#i yearn for a late night coffee shop

[lorelune]

happy… saturday…

[sugarlywhispers]

b.katsuki x reader (fem) | prohero!bakugou x ex!reader (civilian)

a.n; HEAVY ANGST. PREPARE YOUSELVES TO CRY LIKE BABIES (like i did while writing this😭). Also, heavily inspired by this scene of a k-drama (LINK), but it doesn't follow the story of it or anything. I only used a little bit of the dialogue cuz 💔💔💔💔

02:01 a.m.

It's very late at night and Katsuki knows he shouldn’t be here. The moon is up in the night sky, shining bright, and the cold, winter wind would chill any other person’s bones. Yet he runs hot, so his level of cold is minimal; still, he wears his puff jacket, zipped up, and hands inside his pockets. The hoody over his head conceals his person a bit, yet it’s not necessary considering how cold it is no soul is wandering the streets. No sane person would willingly take a night walk in this weather.

Thanks to the old hag and dad for the quirk they give him, he literally is a walking human heater.

That’s what you used to call him. 

Katsuki sighs, the air he breathes out creating a mist that evaporates quickly due to the weather. He knows for sure you’d be cold right now. He would never admit it out loud, but even though the cold made it a tiny bit hard for him to use his quirk to its full potential, he liked the cold thanks to you. Or well, he liked the fact that you would stick to his side and be all over him thanks to how warm he was.

Your own personal human heater, it’s what you mockingly called him, smiling as you hide your face in his neck, arms hugging his torso inside his opened jacket –the same one he’s currently wearing, that you gifted him for one of his birthdays. Your body would stick so close to his, like trying to become one with him. Bakugou Katsuki would never admit it out loud, but he loved that you did that. He loved that you were so small compared to him that you would practically disappear from view whenever his body shielded yours. He loved that your cold nose over the skin of his neck made him want to purr like some stupid cat, spreading tingles all over his body. 

He loved that you used him for warmth when you were cold.

He loved you. He still fucking does. He loves you so fucking much it hurts.

And he knows you’re probably cold now.

And he’s not your human heater anymore. That hurts even more.

Katsuki sighs again, the vapor of his breath colliding with his face once again, as he stops in his tracks looking down at his shoes. He doesn’t need to look to know where he is. He has been taking this route on purpose for the last month.

He doesn’t know why he is doing this to himself. Maybe he is a fucking masochist who loves getting his heart beaten bloody and in pain. Yeah, maybe that’s it. Or maybe is because he still loves you and he couldn’t get you out of his head since Izuku shot him with the news.

You’re back. You're back in Japan. You even made your dream come true and opened a cozy coffee shop in the center of Tokyo, like you always wanted.

Katsuki had stayed. He stayed in Japan. He even made his own dream come true and became a successful pro hero, ranking number 2 –right behind Deku, but always competing with him for the first spot that goes up and down between the two. Like he always wanted.

You both got what you wanted. Except not all.

He doesn’t understand why he is here, in front of your little coffee shop crossing the street. Maybe he just wants a peek at you, a short glance at who you’ve become. Yet he knows. He knows you’re the freaking best. He knows you’re successful, you have always been fucking number one at everything you did. And your little business isn’t the exception. It is the talk of the city. He even saw a publicity of it on the TV yesterday. He had smiled proudly, thinking, “That’s my girl”. He had slapped his face in correction. You weren’t his anymore. He was not yours anymore. You two weren't together any-fucking-more.

Yet, here he is, yearning for a little glimpse of you like the air he needs to live.

It’s very late at night, it shouldn’t be even possible for you to be at the little shop at this hour. But if he knows you better, which he fucking does, he knows you’re there. Staying after hours to clean and let everything be prepped for the next day, like the overachiever little thing you are and always have been.

When Katsuki finally raises his head and looks, his eyes find you with ease. Your shop has glass walls, so it isn’t very difficult to distinguish where you are inside and what you’re doing. Your little form comes and goes around the empty shop, putting the last little Christmas decorations around. He chuckles, he was right, you’re still there. Figures.

He watches from a distance like he has been doing for the last month. He hadn’t run into you yet, considering his apartment is on the other side of the city –and fuck, yes, he has been avoiding patrols on this side where your coffee shop is. Call him a coward, he doesn’t fucking care. However, Izuku had bumped into you. He said you hugged him tightly, almost cried even, saying how much you have missed everyone. It made Katsuki wonder if he was included.

He snorts. Wouldn’t his wretched heart love that. Fucking masochist.

Katsuki watches you struggle a bit with an old ladder that you set right at the open door of the shop, clearly intending to climb it, decorations on your hands to put right over the frame. He frowns when you climb two steps and the ladder trembles. Fuck, you're fucking serious?? It’s pretty clear the thing is old enough to already be made barbecue fire. Why the hell do you have that thing?? After you’ve climbed almost half of it and still don’t reach the frame, the stupid ladder shaking like is about to fucking break under you, his worry said enough. His legs move fast, almost without will, but fully knowing you’re about to kiss the fucking floor thanks to that old ladder if he doesn’t move quickly. 

When he gets closer, he hears the distinctive crack of wood and your small worried gasp as you fall. You never get to touch the floor, because Bakugou Katsuki is already there, catching you on time.

Your eyes find his, opened wide in surprise. The warmth you used to hold in them is still there, capturing him like a moth stuck in honey, and he feels like he can breathe again.

“Kat– Bakugou…” The almost slip of his name doesn’t go unnoticed by either of you, tinting your cheeks in a cute shade of pink. Ah, yes, the little sparks inside his being you produced every time you even looked at him are still there too. He thought he had already extinguished them. But no, they’re still there.

“H-hi,” he wanted his voice to sound more sure, more firm. Yet it sounded like his throat was dry and constricted. Like he was holding back a fucking cry –which is true.

His eyes are glued to yours, his arms hold you tight against his body as both your breathing go back to normal. He doesn’t want to be the first one to break with any contact, so he waits. He enjoys this little bubble that’s been created between you two after years of not knowing anything about each other. Of being so far away from each other that Katsuki felt for the first time the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter. It literally felt like years of winter for him. A cold and merciless winter that made his heartache burn. And now, a simple touch, a closeness of your body to his, and he feels like spring just bloomed again.

How fucking pathetic of him.

“Hi,” you finally answer back, your breath colliding with his face. He breathes it in, feeling like that is just all he needs to survive –at least for one more second. The shy smile that adorns your face makes him want to smother you in kisses all over your face like he used to do. But he can’t. He fucking can’t now.

“I… Thanks,” your beautiful smiling eyes make him want to punch his stomach so the damn butterflies stop fluttering.

“Your ladder was fucking old,” he complains, putting your feet back on the ground.

Your giggles sound like the symphony of heaven in Katsuki’s ears.

“I know, I shouldn’t have trusted it would help me at all.”

“You could have had a stupid accident, dumbass,” he squats to pick up the broken pieces of the ladder and what was left of it under your watch.

He doesn’t see the way you smile at him, but he hears you say, “Some things never change, huh?”

You’re right. His feelings for you would never change. And, fucking hell, he tried. He tried so hard not to feel anything for you all these years. Yet every mention of your name made him melt like a weak ass marshmallow in a hot chocolate drink. He even found himself daydreaming about seeing you, talking to you, touching you in any way you would let him.

Again, how fucking pathetic.

Bakugou Katsuki hasn’t stopped loving you since the day you parted ways.

It had been a mutual decision. He was very focused on his training and work to be a pro hero; lots of agencies wanted him to join. You were surrounded by options too, yet you decided to quit any hero dream you once had and chose to live a mundane, quiet life. That’s when Thirteen offered to speak of you to a colleague in the USA for a scholarship to join a cooking course. Katsuki saw your eyes shine lively, happy when you told him.

He knew then and there that you were going away from him. And he was not going to stop you. You had your dream, he had his. He was never going to make you choose between him and your dream. Because if he had to pick between you and his own, he would have picked his dream. Don’t misunderstand, he loved you, and still does, to death. But both of you were young, kids trying to find a path in the new world left after the war. Healing, failing, succeeding. Sometimes tripping down and getting back up. You were simply kids trying to understand life. Not that it has been any easier as adults, on the contrary. But now the circumstances are different. All of you have matured, gotten wise even. And it’s that same wisdom that made Katsuki not reach out to you again, despite his all-consuming feelings for you.

Bakugou Katsuki is now pro hero Dynamight, one of the most successful heroes of this generation. Which also means, he is a target most of the time. Villains hate him as much as he hates them.

Katsuki would cut his own hands himself if something ever happened to you, especially if it was because of him.

“Where do you want this trash?” He asks standing up and looking back at you. Your eyes shine, glassy and watering looking under the night lights. His chest tightens when he realizes you’re holding back tears. Fuck, he can’t look at you, or he’ll start fucking crying too.

“T-there’s… umm…” you clear your throat, trying to find your normal voice. “There’s a small closet at the back of the shop, on the left side. Just throw it there.”

Katsuki nods, entering the nice coffee shop and following your directions. This whole interaction is more than he expected, more than he hoped for. He has been watching you from afar, like a pathetic stalker. Avoiding to breathe in the same direction you did. Because of this.

The tears. The yearning. The fucking love that clouded every sense in him. All for you.

When he walks back to the front of the shop, he finds you sitting at one of the small tables for two. You’re holding a cup of something, and another waits for him in the seat in front of you.

Katsuki takes one deep breath in before walking towards where you are. He sits but you don’t look at him, you’re looking down at the cup between your small hands. He slightly smiles, he knows what you’re doing. Your hands are always cold, so you like holding the cup between your hands with anything warm in it to try to warm them. You have done this since he could remember, and that thought makes his insides sparkle. You haven’t changed at all.

Yet many things have changed.

The sweet and warm smell of hot chocolate fills his nostrils, and the smile widens on his face as he sees the contents of his cup. Katsuki isn’t the type to like sweet things, yet your hot chocolate has always been his weakness.

He hasn’t had it in years, since you moved away to another continent, so he can avoid to enjoy quite thoroughly the first sip. And yeah, it tastes just as he remembers. All you.

There’s silence. He doesn’t push a conversation and neither do you. You both just drink your hot cocoa and wait. Wait for anyone to gather some courage and say something.

There’s so much to say, so much to ask, so much to answer. Yet the bubble is nice and cozy, Katsuki really doesn’t want to be the one to pop it.

Right at the last sip of the drink, you are the one who decides to finally pop the bubble.

“I know,” it’s all you say, and Katsuki understands it perfectly.

You know he has been around. You know he has been watching from afar, carefully protecting you from the shadows. You know he has sent Izuku and Eijirou more times than he cares to admit just so he knew you were okay, safe. You know it had been Katsuki the one who dealt with that piece of trash who left the shop without paying and sent the money via mailing to you. You know he was the one who hung the big sign of your shop after it fell due to a strong windy day. You know he has been aware of every one of your moves around the shop for a month.

You know.

“I was… I didn’t want to-...” His voice breaks when he looks up and sees the tears running down your cheeks. His own eyes fill with uncontrollable tears he knows he won’t be able to hold back any longer either.

For the first time, Katsuki thinks his heart won’t survive this.

Despite this, he smiles genuinely at you and asks, “H-how have you been doing?”

You don’t break eye contact as you clean the tears from your face and murmur a simple, “Good.”

Katsuki knows himself well, and he knows he is a complete bastard. Because it pisses him off. It makes him mad that you’re good when he carries this turmoil of feelings for you that are making him go insane day by day.

He feels his insides bursting, all the emotions spilling out from his being pathetically as he cries in front of you. “Really?” One nod in answer. And he can’t stand looking at your facade of neutral features as tears keep escaping your eyes in betrayal.

Katsuki snorts, forearms leaning over the table and his head hanging low, “Why it fuckin’ annoys me that you’re doing well? Damn it.”

“You don’t actually mean that…”

“I do, I always mean everything I fuckin’ say,” he leans back against the chair, eyes going back to yours. His probably are even redder thanks to his tears, just like yours already look puffy from yours.

Katsuki decides then that this is the moment. This is the moment to finally pour out everything he has been carrying inside for you.

“Because you see, as I’m sure you’re aware now, day by fuckin’ day, I’m dying a little more inside without you. And you’re just– doing well.”

The sudden cry that leaves your being makes him want to hold you, and the little sobs only sink him more into the pit of feelings he named ‘Y/N’. Because he hasn’t been able to get out of it, nor has he actually put enough effort to, swimming there painfully pleasantly.

And yet… there you are. Doing well.

So well, that you are going to marry another guy.

Katsuki stretches his arm over the table and reaches without struggle the wrist of one of your hands that hides your crying face. You let him bring that hand toward the table, and he holds it in between his. He smiles again; he was right, your hands are always cold.

“Y-you waited…” you weep, your other hand resting over your chest, right where your heart is.

He nods, “I waited…”

You close your eyes, head going to a side and sobbing again. It hurts him so much to see you like this, just as much as the thought of another man being the carer of that precious heart of yours.

“Oh, Katsuki…”

The way you whimper his name like it physically hurts you, made him want to vomit. It brought a new deep pain to his chest that he doubts he is ever going to recover from.

There’s silence again, both of you sniffing and trying to gather your emotions back in control.

He doesn’t know why he came here. Probably he needed a confirmation of what Izuku told him after his first encounter with you.

“She’s going to marry, Kacchan,” Izuku’s words had been like an ice-cold bucket of water thrown at his back, leaving him breathless and distressed. But it didn’t compare with the next bomb, “because she’s pregnant. She wanted the ceremony to be here, in commemoration of her parents.”

