Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

You ran a quaint, small bakery on the corner of a bustling street. You had gotten the property from your Mother’s friend, who was a bakery owner before you. Although your Mother attempted to paint the walls over with a pretty mint, there was a charm to the yellowed white walls, and the ivy threatening to overthrow it. You politely declined, and have ran it just this way ever since.

The display of various baked goods and the smell of pastries and whatever was baking permeated the air, and you swore it smelled better on cold mornings. This place was your hard work, your dedication, and all your love in the form of something physical.

You sighed happily, eyeing the neatly tucked in chairs, the sparkling tables with not a pesky crumb on it. You had wiped everything down, 10 minutes before closing time, and now you could pig out on the left-over pastries.

Perfect.

Just as you started to pick up a kikufuku mochi- your favorite, the bells above the door chimed loudly. Still holding the kikufuku, you jumped, cursing to yourself about forgetting to lock the door, expecting a murderer, or drunk men about to throw up their insides out. Instead, a freakishly tall, spiky white haired, grinning, blindfolded idiot casually strode in, as if it wasn’t 10:20 PM at night.

He ducked under the small frame, uttering curses about how small the place was. Heat rose to your cheeks, maybe you really should upgrade the place...

Well, no, that would be ridiculous to even consider upgrading the bakery. First the man had walked into the place like it was his own house. Not to mention, it was 10:20 at god damn night. His impossibly lanky arm yanked a chair out of place, sitting down on it as if he hadn’t taken a break in centuries.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, his hand perched on his cheek, his arm on the table, looking at you with a mix of mischief and curiosity at the small variety of desserts displayed directly in front of him.

Well, you didn’t really know if he was looking at you. Judging by the way his head was facing, you assumed so. You smiled at him, resisting the urge to slap him for being so rough with the chair. Resisting the impatient tone, in fear of your 4.9 stars going down, you inhaled deeply.

“Uh.. Hello? We’re kind of closing in...” you checked the clock ticking on the wall, shivers went down your back. What if he was here to rob you? With a stupid disguise? “8 minutes, so please choose soon. But otherwise, take your time.” you motioned to the now cold, and probably hard, baked goods. Was he even able to see them? He cleared his throat, “Do you happen to have... any kikufuku?”

You opened your mouth to speak, before he chuckled. “Of course you have kikufuku. I literally see you holding it.” you paused, he could SEE YOU? and here you thought he was disabled and incredibly old. “U-um, you can see me? What’s with the blindfold then?”

He snickered, waving his hand, “Never mind that.” he tilted his head, seemingly confused,” that kikufuku looks...” he smiled, “Unique.”

Suddenly, you saw red. “I KNOW that you’re just trying to make it sound positive and tick me off. Fuck you, these were made fresh this morning and when you come in at CLOSING TIME maybe it won’t exactly look the best.”

Oops.

You grimaced, expecting a whirlwind of curses, and swears to vote the shop into the negatives. Instead, he laughed, incredibly loudly. You were strangely drawn to the laugh, friendly, kind of childish, yet deep and reassuring. Trying to desperately stifle his laugh, he changed it into a cough. You were suddenly transported back into the real world when he spoke again. “Cute! So, continuing...” He took out his wallet.

Your eyes bulged out of your head. This guy was STACKED. His wallet was a black leather, about to snap with all the money loaded into it. His long fingers danced, obviously searching for the appropriate amount of money to give you.

He handed you a 100 dollar bill. You jumped back, you had never gotten a 100 dollar bill before. Most of the baked goods you made were cheap and relatively inexpensive. Even if you bought multiple of them, it wouldn’t amount to 100 bucks. You gawked at him, looking at the dollar.

“I’ll take everything you have left. You don’t need to warm the up. Keep the change.” He insisted. Pushing the crinkled bill towards you.

You stammered, who was this guy? You never saw this guy on the news, or the internet, surely someone rich enough to hand 100 dollars to some stressed out bakery owner was well off. So why did he have so much money?

He clicked his tongue playfully. Snapping back into reality, you quickly bagged the cold baked goods. You desperately wanted to prove to him that your baked goods were delicious, just like every customer has said about them. You didn’t understand, what was special about him?

Why did you want to so desperately prove how good they are to him? Sure, people had insulted them before, but you didn’t bother. You were intrigued, entranced even by him, even though you didn’t even know his name.

You bit your lip as you watched him leave, the bag of baked goods in one hand, his phone on the other. The small tinkle of the bells chimed, hoping to any god out there that he’d come back.

Glancing over at the clock, you cursed to yourself, it was 10 minutes past closing time.

But you thought it was slightly, maybe worth it.

Chapter Text

You watched the clock on the wall, going past 10 now. The strange white haired, blindfolded man had been constantly on your mind ever since the occurrence 2 weeks ago. Snippets of his long fingers and his stupidly attractive face structure echoed through out your mind. Oh, and his lips. They were a remarkable type of gloss, and his-

You shook your head, thinking of the guy was pointless. It had been 2 weeks without a word, and although you had asked all your regulars to keep an eye out for such a strange man, nothing ever came up. You cursed yourself, with the riches he had, and the seemingly handsome face that had graced your vision those 2 weeks ago, why would he ever go for the humble bakery worker that was you? It’s not like you were cute or anything. But he did call you cute-

Great. Overthinking on a guy that probably just wanted another warm body in his bed. Well, you weren’t going to have that were you? You were an independent person anyways.

