Sebastian Stan Imagine- Lavender Jackets
A/N: Iâve been reading a lot of mobster AUâs lately so i thought â why not do one my self â so here it fucking is. Also, I hit 1500 followers and Iâm thinking about doing a contest or something but I donât know if I should do it. Also, someone wife me. Like now. Like I just want a girl to hug in the night and tell corny jokes to hand hold her hand when I want to jskskskskkdkddkdk. Anyways, enjoy!
Pairing: Mobster!Sebastian Stan x Coffeeshop-owner!Reader
The warm, sudsy water runs down your fingers as you wring out the piece of cloth you use to clean the windows. Your skin wrinkles up at the feeling of wetness. You smile at the smell of cleaning supplies, coffee and lavender fills your nose. Itâs the perfect smell. Clean, warm, soft and cosy. The perfect smell for people wanting to drink their morning coffee.
You drag the cloth over the glass, wet stains trailing behind. You wring the cloth out again. Grey, cloudy water coming out of it. You wipe the window again, and again, and again until the water coming out of the cloth is crystal clear. You let the cloth fall out of your hands into the water with a smile of accomplishment on your face. You grab the bucket of water and throw the water into the sink, placing the bucket underneath it. The door flies open as Tom and Elisabeth walk into your store. You look up at them and smile at the all too familiar sight of them. Elisabeth has her hair in a messy bun at the top of her head, bag slipping off her shoulder as she buttons her blouse up.Â
Tom, on the other hand, looks well put together. The curls on his hair are perfectly styled, glasses sitting on his nose with his blouse tightly tucked into his pants. â Good morning, â you say. Elisabeth mumbles a good morning as she walks straight towards the coffee machine and makes herself a shot of espresso. â Iâm holding that back from your loan, â you say jokingly as you hand Tom an apron to wrap around his hips. The pieces of ribbon flow trought his fingers as he makes a bow in it. Elisabeth grabs the apron that you are holding in the air for her and loosely ties it around her hips.
The first customer walks into the coffee shop. Elisabeth quickly takes her place behind the coffee machine while Tom is already standing behind the till. â One lavender black coffee. With Camille syrop. â the man says. Tom pushes the buttons on the till before he writes down the drink on a note. â Would you like whipped cream on that? â he asks.Â
â Who doesnât? âyou mumble to yourself as you place the clay mugs into the shelves. You hear the man ordering chuckle slightly before telling Tom to add whipped cream. The man walks away, probably to sit down at one of the tables or on a couch. You turn around to see him. His brown hair is on the longer side. You can tell that he tried to style it so that itâs out of his face but some pieces fell to the front of his face, to frame it. A soft stubble his splattered itself over his cheeks. A stiff, blue suit his managed a way to wrap itself around his body and glossy black shoes are on his feet. His eyes are fixated on the laptop he pulled out of the black leather back that is now standing by his feet.Â
â Tom, â you whisper. Tom quickly makes his way towards you as he also starts to look at the man. â Give him a free scone. He looks like he needs it. â. You see him frown his brows as he types away like his life depends on it. Pour guy, working so hard. More customers start to make their way into the shop. Some are regulars, some are new. But they are all looking for a relaxing coffee to drink in the morning. Even though you have your focus on the customers, you donât miss the smile on his face as Elisabeth brings him his coffee and scone while telling him that the scone is on-the-house.Â
You do that a lot, giving people free snacks. Itâs not good for you income but the smiles on their faces when the taste the sugary pastry is way better than any amount of money. Thatâs why you do it all. To see people smile as they taste the combination of lavender and coffee for the first time. Or orange blossom and sweet tea. It relaxes them. Thatâs also why you donât do paper cups. Only mugs, so that people need to take the time to sit down and drink something. To take a moment to escape the rush of their life.
You get pulled out of your thoughts by Elisabeth tapping on your shoulder. You turn around to see her pointing at the man you gave a scone to earlier. He gives you a small wave. â He wants to talk to you, â she says as she walks past you. You smile as you quickly walk over to him.
â Thanks for the scone, â  he says. Itâs only now that you hear his voice better. Itâs deep, warm, inviting and scary at the same time. â Your welcome. You looked like you needed it. â. You two stay silent for a moment while awkwardly looking at each other. â Anyways, here is the money for it, â he says as he reaches into his pocket to grab his wallet.Â
You quickly shake your head while pushes his hand holding the money away. â No, no. Thatâs not necessary. Itâs on me. â. He keeps on offering you the money but after you keep on refusing it, he puts it back into his wallet. â The world needs more people like you, â he says. â More people giving out scones. â. You laugh softly. To you, it sounds awkward and forced but to him, god. For Sebastian, it sounds so pure. So happy and so innocent, unlike anything else in his life. â I have to go now. Thanks again, â he says before walking out of the store.
