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aakeysmash · 2 months

Text

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 3, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: cursing, maybe a little bit of suggestive language.

Word count: 2079 words.

Having Katsuki as a roommate proved to be not that bad. He was almost never home apart from most evenings, and when he was home, he minded his own business.

It’s not like he didn’t acknowledge you to be under his same roof, he was a decent guy, even if he swore a lot.

After sleeping in the guest room for a month, he painted it like he said he would at the beginning, and it took him 3 days. He had to sleep on the couch to not inhale the fumes, and you heard him cursing every morning.

“Can you keep it down? Jeez, it’s 7 am” you say coming out of your room, having heard the commotion in the living room.

“You have to change this shit of a couch. My back hurts so fucking much. My feet don’t even fucking stay on the couch while I sleep ‘cause of how fucking small it is” he barks at you.

“Not my fault you’re big” you say yawning, while rubbing your eyes and going straight towards the coffee machine. You hated having early lectures.

He scoffs. You widen your eyes, shooting him a mean look.

“I meant to say you’re tall” you add.

“Huh? And what would even be the other meaning? Freak” he says flipping you off and sitting himself at the table.

“Whatever” you mumble, putting your coffee in a cup.

“Give me some” he says stretching his hand.

“Make it yourself, big guy” you reply, sticking your tongue out and going towards your own room.

“OI! And here I was about to make you breakfast in exchange” he loudly says.

You turn around and smile at him sweetly. “Roomieeee you didn’t have toooo” you say, trying to hug him.

You know he hates physical contact. He told you so after you accidentally touched his hand passing him the salt one day at dinner. He jumped out of his chair like he was burned by your touch.

“GET OFF OF ME YOU GREMLIN!”.

Meanwhile, things at work could be going better. Your manager came back the day after your talk with Kirishima, and saying that she was pissed off and nervous at the same time would be an understatement.

For the weeks after, she was nicer than she ever was with the clients, but meaner with you and your colleagues. Bitch.

One day you’re cleaning the milk machine when Momo comes behind you.

“I heard the boss came to know about her little escapades and he wasn’t happy” she whispers in your ear.

You throw her a sneaky look before admitting “it might be my fault”.

Momo gasps. “What? Why haven’t you told me anything?” she whisper yells now.

“Shh! It happened last month. You know the guy with the spikey red hair?” you ask her, and she nods.

“Apparently, he’s the boss’s right hand. He told me the boss needed her and I told him she left” you calmly explain.

“I hope she doesn’t come to know it was you who told him that. She’s already making our life a living hell” she sighs.

“Whatever” you say rolling your eyes. “I’m clocking out, see you tomorrow?”.

“As always, babe”.

While you’re going out, you shoot a text to your new roommate. You’re feeling lazy, but you don’t want to feel lazy alone.

You: ordering takeout right now. Do you want something?

Katsuki (roommate): who dis

You: Katsuki are you for real?

You: I’m your roommate

You: you didn’t even save my number?

Katsuki (roommate): wtv

Katsuki (roommate): get me wings

Katsuki (roommate): extra spicy

You: sorry, who’s this???

Katsuki (roommate): petty bitch

Katsuki (roommate): im locking the door

You: I’m calling the firefighters down the street and you’re gonna pay for the new door then

Katsuki (roommate): just get me fkn wings woman

You roll your eyes. This man is insufferable.

“What are you doing Saturday night?” you say while munching on your chips on the couch.

Katsuki is cooking dinner for the both of you. He’s been living with you for the past 4 months now. You’ve grown accustomed to his antics, and he’s done the same with yours. For example, he knew how you tended to overcook his eggs. And since he hated that, he cooked them himself, just like he was doing right now.

“Hopefully not seeing your ugly face” he grumbles. He watches you over his shoulder and puckers his lips. “Why are you so fucking disgusting? I always find crumbs of everything on that fucking couch”.

You roll your eyes. “Just answer the question, Bakugou”.

“Not gonna be home. I have to run errands at work. You bringing some scum over? I’m not cleaning stains on top of your shitty crumbs on that couch”.

He’s not paying attention to what you do anymore, cutting up vegetables.

“And I’m the disgusting one? Ew” you cringe. “Ochaco and I wanted to have girl’s night. It’s been a while since we’ve done that, but her roommates are at home”.

“Short girl, brown hair, round face?” He asks.

“Yeah”. You’re surprised he remembers, but it’s true that you’re basically always calling her.

“Don’t mind. When’s your next shift? You’re next on the “cleaning the bathroom” list”. He adds.

You barely ever talk about work: he said that he’s some type of accountant and he knows you’re some kind of barista. After all, you both don’t care about what the other does if you both still pay rent on time.

You like these little moments you have with him. They don’t happen that often, but it’s like you’re bonding over time. He doesn’t look like he thinks the same, though. Most of the time he voices that you’re “pissing him the fuck off with all your stupid fucking questions”.

“Tomorrow morning, and then on Sunday. It’s weird now that my ex-manager isn’t around anymore, our schedules are much more organised. I wonder why she got fired” you say thoughtful.

Katsuki stiffens up. Your manager has been fired the same week he fired Camie? Must be a coincidence, a lot of extras are shitty workers anyways. He shrugs it off.

He turns abruptly to face you and he scares you so bad you throw the chips in the bowl lying on your lap on your face. He laughs like a maniac.

“Why did you do that?! I get it, you’re a clean freak! Okay! I’ll clean the damn bathroom!” You angrily say.

“Curry is ready, rat” he says, wiping his tears.

“Great, now I’m a rat too?”. Katsuki has this bad habit of always forgetting names and just giving everyone mean nicknames.

“With all those cheese chips on your face? Yes, dumbass” and he starts laughing again.

“It’s all your fault!” you whine, and then help him set the table. You might be annoyed, but you know his curry is bomb.

You’re so happy to be free from Camie’s claws that you and Ochaco drink more than you normally do on Saturday night.

You’re both lying lazily on your bed when she’s telling you about her new boyfriend. He’s the same guy from that one physics assignment (which, by the way, you didn��t fail), and she calls him Deku.

“I swear you’d like him Y/N. He’s so shy, but his arms are so biteable” she dreamily sighs.

You look up at the ceiling before answering “and what’s the correlation between any of the statements you just made?”.

She throws you a punch. “Why are you lucid still? Just… blabber!” she complains.

You chuckle. “I’m so getting an aspirin for tomorrow morning, for both me and you. Just go under the covers and sleep while I’m gone, okay?”.

She nods and you stand up, wobbling towards your kitchen.

“You know, you still haven’t delved into how good or bad things are going with your new roommate” she suddenly says. “You know I need the details”.

You lean on the wall next to your door for some stability before thinking about it.

“He’s good, I guess. We talk here and there when we’re both home, he told me he’s enrolled in economy. He seems rough but he knows how to cook some bomb ass curry, so I’ll keep him” you sluggishly reply. Damn, you really drank too much.

“Yeah Y/N you’ve told me this much. But do you find him hot? Did any of you just enter the bathroom not knowing the other was in it?” your best friend mumbles.

“He locks the door before doing anything” you roll your eyes, then wince because it has hurt your head.

“He’s mean, but he takes the time to be a good roommate I guess? I’d like to know him more than he lets others know, yeah, but he’s not very talkative. To be honest, I think that he’s scared to let people in. I’m probably too invasive for him” you ramble on.

“Did you even hear what I said?” you ask after the silence stretches too long, but the only things replying to your question are your best friend’s snores.

You sigh, then continue going to your kitchen.

It takes a while for you to find the medicine, and when you do, you hear your front door being opened.

With your mind still hazy, you recognise Katsuki’s figure.

“Hi” you tell him.

“Hello? God, you reek. You’re becoming a rat more and more each day” he roughly says while getting his coat off and on the hanger.

“How was work?” you continue, ignoring his comment.

He looks you up and down. He thinks you look kinda cute with your cheeks tinted pink and your hair ruffled, but he’s really tired. “Good, mind your fucking business though. I’m gonna sleep”.

You look hurt for a second, then relax your features. He always answers this way.

You take a good look at him. The light that enters from the window behind your couch makes his face barely visible; with the moonlight as your only aid, you take a moment longer than usual to just stare at him. Broad, blonde, big shoulders, a light scowl on his face, red eyes that seem to follow your every move. Maybe, in his next life, he could be a hero.

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, really pretty?” you stumble out.

He looks at you like you’ve just said the dumbest thing ever.

“What the fuck are you saying? Just let me go to sleep and go do whatever the fuck you were doing before”.

“I said you look really fucking hot, Katsuki” you repeat, kind of annoyed. “It’s not like I asked you to cut your hand and offer your blood for a sacrifice, fuck. Why do you have to be so rude?” you spit out.

He’s surprised. “That’s not the words you used the first time. Pretty and hot don’t mean the same thing” he says, faking that he hasn’t heard your outburst, while stepping closer to you.

“Whatever” you mumble.

He stops in front of you. Maybe he’s been kind of rude lately because the situation at work hasn’t been the best. He fired Camie because he repeatedly heard she wasn’t capable of doing anything good on top of being mean to her colleagues, but finding another manager was stressing him out. He wanted to fire her as soon as he came to know her behaviour the first time, but Kirishima said neither of them had enough time to deal with her father. As much as this infuriated him, he was right. They were in their last year, and university wasn’t gonna finish itself.

You’re looking up at him with a scowl. “Let’s both go to sleep, m’kay? You don’t know what you’re saying” he says, nicer than any other time he talked to you. In the back of your mind, you notice he isn’t cursing anymore.

You keep on mumbling something and almost trip on your feet trying to get to your room.

You’re about to fall when he picks you up bridal style and goes to get you in your room himself.

Just before you fall asleep in his arms (how strong is he? He’s not even straining) you put your head on his shoulder.

“Thanks, sorry, I’m really drunk. I didn’t want to invade your privacy” you say.

He just shushes you up before telling you to sleep.

And just before you pass out, you notice he smells faintly like coffee.

#bakugo katuski #bakugou katsuki #bnha #bakugo x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bakugo fluff #mha bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou fic #bakugo x you #bakugo x y/n #and they were roommates #barista au

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chakkll · 6 months

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Lucky Day

Mike Schmidt x gender neutral!reader

Fandom: Five Nights at Freddy’s

Synopsis: A certain exhausted customer hasn’t failed to order a coffee every morning ever since the cafe opened up two months ago. Today, however, he seems much more stressed than usual.

Warnings: pre-movie, fluff

Word count: 1k

“Mama! Look, look, I even got the receipt!”

You smile as the little girl who just ordered a hot chocolate skitters over to her mother with a proud smile.

