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Bakery Girl and Salaryman ~ Ch. 1

fluffy Nanami x Bakery Girl (you!) in which you are crushing on your regular customer and grow closer by flirting over sandwiches // [ao3]

edit: Ch. 2 available here!

Bakery Girl And Salaryman ~ Ch. 1

Your friend hid a giggle behind her hand as she ducked into the kitchen and waved at you. “Hey, your boyfriend’s outside!” You spun around from where you were wiping the counter and flung the soggy dishcloth at her.

“You know he is so not! Quit embarrassing me!”

She sidestepped neatly out of the way and beamed an infuriating smile back. “Yeah but you know you wish he was. I’d love to serve him myself but it looks like my break is…now!” She wiggled her fingers at you and slid out the back door of the bakery, leaving you alone.

You knew for a fact that her break wasn’t for another hour, but you rolled your eyes and tied on your apron, washing your hands slowly at the sink. You could pretend it was for responsible-employee-hygiene purposes, but you were also trying to quash the irritating swarm of butterflies that had appeared in your stomach. You couldn’t help but be intrigued by the quiet blonde who had started frequenting your shop lately. The quiet, mysterious, gorgeous blonde…

“Not my boyfriend”, you mumbled to yourself, adjusting your red beret and biting your lip all the same as you emerged behind the register.

His back was to you, and you took the opportunity to let your gaze linger. His pinstripe suit hung perfectly off his broad shoulders, tapering over his narrow waist and long legs. His head was a little tilted in the noon sunlight, soft prisms from the entrance window reflected onto his blonde hair. You were struck by a sudden urge to brush your fingertips over his undercut, wondering if his gelled hair would fall out of place, over his forehead, into his dark eyes-

Eyes that were definitely looking right at you. Fuck. When did he turn around?

You slap on your customer-service smile, a little strained as your cheeks flush. “Good afternoon!”

He doesn’t smile, but his voice is gentle when he replies. “Afternoon.”

The man looks exhausted. His sharp cheekbones stand out underneath deep circles that sit heavy beneath his eyes. You bite the inside of your cheek, and concern washes away the embarrassment. You don’t stop to think before asking, “Are you getting enough sleep?”

His eyes widen a fraction at the familiarity of the question, and you wish you could take it back…but at the same time, you worry that no one else would ask.

The silence stretches between you until he raises an eyebrow and asks, “Are you?”

You look up at him, valiantly forcing your gaze up from where it wants to rest on his tight-pressed lips. What would they look like relaxed? On your cheek?

The butterflies in your stomach seem to have spread into your brain, and you laugh, leaning forward on the counter. “Well my shift starts at 4am, so not really, if I’m being honest.”

He nods seriously. “Bakeries are very essential. Your work is quite important.”

He’s not exactly giving you much to go on, but this is the longest conversation you’ve had with the stoic blonde so far, so you make the most of it. “What is it that you do, then?”

His eyebrows knit together and he looks away. “I make rich people richer. My job is…non-essential. Not like yours.” A ghost of a smile twists his marble features. “People would certainly miss this bakery if it were to disappear.”

“Well don’t worry, I’m not going anywhere! We! We’re not going anywhere, I mean.” You smile hard enough to make your cheeks ache, willing him to move on without thinking too much about what you said. Casting around for something to do with your hands, you begin putting together his usual lunch order. “So, is it rich people running you ragged then?”

He smiles, a real, actual, too-brief smile. The crack in his demeanor is like the sun breaking through clouds, and you have to look down at the bread you’re buttering to shake off the dazzle.

“You could say that.”

The two of you go quiet again, but it’s more comfortable this time around. He watches you work, and you would swear he’s admiring the precision of your sandwich artistry. Or you’re delusional.

You put the finishing touches on the sandwich and slide it into the toaster over behind you. When you turn back to face him, he’s looking at you quizzically. “Pardon me but, I never ordered.”

“Oh, you always get the same thing so I made it without even thinking, I’m sorry!” You apologize quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up for the third time in this five-minute conversation. God you’re being such a dork! Get it together!

He cuts off your apology and inclines his head to you. “I didn’t realize you were…paying attention.” You’re astounded to see twin spots of color appear on his pale cheeks. “I suppose I am a man of habit. They stopped selling these at my local convenience store.”

So that’s why he’s come around so often lately! You offer mental thanks to the fickle gods of his local convenience store, and the gods of sandwiches for good measure. “Well I’m sure ours are better anyway, being an essential bakery and all”, you tease. The toaster dings behind you, and you slide the warm sandwich into a plastic bag.

“I’d say so”, he replies quietly, the corner of his mouth tilting up as he looks at you. He looks marginally more relaxed, and you can’t help but feel proud.

“Well, please do keep coming by. We’re always happy to see you, Mister…”

“Nanami. Nanami Kento.” His face has settled back into its familiar flatness, but you this time you think you can see warmth hidden in his tired eyes.

“It’s a pleasure, Mr. Nanami.” You bend down to grab a paper bag off the top of the stack you keep below the register for to-go orders, and package his sandwich as he pays. “I hope you get some rest soon.”

Another split-second smile, and he takes the bag from you. “You as well.”

You force yourself to stand calmly by the register until the door shuts behind him, then you rush back into the kitchen and hide your face in your hands, a stupid smile spreading behind them. Nanami Kento.

Your friend saunters back in from her break with annoyingly perfect timing. “How did it go with your boyfriend?”

You’re too giddy to tease her, and give her a grin. “I know his name!”

“Ooh that’s amazing!” she squeals. “That’ll be so helpful when he texts you. What else was he going to say, ‘hey bakery girl?’ Now he can be all, ‘hello, this is whatever-his-name-is’”.

“When he…what? I didn’t give him my number,” you frown.

She steps closer and gives you a sheepish smile. “You…sorta did.”

You round on her, eyes wide with dread. “What did you do!”

“Well, you said he always orders lunch to-go, right? And you always put those in the paper bags, so I figured if I wrote your number on one of the bags and left it on top…”

“Oh my god…” you slump against the dishwasher and hide your face in your apron. “How could you do this to me!”

Your friend mimicked your despairing pose and peeked behind your apron. “I’m sorry, you would just be so cute together! And I knew neither of you would do anything, so I thought I could give you a little nudge. It’ll be worth it, you’ll see!”

Her earnestness wore you down, and you leaned your head on her shoulder. “Fine. But if this blows up on me…”

She threw up her hands in mock surrender and scooted away. “Okay, okay, fair! Just wait and see. You’ll be thanking me at the wedding!”

You rolled your eyes at that, but stood up and prepared to go back to work. True, you never would’ve been bold enough to do it yourself, but you remember the blush that crept up his cheeks when he realized that you remembered his order, and allow yourself to hope he’ll have the same reaction to finding your number. You picture the smile you earned from him, and all you want is the chance to see it again.


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2 months ago

Someone once told me to kms for shipping yutamaki 💀 like LMAO have you SEEN canon? Yutamaki always had 120% more potential of being canon than Nobamaki! Besides, IT'S JUST SHIPS BRO! I can have multi ships, heck I have gay ships too! Live and let live!

JJK Fans when you ship a man with a woman:

JJK Fans When You Ship A Man With A Woman:

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