From that day on he becomes one of your regulars. Coming in every day to try out something new. But he always ordered a scone with his drink. The first week he was still working while sipping on his drink. But quickly, that started to stop. He read a book, started doodling or writing his own stories. On quiet days, when the cafe was empty, he would just talk to you, Tom and Elisabeth.Â
You were expecting him. You were ready for him to walk in and ask for a drink he hasnât tasted yet. But he didnât come in. At first, you thought that he just overslept, he always came at nine am on the dot. But when he hasnât shown up by two pm, you decide that he was out of town for work, he always told you how busy he was with it.Â
Tom and Elisabeth had already gone home. Their shifts are until five pm, after that you handle the last costumers yourself. Normally they stop coming in after twenty past five, so when you hear footsteps, meaning someone had entered the cafe, you were surprised. You look up from the counter you were wiping down to see a blond man walking towards you. He rests his elbows on the counter while looking at the menu.Â
â Iâll have aâŚ..lavender late with whipped cream, please. â. You smile softly as you write down his drink. â W-What did I say something weird? â he asks. You shake your head as you start to make the drink. â No itâs just, thatâs the favourite drink of a friend of mine. â.Â
You see him smile as well as you hand him the steaming drink. He takes a sip, letting out an unconscious moan because of the sweet taste. â This is so good, I get why he wanted me to get you. â. You quickly give him a confused look.
âG-Get me? What do you mean? â. He takes another sip of his drink before placing it down on the plate that comes with the cup. He takes a long breath, probably because he has to say some hard news. Your grip on the counter tightens, your nails digging into the polished wood. â Sebastian send me. â.
Relieve washes over you like a cool wave. But anxiety is quick to follow. Why would Sebastian send someone? Did he die? No, impossible. Dead people canât send someone. â He wanted to speak with you in his office about your cafe. â. Before he continues with what he is saying, he takes a sip from his cup. A layer of soft, lavender coloured foam sticks to his upper lip. He wipes it away with the back of his hand.Â
â So are you coming or are you just gonna stand there? â he says. You swallow thickly. Something about this seems wrong. Why would Sebastian want to talk to you about your cafe? He never asked about it? You loosen the bow in your apron and place it on the counter once itâs of your hips. You walk around to counter to get to the man.Â
â Letâs go, â he says as he grabs a pair of keys from his jacket. It is now that you pay attention to the jacket. Itâs a leather jacket, a lavender branch embroidered on the back together with the words â Stan and Evans â, whoever they are. â  Like the jacket?â he asks as he holds the door open for you. You nod as wait for him to step out of the cafe so you can lock the doors.Â
â Iâm the â Evans â if you were wondering. â. Great, he has a name. You take another look at Evans. Blue jeans, grey shirt, jacket, black gloves, beany pulled over his ears with blond locks pocking out of it. At least he doesnât look like he will kill me.
You find out that the keys he pulled out of his jacket belong to a motorcycle when Evans sits down on it and puts the keys in it. He holds a helmet in the air for you. You grab it and pull it over your head. With a smooth swing of your leg, you take a seat on the bike behind Evans. You hesitantly wrap your arms around him. You can practically hear him smirk as he rides away from the cafe.
The cold wind pushes the strains of hair pocking under the helmet out of your face. The bright lights of New York contrast the pitch black sky above you. Evans gives the motor more speed, riding through every street and taking every turn just a tad to late because it â gives him a thrill â.Â
â Can you feel the wind?! â he yells at you while keeping his eyes on the road, thankfully. â Yeah, â you say as you keep on looking around you, trying to remember street names or shops. Itâs something that you read online. You can practically see the article before your eyes. â Remember streets names, shop, landmarks or other known areas when you are taken against your will. â. Well, your not completely taken against your will but for you, it feels the same.