Warm sunlight shines through the windows of the cafe, illuminating the dark oak tables lined by the walls decorated with paintings and drawings by little kids.

You’ve loved working here, even though the place hasn’t been open very long. The atmosphere never fails to calm you.

The line is empty once again, so you turn to your coworker and friend, Candace, about to start a small conversation until you hear the front door’s bell jingle.

You look over to the door, readying your work smile, until you see who it is.

There he is. Right on schedule.

A genuine smile creeps onto your face.

Ever since the cafe you work at—Cora’s Coffee—opened two months ago, the same worn-out yet handsome customer hasn’t failed to show up every morning at 9am for a coffee.

And in Mike walks, this time sporting dark circles under his eyes.

He walks past the little girl clutching the receipt next to her mother and right up to you.

“Hey,” he breathes.

“Black coffee, a quarter cup of half and half, and one spoonful of sugar?”

Mike blinks, staring at you blankly until the ghost of a smile appears on his face.

“Yep.”

But his response doesn’t matter, because you’re already writing down the order and handing it to Candace.

“You look tired,” You observe as you put his order into the cash register. Mike sighs and offers a weak shrug.

“Up late job hunting.” Is all he says in response, causing you to glance up to him.

Somehow he looks even more sleep deprived than normal. …Still handsome, though.

You can feel your cheeks warm slightly at the thought, but you brush it off.

“Job hunting? I thought you were just hired somewhere?” You frown.

“Yeah, so did I.”

You sigh softly as Mike takes out a 10 dollar bill to pay, but you wave him off. He stares at you in confusion.

“On the house.”

Mike blinks, staring at you quizzically. “…Won’t your boss be upset?”

You shrug. “She can take it off my pay.”

Mike’s stare doesn’t let up, and it’s starting to make you a little self-conscious.

“What? Never heard of a little act of kindness?” You huff as you hide your face behind the cash register, acting like you’re busy to try and hide the small blush on your cheeks.

You can hear a small chuckle, causing your eyes to widen. You look up from behind the cash register to see a small smile gracing Mike’s lips.

“Thanks.”

You shrug, causing him to chuckle once again.

“…You remind me of my sister.” You hear Mike mutter softly. Looking up, you see a sad glint in his eye. His smile is gone.

“Your sister?” Mike looks at you, and you can tell he’s a little surprised you heard him.

“…Yeah,” When you don’t say anything, he sighs and continues. “She’s younger than me. 10 years old.”

You blink. “I remind you of a 10 year old? Gee, thanks.” Mike snorts.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way. You’re just… I don’t know, you remind me of her.”

You smile. Just as you’re about to say something, you feel someone elbow your side. It’s Candace, handing you Mike’s coffee.

You frown in confusion, as it’s not your job to give customers their drinks. Candace motions for you to read the cap of the cup.

You read it, and clearly written on the cap is:

look on the bottom of the cup for a surprise!

Candace’s handwriting.

You glance at her suspiciously before looking to Mike. “Excuse me for a moment.”

Mike shrugs and you step farther behind the counter, peering at the coffee cup curiously. You glance up at Candace who’s taking a customer’s order, but she shoots you a cheeky smile.

You sigh and carefully raise the coffee cup above your head. On the very bottom of the cup reads:

Hey! In case you wanna hang out, here’s my number: xxx-xxx-xxxx

- (Name) :)

Your jaw clenches in embarrassment.

“Candace—“

You look up, only to see that where Candace was standing is now your other coworker, Benjamin. He seems just as confused as you.

You grumble and screw the top back on.

Glancing up at Mike, you just now realize how long he’s been waiting for his coffee—this and chatting with you probably took up a lot of his time, as he’s almost always in and out.

You purse your lips as you glance down to the cup of coffee and back up at Mike. He chews on his fingernail, uninterested, as the sunlight now shines on him. The tips of his dark curls shine a nice golden brown.

Feeling bad that you’ve made him wait so long, you decide to replace the cap of the cup with a different one that has no writing on it.

Screwing the cap on, you walk back to your place at the cash register.

“Mike!”

Mike looks up and walks over. He takes the cup from your hands.

“I can pay.”

“Nope.”

“You sure?”

“Yep.”

Mike sighs, shaking his head with a small smile on his face.

“Thanks again.”

You smile and wave as he turns to the door. He sends you a wave over his shoulder, and with a jingle, he’s gone.

Two hours later…

You yawn, stretching your arms over your head as you walk out of the cafe. The bell bids you goodbye with a cheerful chime, and you walk down the street to a cheerful beat. You reach into your back pocket and pull out your phone.

Opening the settings, you turn off Do Not Disturb, only to see you’ve gotten seventeen texts.

You open up Messages, seeing most of the notifications were from a group chat with a few of your friends.

However, you have one text from an unknown number.

You curiously click on the text, only for it to read:

<9:36am>

hey, this is mike. i’m free on weekends if the offer to hang out is still available?

Your eyes widen and you read over the text at least three more times before you’ve finally processed it.

Mike Schmidt wants to hang out with you?

This must be your lucky day.

#fanfic #imagine #fanfiction #fnaf #fnaf movie #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x reader #fluff #strangers to lovers #barista #coffee #cute #short but sweet

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doumadono · 1 month

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Hello, hello, I'm so so happy for you ❤️ And I'm glad I'm able to celebrate your milestone with you 🎊

As for the request, I want a cone with a little scoop of mint-vanilla ice creams topped with maple syrup! I want to ask for a coffee shop quirkless au with Bakugo

A/N: thank you so much, sweetie! Your support means everything ♥

5k FOLLOWERS EVENT MASTERLIST MY HERO ACADEMIA

Every time you walk into the coffee shop where Bakugo works, he feels a rush of excitement. Your presence brightens his day, and he can't help but smile when he sees you.

He'd always notice you from afar, your gentle demeanor standing out amidst the hustle and bustle of the café. As you approached the counter, he'd feel a strange flutter in his chest, something he couldn't quite explain.

You always order the same thing: a large cappuccino and a carrot pie. Bakugo has memorized it by heart.

You have a habit of sitting in the same corner of the café, studying while enjoying your coffee and pie. As you settle down with your books and papers, Bakugo can't help but steal glances at you while he works behind the counter. Your dedication to your studies impresses him, and he secretly admires your focus.

Your voice, when you place your order, is like a soothing melody to Bakugo's ears. It cuts through the noise of the bustling coffee shop and calms the storm raging inside him. He finds himself looking forward to those brief exchanges more than he cares to admit.

Sometimes, when the shop isn't too busy, you engage in small talk with Bakugo as he prepares your order. It's nothing more than idle chitchat, but to Bakugo, it's a precious moment of connection amidst the chaos of his daily routine.

Despite being just a customer, you have a special place in Bakugo's heart. He cherishes the little interactions you have when you place your order, relishing the chance to exchange small talk with you.

On one particularly hectic day, as Bakugo prepares your usual order, he catches himself stealing more glances than usual. The sight of you engrossed in your studies, a faint furrow between your brows, stirs something within him.

"Here's your cappuccino and carrot pie," Bakugo says, his tone softer than usual as he hands you your order.

You look up, meeting his gaze with a smile. "Thank you. You always make the best cappuccinos."

His heart skips a beat at the sound of his name on your lips. "Yeah, well, it's my specialty," he replies, trying to sound nonchalant despite the warmth spreading through his chest. He's puzzled. What's going on with him?!

Later that day, as you're about to leave, Bakugo gathers his courage and stops you. Summoning every last ounce of courage, he clears his throat and takes a deep breath, approaching you. "Hey, before you go, I was wondering if I could ask you something," he begins, his heart pounding in his chest.

You raise an eyebrow, curiosity shining in your eyes. "Of course," you reply, your smile encouraging him to continue.

Bakugo takes a moment to gather his thoughts, then blurts out the words that have been on his mind for weeks. "May I have your name?"

You turn to him with a smile, and your eyes sparkle with warmth. "It's Y/N," you reply sweetly, offering him a smile. "And yours?"

"It's Katsuki," he tells you with a little smile dancing in the corners of his mouth. "You have a very pretty name. It's nice to finally know who I'm making all these cappuccinos for," he jokes, a genuine smile gracing his slightly chapped lips.

You chuckle softly, slowly packing your things.

"Well, Y/N, would you like to grab a coffee with me sometime?" He asks before reining in his boldness.

You pause packing your books into your bag and gaze at his face for a moment, staying quiet.

Bakugo feels his cheeks flush beet red and his heart race. Why is he acting like this around you?!

Finally, you nod, smirking slightly. "Do you like manga?" you ask instead, catching him off guard.

Bakugo nods. "Yeah, I do, especially something with some decent action."

"So I'd love to chat about the new "Chainsaw man" issue over a cup of cappuccino," you reply, grinning. "How about tomorrow after your shift? What time do you finish?"

He tells you when he finishes his shift, and you bid farewell to him before leaving the cafe.

Bakugo can hardly believe his luck. Not only does he finally know your name, but he also has the opportunity to see you again tomorrow, and on a private level this time! He realizes that he wouldn't have it any other way.

#bakugou x reader #bakugo x you #bakugo x reader #bakugou x you #katsuki x reader #katsuki x y/n #bakugou x y/n #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #bakugo headcanons #bakugou headcanons #bakugo angst #mha headcanons #barista bakugo #katsuki bakugou #bakugo x y/n

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inf3ct3dd · 8 months

Text

HOT TO GO!

warnings: gay ppl (ewwww omg 🙄🙄)

authors note: im a sucker for a barista au, what can i say 😕 also im obsessed w this song rn

5,6,5-6-7-8!

you started prepping the coffee beans, pouring them into a large class container while you moved your head back and forth, music blasting through your headphones.

you loved working the opening shift. most people definitely would not, but giving that you had an insane sleep schedule and were already awake at 4am, you decided to take it.

your favorite part? you worked by yourself.

you had always loved doing weird shit in your room. acting out fake scenarios, having fake concerts, dancing around to music, girly shit!!! but having a roommate, a very reserved quiet girl named amy who went to sleep at 9pm every night (weirdoooo…) you didn’t have very much…freedom.

but the opening shift? you could be as weird as you wanted to. it was basically like your room, if your room was a coffee shop.

you walked into the supply room, still dancing around to your music. you were grabbing random milks and flavorings to bring back to the front, when you started singing into one of the milk containers as you walked back.

you set it down in its proper place, now spinning yourself around and checking that everything was in its place. you bounced on your feet, music still blaring in your ears.