He pucked right then and there; Izuku being the best fucking friend he always has been tended to Katsuki’s breakdown that day. The nerd even held him in a tight hug as he bawled his soul out.

But again, the pain doesn’t compare to the living proof right in front of his eyes now.

The hand he’s holding in between his is the one where an engagement ring adorns your beautiful finger. A ring that should have been from him, and not that other guy.

The very discreet little bump on your abdomen he got to feel when he caught you when you fell from the old ladder makes him boil with frustration. That should have been his little brat inside you, and not the other guy’s.

Bakugou Katsuki really feels like a sword has stroked right through the middle of his heart.

And it doesn’t matter anymore, he’s going to die watching from afar how the love of his life is being united to another guy. Well, you already are.

Ah. 

Katsuki didn’t mind the cold. The quirk his parents gave him made him run hot most of the time. 

Yet, from now on, Katsuki thinks he’s going to feel the piercing cold everyone talks about in winter forever.

He thinks he’s going to hate the cold now.

[starcrossedreaders]

Pure

  Parings: Rookie!Virgin!Leon Kennedy x Virgin!fem!Reader

Summary: You and Leon have finally made it to the next step of the relationship. Only problem is, you’re both virgins. 

Warnings: Fem Reader 18+ very very fluffy smut that is taken very very slow. Smut with training wheels essentially :) Protected sex (please wear protection anytime you are active) p in v, missionary, mutual masturbation, squirting cunnilingus both male and female

Authors note: This idea came to me late at night sooo, I highly suggest listening to Pure by Cigarettes After Sex because this is HEAVILY inspired by that song. Enjoy!

•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•

The comfort Leon’s lips brought to you was unimaginable. Your tongues danced together at a slow pace. His hands were on your hips, gripping slightly each time you moved a little. Leon couldn’t stand the foreign feeling that was brewing in is gut. It made him hot and heavy and aching for something that wasn’t there.

You and Leon have been dating for little over a year. Having met in a coffee shop on the day after your 21st birthday. Leon had bumped into you, sending the dark liquid crashing all over your clothes. Leon stumbled over his words as he tried to fix his mistake, cursing at his clumsiness. Maybe it was the left over alcohol in your system, or your love for food, but, you had told him he can make it up to you by buying you lunch. Of course Leon could never say no to a beautiful girl like you, and he was wiling to make it up to you in whatever way possible. Soon, lunch led to dinner dates, dinner led to hanging out, and hanging out led to dating, and dating led you guys here, with you in Leon’s lap kissing slowly.

You and Leon had agreed to take it slow so you guys have never pushed your physical intimacy past making out. If Leon was being honest, he liked it this way. Due to his up bringing in a strict religious household anything that went along the lines of sex or masturbation was strictly prohibited. Even when Leon moved out he was so busy with the police academy that sex wasn’t his top priority. Leon couldn’t bring himself to do it, he knew nothing of the nature and he was quiet embarrassed about it. Especially, since his girlfriend is a big advocate in sexual health. He’s over heard conversations you’ve had with friends about how it’s okay for them to not get off to penetration, foreplay is what majority of people use to reach their climax.  Leon didn’t know what foreplay or climax met, and that only scared him more for when the day you guys do decided to take the next step. 

For you though, you were more then ready to take that step. Despite you waiting for the right person to get intimate with, you fully believe that person is Leon. Your vibrator was starting to bore you, and your hand was to mundane. You needed to be filled, more then just your ring and middle fingers. You needed his tongue lapping at your apex as you rake your hands through his hair. You needed to be filled so deep that the tip is bumping into your cervix. You need to be manhandled, tied to a bed and blind folded, or riding a certain someone past no return. But of course, you waited, staying ever the  more patient with your lover. ‘Good things come to those who wait’ was something you constantly told yourself in the late hours of the night when you yearned to feel your boyfriend deep inside of you.

Pulling back for air, you bring your hand down to wipe away the saliva that ran down Leon’s chin. His blue eyes pierced into yours as you two looked at each other.

“Everything okay love?” His whispers floated past your lips and filled the quiet room.  You couldn’t wait anymore. The way you could feel his bulge beneath you, his huge arms gripping you, and the taste of him on your lips, you had to have him, and now. 

“Can.... Can I ask you a serious question?”

“Of course,” He smiled at you as he rubbed idle circles on your hips.

“Are you... Are you willing to take the next step in our relationship? If you don’t want to that’s okay, it’s just...” You trail off of your sentence when you notice the pale expression on your boyfriend’s face. One of his biggest fears came true and he didn’t know how to handle it.

Your voice softened as you cup his cheek, “Hey it’s okay, we don’t have to I was just wondering,”

Leon was quick to shake his head, “No, no it’s not that...”

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Then what is it?”

Silence filled your shared room as Leon turned his head to look away from you. Red floated up to the tips of his ears and flowed down all the way to his neck.

“I- I uh, um,” He trapped his swollen bottom lip in-between his teeth. 

“Leon I promise it’s fi-,”

“I’m still a virgin! I don’t know anything about sex, when I hear you talking to your friends about it I don’t even understand most of the words you use, and I’m afraid. I’m afraid that I’m not going to make you feel good, and then you’ll leave me an-” Your lips crashed into Leon’s bruised lips. You had cut Leon of just as he had done to you

Pulling back you looked at Leon pondering what to tell him, ”Love, I’m a virgin too,”

“R-really?”

“Yes really. I had told myself I was going to wait to till I’m with the right person, and Leon you are that person for me, no matter what you have and haven’t done. We will take it slow, establish boundaries as we go and if you are uncomfortable with it, we will stop.” You thumb stroked his cheek as he looked at you will big doe eyes that were slightly glossed over.

He nodded his head slightly and you returned your lips to his. The kiss was slow and passionate. Despite his tongue dipping past your lips there was nothing eager about the kiss. Pulling back you started to trail kisses down Leon’s jaw. Starting from the edge of mouth and moving lower tracing the sharp lines of his jaw with your lips. When you reached his neck you started to suck and bite, causing him to groan. After leaving a few love bites you pulled back and toyed with the hem of his shirt.

“Consent is everything, always ask before you do. It might be redundant but it helps establish trust, and quite frankly I think it’s very very hot,” Leon plays with the hem of your shorts as he nods his head.

“May I?” You tug a little at his shirt.

“Mhm,” he eagerly nodded his head before you were quick to lift his shirt over his head.

Leon was quick to connect your lips again this time he takes the lead. He followed you actions and left hickies all along your neck and down to your cleveage. 

“May I take your shirt off love?” his voice was soft as it floated to your ears.

“Of course,” Leon’s calloused hands traveled up from your thighs to the inside of your shirt around your stomach. His soft touch sent shivers down your spine as he took his hands out from your shirt and gripped the hem of your shirt. He gave you one last look for confirmation before he slowly lifted it up. He stopped right before your perked up nipples. 

“It’s okay love, here let me help you,” Your hands landed on top of his and you slowly guided his hands up, up and over your head. 

Matching pink adorned cheeks sat on your guys faces as Leon took in the sight in front of him, and you watch Leon practically drool over your tits. 

“C-can I touch them?” This was the first time Leon had seen you this naked, and if he was being honest, he was a little upset that this is what he has been missing out on for so long. 

You could feel your arousal pool into your shorts “Gods, please Leon, touch me, I want to feel your hands all over me,” You were quick to grab his hands and lead them to your aching nipples. 

His cold hands made you arch your back further into his touch as a moan laid in the back of your throat. “Fuck Leon,” 

Your hands held onto his as he rolled your left nipple in his hand and dived back into your neck. This feeling was indescribable the ecstasy was too addicting, and you wanted more, you wanted to be inebriated all the time. 

Your hands trailed down your body and slowly made their way to Leon’s soaked crotch. You didn’t know if it was his fluids or yours, in fact it was probably a mix of both of them.

“Fuck Leon, can I touch you, please let me touch you,” Your hands ghosted over his crotch and his breath hitched.

“P-please,” Leon lifted his hips up and tried to yank his boxers down, in his futile attempt you had finished the job for him. 

His raging cock sprang out and smack him in the stomach. The tip was an angry red with pre-cum oozing out from the top. The vein underneath was bulging and all you could do was stare. Your own arousal slid down your leg on to his, “Fuck Y/N, take them off,” Leon’s voice had darken in demand, taking your bottom lip in your teeth you eagerly nod your head and lift off of Leon to slide your shorts off. Who were you to say no to him? 

Your sopping pussy was the most beautiful thing Leon has ever seen in his life his cock twitched, yearning to be stuffed deep in your dripping hole. 

“Can I touch it?” Your soft voice pulled Leon out of his trance. Leon eagerly nodded his head.

You clicked your tongue and lean into Leon’s ear, “Use your words baby,” the groan that came from the back of his throat was music to your ears. His grip on you was sure to leave bruises but you didn't mind, you wanted this night to last forever. 

“Fuck, yes! Touch me. Use me however you want, I'm yours,” You leaned back on his thighs and bent over slightly. Hovering over his angry cock you collected a ball of spit on the tip of your tongue. Parting your lips you let is slowly fall down on top of  his member. A thin string of saliva kept you connected before your pointer finger spread the natural lubricate.

Leon thought he was going to cum right then and there. He’s never cummed before, if that’s what it’s even called but the bubbling feeling in his groin was over whelming. His hips bucked into your hand for more friction. Being the loving girlfriend you are you gave him what he wanted and wrapped your hand around his pulsing cock. He was so thick your fingers barely touched each other on either side. Starting at a slow pace you went up up up, then down down down. Leon’s whimpers made you clench around thin air. You could see him tighten his core with each pump and you knew he wouldn’t last any longer. 

His strained gasps filled the room, “F-fuck, I’m going to c-cu-,” You were quick to wrap your lips around the tip of his cock and kitten lick the slit. Salty pre-cum coated your tongue and you couldn’t have enjoyed the taste more. The warm feeling of your mouth caused Leon to jerk forward and grip your hair. 

“Fuck fuck fuck fuck FUCK,” sliding your head down further Leon pulsed in your mouth as hot streams of cum coated the back of your throat. Trying not to choke  you were quick to pull off of his cock and swallow every single last drop of cum he gave you. You pumped his cock a few more times before his hand gripped yours making your stop.

You sat up and bent over to the nightstand next to Leon, “Whenever we have sex you’re using a condom, if it’s not wrapped we’re not playing,” You opened the top drawer and tore a single condom off the string of them. 

“O-of course,” Leon’s breath was shaky.

 On the outside he might seem very nervous but on the inside he is doing cartwheels, he’s so excited to feel what it would be like to be inside of you. If your mouth was that heavenly you pussy had to be even better.

You hum in delight, “May I?”  His eager nods was enough conformation for you.

 Leon thought the look you gave him would make him cum on the spot. As you brought the shiny purple foil packet to your teeth, your eyes bore straight into his while you bat your lashes. You gripped the packet between your top and bottom teeth. As you pulled the packet down the foil slowly ripped open to reveal the lubed up latex. When you took it out of the wrapping your nose scrunched up at the slimy texture.  

“I’m going to put it on now,” Leon couldn’t form any coherent words. All he could do was squeeze his eyes shut and throw his head back.

You gently place the cold rubber on Leon’s red tip. The cool sensation caused him to buck his upwards. In one fluid motion you slide the condom down while his hips went up. You made sure to leave room at the top to collect his cum.  Still sitting back on his thighs you leaned back further putting your left hand on his ankle for support. Spreading your thighs apart you took your right hand and dipped your middle and ring finger between your folds. Your glistening pussy caused Leon’s dick to jerk on it’s own.

“Fuckk baby, you’re that wet?” Leon’s groans made you throw your own head back.

“See what you do to me Leon, you drive me insane,” You rubbed a few circles on your aching clit before slowing sinking your two fingers in your soppy hole. 

Gasping from the sudden intrusion your fingers curled up against your walls causing your juices to drip from your hand. 

“P-please, please please please let me feel you wrap around me, I can’t handle this anymore,” Leon begging was like a orchestra, an orchestra you could listen to all day.

Leon didn’t appreciate how lightly you took his begging, he was serious and he was dead set on being in you. Leon hooked his each hand behind your knees and slide you all the way to his chest. Chest to chest your hand was flushed against his crotch, although this didn’t last long. Wrapping your legs around his waist he dipped you back with your head slightly hanging off of the bed and him caging you in. 

Leon was quick to yank your hand out of your wet hole as he lowered himself in-between your thighs. “Are you okay if I get a taste?” 

You couldn’t believe your boyfriend, your sweet shy boyfriend is asking to eat you out. Lifting your head slightly you nod your as your wrap your fingers in his silky hair and buck your hips into his nose,

“Ah ah, use your words sweet girl,”

“YES! Yes please eat me out, I’ll do anything,” You shoved his head to your soaking core and he obliged to your begging.

Wrapping his hands around your thighs to keep them open he stuck his tongue out and licked one big stripe from your leaking hole to your puffy clit. The pornographic moan you let out had Leon slightly grinding his aching cock against the mattress. 

“hmm fuck, you taste s’good,” Leon feasted upon you like a starved man. His tongue abused your clit with his small kitten licks and occasional kiss. 

His nose bumped into your clit as he moved his tongue to your hole, teasing it slightly. Suddenly, he plunged his tongue in hitting the spongy spot you have dreamed about him hitting. Arching your back off the mattress your thighs squeezed his had as you pulled his hair. 

“Oh fuck,” 

“You like that baby?” His voice vibrated up your core causing your feet to curl. 

Leon took this reaction as a good sign and continued to hit the same spot over and over again, despite his muscle getting tired, he would do anything to make you cum. 

White spots invaded your vison as blood rushed to your hanging head. With the faint feeling and the overwhelming pleasure you could feel the knot tightening.

