me and I was a fool for, for loving her over... you."

[daedalusdavinci]

📓

Put “📓” or some other version of a book emoji into my inbox and I’ll explain the plot of a fanfiction that I haven’t written but daydream about.

ive spent a lot of time recently trying to remember the hs fics i always dreamed id write one day, but lost motivation for before i ever could. i feel like i used to have endless inspiration and i guess im hoping reflecting on that will help me reconnect with it now

i think i wanted to write a collegestuck fic, where dave and sollux were roommates and dave had a shitty job at a coffeeshop and that he swore was basically step one to becoming a dj because they had live music sometimes and thats *almost* a club (but he doesnt want to be a dj, bro was a dj, hes studying archaeology and hes never been happier and he spends too many hours bent over textbooks in the library with aradia just because he loves it, its everything he wanted when he was a kid and it feels like freedom in his hands, but jade asks him what he wants to be and he says the sickest dj there is, and college is just to tide him over until then, and john asks him what he wants to be and he says a director, so he can make movies even shittier than johns dumbass favorites, and rose asks him what he wants to be and he says solluxs sugar baby, because if you dont admit you want something its harder for people to take it from you)

i dont know what the ship wouldve been, im sure there were times where i was full on applebee2 to the end and times where it wouldve been dvekat and so on and so forth, but i know that dave moved across several states so he could go to school with his friends and i know that he and sollux were assigned to the same dorm and get along in the way that only two irritating nerdboys confined to one room can (which is to say that theyre besties and also they hate each other), because i feel very passionately about sollux and dave being friends just as much as dave and aradia being friends.

i think it would be funny if eridan was studying abroad and was one of those annoying europeans that cant go ten seconds without shitting on america (why are you here then, karkat asks him every ten seconds) and was generally just. literally so insufferable but also had no real idea what he wanted to do w his life so he was just majoring in business even tho he hated it (he switches to history, eventually, and is much happier for it), and i think he studies at daves coffeeshop and gets the kind of coffee that makes dave think hes a pretentious hipster (he is), only he doesnt actually do a lot of studying at all and spends most of his time checking out dave bc hes stupid, and instead of flirting with him he insults him constantly, bc hes stupid. dave literally hates him.

on the side i think id want to spend some time exploring dave reconnecting with rose as long lost siblings and john and jade navigating that weird space of "okay ive known you online forever but this is what knowing you in real life is like huh". i think id go jadrose for this au and emphasize jade having a very complicated relationship with romance bc who am i if i dont make someone aspec. john burns out bad towards the end of their first year and is in his depression era

but yeah. all that, i guess. i came up w a lot of ideas for college aus when i was finishing up community college bc i was so excited to get out and go to uni and so theres a lot of like, idea scraps floating around and maybe someday id like to do something with that, especially now that ive gone to uni and know what its actually like

[clethos]

day two of @mcyt-yuri-week! prompt is au/post-canon so i went with a classic coffeeshop au except kath is a monster hunting vigilante

fic under cut

Shelby really hates her job sometimes. The just-above-minimum-wage salary isn't quite worth the long hours and the occasional rude customer- but she's got to get by somehow , and they're the only ones who would even consider her after her disastrous stint at the Academy. The one that she's trying not to think about, actually.

So she grits her teeth and smiles wide and she just- keeps going.

Tonight, as usual, isn't too busy- although Evermoore Café is hardly bustling by day either. Its only claim to fame over the Critter City Bakery across the street is that it stays open all night, and even that is a questionable brag considering how few people are up at this time.

But, again- it's the only place that'd take her. And as a college dropout with no social life and a barely-there sleep schedule, it's not like she has anything better to spend her time on, besides obsessively poring over textbooks in the hopes that one day, maybe, the Academy might take her back.

Ha. Like that 'd ever happen. Stratos would freeze over before the Academy would ever deign to let Shelby set foot on campus again.

Okay, that's enough self-pity for the day , she thinks, shaking her head. Wallowing in sadness isn't going to help her situation. And neither will scrolling on her phone, but at least it won't make her feel like shit.

She opens her message app with all the bravery of a cow walking toward the chopping block, and is immediately confronted with dozens of notifications from Joey. Ugh . It's probably something stupid. With Joey it usually is, really-

Someone clears their throat, so unexpectedly and so close to her that she flinches. Her phone slips through her fingers and falls with a thump to the floor.

"Sorry!" Shelby says, quickly picking up her phone and tucking it into her pocket, an embarassed flush rising to her cheeks. "Uh, how can I help you?"

She looks up to see her customer and. Oh. Yeah, she's definitely blushing now.

The woman standing in front of her is tall and muscular, with black lipstick and a long scar across her nose and thick kohl smeared around her eyes. But the smile she offers Shelby is so sweet and genuine it makes her weak at the knees. She feels like she's about to cry.

Jesus, Berry. Get a grip.

"That's alright," the woman says politely. "Can I get- just a black coffee, please?"

"Sure." It's nice to get a break from 'golden caramel honey latte machiatto with two pumps of milk and one of sugar, hold the cream'; her memory's never been great. "That'll be 6.99."

The pretty lady doesn't even blink, just hands over a couple crumpled bills. Shelby turns on the coffee machine and, feeling brave, shoots her a grin. "Can I ask why you've got nothing better to do at-" she peeks at her watch- "1:15 in the morning than buy overpriced coffee?"

"Uh." The woman stutters a little. "I- I don't..."

Shelby, taking pity on her, asks, "Couldn't sleep?"

"Yes! Yes, that's it, that's exactly it. Sleep is for the weak, you know?"

"Sure," Shelby says. The machine beeps; in a few practised motions, she grabs a cup, fills it near to the top, and caps it. She spins it onto the counter with a risky little flourish that would have gotten her in trouble if her supervisor wasn't currently slumped over a table in the back room.

"Can I get a name?" she asks, taking a pen and fiddling with it. This part really isn't necessary right now, but- 

Yeah, Shelby does want to know more about this mystery whirlwind of a woman who swept into Evermoore Café in the middle of the night like something right out of a fairytale. Sue her.

"Katherine," the woman says, then immediately claps a hand over her mouth. "I mean- yeah. Katherine. That's me."

Shelby writes Katherine on the cup as neatly as she can. Their fingers brush when she hands her the coffee. And as Katherine takes the cup, wrapping her large, scarred hands around it, Shelby is hit with a sudden desperation- a need to keep her in the café, if only for a moment longer.

 "I haven't seen you around before," she offers, a lame attempt at keeping the conversation going.

"Oh, yeah, I'm from out of town. Just stopping by." Shelby's face falls, and Katherine must notice because she hurriedly adds, "I'll be back, though! Really soon, actually, I really like it here, I come to Evermoore every day- I mean, every night, for... reasons."

Shelby quirks an eyebrow, intrigued. "What reasons?"

"And," Katherine continues, tripping over her words with how fast she's talking, "this coffee is- so good. Just so good." She takes a sip, and her face immediately flickers through varying states of despair before settling on a slightly strained grin. "So good that I might come back here. Like, tomorrow night? Are you working here tomorrow?"

"Yeah! Yeah, I am." Shelby did not even know it was possible to feel such an immense joy at such a small thing. She really needs more friends.

"I'll see you tomorrow, then," Katherine calls over her shoulder. "Maybe then you could finally tell me your name."

Did she just wink at me?

Shelby watches, dumbstruck, as Katherine waltzes out and the bell on the door jingles and, a few minutes later, a 6.99$ coffee drops into a trash can somewhere.