“H-O-T-T-O-G-O U CAN TAKE ME HOT TO GO!”

you suddenly had a background in cheer, singing along to the chant in the song and shaping your arms into the letters, adding in your own random choreography you made up.

you look at the clock, reading [4:45 AM], indicating you’ll be opening soon.

most people didn’t show up til at least 5:30, so you knew you had nothing to worry about, deciding to make yourself a drink.

well, what you cant see cant hurt you, right?

a girl approached the glass entrance of the coffee shop, stopping to read the hours.

you were still lost in your own world, mixing your chai latte while dancing and singing behind the counter. you were very into it, committing to the fake choreo you made yourself for the chorus. you mixed your chai and oat milk together, shaking them in the mixing cup while moving your hips back and forth and switching sides with the cup you were shaking.

the girl quickly noticed you, and a smile crept onto her face as she watched you move around. you didn’t notice her at all, still lost in your musical barista-ing.

you effortlessly scooped some ice into your cup, pouring the latte over it and putting a cap on. you’re moving in an almost perfect rhythm, your movements matching the beats of the song. a cheesy smile is plastered as you finish, drawing a smiley-face on your cup before taking a sip.

you look up to the clock, seeing its now 5:00, and you have to move the “open” sign. you take a sip of your drink first, closing your eyes in contentment as you taste it.

“perfect!”

the girl is still looking at you through the glass, enamored by how happy you are at 5 in the morning. you completely contrasted her. your bright sweater under your overalls, curls pulled up into a high ponytail, and glasses now sitting low on your nose seemed to fit your personality (or her rough impression of it from staring at you for five minutes) perfectly. she almost wishes you don’t notice her, you seem so in your element.

her wishes are not obeyed, as you look over at the door and lock eyes with her almost immediately, slightly jumping at her sudden presence and the fact that she was most definitely staring at you.

how long has she been there….

you lower your headphones onto your neck, music still leaking through.

you look at the girl for a second, taking in her features (or what you can see from across the cafe), and the main note you got was gay.

and kinda hot.

she had redish-brown hair, cut into a mullet stopping at the bottom of her neck. her jade-green eyes were staring right at you, and they perfectly complimented the brown freckles adorning her face. she had layered a dark grey long sleeve with a black band tee, with a pair of greyish-blue jeans and some seriously fucked up converse.

you quickly snap out of your daze, setting your drink down and walking over to the door. you flip the open sign over so it reveals the “open” side to the people entering, and unlock the door for the girl.

“sorry for the uh…wait? i dunno how long you were out there.”

she lightly giggles before walking into the store.

“yeah, you seemed like you were having a good time.”

you offer a laugh in response, walking behind the order counter.

she definitely saw me.

“you know what you want?”

you slightly wince at your words, feeling not very customer-service-y. your nerves were getting the best of you.

“hm…i dunno, whats that?”

ellie gestures towards your drink.

“my favorite! its just a chai latte, but i put oat milk and brown sugar syrup!”

you smile, content with your reply. it clearly rubs off on the brunette, as she smiles back at you.

“does it come with a performance?”

you roll your eyes at her response, laughing slightly.

“nah, gotta pay extra for that.”

you type her order into the cashier, still smiling.

“how much?” she jokingly asks, making the both of you giggle.

you look down at her hands on the counter , fingers slightly tapping it, the sound of her silver rings hitting it quietly repeating.

those are some homosexual hands.

“can i get that hot though? my professors classroom’s fuckin freezing.”

you laugh again, giving her a nod and changing the order in the system.

“is that it, window stalker?”

she chuckles at you.

“should be, twinkle toes.”

you roll your eyes at her, grabbing a cup and your pen.

“you got a real name, or should i just put that?”

“ellie. do you have a real name?”

you give her your name, writing hers down on the cup, along with a heart and some sparkles.

she repeats your name, nodding before paying and leaning on the counter of the pickup area.

you make her drink, still moving around a bit as you make it. you cant help it!!! you’re happyyyy :))

ellies really taking the stalker thing to heart, trying her hardest not to stare. but she CANT, you just look too perfect to not admire. shes never seen someone this giddy at work.

you decide to make a simple heart design with the milk, expertly pouring it into a perfect shape.

you proudly walk over to the pickup area, setting the drink down in front of you.

“here.”

you slide the drink in front of her, a proud smile plastered on your face.

she stares at the drink, face practically lighting up.

“wow, all this for me?”

she says, fake shocked.

a heart? is this how baristas flirt?

“cute drink for a cute girl.”

you look back at her, and see her features overcome by a slight red tint.

she smiles back at you, taking the cup into her hands and turning it over to see her name on the side, adorned with hearts and sparkles. adorable.

without a second thought you walk over to your cashier station. ellies shocked by your sudden disappearance, and slightly disappointed. but she cheers up when she sees you’re writing something down.

you walk back over to her, number in hand, and a cheesy grin on your face.

“here. so you don’t have to sit outside and stare at me anymore.”

she graciously accepts the paper, putting it in her pocket.

“who said this is gonna stop me? i enjoyed the show.”

#ellie x reader #ellie williams x reader #ellie x y/n #ellie williams x you #ellie williams #ellie tlou #ellie the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou x reader #gay ppl #barista #fluff :))#sierra being sappy #oneshot #ellie williams fanfic

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ghost-proofbaby · 9 months

Text

FIRST IMPRESSIONS (a barista!eddie x barista!reader au)

summary: eddie faces the perils of being a coffee shop opener, and meets you. you, who's so damn optimistic it should be annoying. you, who makes the job that has given him trouble seem like a cake walk. you, who seemingly bleeds sunshine. god, he should really hate you.

warnings: TWO uses of "y/n", fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns), PHYSICAL descriptors used for reader (she has a nose ring and a septum piercing! that's all), eddie is just a bitter and grumpy idiot.

wc: 5.2k

a/n: i apologize in advance for all the technical 'barista' talk in reference to positions. i tried to elaborate on a few of them, haha. also... yes. i gave reader two nose piercings. it's definitely not even more self-projection psh. (because i have three)

the full menu

Eddie Munson is not a morning person.

So, why, for the life of him, he ended up as an opener, he couldn’t tell you.

It had been a snowball effect. He got tired of working odd jobs here and there to produce enough cash to slip Wayne for bills, decided the quick change made off of fixing up neighbors’ cars or mowing lawns just wasn’t cutting it for his desired spending habits. He was tired of being so restricted by his misfortune; he was tired of watching Wayne pull long shifts only to continue living paycheck to paycheck. He was tired of his friends like Harrington and Buckley having money from their part time gig at the movie store to freely agree to impromptu late nights at Benny’s or seeing the latest slasher films in the theater as they premiered while he had to deliberate over counting change to see if he even had the funds to join in. He was tired of eyeing that guitar in the mall and constantly telling himself one day.

Eddie Munson had been tired. But now, as he forced himself awake most mornings before the sun even rose, he was exhausted.

Originally, he’d wanted to be a closer. He didn’t mind being the clean up crew, having to spend late nights in a coffee shop sweeping up grounds and scrubbing away the stickiness of the day. But then the hiring manager that interviewed him had hinted towards the fact that their store already had enough closers when he’d spotted Eddie’s availability, made a few off comments about how what they really needed was a couple brave souls to take over opening shift, and that tiresome cycle rang in Eddie’s ears. Before he even had the chance to think it through, in his desperation, he’d insisted that oh, actually, my availability is completely open. I don’t mind working earlier than that.

What bullshit. Eddie definitely minded working earlier than that. He more than minded it — he loathed it.

Long story short, it had been a series of unfortunate events that led Eddie to where he was now. In his van, fifteen minutes early, staring out at a parking lot bathed in the lingering night as he fought to keep his eyes open.

The clock on his dash read 4:46 in a taunting blink, flickering against his bleary eyesight and making him question every decision in his life that had led him here. Adjusting to the new job had been easy enough — his trainer was nice enough, learning how to make drinks and what routines were required in the morning had been meticulous but rewarding — except for the time. It wasn’t just his start time that tortured him vehemently; shifts seem to pass miserably slow, the seconds dragging their feet in no hurry to get anywhere in particular. The clock didn’t care if Eddie yearned for his bed and a few extra hours of sleep gifted by a nap. Traffic didn’t either, when he’d hit the highways and catch just the beginnings or the tail end of the morning rush.

You’d think he’d complain more about the commute. But the gas spent on the twenty minute drive to the town over was the least of his concerns.

“Fuckin’ John,” Eddie mutters when a large truck pulls up to the drive thru, a notable regular he’d begun to recognize after not even a month of working there. They had just recently changed their opening time (they used to open an hour earlier, his manager had informed him. Eddie had nearly burst into grateful tears that he’d never experienced that crime of humanity.)

None of his coworkers had arrived yet. Most lived closer, able to garner extra snoozes on their alarms and shorter drives of contemplation. Eddie only ever envied them on mornings like today.

“We don’t open for, like, another forty minutes, asshole,” Eddie curses out loud to himself, counting down the time until John gives up and drives away. The man would just circle the store like a vulture anyways. He always did; he always had to be the first customer, grabbing his ridiculous coffee order before scurrying off to play cards at the casino, “How do you come here every fuckin’ day and not know that?”

It took the older man a full four minutes before he finally roughly shifted his truck back into drive, being the farthest thing from gentle as he hit his gas and jerked his vehicle out of the drive thru line. Eddie couldn’t see him clearly through the stubborn darkness, but he could easily imagine that look of irritation at not receiving the caramel frappucino with a quad shot that he seemed to feel entitled to.

God, that man was a dick.

Eddie nearly misses another coworker pulling up to park beside him during the spectacle.

By this point, he’s learned what cars all his coworkers drive.

Carmen, the fellow barista who had trained him but he now rarely worked with due to her availability being a bit later in the day, drove a bright red 2012 Kia Soul that had certainly seen better days. Nicole, one of the shift leads he worked with often during his opens, drove a small and silver Nissan Versa. The year is lost on him, but he’s willing to bet it was a few years old at this point. James, another shift lead who went by Jamie and never had much to say, drove a Volkswagen that looked to be straight out of the 70s. And that was just the beginning, the ones he could think of off the top of his head while he was still waking up inside his van.

The car parked beside him wasn’t any of these. He didn’t recognize it at first glance, and found himself doing a double take as his face scrunched up.

A Jeep. A two-door Jeep Wrangler with vibrant, chipped yellow paint now sat idle beside him.

Who the fuck drove a yellow Jeep?

He can’t even bother to be annoyed or fatigued anymore with the mystery presently before him. He can’t see through the tint of the windows, can’t make out the silhouette of who it was. He was well aware that he hadn’t been acquainted with all of his coworkers quite yet – there was a plethora of baristas in the store he’d only heard spoken of in passing rather than properly meeting – but it had seemed like the people who opened always came from the same rotation of sorry suckers.

Nicole’s car pulls up. So whoever drove the Jeep was not one of the shift leads.