“Le-Leon,” Your breathes came out raggedy.

He hummed in acknowledgement sending more vibrations to your core, “I-I’m going to cu-cum, oh fuck,” 

“Let go pretty girl, cum all over my face. Gods you taste so sweet,” His pace quickened  and soon you were falling.

The knot snapped and stars flooded your vision as Leon drowned in your ecstasy. 

“Fuck, just like that,” His thumbs rubbed circles on your thighs as you came down from the stars. 

Leon slid your body down so your head was no longer hanging off of the bed. Your juices dripped from his chin onto your chest as he leaned over you caging your in.

“My sweet girl,” He crashed his lips into yours allowing you to taste your own juices. 

You wiggled your hand in-between your sweaty bodies and pumped his raging cock. Leon moaned into the kiss the faster you moved your hand. Pulling back Leon wiped the rest of your juices with the back of his hand. 

“Open up love,” Leon pinched your chin  between his pointer, his index and his thumb just like the morning paper he reads every Sunday.

He softly opened your mouth for you and shoved his middle and ring finger in your mouth, “Now suck,” 

The newfound dominance had you wanting more, always you wanted more. You loved seeing your boyfriend crack out of his shell. Of course, you loved his soft side too, but there something about the way he can easily over-power you and have you at his mercy that made your pussy throb.  

Following your orders, your tongue worked around each digit before giving each one their own undivided attention. You would suck occasionally as your tongue waltzed around his fingers. You guys stayed like this for a few moments, you pumping his cock while you sucked on his fingers.

Once Leon was satisficed with your work he was quick to pull his fingers out of your mouth, “Such a good girl,”

Your fingers trailed his as he lowered them down to your core, “May I?” He quickly glanced in your direction.

“Please Leon, stuff my pussy with your fingers,” you groaned as you bucked your hips up for some friction.

“Yea? My sweet girl wants to be full? I think I could mange that,” Soon, he plunged his wet fingers in your hole. You arched your back off of the bed as both your hand went to grip the bedsheet.

“No,no,no love, you still have jerk me off. Can you do that for me?” His angelic voice contradicted his sinful acts.

You simply nodded your head as you brought your right hand back to pump his cock. Leon’s fingers curled upwards hitting the tip of your cervix, that made you see stars. Your tongue stuck out with drool dripping down the side of your mouth and your eyes in the back of your head. Leon’s abuse on your cervix got harder and faster and all you could think about is coming undone again. Although this time it felt different.... too different.

Your right hand gripped Leon’s moving arm and you scrunched up and squealed in his ear, “Leon s-stop I’m go-going to p-” before you could finish your pleas clear juices came out like a waterfall. You had just squirted all over your boyfriend, from his chest all the down to his thighs. Leon had just made you squirt. An act you thought your body would never be able to do, especially during your first time, and your boyfriend had just proved you wrong. 

“oh what the fuck-” Leon mumbled under his breath as he pulled his soaked fingers out.

“What was that?” Leon was afraid he just hurt you. Did he break open something inside of you? are you in pain? Why the fuck was that so hot?

“Are you okay?” Falling back on the soaked bed you just nodded your head.

“I just squirted... Holy shit, I just squirted!” Leon was so confused.

“Sooo, I didn’t hurt or break you?” Your gazed soften at his concerned words.

“No love, you just took me to heaven and back. Now I want you to do it again. I can’t get enough of your Leon, I need you in me,”

“Are you sure, We can do that an-,” Your hand grabbed his still throbbing cock and led it towards your entrance.

“Please fill me,” 

“Who am I to tell you no, you’ve been so good to me tonight,” His hand wrapped around yours as he teased your hole before sticking to tip in.

 Leon thought he was going to cum right then and there. He was quick to pull back, “Baby I can’t, anymore and I’ll cum right away,”

“Come on baby, you can  it, I believe in you. Take a deep breath, you can do it,” Leon followed your soft words as he stuck the tip back in. He took a sharp breath in-between his teeth as he eased himself into you. His head was thrown back and his eyes were glued shut.

The burning sensation brought tears to your eyes, how were you going to fit his thick cock into you is a mystery but you will sure as hell will try to take it all. Leon was about half way in when he finally opened his eyes and looked down at you. Fat tears slide down your cheeks as your forearm rested over your eyes.

Leon lightly pulled your arm away placing your hand above your head as tangled his fingers with yours. “Baby look at me,” 

Opening your eyes you looked up to find Leon already looking back at you. His blue eyes bore into yours as he halted his movements.

“Are you okay?” His hand cups your face as he brushes a few stray tears away.

You nod your head a little, “Y-yes, the more you move the less it’ll hurt,” He just nodded his a head a little before he resumed his advancements. 

The feeling of your warm pussy sheathed around him almost hurt but he couldn’t bring himself to pull out. You needed this just as much as he did, and he is willing to give it all to you. 

Your legs wrapped around his waist with your feet slightly resting on his butt, pulling Leon in a little closer he finally bottomed out. All Leon could do is stay there in pure ecstasy.

“Let me know when you want me to move,” His words come out as a breathy moan as he looked down at you. Your bottom lip was trapped in-between your teeth as your eyes squeezed shut. 

Taking a deep breath in, on the exhale you opened your eyes, “Okay..” Leon barely missed your que for him.

Sliding his hips back he was quick to move them forward again. His pace was slow and steady as his hips rocked back and forth against yours. Your back arched up and off of the bed as your nails found salvation on Leon’s back that would for sure leave red marks in the morning. 

Leon dipped his head down near you ear, his sweet whimpers was the only thing you could hear. Moans pushed past your lips as you craved more.

“Faster,” You let out breathy moans as Leon  picked up his pace. 

The bed slightly creaked under your moving bodies as moans filled the room. With each thrust you were brought closer and closer to edge. Leon whispered sweet nothings into your ear. 

A bead of sweat formed in his hairline as he kept up his pace. Your pussy was squeezing him so tightly. He knew he was close, and he hoped you were just as close.

“Fuck baby I’m going to cum,” Slapping skin and moans filled the room as you each neared your release. 

Hot breath slid down your neck before Leon trailed kisses all along your collarbone.

“I’m close, I’m so so close,” Your words were like a mantra repeating over and over again.

Your clenched pussy made it harder for Leon to move as he got closer and closer. 

“Leon, Leon Le-,” Arching up and off of the bed you fully clenched around him as you were pushed over the edge. Your juices wrapped around his cock and dripped out between your bodies. 

The warmth of your pussy and wetness of your ecstasy was the final straw for Leon. “Fuck,” with one last slam of his hips into yours his cum filled the condom. 

Your eyes stayed shut as you focused on your breathing, Leon trailed soft kisses around your face before he reached your lips. His soft lips pressed into yours before he spoke up once again. “I love you so much.”

[kezzanza]

DON'T STOP CAUSE I'M HALFWAY THERE.

Pairing: Jude x Girlfriend ! Reader Tags: First Time, Established Relationship Word Count: 4.6k Content Warning: Smut, 18+ It's a cold autumn night when you and Jude take your relationship to the next level.

It's September, and late nights in Dortmund are cold, but the living room you're in feels like a warm sanctuary.

Jude's warmth wraps around you as you rest your head on his shoulder. Your legs lie comfortably on the couch, tucked beneath a blanket that offers a warm refuge from the chill. One of his arms cradles you gently. Being inside his embrace makes you feel perfectly at ease.

The flickering images of the opening credits dance across the TV, casting a soft light throughout the room. This moment feels deeply intimate and romantic. It's as if the world outside has faded into insignificance. Leaving only the calmness of the evening you and Jude are sharing.

With your parents out of town, the house is yours for the weekend. They trust you to be responsible, knowing you've never been a troublemaker. As you glance at the time on the clock above the TV, you start to wonder if their trust was misplaced. It's late and you really shouldn't be home alone with your boyfriend. Yet, as you steal a glance at Jude, you can't help but feel that there's nowhere else either of you should be but right here.

Everything about tonight—watching a movie and spending time with Jude—feels like a balm for your soul after an exhausting week at university.

Jude's handsome face glows softly in the light of the screen. You imagine tracing your fingers gently across his perfect features, feeling the contours of his face beneath your touch.

He's dressed in cozy gray sweatpants and a white t-shirt. It's a stark contrast to the football kit you're used to seeing him in. You realize how much you've missed seeing him like this—comfortable and at ease.

There's something heartwarming about seeing him in these simple clothes. It makes the evening feel even more special. Tonight, for both of you, is a needed break from the hectic pace of life.

The movie begins with a busy city street, alive with the morning buzz. The camera zooms in on a charming coffee shop. The barista makes cappuccinos and lattes with pretty patterns on top. The protagonist, a cheerful dreamer, bursts into the café with her enthusiasm lighting up the room.

You know this movie so well that you could recite the lines in your sleep. It's your favorite—a cheesy romantic comedy from the 2000s that has been your comfort during life's overwhelming moments. For you, this film isn't just a story; it's a cherished ritual.

It's even more special because Jude is here, watching your comfort film with you. Your heart swells with affection over the little things—the way you both laugh over silly dialogue, how he playfully rolls his eyes at the more ridiculous scenes, and the intensity with which he focuses on the more serious moments.

The scene on the TV grows more heated, showing the couple entwined on a bed. Their passion is evident in the way their hands move across each other's bodies. A surge of emotion stirs within you at the scene. You find yourself yearning to kiss Jude with an intensity you can hardly ignore.

You steal a quick glance at him, and as if sensing your gaze, he turns toward you. With a knowing smile, Jude sets the popcorn on the side table. His fingers trace delicate patterns on your upper arm, sending tingles through your skin. The space between you feels charged.

"I thought you wanted to watch the movie?" Jude asks, a hint of mischief in his voice.

"Maybe later," you say, your eyes twinkling with a matching playfulness.

The film is your favorite, but it's clear your attention is elsewhere.

Jude leans in closer, his gaze never leaving yours. The silence grows more intense with each passing second. The air is thick with longing. You wanted his lips on yours more than anything else.

Jude's hand that is not wrapped around you reaches out and gently brushes a stray hair from your face. His eyes search yours for permission. When he finds it, he closes the distance between you.

The first kiss is a whisper. Soft and gentle, as if savoring each delicate moment of contact. As your lips respond, the kiss deepens, becoming more consuming. The initial sweetness gives way to a burning passion. Each movement of his lips showing his unspoken desire.

The sound of the film becomes a distant murmur, replaced by the rhythm of your racing heart. His hand glides from your shoulder to the small of your back, pulling you closer.

You'd made out with him before—in the locker room after his games, on the rooftop of his apartment under the moonlight—but never like this, in an empty house where it's just the two of you.

Every touch, every caress, feels like a promise of something more. But just as the kiss reaches its peak, Jude pulls back. You wonder for a fleeting moment if this is the end of the kiss, but you notice the remote in his hand. He pauses the movie, his eyes dark with lust. The movie, once the center of the evening's plan, is completely forgotten as he pulls you onto his lap.

The blanket slips from your legs, pooling softly on the floor. Without its shielding, your body is now fully exposed to him. The soft pink shorts you're wearing, with their delicate silk fabric, hug your hips snugly. Your white tank top clings to your body, the fabric molding to your curves.

Every movement feels intensified as you feel his body against yours. The warmth of his touch contrasts with the coolness of the room. You feel the solid strength of his body beneath you as you wrap your arms around his shoulders.

His muscular thighs are firm and warm. The fabric of his sweatpants is soft against the bare skin of your legs. The thought that only a few millimeters of cloth separates his skin from yours makes your pulse quicken.

Jude's touch was gentle yet confident. His hands explore your body with a firmness that makes your pulse quicken. His eyes, once reflecting the soft glow of the screen, are now burning into yours. The arousal you've been trying to ignore all evening unleashes the second you look at him.

Grabbing the hem of your tank top, he pulls it over your head, leaving you in just a bra and your tiny shorts. He slides his hands up the smooth skin of your waist. His touch sends waves of heat through you, leaving you gasping for more.

"Jude, wait," you breathe, your voice a mix of desire and uncertainty as his fingers trace lazy circles on your hips.

The most you had done with Jude—and any other boyfriend for that matter—was make out. You didn't have a lot of experience and you didn't know if you were ready. Jude pauses, his hand hovering just above your skin, waiting for you to continue.

"What is it?" he whispers, his voice thick with longing, but also concern.

You bite your lip, trying to gather your thoughts. "I want you but ... I'm scared," you confess, your heart pounding in your chest.

His expression softens as he wraps his arm securely around your waist. "Baby, look at me," he says gently, tilting your chin up so your eyes meet. "We don't have to do anything you're not ready for."

You take a deep breath as his words settle around you like a warm embrace. "But I want to and ... I trust you," you whisper, feeling the tension ease from your body.

"We won't go all the way tonight, love," Jude murmurs, his voice a soothing caress. "But I want to make you feel good."

He smiles tenderly, his lips brushing against yours in a delicate kiss. The warmth of his touch, so tender and reassuring, melts away your fears.

In his gaze, you find an unspoken promise. With it, the trust you have in him soothes the worries within you. His arms tighten around your waist as he leans in. The kiss is fierce and hungry. Your heart races as his hands explore the curves of your body, sending shivers down your spine. You become lost in the intensity of the moment. Your fingers tangle in his soft, short, curly hair.

It feels wrong to be doing this in the house your parents entrusted to you. But you've both danced around the boundaries of your physical affection for too long. Tonight would be different, marking a turning point in your relationship.

In the heat of the moment, his thigh pressed between yours, brushing against your core through the thin fabric of your shorts. A jolt of electricity shot through you, making you moan into his mouth. He pulled back slightly, his eyes questioning, dark with a mix of curiosity and desire.