You leaned on the counter, looking at the messy kitchen. You didn’t even know his name, his job, nothing. Did you ever know anything? You didn’t even know why you were so attracted to him, maybe his riches, or his looks? But you knew you experienced some sort of connection before that.

Letting out an exasperated sigh, you eyed the flour knocked over on the kitchen counter. Feeling a sudden urge to bake, you snatched up the flour. It was like you didn’t have control over your body, instantly grabbing the yeast. Oh well, you could use the bread to make some free sandwiches for your regulars anyways.

As the dough began to form, you kneaded it angrily. Pretending it was him you were practically punching. “Stupid white haired grandpa.” You muttered to yourself, “playing with my stupid heart.”

You acted as if he knew what he was doing to you.

The bell rang. A quick sweet chime, and a familiar white haired man sauntered in. Eyes wide, you did a quick double back, focus now directed towards him. Replacing the blindfold, circular black shades sat on top of his nose. You much preferred these. You could see his eyes faintly. Replacing the weird black uniform with a ridiculous collared shirt, a dress shirt was in place. Two buttons unbuttoned scandalously, displaying well toned pecs, and OH GOD those collarbones-

He cleared his throat, snapping your attention back on him, you felt an unfamiliar warmth rush towards your cheeks. Did he see you ogling at him? You glanced back at him fearfully, like a deer stuck in headlights.

A small muffled laugh pierced the silence. As soon as you two caught eyes, he unclasped the hands over his mouth, letting out the extent of the laughter. You grimaced. “Wow! I didn’t know someone with such a wholesome, cute lookin bakery could have such dirty thoughts! Didn’t know you liked the look that much.” Digging his hands into his black jeans, he grinned at you. Waving a hand dismissing the conversation, he beamed at you, “Those treats.. Damn, amazing. That’s coming from a sweet tooth, by the way.”

A sweet, sweet wave of relief flooded inside of you. Of course he would say that, why were you even worrying in the first place? As a small smile began to spread across your face, you quickly snapped back into a serious tone.

“Is that all you had to say? Can I get a.. More detailed description? Or something?”

“You know, if you just want me to praise you just say so.”

Eyes widened, you were about to snap back with a retort, but his eyes directed its attention towards the dough you were just beating up a few minutes ago.

“Baking bread so late? For me?” he pondered sweetly. “Well, all you had to do was ask! Let’s sit down why don’t we?”

“Uh, no you dimwit. This is sourdough bread, which you have to age. Do you want to eat dough that’s not even baked yet? The bacteria isn’t even-”

“Oh shut up you dork.” He pulled a chair out, you looked at his incredibly long fingers again. “I see that you have leftover pastries- Nuh uh uh, I’m not paying. Don’t worry.” You sighed a breath of relief as he pulled a chair out for you, quickly placing the leftover pastries on a plate, you quietly placed it on the table full of scattered crumbs. A sudden feeling of embarrassment rushed over you, the bakery was in a state of disarray.

“So!” He cracked his knuckles, placing a leg on the table. You gagged at the sight. “I’m sure you have plenty of questions as to where I was for those 2 weeks, just on business trips and such. I also teach some kiddos at some private school, so, you know. Oh and yes, before you ask where the money comes from- no not drugs. I’m a teacher that travels worldwide to uh, teach Japanese.”

That explained the business trips, you had no idea if teachers like those even existed, much less get paid THAT much money. “Oh, that’s... An interesting occupation, I thought you were a model or something.”

Oh no, fuck, you let it slip.

He chuckled, “No lil lady, but I do have the looks of one.” He winked, taking a large bite out of a daifuku. “It’s a pretty underground industry, friend introduced it to me.” before you could inquire more, he interrupted. “My name’s Gojo Satoru! What about yours?”

You gulped, you didn’t think that the conversation would get as far as introducing each other, maybe small chit-chat while you got to eye his jawline. “Uh, (Y/N). Nice to... Meet you?”

“Great, so I’ll just get straight to the point and stop wasting your time, seeing as the shop closes in like..” he glanced to the clock, “10 minutes! I initially came her just looking for some cute girls, but I couldn’t help but realize that you were holding some kikufuku!”

A small feeling shriveled inside of you, he only came in here because he wanted kikufuku, and not you..?

You dismissed the idea, not like you wanted him or anything. He was just an out of the ordinary guy.

“Kikufuku is my favorite.” he looked at you, up and down. “You also happen to be my favorite girl I’ve seen in a while.”

You froze.

He chuckled. “Just wanted to pop in and ask if you wanted to go out sometime. Or we could stay here, I don’t mind. Of course, it depends on what you want.”

You sat, mouth slightly agape. Did he just.. Ask you out? So directly? For a date?! You cleared your throat, eyes suddenly examining the crumby table very, very thoroughly.

“Uh, um, yeah, sure okay. Anything to get out of here.” you added, hoping to make him smile.

He chuckled, “What’s your phone number? I’ll text you the place, see where it goes.” He handed you his phone, brain clouded with euphoria, you handed it back, unable to hide your dopey smile.

Maybe you did have a small crush on him after all.