Five minutes to 5:00 AM, Nicole’s car door opens first and Eddie can hear the Jeep’s engine kill. He’s quick to fumble with his own keys, pulling them from the ignition in a haste and throwing a hand out to blindly grab his apron from his passenger seat.

A deep shade of green. Everyone had one or two of them laying around, and they were the root of the nickname for all new hires: green beans. He had just finally gotten the one embroidered with his name a little over a week ago, and his manager had apologized profusely as she swore it usually didn’t take that long.

Eddie really didn’t care. The moment he started wearing the apron with his name on it, customers had taken to randomly addressing him by it, and it made him fucking uncomfortable.

“Rise and shine, campers!” Nicole’s voice echoes through the parking lot the moment all three openers are out of their cars.

Eddie doesn’t answer at first (which isn’t unusual; Nicole was used to his ever-present sleep-deprivation induced silence). He’s too busy nearly tripping over himself as his eyes stay glued on that Jeep, on the door that swings wide open roughly from two parking spaces away as he waits with bated breath.

Would this new coworker he was about to meet even like him?

“God, Nicky,” a new voice groans – a girl’s voice.

Ah, fuck.

Eddie had noticed the mysterious phenomenon of the way everyone who worked here seemed to be attractive to some extent. Nice on the eyes, always smiling and always flirting in a friendly manner to garner more tips. He’d had plenty of bisexual panics in the bathroom anytime one of his coworkers extended that friendly flirtation his way. All the fellow guys (as few as there were) and all the confident girls he’d been in the trenches with – it didn’t matter, they all affected him.

Hawkins didn’t have nearly as many pretty people. Eddie sort of felt cheated for having lived a mere twenty minutes from a goldmine of such people for so long, completely unaware. But he also felt sort of relieved, knowing that if he were still a teenager barely scraping by in high school, this coffee shop would have been his downfall with awkward stumbles and feelings caught from all those faux smiles and joking winks that his now coworkers laid on heavy with their regulars.

With this in mind, he doesn’t know why he wasn’t prepared for when you stepped out of the Jeep. Slamming the door shut behind you, your arms were full with an apron that was definitely not green, along with an oversized water bottle and what he thinks is either a cardigan or jacket. A tote bag slung over your shoulder looked to be stuffed full as well. You were a walking cliche for the type of person that people would expect to work at a coffee shop. The type of person that embodied all those jokes of if an alternative person isn’t making my coffee, it’s not going to taste good.

Eddie should know; he’d been the butt of many of those style of jokes given that he also fit into that category. With his long hair, with his sparse tattoos, with his new nose ring – he knew he was as much of a cliche as you were.

Didn’t stop him from staring at you, suddenly wide awake.

“Aren’t you just a ray of sunshine?” Nicole jokes as she rounds the front of your Jeep, stopping and looking between you and Eddie before she says to you, “You’d think after a month’s vacation you’d be happier to see me.”

You take two steps forward, lining up right between Eddie and Nicole, and suddenly contort your face to be such an over-exaggerated smile that it’s nearly a grimace. Eddie is so caught up in the scrunch of your nose, he nearly misses the way you grit out a sarcastic “Better?” from between your teeth.

“Oh, that’s the winner,” Nicole cackles, keys jangling as she shakes them and leads the two of you towards the front of the store. Over her shoulder, she continues to joke, “Keep on smiling like that, and I sense a twenty dollar tip in our future.”

Eddie still hasn’t said a word. What is he supposed to say? All he can do is trail slightly behind you, doing everything in his power to not let his eyes roam over your legs or backside. You were just wearing black jeans, in line with the same dress-code everyone else followed, but they were doing you favors.

“Y’know, I think I already saw John’s truck this morning,” your voice was surprisingly pleasant despite the insinuation Nicole had made that your first impression should be grumpy. Far less gritty than Eddie’s would have been had he spoken up, “Think I can sweet talk that out of him? Maybe I’ll ask about his wife. Or- Oh!” you exclaim, bursting with sudden energy that should give Eddie a headache this early, “Put me on bar! I’ll douse his drink in caramel how he likes, that’s sure to tug on his wallet- Sorry, I mean heart-strings.”

Nicole continues to laugh as she fumbles with unlocking the door, and it’s not lost on Eddie that he has never made any of the fellow baristas laugh like that. Although, to be fair, he has never been quite as enthusiastic as you. He didn’t seemingly bleed sunshine like you. Here the three of you were, outside in the dusky beginnings of a morning, and he could have sworn that the sun had already risen from the light that seemed to emit from you.

It should have made him nauseated. It kind of did, actually.

You turn suddenly, just as Nicole finally turns the lock, and face him. Your smile is subtle, eyes so wide he wouldn’t notice the bags even if you had any. “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

You stick your hand out and he can see you sticky with it – with hopefulness, with friendliness, with kindness. His stomach churns.

Nope. Not a chance.

The moment Nicole opens the door, he’s barely muttering his name back to you, and is rushing past you to enter the store. His shoulder brushes against yours, and he has to tell himself repeatedly he did not just shoulder-check you. He has to tell himself that it’s okay he didn’t meet your level of enthusiasm. He has to tell himself that you’re just another barista, someone else who makes coffee for a living and that this new energy you bring is just due to that vacation that Nicole mentioned.

It’ll fade. He’ll be fine. At some point, his stomach has to stop churning.

—

It doesn’t.

Your energy doesn’t falter, to his surprise. Not only are you sunshine personified, but you’re also damn good at your job. Eddie can only imagine how sluggish he’d be if he had a month off from anything, especially a job, but it doesn’t even seem as though you have to dust any of your skills off for the day.

You offer to take over opening up the ‘drive thru’ aspect of the store, brewing all the coffees and teas without complaint as Eddie lingers in his misery of shuffling through the tasks of opening up the food portion of the store. As he’s sorting the croissants to be replenished, implementing the technique of FIFO (first in, first out), he can hear Nicole still cackling at whatever you’re saying in the back of the house as you clean the syrup pumps. When he’s labeling all the new breakfast sandwiches for the day with their best-by dates, he can hear you humming a few feet away from him over the clicking of the sticker gun in his hand. And when the clock finally reads 5:30 to signify the time of opening, you’re putting on your apron, tying it around yourself more securely than Eddie always lazily did. Even your black apron seemed to fit on you better than his did, as if you were more made for this job than he was. As if you had years of experience to carry on your shoulders, and God, were you carrying them with grace. Constantly smiling, constantly joking. He’d once thought Nicole incapable of even breaking a grin, but he’d hardly gone longer than a minute without hearing her laugh during the time of your opening together.

God, he sort of hated you.

You never even mentioned how rudely he’d shrugged off your introduction. Occasionally, he’d even caught you looking his way during the conversation, a soft expression on your face as if you were ready to include him in all the inside jokes at a moment’s notice.

He made sure to consistently stare straight ahead, never once seeming to glance your way when you wore that expression.

You were just too nice. You were putting all the other openers to shame right before his eyes, himself included, and he hated you for it.

Once the store is open, John is the first customer in drive, as always. Eddie wears the headset (the one you’d grabbed for him, sanitizing it and slotting a freshly charged battery in without him even asking. God, he hated you.) and listens in to you greeting the awful bastard, and his stomach does another flip.

“Good morning, John,” you chirp happily. He couldn’t see your face from around the corner, but he could only imagine that you were wearing a smile. Maybe you even had that damn camera on so that the customers could see you just as you could see them.

He waits. Anxious to hear John’s grumpy reply, be reassured when someone else also didn’t match your energy. The man had never been pleasant a single day that Eddie had worked thus far. Simply barking out his order, acting offended when someone didn’t recognize him.

If anyone was going to be cruel to you, Eddie would bet all five dollars in his pocket that it would be John.

But even John wasn’t fucking mean to you.

He had replied in the most cheerful tone Eddie had ever heard leave the man’s throat.

“And who am I speaking to?” he almost sounds teasing. It fans at Eddie’s irrational irritability.

“I’ll give you three guesses.”

He hates the way your customer service voice was so similar to just your normal voice. A bit squeakier, a bit more polite, but still bottled sunshine. He hates how nicely it caressed his eardrum as compared to the grate of some of the other barista’s tones while on drive thru. He hates that some deep part of him secretly hoped that Nicole stationed you there your entire shift, and that if she did, he would fight tooth and nail to keep this damn headset on. Just to hear your voice. Just to hear your light.

“Only three?” John’s gruff voice scoffs, “There’s only one person who works here who is this damn cheery before eight in the morning.”

Nicole laughs from where she’s bent over to put down a few of the sanitizer buckets by the bars, shaking her head as she also listens in over her headset.

“I’m making it easy on you, then,” you say as you suddenly come into view for Eddie. He’s trying to replenish the sandwiches and protein boxes that the store keeps on display for the customer by the register, still working through his morning tasks as he realizes you’ve completed yours.

Man, he fucking hated you.

You don’t miss a beat as you begin to tap one of the espresso machines awake, punching all the right buttons to pull John’s espresso shot before you turn to make your way towards the cold beverage station. “You still drinking the same thing, old man?”

“I’m not old.”

“Right, and I’m not already over-caffeinated,” that’s a lie. He hasn’t seen you touch a drop of coffee this entire time, “Just pull on up. It’s a billion dollars, or whatever your total normally is.”

John’s cackle is cut off by him pulling away from the speaker box, effectively disconnecting the two way mic. Even Eddie finds himself nearly grinning at your reply, but he stops himself. Because you’re annoying. Because no one should be this witty this early. Because the ability to make others laugh this often should be a cardinal sin.

He stops the grin because he hates you… right?

You do manage to get a tip out of John. Eddie sees it with his own two eyes. It’s a quick deposit of whatever spare change the stingiest man Eddie had ever had the displeasure of meeting has lying around his car, and it happens so quickly while you’re leant out the window to pass the man his receipt that he always requests that Eddie almost convinces himself it didn’t happen. But it did. He saw it with his own two eyes, as he tripped over his two left feet, effectively nearly knocking Nicole over with him.

The look she gives him makes his stomach twist this time as his heart lurches. It’s a knowing look. It’s despicable.

She doesn’t say a word until later into the shift, once more baristas are scattered across the floor and peak is in full swing. Eddie isn’t kept on food, and you aren’t kept to manage taking orders or run the window – he’s the one reassigned to the window position as you are moved to the cafe bar. He’s tasked with quick connections before handing out drinks to bored business people, as you fly through making drinks for both mobile orders and any customers that choose to physically walk into the store.

Nicole puts herself on the position of ‘DTO’ – she greets the drive thru customers over the headset and takes their orders, her tone not nearly as honey-sweet as yours had been. She’s lacking in jokes, she sticks to a script that must have taken her years to make sound even remotely natural.