Jude's eyes flick down to where his thigh is pressing between your legs, then back up to your face. A knowing smile played at the corners of his lips. He shifted his thigh upwards. The pressure and pleasure increases and your breath hitches.

"You like that?" His voice was a whisper, a tease that sent a warm shiver down your spine.

The fabric of your panties grows wetter with your arousal, a silent confession to the heat building between you. You nodded, biting your lower lip, unsure how to proceed but unable to stop the wave of arousal that was building inside you.

"Touch me," you plead, your voice barely above a whisper.

He kisses you then, a slow kiss that speaks of all the passion and tenderness he had for you. His tongue tangles with yours, igniting a fire within you that burns hotter with each passing second.

As the kiss deepens, his hand moves from your waist to your bare thigh. His fingers slip beneath the hem of your shorts. You gasp into his mouth. Your body trembles with need as his fingers dance higher, inching closer to the heat between your legs.

"Jude," you moan, hips instinctively pressing towards his hand, begging for more.

"Are you sure, baby?" he asks. His voice is strained with the effort to hold back, but ensuring you were comfortable was more important to him. "Want me to make you feel good?"

"Please, Jude," you breathe, your voice filled with determination.

Jude lifts you off the couch effortlessly. Your legs instinctively wrap around his waist as you let out a soft, surprised sound at suddenly being airborne. His strong arms encircle you, pulling you close to his chest. You feel his warmth seep through into your bare skin as he carries you out of the dark living room and into the well-lit hallway.

"Jude, what are you doing?" you say, looking up at him. Huffing out a laugh at his spontaneous actions.

"Taking you somewhere," he replies with a mischievous smile.

The stairs creak softly under his weight.

You feel the reassuring thud of his heartbeat, a steady tempo that calms your own racing heart. As he ascends the stairs, you find yourself relaxing into his embrace, your head resting against his shoulder. He pauses at the top, giving you a tender look before continuing down the hallway to your bedroom.

He enters and you're met with the darkness of your bedroom, the only light coming from the faint light of the hallway. Inside, Jude carefully lowers you on your plush mattress. The bed dips slightly under your weight and you sink into the soft, inviting comfort.

With a soft click, Jude switches on the bedside lamp. Its warm, golden light gently spills across the room, illuminating the space with an intimate glow.

He takes off his shirt, leaving his muscled torso on display, then kneels between your legs on the bed. Gently, he pushes your legs and brings them up to your chest. His touch is careful and affectionate. With brown eyes filled with affection, he looks at you and brushes your hair away from your face.

Jude leans in, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. His lips lingering for a moment as if to savor the connection. The soft light wraps around you both as you share this tender moment. In his presence, everything else fades away, leaving just the two of you, entwined in each other's embrace.

Jude's eyes never leave yours as he reaches for the hem of your shorts. His touch is tender as he begins to peel them away, revealing your bare skin to the cool night air. He drops the pink fabric to the floor and runs his fingers up and down your thigh. You watch as his gaze traces the path of his fingertips, his eyes dark with a mix of passion and admiration.

The sensation of his touch sends shivers down your spine. His hand lingers for a moment, as if memorizing the contours of your thigh before it travels up to rest on your waist. You hold your breath, unsure of what's to come, but knowing that with Jude, it will be nothing short of perfect.

Jude looked at you with eyes that seemed to hold the warmth of a thousand sunsets. His hands, gentle yet firm, reached around your back as he unhooked your bra with a touch so deft it was as if he had done it a hundred times before.

As he pulls the garment off you, the cool air whispers against your skin, leaving you feeling both exposed and incredibly alive. In his expression, you saw a mix of admiration and desire that made your heart flutter like a caged bird being set free.

He takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him. His gaze lingering on the soft mounds of your breasts. Then, Jude's palms meet the tender flesh. His thumbs circle the skin before gently taking your nipples between his forefingers and thumbs. He rolls them softly, watching as they respond to his touch, becoming taut and sensitive as a soft moan escapes your lips.

"You're so beautiful," he whispers, his voice low and husky, filled with sincerity and adoration.

The words hang in the air, a tangible weight that presses against your chest. You meet his gaze, your heart pounding in sync with the rhythm of his breath.

Your voice is a soft whisper as you reply, "I need you, Jude." His name lingers on your lips, a silent invitation.

His brown eyes are filled with a hunger that mirrors your own. You hold his stare, letting him see the truth in your eyes. The air is thick with anticipation, and every beat of your heart feels like it's echoing through the room.

Jude's eyes darken with desire as he traces the waistband of your white panties—the only clothing left on you—with his fingertips. His fingers move over the soft fabric, stopping when they feel the dampness that has gathered between your thighs.

"You're so wet for me," he says possessively, making you moan.

He hooks his thumbs under the fabric and begins to slide them down your thighs. His gaze never leaves yours as the material glides over your skin. A soft, needy whine escapes your lips—you had never been this turned on in your life.

Your underwear is pulled off you, leaving you completely exposed to his gaze. Jude's eyes fixate on the prize that lay before him, caressing your most intimate parts with a hunger that was almost tangible. The heat of his stare is enough to make you quiver. Your legs part involuntarily, a little wider to give him a better view.

His hands glide up your thighs, petting the sensitive skin. Sliding up the smooth skin of your legs before hovering above your exposed flesh. You bite your lip with nervous excitement.

A smirk plays at the corner of his lips, the kind that makes your heart race and your breath hitch. His touch is feather-light, a whisper of a promise, as his fingers dance closer to the place where you crave him the most. The anticipation is exquisite, a sweet torture that has your body arching towards him, begging for more.

"Do you want me to touch you here?" he teases, sending shivers down your spine.

His gaze searches yours for permission. The question hangs in the air. Your eyes lock on his, you nod, a silent plea for the contact you both knew you needed.

"Say it, baby," he demands. "Tell me how much you want me to touch you."

With a quiver in your voice, you whisper, "I want it more than anything, Jude."

The admission seemed to charge the air around you, sparking a fire in Jude's eyes that sent an intense wave of heat through your body.

His hand hovers for a moment longer. The anticipation, a sweet agony that made your skin ache for his touch. Then, with a gentle yet firm pressure, his thumb grazes the sensitive spot of your clit, sending a jolt of pleasure through your core.

You gasp softly as his gaze holds yours. His hand moves with purpose, sliding on the wet aching center of your core slowly. Your eyes flutter as you moan desperately. Your body arching in response to his touch.

You close your eyes, letting the sensation wash over you. It felt so good, so forbidden, yet you couldn't bring yourself to ask him to stop. Instead, you roll your hips, pressing yourself closer to his touch, silently begging for more.

"Jude," you whisper, your voice barely audible above the sound of your heavy breathing. "More."

His movements become more deliberate. Each stroke of his finger against your sensitive spot sends waves of pleasure coursing through your body. You moan softly. With your mind beginning to blur, you focus only on the feel of his touch, the warmth of his body against yours.

Jude lowers his head, capturing your lips once more in a possessive kiss. His free hand rests beside your head. Your hand grips his strong bicep for support. The pleasure is intense, pushing you closer to the edge with each passing moment.

His fingers, now slick with your arousal, move with renewed vigor against your clit. Each stroke is a symphony of pleasure, building upon the last, until your body tightens like a coil about to spring. Suddenly, the crescendo of sensation crashes over you. Your orgasm rolls through your body like a tidal wave.

Your back arches off the bed. Your grip on his arm tightens as the spasms of pleasure overtake you. Your eyes squeeze shut as the pulsations grow stronger. Your breaths come out in ragged gasps as your hips rock against his fingers.

A long shudder runs through you as you ride out the waves of pleasure, moaning his name into his mouth. You cling to him, your face buried in the crook of his neck as you try to catch your breath.

When you finally look up, his eyes are fixed on you, a mixture of awe and satisfaction reflected in their depths. You pant softly, still recovering from the intensity of the experience.

As the orgasm subsides, Jude's voice breaks through the haze of pleasure. "You're so beautiful when you cum." His words are a gentle caress, soothing your overstimulated senses.

And just when you think you can't possibly take any more, he starts to kiss you, his lips soft and tender as he tastes the salt of your skin. You kiss back, still too overwhelmed to speak. Wrapping your arms around his shoulders, you pull his body closer to yours. His hips press into you as he lays on top of you. You feel his hardness against your thigh, a stark reminder of his own needs.

With the intensity of the moment still palpable in the air, you decide to take things to the next level. You roll the two of you over until Jude's back is on the bed. You sit up and straddle his thighs. With your eyes locked onto his, you grind your ass over the hard length in his sweatpants.

Jude's eyes become half-lidded as he takes in the sight of you. He lets out a low groan, his hands instinctively gripping your waist as you begin to move in a slow rhythm. His breath grows ragged, matching the tempo of your hips.

"You're so fucking good at that," he groans, his hands tightening around you. His eyes burn with a possessive hunger as he watches the sway of your body.

Your heart races as you realize the power you hold in this moment, the power to give him pleasure, to make him groan your name. Leaning forward, you kiss him again, this time with a newfound confidence.

Your breasts press against Jude's clothed chest. His hunger for you is palpable, and it fuels your actions. Your hand reaches down, gripping him through his sweatpants, squeezing gently, as he curses into your mouth. With the heat of his arousal between your fingers, you feel his pulse in your hand through his gray sweatpants. He feels huge even without seeing his erection.

Jude's eyes bore into yours with a fiery intensity that sent a shiver down your spine. With an eager hunger, you slide down Jude's body, your kisses trailing from his mouth to his chest to his happy trail. You lower yourself until your face is eye level with his hips. For a moment, you're not quite sure if you have the confidence to continue.

"Take it out, baby," he commands, sensing your trepidation.

The heat in the room seems to spike as you feel the weight of his words. Suspense is heavy in the air. Your heart races as you obey his instruction. A lustful eagerness building inside you with every passing second.

His eyes, full of demand, pierce into yours as you slowly pull down the waistband of his sweatpants and briefs. His erection springs free, thick and tall. The sight of it makes you ache with want. Jude's eyes never leave yours as you take him in your hand.

"Suck," he says, his voice low, leaving no room for hesitation.

Jude's dominant demeanor washes over you like a wave of heat. You feel a mix of arousal and submission as you follow his command. His hand lands gently on the back of your head, guiding you closer to his length.

You lean down, your lips brushing against the hot skin of his shaft. He curses as your mouth meets his erection. His grip in your hair tightens as you begin to kiss his tip softly, sending pin-pricks of pleasure and pain across your scalp.

His manhood grazes your lips and you part them eagerly, allowing him to slide in. His groans fill the room as you savor the taste of his arousal. Jude fills you completely, stretching your lips. He moans lowly, a sound that sends a thrill down your spine and tells you that you're doing exactly what he wants.

With a gentle suck, you begin to take him deeper, feeling the softness of his skin give way to the firmness beneath. It's wet, messy and also incredibly intimate. You can feel his heartbeat through his shaft, thumping in rhythm with your own. The wetness spreads, coating your lips and fingers, making everything slick.

He groans, his hand on the back of your head guiding you to take him deeper. You obey, working against your gag reflex. Your eyes water as you try to accommodate his huge length. It slides to the back of your throat and makes you gag before he pulls your head up. Your inexperience shows, but the passion in your eyes tells him you're eager to learn, eager to make him feel good.

You moan around him, the vibration sending waves of pleasure through his body. He tastes salty and slightly bitter, a taste that only fuels your desire to serve him. He whispers your name, a rough command that sends a shiver through your body. You respond by sucking harder.

His grip on your hair becomes more forceful. His groans grow louder, his breaths quicker, and you can feel his thighs tensing around your face.

You look up at him through teary eyes, watching the pleasure marked across his chiseled face. His hand guides your movements, setting a rhythm that you struggle to match. You're determined to make him feel good, even as your jaw starts to ache and your gag reflex flutters. Each time he hits the back of your throat, you fight the urge to pull away, focusing instead on the way his fingers tense in your hair.

"That's it," Jude murmurs, his voice thick with lust. "You're doing so good." The way he says it sends a shiver down your spine, making you feel both vulnerable and powerful.

You can feel the tension coiling in his body as he nears climax. The thought of making him come sends a thrill through your own body. You want to do this for him. To show him that you're willing to explore these new, intimate territories together. You keep going, your eyes watering, your cheeks hollowed out, trying to ignore the way your throat burns.

His breathing grows ragged, his hips buck upward, and you know you're getting closer to what he wants.

You look up at him, eyes wide and questioning, seeking reassurance. He meets your gaze, a smoldering heat in his own eyes.

"Keep going," he commands, his grip in your hair tightening slightly.

You take him all the way in, your nose pressing against his pelvis. His breathing becomes ragged, his abs clenching with each deep thrust. The room is filled with the wet sounds of your mouth working his shaft as he hits the back of your throat.

And then, just when you think you can't handle anymore, he comes. You're unprepared for the hot rush of his release. But you keep going, eager to swallow every drop, to show him that you're willing to be everything he desires. It doesn't matter that the taste is foreign, a little salty, and a little bitter.

You watch him, your own heart still racing. Jude's eyes are closed, his chest heaving with deep, ragged breaths. He opens them to meet your gaze, and the love and adoration in his expression sends a warm rush through your body.

"I love you," he whispers, his voice hoarse from passion.

Your heart skips a beat, and you can't help but smile as he pulls you up to him to kiss you, tasting himself on your lips. The kiss is tender and lingering, filled with the promise of more moments like this to come.

You gently pull away from the kiss, your eyes lingering on him with a tender smile. "I love you, too," you whisper, your voice soft and filled with affection.