â Almost there, â he says just loud enough for you to hear it. Your eyes quickly fall on a building. Bright letters saying â Stan and Evans â eliminate one side of it while the other is eliminated by the light coming out of the building itself. You can see people working through the windows. Some are talking to each other, others are on their computers. You see some man and woman talking to each other while wearing the same jacket Evans is wearing.Â
Evans stops the motorcycle in front of the building. A brunet wearing a tight red dress quickly walks towards him, he hands her the keys and his helmet. He turns around, clearly waiting for you to hand your helmet as well. You loosen the chin strap and pull the helmet over your head. You donât have to look at your hair to know that it is all messed up now.Â
With a small smile, you hand hear the helmet. She gives you a nod and walks away. â Come one, Sebastian is waiting. â. He opens the door of the building, a wave of cleaning supplies, cheap vodka and gingerbread cookies hits you. The combination of the three makes you want to gag but you stop your body from doing so. You follow Evans into the elevator that is next to an indoor fountain. Who has an indoor fountain?
The nervous elevator music is beginning to make your blood boiling. You tap your foot nervously as you try to prepare yourself for whatever is about the happen to you. An annoying âdingâ notices you that you arrived on the floor youâre supposed to be on, or on the floor where Evans wants you to be.Â
When the doors open, Evans quickly makes his way out of the small elevator/ You follow him because you really donât want to be left alone in the building. You pick up bits and pieces of conversations people have around you while you still try to put your focus on where the hell Evans is walking to.
â Has anyone seen Scarlet? Or Anthony? â a blond man asks with an Australian accent. You look at him for just a second. He is standing with a group of people, all wearing the same leather jacket Evans has. â Theyâre in his office. â.a man says from behind his desk. He too is wearing a leather jacket, but you can see the back of his. Another name is embroidered on the jacket. Itâs small and with a darker tread than the other embroideryâs. Kaluuya. Maybe thatâs his name.
You get pulled away from the conversation by Evans clearing his throat. You look up at him, now standing in front of some office. â Be nice to him. Itâll save your life. â. Of course, itâll save my life, kindness is important, right? Or did he mean- o god I hope not?
He opens the door and stuffs you into the office. You take a look around. You see Sebastian sitting behind a desk. A man and a woman, probably the Scarlet and Anthony the people outside were talking about, sitting in two chairs in front of him. The leather jacket is hanging from the wall in a glass frame. Different photos are hanging from the wall, but one catches your attention. Itâs a photo that was clearly made with a phone. It has Sebastian and you on it, Tom took the photo. It was during a rainstorm, Sebastian got into the cafe soaking.Â
Sebastianâs eyes fall on you, a small smile tucking on his face. â Weâll discuss it later, â he says to the people sitting in the chairs. They quickly make their way out of the office. You expect the banging of the door to go through the office like it does in movies, but it doesnât.
â Please, sit. â. Hesitantly, you walk towards the chairs in front of Sebastian and take a seat in one of them. They still smell like the leather of the jackets. â SoâŚâ you say as you start to fiddle with your hands. â You might be wondering why you are here, â Sebastian says as he runs a hand through his hair. You noticed that he did that whenever he was nervous. What was making him nervous now?
â See, I like your cafe. Like a lotâŚÂ â. You nod softly as you look at him. The smile on his face quickly grows at the sight of your face. â Really? I didnât notice, â you say sarcastically. You can hear Evans holding his breath, waiting for whatever Sebastian would say to you being sarcastic. Maybe he would have hit anybody else that was sarcastic to him, maybe he would kill them in cold blood, maybe he would laugh along with them. God, you wish you would never find out.
The soft chuckle releasing itself from him takes all your worries away. â Anyways, I didnât bring you here to talk about how amazing your cafe is, â he says with a serious tone. Oh, no. â I brought you here to talk about giving your cafe aâŚsecond location. Maybe in, I donât know, my building. â.
His building? Would he be the Stan on the jackets? â A second-What? â you ask in full shock. You were expecting him to say something about throwing you into the ocean with the sharks or about how you did something wrong, not about giving you a second location.
â A second location, in my building. So I can get my new drinks without having to travel whole New York for it. â. He says it so happy, so pure. Like thatâs really all he wants. His new drinks. You chuckle softly as you shake your head, the smile quickly dropping from his face. â A second location would be perfect for business, but I donât have enough money for it. â.Â
Sebastian reaches over the desk with his hand to grab yours that has been laying on the desk during the whole conversation. â Thatâs why you donât have to pay for it, â he says. â Iâll pay for the location, interior stuff like that. All you have to pay for is the coffee. â. A smile creeps his way into your face, spreading butterflies trough Sebastianâs stomach.Â
â Wha-What? Are you serious? This isnât a joke, right? â. The shake of Sebastianâs head brings you a wave of happiness. â O my god, I donât know how to thank you! â you say, now beaming. â Just give me a drink from time to time. â.
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