Eddie’s just grateful he doesn’t have to wear a headset and listen to her directly in his ear.

Rush has died down when she turns to him and cocks a brow with her hip. He has the window shut, fiddling with his thumbs as he anxiously awaits for the partner on drive bar to finish making the iced white mocha for the customer currently sitting on their phone. He’s sure the look she shoots his way is in regards to the fact that he isn’t ‘connecting with the customer’ or putting himself through insufferable small talk.

It isn’t.

“Do you not like her?”

His head shoots up, fully meeting her curious gaze, “Excuse me?”

“Y/N,” she clarifies, “Do you… not like her?”

“I don’t know her,” he weakly defends himself.

He had been a dick to you this morning, hadn’t he? What a weak defense for being a bad person to someone who makes this entire store glow simply by being here.

“You should give her a chance,” Nicole speaks softly as she leans back on the counter that holds the order screens, “I… She can be a lot, but she’s one of our best. Think of her as the people’s princess, so to speak.”

He knows you’re one of the best here, just in the short few hours he’s caught glimpses of you. He has no idea how you’re so quick with making drinks, or how you manage to hold such genuine sounding conversations with all of the customers who stand right at the hand off plane. He just gets irritable when they stare at him with prying eyes as he tries (and fails) to keep up his pace.

“I… I can see it,” he nods, bringing a hand up to pinch his bottom lip, “I mean, John clearly loves her.”

Nicole gives a pointed look, “He does. She doesn’t take his shit – him and his wife bring her gifts for every holiday. They know her damn birthday and bring her cards. It’s insufferable.”

He cracks a shy smile at that, “They bring her birthday cards?”

“They bring her birthday cards,” she echoes back to him. Eddie finally receives the drink he was waiting on and turns, quick to hand it out with a soft mutterance of ‘have a good day’. Once he’s finished and the drive thru is officially empty, he faces her once more, “You don’t have to like her as much as everyone else. I know you’re still new and adjusting but… she’s one of the best for a reason.”

“Because she can turn out drinks like it’s no one’s business?” Eddie questions, side stepping and lifting his chin in your direction as you finish yet another drink, as if to prove his point.

“That,” Nicole shrugs her shoulders and pushes off the counter, “And because she actually gives a damn.” Eddie’s brows shoot up as he waits for her to continue, “She knows these customers, man. Learns about their lives, hears them out. Remembers the small things. She’s the same way with all of us, too. She once got turned down from being a shift lead because she’s too nice. Have you ever heard of someone being shot down from a job for that?” Nicole pauses, and Eddie can only shake his head, feeling the ends of his ponytail brush the back of his neck, “She has the management experience – she knows how to run this place. Sometimes, I see it. The way she steps up and takes responsibility. She chooses to be that kind even if it makes her seem like a nut job. She chooses to let people hear walk all over her, because she cares. She cares more about treating us as humans or whatever than she does an upgrade in pay.”

“Makes sense they wouldn’t make her a shift, then,” Eddie dares to say, which earns him a sharp look, “I mean, management positions aren’t for the weak of heart. You have to make tough decision-”

“Once, a man was harassing one of our baristas. This dude who was married. Came in like clockwork and picked up a mobile order under his wife’s name, wouldn’t take no for an answer and kept flirting with one of our poor girls. I’ve never really been afraid of her, but I was every time that man stepped foot in here,” Nicole grabs a rag and starts to wipe down the counters with a low whistle, as if she isn’t spilling serious store lore right now to Eddie. As if she isn’t bringing on more questions than answers, “She’s not weak of heart. She’s good of heart. And if she hadn’t been on vacation, she would have been your trainer. You don’t have to like her, like I said, but it would do you well to give her a chance.”

Trainer?

Carmen had mentioned something about another barista being the usual trainer. She had even tried to joke around with Eddie that he would have liked the other girl better, something about how she was funnier and easier to get along with.

You. You were the girl she’d been talking about. The people’s princess, as Nicole had put it.

Eddie opens his mouth to say something in reply, although he isn’t quite sure what he can say.

God, he had been a fucking dick. And Nicole was matching sure he felt all seven levels of Hell, of guilt, for it.

It ate him alive for the rest of his shift. His stomach churned with it. All that guilt gnawed on him from the inside out, using his bones for toothpicks, and he already knew what he needed to do without Nicole saying it.

—

“Did that hurt?”

The two of you got off your shifts at the same time, as most openers do. At ten o’clock precisely, Nicole was shooing the two of you off the floor, two fresh baristas taking both your places as you scurried to the back.

He’d overheard the joke made ten minutes prior, Nicole speaking to a fellow shift lead about who would be replacing you, already mourning your absence. She didn’t make such a joke about Eddie.

“Huh?” you look up quickly from where you had been carefully rolling and folding your apron into a bundle.

Eddie gestures vaguely to his nose again, repeating himself, “Did it hurt?”

It was the best he could do – pathetic small talk about the nose piercings of yours that had caught his eye.

You grin radiantly, and he tries to swallow down that instinctive voice that whisper hate, hate, hate. “Which one?”

Right. You had multiple nose piercings. A hoop that matches Eddie’s own, only on the left nostril rather than the right like his, and that septum piercing. He’d probably look dumb to ask about the nostril considering he had his done, and should already know that it definitely doesn’t feel nice.

“The septum,” he clarifies, “That combination, though, um… It looks sick.”

Oh, he sounds so fucking stupid right now. He wishes the sticky floors beneath the two of you would split and swallow him whole.

“Eh,” you shrug, finally glancing away from him to finish wrapping the strings of your apron snugly around the bundle you’d made of it, “My nostril honestly hurt worse. If you’re thinking of getting one,” you pause, and look up, offering him a look of pure mischief. Heart, stomach, mind. They all lurch with that look as you whisper, as if letting him in on a secret, “Do it.”

“I don’t think I could pull it off,” he’s quick to blurt out, eyes widening, resisting the urge to take several steps back and put distance between you two.

Fuck, he didn’t hate you. It hits him like a truck – this shift had managed to slip through his fingers so quickly. The fastest one to date. Between all of your jokes, all of the laughter you managed to pull out of others and that he had to fight down, the day had flown past as easily as a shift really could.

He regrets spending the shift moping. He regrets ignoring your introduction. He regrets not giving you a chance.

“I think you could,” your tote bag now hangs from your shoulder, and you have your keys prepared in one hand as you hold your water bottle in the other, “Everyone says that, but if you can already pull off the nostril, adding a little septum to the mix never hurt nobody.”

Is your face stuck like that? Stuck with a subtle and shy smile pulling at the lips, making the corners of your eyes crinkle in the slightest?

He hopes not. If it is, he’ll never be able to have a normal conversation with you. He’ll always be too distracted, too infuriated, too overwhelmed.

“You’re a very optimistic person,” he almost lets it slip out as a scoff, but refrains, Nicole’s words echoing in his mind. It would do you well to give her a chance.

“I find your lack of faith disturbing,” you casually say to him.

“Did you just quote Star Wars to me?”

Eddie is aghast, staring at you with even more awe than before. And you – oh, you look so goddamn proud of yourself and the way you’ve left him shellshocked, smugly lifting your chin and smiling more intentionally. You’re smiling so widely that your eyes pinch nearly fully shut and even more of that sunshine is now flooding the backroom up to Eddie’s knees.

“I don’t know,” you start to step around Eddie, carrying an air of arrogance that would only be so endearing from someone who had been proven to be as kind as you were, “Did I?”

You never give him the chance to answer. You leave him there, standing in the middle of the back of house and not even clocked out yet as you walk away with a bounce in your step and a quick have a good day, Eddie! over your shoulder.

When he’s finally off the clock and having given a half-ass goodbye to everyone on the floor (which no one replied to as enthusiastically as they had yours, by the way), you’re still sitting in your damn yellow Jeep. You give him a slight wave through the windshield as he makes a beeline for his van, and he doesn’t even bother to return it. Pretends he doesn’t see it. Looks straight ahead. If Nicole is watching from the drive thru window that serves as a front row seat to the entire interaction, she’s going to rip him a new one next shift they work together.

God, Eddie wishes he hated you.

Instead, he’s left hoping that next time he opens, you’re there to make the time fly. Maybe he’ll be the one quoting Star Wars to you. If he can ever get the stick out of his ass, that is.

taglist: @josephquinnsfreckles

(tag list is open - if you'd like to be added, let me know!)

#my writing #coffee shop blues #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #barista!eddie munson #this is what i do with my free time before and after work #and on my breaks lol #makes the grind more bearable #we needed some fluff #can i come out of jail now?

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blueywrites · 1 year

Text

The Munson Dunkin' AU

endgame Eddie Munson x fem!Reader. no use of y/n. all fluff (for now...)

You watch the new guy working the Dunkin' drive-thru window feed a donut to a raccoon. (1.4k)

Inspired by this Tiktok 'cause Eddie really fuckin' would, and we all know it. Thanks to the Coven for talking this silly AU through with me!

tagging @newlips 'cause I have a feeling she might be interested in this one 😘. also, this is written especially for my loves @abibliophobiaa and @ghost-proofbaby🌻

You know everyone who works the drive-thru window at the Dunkin' Donuts closest to your apartment. Or, at least, you thought you did.

When you started your first job as a legal assistant at a small but reputable legal firm, the morning routine you’d enjoyed throughout college drastically transformed. Now, every weekday, your alarm blares so early in the morning it’s practically inhuman. You stuff yourself into dowdy office wear, complete with panty-hose and kitten heels (no rocking the boat with your fashion choices if you want them to take you seriously). And then, you must take your little cobalt-blue Honda Civic and brave the dreaded commute into the city, all in the name of ‘becoming a real working adult’.

So what began as a small indulgence to settle your nerves your first week of work quickly became a daily pick-me-up, a little reward to yourself for 'gettin’ out there and doin' the thing.' Now, you stop at Dunkin' every morning at just after seven to pick up your caffeine fix before heading to the office.

In the last month, you’ve encountered all the early morning drive-thru attendants and recognize them now by voice and manner, though not by name. There’s a pale girl with bright blue eyes and short deep brown hair, voluminous and cut to her narrow jaw, wavy locks framing a small, dimpled chin; a guy with a square face and hazel eyes, sporting finger-tousled bangs that chicly graze one dark brow; and a tanned guy with perpetually half-lidded eyes and pleasantly rounded nose and lips, whose face is framed by a long sheet of shiny, jet-black hair.

It’s obvious who’s working the window on a given day when you hear their greetings at the speaker, which are all very distinct from each other.