He pulls you into a warm embrace, your bodies tangled together on the bed. You feel his heartbeat slow to a steady rhythm against your chest, and you can't help but feel a sense of accomplishment.

This was your first time performing oral sex, and from the sounds of it, you did pretty well. You snuggle closer to him, enjoying the feeling of his skin against yours, and let out a contented sigh as his arms tighten around you.

The room is filled with the scent of sex and love, and you realize that this is what you've been craving all along—this intimate connection that goes beyond words.

His hand rests on your back, stroking gently as you both drift into a peaceful silence. It's a moment of pure contentment, a moment that feels like it could last forever. 

As you lay there, basking in the afterglow, you can't help but think about how far you've come in your relationship. From shy glances and stolen kisses to this raw passion, you know that you've found something special with Jude. And still, there are many more experiences waiting for the two of you to explore.

[tldix]

Do i wanna know?

summary: fleeing to college after catching your highschool sweetheart cheating, you find yourself right back in your home town 4 years later. your degree almost complete & your sanity slowly slipping, you find solace in the one place you know you shouldn’t. your dads best friend. Dean Winchester.

word count: idk something embarrassingly long probably🫣

warnings : mature 18+, dbf, AU, yearning AF, spn content, grumpy/sunshine ish?? idk (im trying to include most of the main characters from spn, again AU)

a/n: this is my 2nd ever fic so pls be nice 😔 (& lmk your thoughts, any ideas you may want added) i have every intention of making this a series, if you wanna be added to my tag list just comment 🫶🏼 with alllll this being said i hope you enjoy 🥲

The airport was alive with chaos—families reuniting, announcements echoing overhead, and the constant shuffle of luggage wheels against tiled floors. you adjusted the strap of your duffel bag & guitar case as you took a steadying breath as you followed the crowd toward baggage claim.

It had been months since you last came home, and even longer since you had really felt at home. College had consumed you, with its never-ending stream of exams, late-night study sessions, and endless cups of cheap coffee. Now, with your degree in psychology just a semester away, the weight of expectations pressed heavier on your shoulders.

you tugged her phone from your pocket and skimmed the last text from your dad.

| see you soon kid. we can stop at Bobby’s diner on the way home. i know he’d be over the moon to see you, bet you’re sick of all that tofu & books. don’t forget your still my daughter- not some Freud-loving brainiac”

you stifle a giggle as you head towards the parking lot, eyes skimming for the old green dodge your dad refuses to part with. you let your thoughts drift back to a time before you left for college. when you were waitressing at Bobby’s diner, when you were still with that jackass Colter. when the world felt as if it was falling apart. you quickly shake the thoughts from your head, moving your feet along the pavement out the double doors. your eyes fall on your dads truck, he jumps out with a 9 mile smile as he runs towards you.

“dad! oh my gosh i’ve missed you”

your dad picks you up, wrapping you in one of his signature bear hugs. you melted into his embrace, breathing in the scent of motor oil and aftershave.

“sticks, Look who’s back from the land of overpriced coffee and vegan muffins!”

“Dad, not everyone in college eats vegan muffins.” you laughed.

as your dad grabs your bags, he bombards you with questions. “how was school?” “didn’t meet another jackass like that one boy did you?” “i’m so glad you’re home now sticks, i was real tired of eating take out”

finally. this is what you were searching for. the peace feeling only your dad can seem to give you. the home feeling. you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling the warm smile trying to seep through the wedges in your teeth. you glance out the window, seeing all the familiar streets & shops. the Macleod bakery, Harvelles road house, the dentist your dad would fight tooth & nail to get you into. how was Garth now? you found yourself wondering. it’s been a long time since you were home, you couldn’t be happier. for the first time in years you felt as if you had absolutely no worries. none at all, well until your dad said

“i planned you a welcome home party, more like a bbq but dean was more than happy to let us use his grill. it’s saturday if that works for you sweetheart?”

Dean Winchester had been a part of your life for as long as you could remember, like an unofficial uncle who never missed a BBQ or a birthday. He and your dad, J.P., had been best friends since their teens, inseparable through thick and thin. Dean was brash, charming, and had a knack for pushing your buttons in the way only he could. you hadn’t seen him since Christmas, but the memory of his teasing smirk lingered in your mind.

“sweetheart? is that okay?”

you fumble over your words, trying to push them out & making them seem as nonchalant as possible.

“yeah uh that’s fine dad. can’t wait”

you glance up to see your dad pulling into his usual parking spot outside Bobby’s diner. Bobby was a good man, your dad’s parents weren’t around when you were born so Bobby was quick to claim you as his own granddaughter. blood or not, youre family. as you open the creaky door of your dads old truck, you find every peace of worry gone again. you practically skip to the door, tearing it open as you glance around. ‘that old man really doesn’t change shit’ you thought to yourself.

“sticks? is that really you?”

you thought you were fine, you really convinced yourself until you heard that deep baritone voice. now you felt the ache of tears pressing against your eyes. you whip your head around, eyes meeting the one & only Bobby Singer. the whole diners stopped eating & talking. honing in on the grumpy old man facade slipping from Bobby’s face. you find yourself jogging over to him, he drops the tray to the floor as he quickly envelopes you into a hug.

“Pops! it’s so good to see you”

your voice is muffled from the hold Bobby has on you, his own tears falling down his face into his flannel to mix with yours. you glance up meeting his eyes as he says

“damnit girl, i can’t believe you’re here. how was school? you back for good?”

you pull yourself away hesitantly

“i’m back for good pops. finishing out my last semester here, was hoping you still had that waitressing position open”

your eyebrows shoot up hopefully as a small smirk falls on your face, Bobby wraps his arm around your shoulder as he chuckles

“for you? of course.”

Bobby’s eyes finally meet your fathers, he pulls Jp into a tight hug

“hell boy why didn’t you tell me she was coming home. i’d have-“

jp chuckles as he cuts bobby off

“listen old man, you got enough going on. plus i figured a surprise would do you some good. especially a sticks shaped surprise”

hours passed as you sat & caught up with Bobby, his eyes never leaving yours. almost like he couldn’t believe you were really here. you talked about school, the waitressing job you had in California (but making sure to let Bobby know no place could compare to his). as you ate a smile never left your face, Jp & Bobby telling you stories about the 4 years you were gone. youre laughing, you’re crying. you didn’t know you could feel so many emotions just by coming home. you’re about to leave when Bobby pulls you aside. hugging you as he tells you

“sticks now listen. i know you don’t wanna hear what i’m bout to say but i also know if you hear it from anyone else you’ll lose it. Col-“

you pull away, locking eyes with Bobby

“pops please don’t-“

“wait just a second lemme finish. Colters getting married. got a baby on the way”

you felt the ground beneath your crumble. no, no, no. that couldn’t be happening. your highschool sweetheart. your first kiss, your first- well everything. sure he was mean, a tiny bit abusive but he was yours. or so you thought.

“what do you mean pops? he- he can’t be. there’s no way”

you stumble back but before you fall, bobby’s arms are around you.

“i know kiddo. i know. but hey, maybe it’s better this way huh?”

his hands are wiping the tears you didn’t realize were falling. you had so many questions, did he really love me? how could he move on? why did he never reach out? well maybe it’s because he was too busy out getting some skank pregnant. wait no you can’t think like that, she didn’t do anything to you. it wasn’t like this mystery woman was holding your heart in your hands, no that was that stupid prick Colter.

“who?”

“who what sticks?”

bobby’s eyes look too worrisome. you hate when he gives you those eyes.

“who is he marrying”

bobby sighs, suddenly finding the sticky old floorboards far more interesting than the expression that’s gunna cross your face.

“jo.”

oh that hurt, jo. jo harvelle. your childhood bestfriend. bobby’s grip tightened on you, holding you steady as you go through the waves crashing through you. anger. hurt. betrayal. your dad approaches, seeing the light leave your eyes. he glances at Bobby, sharing a knowing look with him. he wraps his arm around, letting you bid your farewells as he lead you to the truck. as he opened the door for you, you slung yourself into the seat.

“sticks i- i’m sorry”

you wipe the rest of the tears from your face, nodding as you glance around the truck. your eyes get stuck on the polaroid of you & jo. a picture you used to cherish so deeply, but now you’d rather see it cast into the pits of hell. your dad catches what you’re eyes are lingering on as he closes your door. he makes his way around to his side, quickly grabbing the polaroid & stashing it away. he knew when you got told the news things would be different, your pain would be different. Colter was one thing, your highschool sweetheart who never lived up to the ‘sweetheart’ part. the man who made you shed more tears than you ever should’ve, the man who left you alone wondering where he was most nights when he was shacking it up at Harvelles bar, who wouldn’t answer his phone. your dad knew all this, he was the one you called when you couldn’t take it anymore. he was the one who came & picked you up from Colters parents house the night you ended things. the night you found out he cheated. 2 weeks before you left for college. your dad also knew that after you left, there wasn’t a thing he could say or do to make you come back. Jo on the other hand, she was your best friend. practically your sister. there wasn’t a weekend where Jo wasn’t at his house, in his pool, watching you & him work on cars & when you got older the one who helped you sneak those cars out. the one you called when Colter wasn’t treating you right. the one who called you when she knew Colter was at her moms bar. it felt unreal to your father, he couldn’t imagine how you felt.

The hum of tires on asphalt filled the silence as you pulled into the driveway of your childhood home. The house looked the same—warm porch lights glowing, the familiar sight of your first car parked sideways on the side of the house. the garage open, showing the new muscle car your dad must be going nuts over. Jp killed the engine and exhaled deeply. After four years away at college, home felt both comforting and alien.

Inside, you found seemingly nothing changed. the recliner was still the same, the stacks of car manuals everywhere, the coffee cup sized rim indentions on your dads side table, the only different thing was a picture you & your dad took on the 4th of july hanging above the tv stand. you’re standing in a pair of old jean shorts, your red bikini top sneaking out the side of your old worn white t-shirt covered in motor oil. your dad has his signature blue dodgers cap on, his mechanic uniform still clinging to him. laughing right back with you as he holds his belly. Sam took the picture & you were so thankful he did. you carried yourself up to your childhood bedroom, the only thing that changed was the size of the bed. instead of the measly little twin you now were the proud owner of a queen. the sage green comforter looked like a cloud, a dream even.

you dig out a change of clothes, your toiletries & make your way to your bathroom. the peace sign poster you picked out with Jo staring menacingly at you through the reflection. you hesitate for a second before deciding to rip it down. you crumble it up, throwing it in the trash can as you run a hand through your hair. stupid. that’s how you felt. why did you think you’d come back & everything would be waiting for you like the day you left? your eyes longed for tears to fall, you glance up catching yourself in the reflection before you shake your shoulders & sigh. you rip the airport clothes off, turning on a hot shower as you slip in. you hum the tune of an AC/DC song as you lather the soap in your hands & through your hair. you’re back, regardless of how anyone else feels. your got your job back at Bobby’s, you’re finishing your degree this year. everything’s gunna work out. everything’s gunna be fine, but if that was the truth why did you feel as if something was missing?

you get out of the shower, quickly drying off as you throw on a old tank top & a pair of sweats. you towel dry your hair, glancing over to the fogged up mirror as you pull a brush through it. you throw your dirty clothes in your laundry basket as you slide on your slippers. you make your way back to your room, settling down on the bed as you open up your bag.

your dads footsteps tear you from your thoughts, you glance up as he’s carrying a beer. you take it thankfully as he settles beside you on the bed, glancing over at your guitar case.

“you still play sticks?”

you nod, as you take a swig of your beer

“i do. ain’t played as much as id like too with how busy things have been though”

your dad takes a swig of his own beer, he smiles as he says

“well after dinner i want you to play me something”

you smile & nod, you loved playing for your dad. he’s who taught you really, who gave you the guitar you lug around everywhere. you run your fingers absentmindedly across the label of the beer as you think back to the time he gave you the guitar. it was your 11th birthday, the smile he beamed down at you was something you’d never allow yourself to forget. that, that was probably your happiest memory. your dads voice interrupts your thoughts as he says

“well i’ll be out in the garage. we’ll have some company for dinner since i gotta work from home today. you need me you come find me okay sugar?”

you smile to yourself, boy was it great to have someone care so much for you. you were used to just being ignored, not making but 1 singular friend in your years of college. Ashley. she was like a girl you’d never met before, ambitious, smart, beautiful, funny. the sarcasm that girl carried was something unreal. your dad already loved her after meeting her the one singular time he flew out to visit. you plop down on your bed, pulling your phone out as you quickly press ashley’s number. she picks up after the 3rd sing yelling through the phone

“sticks! come back oh god i’ll never make it without you”

sticks? since when did ashley also call you that? what is with everyone wanting this nickname to stick? you roll your eyes at your unintentional pun

“well hello there ash i miss you too” you giggle into the phone

“but no seriously how is it? feel better being at home?”

you bite back the endless trials of emotions you went through today, choosing not to unload the disaster your life’s become in a measly 24 hours. you find yourself picking at the thread of your sweats as you offer small talk, informing her you got your job back at the diner until you graduate. her swearing she’s flying out the second the gets the chance. you giggle & talk as you glance at the clock, you realized you completely lost track of time & you were sure dinner was ready. you hang up, promising you’ll call her after your first day as you make your way downstairs, the scent of ordered in pizza catches your nose as you giggle to yourself. as your feet touch the bottom step your dad turns to you

“well there she is, cmon sticks say hello”

you walk around the doorframe as your heart catches in your throat. Dean. Winchester.

“hey Freud” he greeted, his voice low drawl “long time no see”

“Freud, really?” you arched any eyebrow, meeting his gaze. his green eyes sparkled with mischief, & that smirk — God that smirk — was firmly in place.

“Freud, Jung, whoever you kids are into these days” dean shot back, standing from his place on the couch.

your dad chuckles

“don’t mind him, he’s just mad he’s too old to understand what you’re studying”

you laugh as you shake your head

dean cuts in as he says

“oh i understand it just fine” he said as he walks up to you “it’s all about mommy issues, right?”

you snorted

“i’m studying psychology, not you dean”

your dad burst out laughing, deans smirk faltering for a moment. he gave you an exaggerated bow as he says “Touchè”

as your dad drags dean over to the table you let yourself study his features, he looked the same — rough around the edges but effortlessly put together. his hands calloused & stained in motor oil. the veins prominent as he grabs the pizza box, smiling at something your father said. you quickly averted your gaze, feeling an unwelcomed heat creep up your neck.

“so sticks you nervous bout being back?”

your dad asks

you hesitated unsure of how to answer especially after the whirlwind of emotions you had to overcome today.

“a little. it’s been awhile, you know? i’m used to being busy all the time. having my job back at Pops surely will help though”

“well you’re home now.” your dad said, his voice warm. “relax, eat something other than cafeteria food & maybe give some of your old man here some of that brainiac advice” he beams

“careful” dean adds smirking, “you might open a can of worms with that one if you ain’t careful ‘old man’ “

you rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smirk that fell on your face. it felt good to be back, banter, baggage & all.

—————————————

by the time you made it to the table you were trying to decide if you could just crawl up to your room or out the window, on the latter they would definitely know something was up. i mean your dad knew, he seen it first hand all day. but dean? no. he could not & would not see you crumble over something like that. it was hard enough to try to keep the actual relationship issues from dean when it happened, he definitely didn’t need the after effects.

you decided what’s the worst that could happen, you’re in your own home. with your father, & really you were just nervous. you did not expect to see dean today, not any day before saturday really. that’s why you find yourself turning to your dad & joking

“i’m surprised the houses still stands after how long i was gone”

“barely sticks” jp jokes as he grumbles “dean here only fixed the roof last week, don’t lean on the railing. it’s a death trap”

“hey that’s quality work” dean protests before taking a bite of his pizza

“quality work” you echoed, eyeing him. “remind me not to hire you when i get my own place.”

dean grins, leaning back in his chair as he wipes the pizza sauce from his lip

“don’t worry. i charge extra for smartasses”

your dad throws him a joking glare as he gets up to fetch some beers, leaving you both alone for the first moment since youve been home. you shift in your seat as you take a bite of your pizza.

“it’s good to see you sticks” dean said, his tone softer now as he catches your eye

you look up, startled by the sincerity in his voice. a small smile fights it way to your lips as you say “you too dean”

for a fleeting moment, you felt as if something electric, & impossible to ignore flashed between you. as quick as the moment appeared it dissolved when your dad breached the door with a huge grin

“beers here”

————————-

[dr3amfyr-e]

crybaby - j.v. ( w. 5k )

꒰ in which the boy you see every summer enrolls in the same university as you. again. ꒱ — modern!jacaerys velayron x reader

୨ ⎯ childhood-friends-to-lovers. someone said idiots in love, and yes! modern au. everyone lives au. liberal usage of the em-dash. foul language. pushing the rhaenicent agenda. an incredible amount of yearning and pining. mention of reader's hair. mentions of anxiety. reader has a breakdown in semi-public. subplot where reader is sick. reader is so down bad its crazy. targ-tower cameo! aemond bitter af and for no reason. wrote a bit of dialogue that is so foul but i only realized it after i typed it and its not being taken out. luke is so little brother coded. i directly quote a serial romance novel thats so cringe. part one here. ⎯ ୧

can be read stand-alone, but theres a lot of context in part one !! thank u all for being patient :3

“It's called Applications of Ancient Politics in Modern Literature.”

Looking up from your twelve-page study guide, you meet Jace’s bright gaze where he sits at the foot of your bed, “That sounds… complicated.”

He shrugs, long fingers brushing up through his thick curls, “I need to take it, it's cross-listed for literature and political science so I’ll get credit for both. I think it’ll be interesting, plus if you take it too…” He leans a little closer, grinning in your face. 

“Send it to me,” You reply, highlighting a section in the packet about climate change and its impact on migratory birds in pretty pink ink.

You promise to look it up, to get back to him later, but it's hollow and you know it. He's already given you that pretty smile, flashed his dimples and stared down at you with his dark eyes — your grave has been dug. You will take  Applications of Ancient Politics in Modern Literature and read pages of boring political theory because Jace asked and Jace has you wrapped around his finger.

He shifts on the mattress, lying down on his front and scooting decidedly closer to you. His laptop is open in front of him, eyes trained on the screen through his glasses, perusing the course catalogue for the spring semester. 

“Isn’t it a bit late to pick classes?” You ask, stretching your legs out in front of you, “It's December, next semester is in, like, four weeks.” 

Jace is a perfectionist, a pre-planning freak who has three calendars: a planner that he carries everywhere, a big desk calendar at his apartment for easy access while studying, and his digital calendar. Its colour coded — he has a browser extension that allows him to make events on his Google Calendar any colour. So, it's very unlike Jace, who does his schoolwork the night it's assigned, to pick classes two months after registration opened. 

“I just like to look,” He replies, “This class is Wednesday and Friday, from ten to eleven o’clock. Does that work for you?” 

You nod, because it will work. You’ll rearrange your schedule if need be. It's pathetic, really, how easily he gets you to do things.

It's quiet for a while, Jace scrolling on his computer while you fill in your study packet. 

“When is your last final?” He asks. 

“Next Friday.”

“So you’re leaving Friday?”

“No, my train ticket is for Saturday.”

“Damn, I’m leaving Tuesday,” A lull, “When do you come back.”

“The Sunday before classes start. You?”

“That Friday.”

The conversation continues like that, mindless and short but so very comfortable. It's often like that anymore, with little eye contact and no real attention paid to each other besides the brief words — and, not in the way that feels awkward or tense, but in the way that old married couples chat over morning coffee and the paper. Maybe it's the lifetime of friendship that does it, or that you spend more nights in his apartment than your dorm.

You see each other twice more before the holiday. 

The Monday that exams start you meet at the coffee shop that became yours in the first two weeks of school. The middle table by the bay window is where you always sit, and the barista has Jace’s order memorised — because he gets the same drink every time you come, a caramel macchiato. 

He groans into his hands, ignoring both his coffee and his half of the cheese danish that you’d split, “I feel like I did poorly.”

He’d suffered through days upon days of studying for the political science exam that had plagued him all semester, to be taken today at noon. It was a three-hour exam, mostly multiple choice with two essay questions. You’d been with him through the worst of the studying: in total, forty-seven pages of research papers and scholarly articles printed at the library, and six books varying from fifty to five-hundred pages. He had filled up a plethora of pages in his notebook, and at least three in a word document. There was no study guide, just a list of broad topics. He was facing the consequences of taking a 300-level class in his first semester. 

“Jace, darling,” You reply, reaching out to press a reassuring hand to his arm, “You studied for that test more than I think anyone in the history of this school has studied for anything ever. If you didn’t do well, that's a reflection of the professor, not you.”

He doesn’t seem to want much to do with that rationale, sliding his hands down to rest his chin in them. He's pouting, glasses sliding down his nose as he looks at you through his lashes, “What if I failed?”

“Then… I don’t know,” You reach up to pull one of his hands down to the table, twining your fingers, “Then you failed, and that sucks. But you’re sporting a solid one-hundred in the class now, you could get a fifty on that exam and still end with…” Quick mental math. If the exam is weighted at twenty percent, then, “- a ninety percent.”

“An A-minus,” He whines. 

“Jace,” You chastise sweetly. 

He huffs, his pouty stare turning into a glare with no heat behind it. He wants to whine and mope about exams. What harm does it truly do?

You push his half of the danish towards him, “It's over now. You studied hard, you did your best. There's nothing you can do right now to change your grade. You can’t control it, so there is no point in trying to.”

Jace likes control, he likes to be in control. A psychological idiosyncrasy plaguing many eldest children and children of divorce. The quintessential therapist's advice about what you can control and what you can’t control had been revolutionary for him during one of his bi-weekly appointments — the whole family had them, Rhaenyra and Alicent were big proponents. 

Regurgitating that to him, no matter how much it makes you feel like you’re giving unsolicited advice, always works wonders to ground him when he's disproportionately anxious over something out of his control.

He deposits you at your dorm with a kiss on the cheek that evening.

On the Friday you leave school, Jace drives you to the train station. He packs your bags into the backseat of his hoity-toity hybrid Porsche Panamera and lets you play with his radio all the way there.

You’re an hour early to the station — Jace is early everywhere. He sets his paper copy of I Know Why the Caged Bird Sings on his lap in the little lobby, slipping his finger into the book where it is dogeared. Yet, he makes no effort to read, his attention solely on you. 

“A month is ages to be apart,” He says, voice soft and thoughtful.

You scoot a little closer, elbows knocking, “It won’t be so bad. We can talk.”

His watch glimmers in the overhead light of the train station when one of his hands settles safely on your knee. Small white face, silver hands and framing, thin black band — it's Gucci, something his mother wore in the nineties. His fingers trace the edge of your skirt, and in the silence begin to smooth down your kneecap to your shin. 

“You must be cold,” He murmurs, thumbing the material of your nylons. 

“I’m alright.”

Your train is called before he can shed his coat and drape it over your lap, as he so desperately wishes to do. 

He hugs you, tightly, before you board. He's so warm, his black jumper is soft against your cheek, and you can smell his cologne where your nose lands in the crook of his neck — patchouli and something earthy and fresh, Brutus Oroto Parisi. 

“God, I’ll miss you.”

One morning, a week into the holiday, a letter shows up. It’s written in the black pen he’s so fond of, and you admire his neat penmanship as you read the detailed account of his holiday celebration. You smell the expensive cologne he wears and recognize Helaena’s handmade stationery. He gives you a sheepish smile over a FaceTime call when you bring it up. 

When you see him on campus again in January, not much has changed. You're both in your respective majors, he lives in the nicest building on campus, and he hates your roommate. She’s taken to referring to him as your boyfriend; you correct her the first two times and then give up. 

Classes are harder with the emotional slump attached to winter. You talk to Jace often, but don’t see much of each other outside of class. And then you get sick. 

Banging. Loud banging. It wakes you up from your fever-and-Doxylamine induced sleep. Per college dorms, your first assumption is that it's your loud-ass fucking neighbor! Again! Having bunk-bed-breaking sex like she does every Thursday night with her ugly ass boyfriend who radiates such a strong odor of weed and computer science that you can get a noseful of him a meter down the hall. Doxylamine tends to make people agitated.

Before you can weakly pound on the cinderblock wall, there's a muffled call of your name. It comes from the hallway, and it's followed by another bang — which you begin to realize is knocking. 

Crawling out of bed, you blearily pad to the door. You don’t have to peer through the peephole to see who it is. The voice is soft, low, and endearingly posh. Clearly, it’s- 

“Jace?” You grumble when you open the door, mind foggy from the cold medicine.

It's early January in London, and the beige cashmere jumper he wears isn’t warm enough — it's a woman’s cut, but it fits him like Loro Piana himself measured the fabric to Jace’s body. The cold weather is visible in the flush of his face, the snowflakes that linger in his hair.

“I’ve been calling you for hours, darling,” He speaks gently, voice heavy with concern. 

You blink at him, not responding with anything more than a little, oh.

His hand finds your upper arm, leaning closer to hone your attention, “You look awful,” He guides the both of you back into your dorm room, “Are you unwell?” 

You nod, “My roommate brought it back from holiday break.”

Jace huffs sharply, mumbling something to himself, no doubt about your roommate. He walks you back towards your bed, gently pushing you to sit.

“Have you been to the clinic?” He asks, one hand coming to cup your cheek.

“Twice.”

His hand slides up, finers gracing your temple to push some stray hair behind your ear, and then landing upon your brow bone, “You’re burning up.”

It's quiet for a few moments, hands retracing back down to cradle your face as he inspects you. He's focused, calculating and planning in his head — it's an energy you’ve seen him embody countless times, assessing the scraped knees, bruised foreheads, and aching tummies of his younger siblings. 

“What time is it?” You ask, after watching him bustle about your room for about thirty minutes. He's such a mother hen: making tea, procuring medication you didn’t know you had, wetting flannels, adjusting your blankets.

“Ten,” He replies, settling into your twin-size bed next to you and pressing a mug of piping hot tea into your waiting hands, “It's peppermint. I wish you kept chamomile, or really anything herbal.”

You disregard his latter comment, resting your head on his shoulder. Soft. As an eighteen-hundred pound jumper should be, “You came here in the dead of night? In the snow?”

He slides his legs under the blankets, sinking down into your pile of pillows and stuffed animals and pulling you closer, “I took the bus part of the way. Plus-” His hand drags across your shoulders, “I needed to see you. You missed class today, and I haven’t heard from you since Monday. I had nearly driven myself to the brink of madness with worry.”

You groan, turning your head to bump your forehead into the jut of his shoulder, “I hadn’t thought about class,” Bump, bump, bump goes your head, “Did I miss anything important?”

He hums, looking down at you, “We had to turn in a paragraph detailing our preliminary ideas for that big Arthashastra comparison essay. Doctor Dunlavey loved your connections to the political system in The Silmarillion.”

What? You lift your head to look up at him, “I didn’t do the assignment.” You had been too sick to think about school-work.

“Well,” He shrugs, lightly enough that it doesn’t disturb you, “Who's to say? He doesn’t have your handwriting memorized, he has hundreds of students.”