The greeting could be chipper and corporatesque, very by the book: “Welcome to Dunkin’, how can I help you?” That one never varies, not even in tone or inflection— she’s so precise, sometimes you wonder if maybe she’s playing a recording or something.

It could be warm and schmoozy, a little overly-familiar but charming all the same: “Well, hey there! How’re you doing today?” It’s nice, but then you have to quickly pivot from your order to say ‘Good, how about you?’, otherwise you feel like an asshole.

Or it could be just one long, semi-coherent slur of a question: “S’up, can I get you somethin’?” Same, dude, you think whenever you get that one. It’s way too early to be awake, and yet here we both are.

It could be any of those options, and today, as you roll up to the speaker, you receive that first greeting. But it’s in the wrong voice. Where you expect something upbeat and crisply feminine, what you get instead is raspy, brash, and decidedly masculine.

“Welcome to Dunkin'. What can I get you today?”

It’s not a voice you recognize, but you don’t particularly care. Automatically, you provide your order, and without any fuss, he confirms your total. Same order, same total, same morning routine as always. That’s all that matters, really. You don’t visit Dunkin' for the bustling social scene, after all.

As you round the corner of the small, boxy building, the drive-thru window with its little orange awning slides into view. That is what you’re rolling steadily towards when a flash of movement near the opposite curb draws your eye to a curious sight: a raccoon. Utterly confounded, you stare at the gray creature— fuzzy and plump like a spool of scratchy yarn— as it inches forward on its tiny dark paws.

Yes, your apartment is in the suburbs, and yes, there is a thick line of trees to that side of the parking lot, so it isn’t that shocking. But you’ve never actually seen a raccoon outside of roadkill splatter on the road, and you certainly weren’t expecting to see one visiting a Dunkin' Donuts. Because that’s truly what it appears to be doing. As it emerges from the treeline, slinking over the curb and onto the asphalt, its nose turns up toward the drive-thru window; those beady eyes remained locked on clear plexiglass, the apparent source of its fascination.

It is seven in the morning, you reason, so there's a possibility that you might just still be half asleep. But when you blink, expecting the creature to clear from your vision like a mirage, it doesn’t go anywhere.

This is actually happening, then. You purse your lips as you consider and confirm your musings with a bobbing nod that no one sees. Yup. This is, for sure, the weirdest goddamn thing I've ever seen.

In fact, you’re so confounded by what’s happening that you’re still rolling forward in your car, drawing ever-closer to the animal at the same time it edges farther into your lane. It doesn’t seem to notice your approach. Instead, the raccoon shuffles forward a few more steps, and then— more peculiar and alarming than if it had done pretty much anything else— it stretches like a slinky, rising onto its two back feet. Its neck disappears into its shoulders as its arms outstretch, like it’s reaching for something that isn’t there.

This is the final nail in the coffin for your composure.

“What in the fuck?”

The sound of your own voice startles you out of your dazed stupor, and your heart leaps into your throat as you realize how close you’ve coasted toward the raccoon. Hastily, you slam the brake, jerking your car to a stop to prevent it from pancaking the oblivious creature.

All is motionless for a moment. And then, in a perversely slow manner, the plexiglass drive-thru window shunts open in a mechanic whirr of laboring motors, crawling until it thunks against the far wall, falling silent.

Considering your alarm and bafflement, it’s more a relief than anything when, after a brief pause, an arm abruptly thrusts through the window opening. Its appearance solves the mystery: the arm is pale but heavily-inked, ending in a thin wrist and a big, broad hand that holds a pink-frosted donut.

The raccoon reaches higher as the arm stretches further, both straining toward one another until those tiny human-like paws close around the offered confection. Then, the animal hunches down to a squat, billowing out in a puddle of bristly gray fur. Its snout quivers as it sniffs the donut, walking its paws along its edge, slowly rotating its prize as you look on in wonderment.

That inked arm has retracted now, but you barely notice. Your long commute and stuffy attire and early morning wake-up have never been further from your mind as you watch the raccoon handle the donut, which is nearly as big as its head. Your confusion has turned to fascination. In fact, it’s kind of cute, you decide as its black paws begin to mound with pink, which smears between its tiny clawed fingers. You hold your breath while, tentatively, it noses at the icing, licking it with a tiny flick of its tongue.

And then, startlingly quickly, the raccoon snatches the donut in its jaws and turns in a flash of gray and black. It skitters on all fours back across the lane, trailing a fat ringed tail which bumps over the curb as it bids a hasty retreat.

With a little, final flick, that tail disappears into the treeline.

It seems, all of a sudden, to have been a privilege to experience this absurdity. And how strange it is that your early-morning exhaustion has suddenly turned to delight— delight which is echoed on the face of the man whose head now pops from the window in a wild mess of brown curls. Pink lips split the pale of his face in a crooked grin.

“Sorry,” he says, and it’s the same brash rasp that greeted you at the speaker. “Little buddy’s gotta get his breakfast, too, y’know?”

So, as it turns out, you don’t know everyone who works the Dunkin' drive-thru window on weekday mornings. And maybe the social scene has more to offer than you originally thought.

I have other ideas for this silly little AU, including some more cameos from familiar faces and a budding romance for our metalhead barista and his favorite customer. If you want more, let me know! ☕️🍩

#blueywrites #barista!eddie #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x you #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie stranger things #eddie munson au

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spaceshipellie · 10 months

Text

modern au ellie crushing on barista reader

just a short blurb, no warnings just a situation i wish would happen to me please and thank you

we all know she hates coffee so she doesn’t go to coffee shops that often unless she’s dragged there by dina and jesse or joel

“hi, what can i get for you?” as dina placed her order with you ellie’s eyes wandered up to the face that matched that beautiful voice

oh you were cute, she thought. she didn’t originally want anything but considering it would be you making her drink, she did order a peach ice tea.

she’d watch you in awe as you made their drinks, loving how you’d tuck a piece of hair that had fallen in your face behind your ear. she wanted to do that.

when the drinks were done and you handed her hers, she purposely brushed her fingers across yours, holding eye contact.

she’d give you a “thanks, babe” (i’d fucking dissolve)

she’d linger for just a second longer before leaving, dina and jesse already on their way out and you’d be BLUSHING because she has that classic smiley smirk on her face

once she’s out the door she’d slap a hand down on dina’s shoulder “sorry deen, but that is now gonna be your regular coffee shop”

#why doesn’t this happen to me #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams x you #ellie x reader #ellie fluff #ellie imagine #barista reader #ellie williams blurb #the last of us #the last of us 2 #ellie tlou #ellie x y/n

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munsonsfairy · 8 months

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loser!barista!eddie munson 🍪☕️✨

from one loser to another <3 he is so me coded

⟡ wears his hair in a bun with a black scrunchie and looks so hot too!! the shirts he wears to work always show his tattooed arms!!

⟡ has numerous pins of bands and dnd on his apron. he always gets excited when someone points one out.

⟡ wears his airpods while making orders. he forgets you’re there so he’ll head bang and sing the songs with all his heart. when he turns around and sees you laughing, he tries to laugh it off.

⟡ has to give himself a pep talk before taking your order when he first sees you. you can see the wheels turning in his head when you walk up to the register.

⟡ tries to be funny and says, “you have such a nice grip,” when holding your cup. smacks his face when he realizes what he said. then, goes to the restroom to scream.

⟡ when he pours the coffee into the cup, you can’t help but drool every time you see his biceps flex. he always catches you and winks when you look up to grab your cup.

⟡ always gives you the freshest pastries. they’re so warm and full of love because of course he made this batch just for you. (after muchhhhh convincing from his manager)!!!!

⟡ loves to stare at you when you’re reading your book or doing homework. you’re so deep in your own world he can’t help but admire you. the times you do catch him, he looks away so fast but you can see his cheeks blushing.

⟡ an older couple who sits at the bar, tease him when they see eddie staring. they try everyday to get him to make a move.

⟡ knows your order by heart and has it ready when he sees your car pull in. there’s always a chocolate chip cookie sitting with your cup.

⟡ one time wrote, “hot stuff (;” on your cup making you laugh so hard. what you didn’t know is eddie spent most of the night trying to come up with the perfect joke and went to the back and fist pumped the air.

⟡ he thought he wasn’t enough to ask you out but after a pep talk from the older couple who are usuals and numerous dap pen hits, he finally did it.

“hey um… w-would you like to go see scream 6? we could get dinner before too!”

⟡ constantly fidgeting with his rings and rubbing the back of his neck when asks you. he noticed he was putting his hair in his mouth and got embarrassed. he’s such a loser but you find it soooo cute.

a/n: let me know if i should do a blurb of the date hehe <3 also kinda made this for @changemunson my favorite barista in townnnn <3

inspo:

@cowgirlcherrie loser!sbf!ellie williams

@ellabsbb barista!ellie williams

#eddie munson #barista!eddie munson #eddie munson moodboard #eddie munson stranger things #modern eddie munson #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson au #eddie munson edit #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson angst

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bucky-barnes-diaries · 1 year

Text

Prompt || Bucky is the barista at a coffee shop and always screws up Reader’s name on purpose. — Requested by @aquariusbarnes <3

Pairing || Beefy!Barista!Bucky x Female!Reader

Word Count || Around 600

Contents & Warnings || Fluff — no warnings.

Random prompt event || Masterlist

There were two reasons for you to regularly visit the little coffee shop around the corner from where you lived—one; the coffee was the best you’d ever had, and two; Bucky. The handsome and adorable barista that was to die for.

The aroma of delicious coffee as you walked into the shop hit you just as hard as the beautiful grin that spread across his face when he saw you, along with his eyes crinkling when he smiled brightly.

You felt so flustered and shy as you walked over to the counter. His intense gaze made you feel all fuzzy inside. Warming you up from the chilling weather outside you had just come from.

There was no line, and the place was not that crowded today, which meant the interaction with him while you ordered didn’t have to be rushed, and you could bask in the sweet and awkward spark between you two.

“Hey, Bucky,” you timidly uttered as you peeked at him underneath your lashes.

“Hey, you! How was work today?”

“O-oh, it was ok. Long, but ok. I have a few errands to run now before I go home.”

“I’m assuming you want the usual then? To go?” He beamed with a lopsided smile, already typing in your order for you to pay with that 10% off he always gave you.

“Yes, please. A large one.”

“You got it,” he nodded and picked up a paper cup. His tongue poked up slightly in concentration as he scribbled down on it, making you chuckle inaudibly at how such a beefy and broad guy could be so adorable.

You and he chatted casually with a few sweet, awkward pauses here and there while he went around behind the counter to make your drink.

“Here you go, doll.” Your fingers brushed as you took the cup from him, making a flow of sparks tingle its way through your nerves.

“T-thank you, Bucky.”

You wished you could stay longer, have your drink in the shop and secretly watch him work, falling more and more in love with the charming guy, but you had to leave, which made your heart ache incredibly.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” He questioned, a hint of hope laced in his tone, making your insides flutter.

“Y-yeah, I’ll be here tomorrow.”

“Awesome! I’ll see you then, doll.”

“Bye, Bucky.” You gave him a shy wave, as did he.

Once you were outside, you took a sip of the coffee. The delicious liquid instantly warmed you and made you feel loved and whole. You moaned when you took another sip.

You turned the cup to look at the little message he had written for you. He always wrote you something sweet and corny.

“I hope this coffee warms and brightens you up just like you make a whole room feel when you walk into it. Have a lovely rest of your day.”

And below it, as expected, your name, but spelled slightly wrong.

It made you chuckle because you knew he did it on purpose since it had taken you a few times to learn his name. You blame it on being so nervous around him since he was so godly handsome, but you would never admit to that. So this was kind of his sweet and teasing revenge on you, and you didn’t mind one bit. It had become your little thing together.

Your mood became somber when you realised that it would almost go a full 24 hours until you would be back in your favourite little coffee shop—your heart already longing for its warm and cozy vibes and the handsome and adorable barista that worked there.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

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renaiswriting · 1 year

Text

A cup of comfort

Pairing: Joshua Hong/Reader

Summary: You were so excited for this date, only to get stood up. Luckily for you, there's a cute baterista who's more than happy to keep you company.

Warnings: none, just fluff (!!)

Word count: 2.4k

Masterlist.

Gif is not mine.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You checked the time one more time; you have officially been waiting for almost forty minutes now.

For the first ten minutes, you thought he might be trapped in traffic.

But as time passed, you got more and more anxious.

You have been thinking about this blind date your friend insisted on for quite some time; you weren't too thrilled about meeting new people yet since it hasn't been so long since you and your ex-boyfriend broke up.

Oh well, since he dumped you, to be more exact.

Your friend told you this guy was the sweetest and smartest guy she had ever known. Talking nothing but good things about him for weeks.

Apparently, he was your friend's boyfriend's best friend, and he has also been dumped by his ex-girlfriend and is ready to start something new.

So, you put so much effort into looking good. You went out of your way to your friend's house to ask her to lend you one of her dresses that you loved so much. It was red with cute little flowers.

You also spent hours doing your hair and make-up, using even your favorite lipstick and that special perfume that you only use on special occasions since it's really expensive.

You checked if he, Jaemin, had sent you any texts, as you have been texting him asking if he was coming.

Nothing.

Should you send another one?

You stopped yourself from going through your chat; you didn't want to seem that desperate.

You made eye contact with the barista once again; he had approached your table on two occasions now, and both times you told him you were waiting for someone else.

Considering the amount of time you have been there without ordering, you were suspecting they were just about to ask you to leave or order something.

But the thing is, you weren't even hungry.

At first, the nervousness of having a first date, most specifically a blind date, with a guy your friend was constantly telling you how much of a perfect match he was for you took all the appetite away from you. But now that you were there alone, the embarrassment of spending so much time and getting all excited about this date made you feel nothing but nauseous.

You sighed. It would be best to just leave now. The quicker you left, the quicker you could put all this ugly experience in the past.

As you started gathering your things, you heard someone cleaning their throat.

You turned, your cheeks getting red as you saw the same barista that had come to your table for the third time.

He had a big hot chocolate cup with cream on top and a cheesecake. You raised an eyebrow, looking confused at him.

"Um, I didn't—I didn't order anything."

He smiled softly at you, his smile reaching his eyes as they turned into two crescents.

"I know, it's on the house; you seem kind of sad."

His voice was just as soft as his smile.

"Oh, thank you, but I was actually about to leave."

"I thought you were waiting for someone." He said, putting the things in front of you. A cute cat had been drawn with powdered chocolate on top of the cream. You smiled at that.

"It seems like he couldn't make it." You shrugged.

"We can't let a customer look this sad; it would be bad business for us." He said it, a serious expression decorating his face.

"I'm kind of embarrassed," you confessed to him, but still you sat down again, your eyes focused on the cheesecake that looked way too delicious. "I feel like people just know I've been stood up." You laughed to lift the mood and not give away how much you actually meant it.

"Of course not," he shook his head, smiling again, "no one noticed, trust me, so please enjoy it."

"It feels uncomfortable being here on my own," you told him, moving the food from the tray. "I usually come to places like this with my friends."

The guy looked at the clock behind him and at the number of clients there were inside the little cafe. "Well, I can keep you company for some minutes if you want to."

"Oh no, if you're busy, please don't mind me." You smiled at him.

"I'm free right now." He reassured you.

You nodded, connecting your eyes with his, saying, "Well then, please take a seat."

"So, what's your name?" He asked, getting comfortably into the seat. You were struggling to drink the hot chocolate, not wanting to ruin the cute design. He seemed to notice this, as he encouraged you to try it, saying it was his favorite.

"(Y/n)," you introduced yourself, "this is so good by the way."

"Thank you," he laughed, "hot chocolate is my specialty." He said it proudly.

"What's your name?" You asked, noticing that he hadn't said yours.

"Joshua, you have a beautiful name."

You felt your ears getting red, feeling thankful that your hair was long enough to hide it.

It has been so long since the last time you actually got a compliment, even if it was a polite one, as Joshua just did.

"Thank you; so do you." You returned the compliment, "You want some? This is way too big for me."

"Oh no, please, it's for you. I didn't know if you liked cheesecake, but that's our most popular one, so..."

"I do! It's actually my favorite!"

"I'm glad," he replied; his voice sounded genuine. "I'm more of an apple pie fan myself, but cheesecake is really good too."

"I didn't see apple pie on the menu." You commented, your eyes traveling to the big menu on the wall.

"Oh, we don't. Not yet, at least. But my mom used to make the best apple pie ever. It's been a while since I have had it."

"She doesn't bake it anymore." You asked out of curiosity.

"She does, but she can't send it here without it getting bad, so I just have to accept the pictures she sends me." He smiled.

Now that he mentioned it, you did recognize a slight accent here and there.

"Where are you from?"

"I'm from America," he answered, "but I got a chance to study at one of the universities in here with a scholarship, so I couldn't say no to that opportunity."

"I bet you miss your family a lot, huh?"

"I do, but well, I hope it's worth it in the end."

You smiled at him, taking another sip of the hot chocolate.

"What about you?"

"What about me?" You asked, confused.

"Yeah, you came in here alone."

"Oh," you mumbled, cleaning your lips from the rest of the brown drink you were drinking.

"You don't have to tell me if you don't want to," he rushed to add, "because it kind of sounded like I was forcing you to tell me."

"Nah, it's okay," you reassured him. "I was supposed to meet with a guy today. My friend planned this blind date thing, but it seems like he couldn't make it."

"Did he tell you he would come?" He asked with a frown.

"No, I sent him some texts asking, but oh well."

"What an asshole." He abruptly said it, sounding annoyed. "And you waited all this time here looking this pretty." He added.

You felt your cheeks turning red, avoiding looking at him in the eyes.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." He apologized.

"It's okay, you didn't."

"His loss, honestly." He tried to cheer you up, "but you should honestly be glad it happened; you really dodged a bullet with this one. If he can't take a first date seriously, then he wouldn't take anything seriously."

"I guess so..."

Your phone's screen lit up as a new text from your best friend popped up.

You excused yourself, unlocking your phone to see what your friend sent you.

It was a screenshot of Jaemin's close friend's Instagram story. It was a picture of him and another girl hugging him on the bed.

Oh.

You locked up your phone. But Joshua was frowning.

"What happened?"

You shook your head and said, "Nothing; I just found out why Jaemin didn't come." You smiled.

"Wanna talk about it? If it makes you feel better, I don't know any Jaemin and probably would never know him." He smiled.

You sighed, showing him the screen you had received.

You didn't want to talk about how disappointed you felt about the whole blind date fiasco with your best friend, knowing that she would probably go straight to her boyfriend and tell him everything.

You needed to get everything out of your chest.

You cleared your throat, taking a deep breath to control your emotions because you felt like you were about to explode. " I don't know Jaemin in real life at all. Everything I know is what my friend knows about him because her boyfriend is Jaemin's best friend. Apparently he had broken up with her girlfriend a couple of weeks ago (I don't know how long, but based on what my friend told me, it has been way longer than it sounds), and he said he was ready to find someone else. Long story short, my friend's boyfriend showed him a picture of me, and he was apparently really excited to meet me. So my friend gave him my number, and we talked for around a week before deciding to meet each other here and have a date."

You took a sip of what was left of the hot (now almost cold) chocolate, trying to calm down because the longer you talked about everything, the more hurt and angry you felt.

"He told me he was over her, but now my friend just sent me a screenshot of him and her ex, who I suppose is still her ex and girlfriend together."

Joshua's eyes opened wide. "So he stood you up because of her ex-girlfriend?"

You nodded, cleaning your lips from the brown drink.

"This is really a boomer; I was actually looking forward to this date; he sounded so sweet," you sighed, "whatever."

Joshua moved forward, giving you the sweetest smile you have ever seen. "Don't worry about it; like I said before, this is his loss. You'll find another person, someone better."

"I hope so," you replied honestly. "I've been searching for more fish in the ocean for so long now that I'm starting to think I'm the last one standing." You snorted.

"What do you mean?"

"It's been really long since me and my ex-boyfriend broke up. And if I'm honest, I'm starting to think that was the only relationship I'll ever get in my life, like that was my only chance in the love area." You laughed, trying to mask how honest you were feeling. "Whenever I like someone, they don't even spare me a second look. Jaemin did sound like he was looking forward to our little date, but I think it was only me." You chuckled awkwardly.

Joshua didn't say anything; he just kept looking you straight in the eyes.

You felt awkward all of a sudden. "I'm sorry; I didn't mean to dump all of that on you." You chuckled once again, trying to lift the mood. "I'm not usually this pathetic, I swear."

There was something comforting in knowing that, even if you cringed lately at how much you were feeling right now, you could simply ignore coming to this cafe ever again and would never have to face Joshua again.

It kind of gives you the freedom to just let all of your feelings go. If he's judged you lately or made fun of you with his coworkers, you couldn't care less; it's not like you were planning on meeting him ever again anyway.

Joshua shook his face and said, "There's nothing to feel sorry about; I get it. And honestly? It does sound like he was using you—well, maybe not using you but more like playing with your feelings. " It's almost like he was only talking to you to distract himself from his ex if he didn't give it a second thought and simply let you come here all by yourself. I mean, he could easily send you a text letting you know he wasn't coming."