You’re quiet for a long moment, “Thank you, Jace.”

He sleeps in your bed that night, insisting that you’re sick enough that someone needs to keep an eye on you. Dressed in a loose pair of your pajamas, he curls around you in the tiny bed. His body spills warmth through both of your sleepwear, and maybe it's the fever or the cold cinderblock of your dorm but there is no physical proximity that quantifies as close enough to him. 

He's gone by the time you wake up, late into the morning. Naught of him but a text.

i had to go to class and i didn’t want to wake you up, sorry

be back later x 

And true to his word, he arrives that evening with a travel mug of lavender chamomile tea and the cough medicine he makes Luke take when he’s sick. It’s so bad that you nearly choke at the taste, but he leaves the bottle and you’re better by the end of the week. 

You’re both more diligent in seeing each other going forwards.

Your phone rings one day in mid-February — a silly picture of Jace in a bright red hat, one of Helaena’s, pops up on your screen, followed by the affectionate nickname he’s saved as in your phone. 

You even get a chance to say hello, his voice immediately bursting through the speaker, “Do you have plans for the third weekend of February?” 

You think through your mental calendar, “I don’t believe so, nothing that takes priority over you at least. Why do you ask?”

You can hear him fiddling with something on the other line, the clicking of a pen echoing from his bedroom to your ear. Every year his family hosts a gala, raising an ungodly amount of money for their charitable cause by selling high-priced tickets. And everyone comes, because the Targaryens are the royalty of the one percent. 

“Come?” He asks, “Please, I think you’ll enjoy it. Plus, it’ll be like a little holiday for us.”

And again — you’re wrapped so tightly around Jace’s finger that you don’t even think before saying yes. You don’t think through many things regarding this, which lands you in a guest bedroom in Rhaenyra and Alicent’s massive London estate.

In truth, it's not a guest bedroom, but rather Daeron’s old room. It is decorated with posters of classical musicians and string instrument charts; vinyls line his bookshelf, alphabetized and all orchestral. Daeron stays with Alicent’s brother in Paris during the academic year, attending a private secondary school with a music-based curriculum. He had been practically a prodigy at the violin. 

The room is sandwiched between Luke and Aemond, directly across the hall from Jace. There are a number of guest rooms in the house, but they’re all the next floor up and Jace had insisted that you stay across the hall from him. It does feel a bit odd to change into your pretty black dress while staring down a battalion of Daeron’s music awards and a very large framed photo of Otto Hightower. 

“I don’t mean to be judgemental, but who keeps a photo like this of their grandfather in their bedroom?” You ask, adjusting the straps of the dress, “I would understand if he was dead, but Otto is… not.”

Jace laughs from where he lounges on the bed, scrolling through something on his phone. After nearly two decades of friendship, there's little that hasn’t been seen and very lax boundaries. He had watched you change innumerable times before, but today his eyes are decidedly diverted onto his phone. 

“Good?” You ask, turning from the mirror, and giving him a spin. 

Jace stares, uncharacteristically quiet. His eyes are trained on you, scanning the dress, mouth closed and brows drawn so slightly you wouldn’t notice if you didn’t know him so well. He's a bit rigid where he’s propped up on the bed, clearly contemplating. 

After an unnerving amount of time, really only five seconds, he speaks, “You look nice.”

It's… odd. Measured and closed off, a complex thought that you don’t have the context from his internal monologue to understand. Did he not like it? Or was he stunned into silence by your sheer, Goddess-like beauty?

“We match,” You offer meekly, gesturing between your dress and his black suit jacket and slacks. A lame comparison. Nearly everyone at these events wore black.

But he smiles nonetheless, a genuine smile that shows off his pretty dimples, “We do.” 

Jacaerys drives to the event, and you’re squished in the too-small backseat of his car, between Lucerys and Aemond. Aegon is in the passenger seat, talking incessantly, and Jace wishes he would shut up so he can think about the silky material of your dress in peace. 

It's a precarious set-up, truly. Jace drives a four-door, but it isn’t meant for six adolescents in formal attire. Aemond is stiff as a rod next to you, pointedly staring out the window and only interacting to bite back at anything Aegon says. Occasionally his bony elbow will bump your side or his knee will knock into yours, and he’ll pull away as if you’re red hot, shooting you a glanced glare. 

The radio is its own battle. Upon entering the car it had connected automatically to Jace’s phone, playing a few seconds of the theory podcast he had been listening to and earning a collective groan. Luke was quick to sync his phone instead, the Ramones brash drums blaring from the speakers. Aegon changed it to chav rap. It ensued like that for the whole car ride — punk rock to rap, volume up and down and up and down. 

The ballroom is glorious. All high domed ceilings and white crown moulding and gold leaf details. There’s a massive chandelier in the centre of the room that drips with perfect crystals. An astonishing world it was that Jacaerys grew up in. Overwhelming 

“Are you alright?” Jace murmurs, hooking his arm into yours as your shoes click against the marble floor. He can sense your unease, feel it in the way your forearm tenses at any particularly fast movement or loud aristocratic laugh. 

“Fine,” You assure, shooting him a smile.

Of course, Jace doesn’t buy it. Your pretty smile doesn’t reach your eyes, it's tighter than normal. He knows things like that — he’ll never admit it, but every one of your microexpressions are programmed into his brain. 

Arm-in-arm the pair of you reach a semi-circle near the bar. Rhaenyra, Corlys, Luke, and Helaena. The boring financial drivel meets your ears from several paces away, and it's mind-numbing up close. 

‘I don’t think you can quantify the inherent need for biodegradable fuel in those metrics.’ 

‘Well, I would argue that you can. In such a high output industry you have to calculate the necessity for every pence.’ 

You nod along, putting up a convincing facade of business intellect while Jace adds in expertly to the dull conversation. Helaena, to Rhaenyra’s left, is about as interested as you.

It's only when Otto breaks into the group, and the conversation shifts from the most cost effective biofuel to is shipping on a mass scale a pertinent trade in post-Brexit England that you’re pulled away. Though not by Jace, who has become more engrossed in the conversation than he is in you, but by Luke. 

“You seemed to be drowning,” He smiles up at you, offering his arm. 

You take it gladly, “Thank you for saving me.”

“Don’t worry, I was drowning too.”

Activity on the balcony is scant; one lady sits in a metal chair sipping a glass of champagne, an elderly man stands at the far end of the railing peering at the London cityscape down below. Luke leans his elbows against the rail, propping his head up in one hand. 

“How's college?” He asks, looking up at you.

You hum, leaning down to mimic his posture, “Oh, it's fine. It's a lot of work,” There's a lull in the conversation as the two of you bask in the lack of hustle and bustle, “Have you started thinking about college yet?”

He shrugs noncommittal, picking at the nails of his free hand. He's very quiet for a while, and you allow him that because every life decision feels massive and dire at fifteen. When he does speak, his voice is soft, “Grandfather said that he wanted me to inherit his business after my dad, but now mum is talking about me being her successor.”

“You’d be good at it.”

“Jace doesn’t want to inherit.”

“I know.”

“He wants to be a lawyer, like Alicent. And I don’t blame him, but that puts a lot of pressure on me. Because now it's like I have mum and grandpa expecting me to be great, and I stand in their conversations and I don’t understand half of what they’re saying-”

“Luke,” You softly interject in his rushed rant, running a careful hand down his arm, “No one expects you to be perfect. You’re still a child, you’ve not even taken your A-Levels yet.

He nods solemnly.

“I know that it feels like the weight of your family legacy rests on your shoulders, but if you also defer inheritance it will be just fine. You have, what — like, ten siblings?” He gives a little laugh at your reasoning, “Plus, Laena and Baela, and Rhaena who could take over after your father.”

Luke nods, “I suppose you’re right,” He elbows you gently in the ribs, “You’re pretty wise, you know?”

It's your turn to laugh, nudging him back, “So, what do you want to do after school?”

He traces mindless little stars into the railing, “I’d really like to study music. Some of my friends and I have been playing together, and we’re talking about starting a band.”

“That's really cool, Luke!” You beam.

He smiles sheepishly, “I mean, it's nothing grand yet. We haven’t decided a name, and we’re a bit at odds about a genre.”

“Well,” You smile, “When you lot play, let me know. I’ll be in the front row!”

The calm quiet is broken when the door to the balcony opens, “Luke, darling. Mummy needs you.”

You both turn to see Alicent peering out of the doorway, body still inside the ballroom. Her arm slips around your waist in an endearingly maternal way as the three of you make your way back towards Rhaenyra.

“How are you, lovely?” She asks, rubbing between your shoulder blades. Her pear and saffron perfume, Guidance Amouage, floods your olfactory senses.

“Well!” You reply, leaning into her warm touch, “This is all so wonderful. I’m very glad Jace invited me.”

She smiles back, “Me too.”

Being a guest of the host by extension, you’re required to stay for the duration. So, you watch people dissipate as your energy dwindles. By the end of the night, nearly eleven, your upright position relies heavily on the support of Jace’s arm around your waist as he chats with his grandmother, Rhaenys. Politics, environmentalism, blah blah, drivel, drivel. You might do more to participate if the five hours of nonstop interaction and three glasses of champagne weren’t pulling your body towards the ground, but you settle for little engaged nods. 

The car is less crowded on the way back — much to everyone's chagrin, Aegon called an Uber halfway through the gala. You’re allowed the front seat, and spend most of the ride dozing off to the tune of The Velvet Underground & Nico, 1967.

You sleep in Jace’s bed that night, despite your own quarters being directly across the hall.

When Jacaerys realises he’s in love with you, you’re crying in the library stairwell. 

“I’m fucked,” You sob into your hands, shoulders shaking with the force of your misery. 

You had been studying together, preparing for the rest of your midterms when a notification came through your school email with an updated exam grade. 

Sheer terror, cold unyielding panic that starts just below your throat and twists its way down your spine and back into your lower intestine. The grade was a forty-two, which brought your total grade down to a fifty-eight. 

In the least melodramatic way possible you’d shut your laptop and told Jace you were going to the bathroom. But the bathroom was at the back of the room, and you had gone to the hallway — plus, he just knew better.

Gentle footsteps, you see his Sambas first and hear the crack of his knees as he sits next to you on the stair step. 

“You’re not fucked,” He murmurs back, his voice low and soft. One arm comes around your stooped shoulders, the soft fabric of his cardigan brushing the back of your neck, “It's only midterms, angel. This is nothing that you can’t reverse.”

The first thought in your head is easy for perpetual straight-A student Jacaerys to say, the next thought is much more self-pitying. You don't voice either, head falling to your knees.

You aren’t allowed to stay like that for long, firm hands come to your arms and pull you up. From there, they run slowly up and down — from your scapula to your bicep, over and over. And his chest blooms with warmth when you respond well, calming down. He runs his thumb over the soft skin underneath your eyes — first the left eye, and then the right — brushing away tears. 

Jace’s typical form of comfort plays on his lifelong role as eldest sibling; it's usually coddling, while he mothers you and tries to problem solve. This is not that. It's something deeper, more genuinely concerned. He isn’t trying to solve your ailment, he just wants to make you feel better. 

“It's just a grade,” He soothes, “It's just an exam, a midterm. This makes up maybe ten percent of your overall grade, and I know that you do well on everything else,” His head is cocked, looking at you so sweetly, “I bet it only looks this bad because it's mid-semester, your score will go up in a few weeks.”

You nod, squeezing your eyes shut as the last stray tears fall. 

“You’re alright,” He whispers, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the apple of your cheek, “Hm?”

Jace is alone that night, Montblanc pen held in perfect writing posture as he journals — an exercise recommended by his mother. The highlights include:

It was gutting. I just wanted to make it better & I didn’t know how. 

Inappropriate time to kiss her face, I couldn’t think of anything else.

I’m usually so good at comfort and reassurance, I don’t know what's wrong with me. 

Fuck, I’m hopeless. 

Things feel different to me now. Not in a particularly bad sense, just different. Maybe it's the transition from childhood friendship to adult friendship. 

I read that god awful serial romance novel last holiday because grandma left it sitting out – A Wallflower Christmas by Lisa Kelypas. And I remember this passage like ‘I want you under me. I know you deserve more respect than that.’

I found it, “I want you under me. On your back. / I’m sorry. You deserve more respect than that. But I can’t stop thinking of it. Your arms and legs around me. Your mouth, open for my kisses. I need too much of you. A lifetime of nights spent between your thighs wouldn't be enough. / I want to talk with you forever. I remember every word you’ve ever said to me. / If only I could visit you as a foreigner goes into a new country, learn the language of you, wander past all borders into every private and secret place. I would stay forever. I would become a citizen of you.”

I’ve been thinking of that passage, like it's playing aloud in my head. What does that mean? 

I don’t particularly feel that for her. 

I get some of it, like ‘I want to talk with you forever, I remember every word you say.’ Anything else though, the romantic bits, I don’t. 

Though, the kissing her face was new. It was compulsive almost, like I had to do it. 

Need to call mum. 

“Is it fair to you?” Rhaenyra asks through the phone. It's late, past the time she puts the little kids to bed, but she's never not answered a phone call from one of her children. 

Jace sighs, worrying one of the buttons on his cardigan, “What if it ruins everything?” He asks, “What if I tell her, and she never speaks to me again and then I lose my best friend?”

“But is that fair, Jace?” She reasons, “To go about a lifetime of friendship keeping this massive secret from her? It won’t go away, my love. It will fester and fester and eat at you for as long as you know her.”

He doesn’t have a good reply to that.