You send him a smile and say, "I guess so; oh, it's already so late." You noted, looking at the time on your phone, "I'm sorry for getting you away from your work." You quickly apologized.

"Don't worry about it; I didn't mind it at all." He reassured you: "What are you going to do now?"

"Well, it's late, so I should probably get home by now. Today has been such a rollercoaster of emotions for me," you laughed. "I feel like it's been forever since I left my house."

"I see. I hope you can have a nice rest today, then."

You nodded, both of you walking towards the door of the cafe.

You were the last customer inside, now that you've noted it.

There were two other baristas, one of them behind the cash machine.

You approached them, with Joshua following behind. "How much do I own you?" You asked, taking your wallet from your purse.

"Nothing," you heard Joshua say from behind. "I told you, it's on the house."

You turned around and said, "I'm being serious."

Joshua nodded and replied, "So am I." He moved his attention from you to his co-workers, saying, "Just take it from mine."

You saw them nodding.

You sighed, knowing that there was no way to convince him. Instead, you took the money you were going to pay for the coffee and cheesecake and put it in the tip jar.

"For the therapy session." You shut him up before he could protest.

"There's no need, really." He reassured you. "That's way too much for a tip."

"I don't care," you replied, putting the wallet back in your purse. "Thank you for the food."

"I'll have to do something to return it." He mumbled. "It's way too much."

"Like what?" You said laughing; you weren't going to accept whatever he was thinking of; you were going to walk past that door and never come back. After all you talked about with him, you were not embarrassing yourself more.

"Let's go to the cinema." He offered. "Tomorrow night."

Oh, boy.

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underoospeterparker · 2 months

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heyy congrats on 600 follows !! ପ(๑•ᴗ•๑)ଓ ♡

i have a 🪸 corals request ! a blurb on barista!steve rogers x reader sounds super cute <33 [i was thinking maybe reader is his favourite customer to the point where he has her order memorized !! (๑^ ᴗ^๑) ]

again congratulations !! <3

join the celebration

barista!steve rogers x fem!reader, 0.4k words

The sound of the coffee shop bell ringing and your excited squeal made Steve's eyes lift from the iced coffee he was pouring. In a second, his face twisted into a massive grin, a dimple popping out from his cheek when he saw you wave at him enthusiastically, a smile mirrored on your lips.

As you came up to the counter, Steve's heart squeezed when you were pushed aside by another customer who was waiting for his iced coffee. You glared at him, but Steve was quick to interject. "Your coffee, sir," he said, sighing exasperatedly, "is over there."

He pointed to the collection stand and the man moved to go there. Steve stopped him with a hand on his chest. "You shove her again, and I can't be held responsible for what I'm about to do." He paused, making sure the man was listening. Sure enough, his eyes had widened in surprise. "You got it?"

The man gave Steve a curt nod and left, leaving only you and Steve at the counter. His face gentled when he saw you up close, a happy glint in your eye. "Hi, sweetheart," he greeted you, a tilt to his lips. "The usual?"

You suddenly paused your violent attempts at fishing your wallet out of your purse to stare at Steve. "You know my usual?"

Your question was quiet, and the barista's eyes softened. "Of course I know your usual," he replied, a small smile on his lips, "a caramel frappuccino; less ice, no whipped cream."

"How do you do that?" He gave you a confused look. "I mean, how do you memorise everyone's orders?"

You must have looked bewildered, because he laughed. "I don't memorise everyone's orders, honey," he replied, "just yours."

The comment made you blush; a bright pink spreading across your cheekbones as you fought the urge to giggle in front of him, which would have been terribly embarrassing. Instead, you gave him a small smile, then pulled out your wallet with a flourish. "Well," you whispered, taking out your credit card, "I do come here too often, don't I?"

He moved to the cashier, inputting your order with a quick press of his thumb, but his eyes remained on you. "Not often enough."

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aakeysmash · 2 months

Text

Roommate or boss?

part 1, part 2, part 4

Pairing: f!reader x Katsuki Bakugou.

Warnings: none.

Word count: 1.5k.

Katsuki knows you will not remember anything from this night tomorrow, since he sees how drunk you are. He’s sober though, and what you said has him thinking from the moment he leaves you on your bed, soundly asleep.

He’s always been a rude guy, he thinks people are too used to kindness to function properly in nowadays society.

To prove his (still standing) point, he opened the cafe when he was 18. He wanted to make something out of his life, and he knew he couldn’t do it without a steady income. Honestly, he opted for a cafe just because one day Midoriya said he couldn’t see him as a cafe owner. Basically, he opened it out of spite. So he bought the store from an old lady that was literally almost gifting it, painted it himself all summer, put the counters/chairs/machines that he bought all over the country (“if they’re good, cheap and they can ship them here, I can always fucking renovate them”) and he hired some of his frien- uhm, classmates, as his work subordinates.

They all just finished high school, so they all needed money. Todoroki and Momo weren’t even together back then. They had their little flirt moments, sure, but working together really strengthened their relationship. It made Katsuki sick to his stomach.

If Katsuki was something, he prided himself on being honest: he never said their paycheck was coming in late, or that they wouldn’t be paid. He did all he could to be the boss he wanted others to be happy about.

For the last 4 years things have gone pretty well. Kirishima was (and still is) a big part of this project, and Katsuki probably wouldn’t have come so far without his aid (even if he would never admit it).

Even if he was indeed the boss, he opts to never go himself at the cafe, since he likes to be behind the scenes more (also, even if he doesn’t know it, this is the reason why he doesn’t recognise you, even if you have been working there for 2 years). And maybe it’s also because seeing some of the people that stuck with him since the beginning makes him feel a tenderness that he doesn’t want to acknowledge.

And yeah, he was definitely still a rude guy. He just didn’t think he wanted to be nice to people, or, well, he knew he didn’t want to be. Things have gotten better since middle school, sure, and he now has friends who accept him just as he is, but he isn’t used to making friends. One day he woke up and he had friends. He always (jokingly?) said he was forced to be their friend.

But you were different.

At the time he met you, he was really desperate to find a place to stay in, since he had to be more and more present each day at the office. His old landlord was an ass and kicked him out since all of a sudden he wanted to rent each room of the establishment to a different person, and he remembers crashing at Kirishima’s place for two weeks while he was searching for a new apartment. You just happened to post that you needed a roommate the same day he was about to call his parents (yes, he was THAT desperate).

You were the 23rd person he visited in those 2 weeks. He was pissed out of his mind: 5 out of 22 people never got up to greet him at the door; 6 already had a roommate and they just wanted to sublet to make more money; 10 were living in such horrible conditions that he thought he got sick every time he saw a pile of old dirt in their home; 1 just wanted to have… some kind of intercourse… since they saw his photo on the booking app.

And when he saw you opening the door of your house with sleep still covering your features, he was about to turn around and really call his old folks. He was tired of this shit.

But you still managed to smile, even if he noticed how your eye ticked slightly when you clarified that he was indeed early after he pettily said that he waited for you for 15 minutes. Also, that remark was probably what made him stay. He didn’t want a weak extra as his roommate, and his more-than-good sixth sense was saying that you were indeed capable of holding your ground.

He does find you incredibly annoying, though. You have this aura of softness he doesn’t like, but that he is drawn into. He is a pretty silent guy when he is in his personal space, while you like to talk about whatever you have done a certain day, or about your new trashy show, or the new recipe that you saw on IG that he “absolutely has to try”. You basically yap all day long, and it gets on his nerves. Badly.

But he also enjoys your company. He’s very loud when he’s with his friends, being as naturally angry as he is about anything, but your softness rubs on him the wrong way, and it makes him stay silent. Well, he knows this is what he tries to tell himself, anyway.

He doesn’t want to admit to himself that the way you want to be his friend puts him in the awkward position of not being able to reciprocate your efforts. It’s not like he doesn’t want to, it’s that he doesn’t know how to, and he hates not being good at something.

And so, he distances himself. Even if he does watch you from afar, and even if he did notice a lot in the 4 (almost 5, “fuck rent is due tomorrow”, he thinks) months you have lived together. For example, you’re super easy to please. When you have a bad day he notices that you brighten up if he cooks both of you dinner (which really isn’t a hassle for him, even if he says so) instead of making you cook for yourself. Or that if you have a pretty tiring day at work/uni and he “accidentally” leaves some coffee in the pot before his morning run the next day, your eyes twinkle a little bit more when he comes back home.

He’s not used to being so close to someone who tries their best to be happy anymore. The last time he was that close to someone happy, he started to be a bully (yes, he did say sorry to Midoriya. Multiple times. Mostly when he sporadically got drunk in high school).

Your outburst gets him thinking because, after all, you’re a really good fucking roommate. He’d hate to have to search for another apartment because you get sick of his ass.

Most importantly, some part of him likes how different you are from him, and he doesn’t want to be rude when he knows you’re just trying to make him like you. But it’s second nature to him. You’re too pure in that sense, and he wants nothing to do with that.

He doesn’t know how to say sorry, just like he doesn’t know how to change things. The fact that you won’t remember anything and even if you will you probably would just shrug it off just makes him believe that it’s not that big of a deal.

After all, if your roommate still pays their rent and acknowledges you as a human being, what could possibly go wrong?

“Fuck, my head is killing me” whines Ochaco while you escort her out of the door.

“We really have to stop getting drunk” you sigh, while rubbing your temples. “You have Midoriya picking you up, right?” you ask your best friend.

“Fortunately yes. Say hi to your roommate, I don’t think we had the chance to meet yet” she responds.

You raise an eyebrow before saying “you don’t think?”.

She shrugs, before adding “you never know, this town isn’t that big. Maybe I’ll find out that, I don’t know, he used to be my boyfriend’s best friend or something like that”.

You laugh, “you read too many novels”.

A car parks right in front of your door, and a guy with green curls walks out of it.

“Hi! I’m Midoriya. You must be the best friend Ochaco always talks about” he says while putting on the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on a human face.

“Hey, that’s most definitely me. Take good care of her, okay?” you reply with a smile of your own. “I have to get back to my thesis, but we have to meet each other again soon. Drive safely!” you add, while he gets her purse on his shoulder and gets the door of the car on her side open.

“Thank you so much babe. Don’t stress yourself and text me!” your best friend says before Midoriya nods at you and starts the car.

You get inside of your house again.

You and Ochaco just woke up, so you still have to eat breakfast.

While you get near the coffee machine you notice a scribbled note on the counter.

“Left coffee 4 u. u'll need it. also, rent is due. -K”.

You smile and roll your eyes, pouring the coffee into a cup while opening your text messages app.

You: you could’ve texted me, you know. Thanks for the coffee.

Bakugou answers almost instantly.

Katsuki (roommate): wtv.

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