“Jacaerys, I spent twenty years pining after my best friend — so long that I had time to marry, have three children, and divorce. I spent years and years suffocating in regret, because I missed my chance to tell her and build a life. I got another chance, which is very rare, and it was no less scary that time. But, I knew that if I didn’t go for it then I would never have the opportunity to live the life I had spent my entire adolescence dreaming of,” Rhaenyra sighs, “My sweet boy, don’t let this slip away because you’re afraid.” 

'Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all, he thinks. 

When you accompany him home for summer break, hand in hand, it's with a new depth to your relationship. ‘Tis better to have loved.

tags<3 @one-big-fangirl

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[caxde]

dark honey | steve harrington x reader

summary you're Dustin's older sister, working on the new café next to Family Video and being best friends with Steve is your day to day, until feelings start to blossom one late night. (6.1k)

warnings fem!reader, fluff, mutual pining, yearning etc, slowburn friends to lovers, idiots in love!!!, mentions of alcohol use, english is not my first language so I apologise if there’s some mistakes, not proof read! 

part 2

-

“Just remember, I can’t pick you up today” you let out, with an exhausted sigh.

“Yeah, yeah I know, don’t worry.” Your little brother beamed up at you, his hair as wild as ever, even when it’s covered by his hat. 

“‘Kay, be careful, have a good day Dust!” You scream out at the little boy running inside the old building. He just lifts his hand up, giving you a little thumbs up as he runs up to his friends. 

You smile to yourself, the scene looks as though it had been picked out of a movie, the bright sun hitting you softly, the skies are blue and clear and you’ve got all of the day ahead of you. Well, not all of it was for you, you still had to go to work and whatnot, but as luck would have it, you absolutely adored your job. 

The little coffee shop had opened up a month ago, and it’s not like you didn’t like stocking videos and spending time on Family Video, but truth be told, you could do with the change.         Granted, it was next door, and it was slow at times, but it didn’t matter. 

You parked on your usual spot, the music on your car lingering for a second as you enjoyed the last notes of the song escaping through the speakers. 

Today, you were on your own, your coworker had opened for you, and was waiting for you to arrive so they could leave. They had begged you to cover for them so they could go to The University of Indianapolis and hopefully enroll onto one of their curses. Of course you agreed, you didn’t even need to know the reason, you always helped everyone, even if it meant that you would have to do a longer shift than usual, you didn’t really care as long as you felt useful. 

So there you were now, the first rush was almost over, and the little coffee shop was settling now. Someone was enjoying a book quietly by the window, and two friends were having a catch up moment, chatting animatedly over their black coffee and croissants. 

You turned your back to the door as you took advantage to clean a bit, the counter had some spills here and there, and your fingers seemed to be stained with the smell of the beans you had to grind. 

And you knew he was there, feeling his stare on your back as he stood patiently on the other side of the counter. You felt yourself smiling before you turned to him. 

It was his routine, you noticed. When you worked together he always came late and with a coffee stain on the corner of his mouth. Now he came five minutes before he had to clock in so he could say hello to you and have his coffee there, or to go if he was in a rush. 

“Hi” You said, warmth in your voice. 

“Hey” He said back, his head nodding at you as he pursed his lips together, his hair bouncing. “You doing okay?” You smiled as you always did before nodding at his questions. His voice was still hoarse from waking up. 

You turn around, placing a to-go cup on the coffee machine, starting it as you turn back at him. 

“I haven’t told you what I want yet.” He teased, the back of his hand scratching his eye, as if to get the rest of the sleep out. 

“You always order the same.” You tell him, your cheeks burning from glee to get to see him, even for five minutes. 

“I do not…” He scoffs, trying to sound offended, but his grin gives his happiness away. 

You shake your head, turning back to finish his order, and he just stands there, fixated on the way your black shirt is tucked into your flared jeans, and how your hair falls away from your face, all falling gracefully behind you, effortless. He had once asked you how you did your hair, and when you told him that you were too lazy to do anything else that wasn’t air dry it, he was too embarrassed to tell you about his long ritual, so he lied and said he did that too. His mind was snapped away from the colourful memory as soon as he saw you smiling at him, his little to-go on your hands. 

“There you go, Harrington.” You muttered as you placed it in front of him. 

“Thanks, Henderson.” He smiled at you as he took the first sip.

You turned away, continuing to clean up, when you heard his exasperated sigh. 

“I’m not letting you pay.” You remind him, as you look him over your shoulder, acting as if you’re too busy to actually do it. 

“Someday, you’ll have to let me pay!” He insisted. 

“Maybe, not today though, you’ll be late.” You tell him, nodding at the big clock on the right wall. 

“Shit, you’re right.” He said, taking another rushed sip. “When are you getting off?” He asked, with the same grin he always had. 

“Late, closing today.” You let him know. As he starts to walk to the door, you see how his face changes to one of concern. 

“Do you want me to pick up Dustin?” You look at him, briefly before smiling at the ground in a nod, you know that he’s serious, and that he’d do it if you asked. He’d do anything really if you asked, though you didn’t know it yet. 

“If you do, call him, I told him I couldn’t.” You say, gratitude obvious in your tone, his cheeks rise as he smiles at you. 

“Yeah, I’ve got a break I can use.” He opens the door, and takes a second to look at you one more time. “Bye.” 

“Bye Steve.” You say, more to yourself than him, as you see him rushing next door, given that his shift had started 2 minutes ago. 

-

Even for April, it was unreasonably cold that night, and you were glad that your shift was coming to an end. You weren’t exhausted, but you’d lie to yourself if you said that you would do anything else that wasn’t going straight to your bed once you were home. 

And obviously, it helped tremendously that Steve had come to sit at one of the back tables as he waited for you to finish, so you could both head home at the same time, as you used to do when you worked together. 

Honestly, you didn’t work that much back then. Sure, when it was a weekend you had no time to spare, but in the weekdays you two were usually messing around, his favourite game to play with you was throwing you small crumpled up paper balls, and seeing as you failed miserably to catch most of them, and celebrating when you did. It was stupid, but it was always full of giggles. He liked the sound of your voice when he managed to make you laugh. 

But now, Steve has found a new favourite past-time. He spent his time trying to find a movie you’d like, and pitching it to you when he came over his break, or when he walked to your car. He also enjoyed what he was doing now. Sitting down, acting as if he’s deep into a book, or magazine or whatever Robin had left behind, when really he was just looking at you. It was stupid and he was aware of it, but seeing you enjoy something you actually liked doing like making people coffee and teas and giving them pastries, seeing the way your voice would pitch up whenever a kid when to the counter and asked you for anything, and you’d smile deeply at them and make them laugh… He wasn’t sure why he liked doing this so much, he just let himself enjoy it, or rather, enjoy you. 

It was empty now, except for him. The clock marked eight o’clock, so you walked over to the lights, shutting them off. He stood up and turned the little sign of the door, from we’re open to sorry! we’re closed. You gleaned at him as he rested against the door, waiting for you to finish up. One final wipe of the counter, the glass cabinet was spotless, the coffee grinder was clean and it all smelled good. You took off your apron and folded it, keeping neatly for tomorrow. 

You smiled as you relaxed your shoulders, happy to be done, you looked at him, while he opened the door for you, and he waited beside you as you closed. You started walking, as he started talking about a new movie that had just arrived, and how you will definitely like this one, you grined up at him, as you shaked up a shiver out of your body. He stopped immediately.

“You’re shivering?” He asked, looking down at you, his hands deep in the pocket of his jacket. 

“It’s alright, I’ll get in the car and I’ll warm up.” You try to brush it off, but you see how his frown appears, and you start shaking your head no, when you see him take his hands out. “Steve, my car’s right there, it’s okay.” You try to negotiate with him, to no avail, he had already made a decision on his mind. 

“You always get sick.” He says, placing his jacket on your shoulders, and playfully pushing you to continue walking. 

“Thanks.” you say, your voice quieter than usual. 

You’re unsure why, but something in you warms up by that. Is it the fact that he knows you well enough to know that you’re easily sick? Or is it how he had bent down ever so slightly and placed the jacket carefully over you? You’re not sure and you don’t care, you’re just grateful he’s there, and that you can spend some more time with him. 

Maybe that’s why you’re not really paying attention anymore. 

Maybe you’re just too focused on the review of the movie he desperately wants you to see, or maybe it's the way his profile looks with the street lights shining behind him. However, you’re glad he’s there. 

And maybe that's why you don’t realise the way your foot had bent over a rock that you hadn’t seen. Not only did you now have a sprained ankle, but you almost fell to the ground. If it weren’t for him. And the way his hand had reached out for you, and how his arm had wrapped around your waist in one smooth swoop. 

You weren’t sure if your heart was beating fast because you thought you were falling, or because Steve was holding you close. 

And he wasn’t sure either. 

He just knew that he thought you were going to hurt yourself, so he needed to make sure you didn’t, so he just grabbed you as close and as tight as he could. His hand was on your waist, and for some reason he was the one short of breath. 

His eyes looked deep into yours, as your chest raised up and down faster than before, he gave you a half smile, as he helped you to your feet again. Now you were grateful the sun was going down, since you could feel the burning on your cheeks, growing pink by the second. 

His hand lingered on the small of your back for a moment too long as he made sure you could stand up okay on your own. 

“Are you okay?” He said, his voice hardly above a whisper, still looking attentively at you.

You can’t help but laugh a bit, maybe nervously, maybe because you don’t really know what to say. 

“Yeah, yeah I’m good.” You say, tucking your hair behind your ear, looking up at him, his brown eyes looking at you, you can see the worry wash away from them as you smile at him. “Good catch.” 

That makes him laugh and you know that everything is fine now. 

But you still don’t understand why his touch has left your skin burning, or why you can’t seem to fall asleep once you're on your bed, why every time you close your eyes you see his eyes looking deeply into yours, and you remember his touch.  

-

“You’ll pick me up today?” Dustin asked, sitting on the passenger sit, with his usual up-beat tone. 

“Mmh, yeah.” You replayed lazily, sleep still present on you. 

“You shouldn’t be driving if you’re still asleep.” He remarked, at witch you scoffed, head tilting a bit as you focused on the red light. 

“You’re not driving.” You glanced at him, his mischievous grin on his face made you laugh at his direction. 

“Soon enough.” He chirped. You notice how his eyes focus up for a second, as a thought seems to worry him. 

“Spit it out Dustin.” You tell him, as the light changes from red to green. 

“Can my friends come today?” YOu scrunch your eyebrows in response, not really understanding why he was asking you. 

“Did you ask mom?” 

“Mom’s going away with Hank.” You chuckle at him, and the aversion he seemed to have with the older man. 

“Hot Hank?” You tease him, as you see his face scrunching up at your words. 

“Eww. You’re disgusting!” 

“Come on! Mom’s got a hot boyfriend” You tell him, closing distance with the school now.

“Gross.” He mutters as he hears you laugh, your right hand brushing your hair away from your face. “Do you have a boyfriend?” 

“What?”

“What?” His eyebrows lifted as he looked at you, fear and curiosity on his face. 

“Dusty, I do not.” You tell him, as you fail to park your car for the first time. 

“But you like someone?” He kept pushing for an answer, and if you were honest, your rosy cheeks didn’t exactly help you right now. 

“Oh yes, his name is David, he’s a singer from britain…” you begin to mock him, in an attempt to distract him. 

“Okay, okay… So can they come?” He asks you, his eyes looking at you through his baseball cap. 

“Yeah, sure. Do you need anything from the store?” You ask as you celebrate that you have finally parked the car successfully. 

“Just some snacks and stuff like that.” 

“Okay kid, am I taking anyone else home later?” 

“Oh, I dunno.” You nodded at him, as he opened the door, running away as he does every morning, leaving you with an upside down smile.

-

When Dustin had asked if his friends could come over, you expected four high schoolers squatting on your couch. What you didn’t really expect was a party of seven boys invading your living room, pulling chairs together, surrounding the dining table with papers scattered, dice, figurines, and everything that had the word nerd written all over them. Eddie had mouthed a sorry at you as soon as he had crossed the door, seeing you shocked at the amount of people that were now in your home, completely ruining your plan to just sit on your couch and enjoy your free afternoon, catching in some of the movies that Steve had insisted that you watch. 

However, you were grateful you had bought snacks and everything Dustin had suggested. You weren’t aware of just how hungry they get. 

You decided that hiding in the kitchen might be your best shot, if you wanted some peace and quiet. You were bored out of your mind, and didn’t really know what to do, so you did what you always did, you scavenged around your cabinets to see what you could find, some activity that would distract you long enough. 

You're unaware of your surroundings once you’ve decided to start baking. You had some leftover flour, some brown sugar and a little packet of yeast, you knew you could make something with that. You walked to your fridge, where some eggs, vanilla extract and chocolate was there. Okay then, you think to yourself, chocolate cookies it is. 

You were so deep in thought that you jumped when you saw him there all of a sudden. Bouncing a bit once you find him there, resting on the side of your kitchen door. 

“Shit.” You mutter, looking at the ground, and being relieved that you didn’t drop the egg. 

“Sorry.” Steve said in a soft-spoken voice, raising his hands in an apologetic movement. 

“It’s okay, I just wasn’t expecting you here.” You let him know, closing distance with the counter, dropping the rest of the ingredients. 

“Well if I’m not welcome I’ll just go” You know he’s teasing you, that Steve Harrington smirk gave him away, and your soft smile made his shoulders drop. 

“I didn’t know you were in Hellfire.” You tell him, as you search for the measuring cup, avoiding his eye contact. 

“I’m not”

“Oh, then… What are you doing here?” 

What was he doing here? If he was honest with himself, he just wanted to come over and spend time with you, he missed you. He kept telling himself that you're his friend, and that that’s all there is, but deep down, he knew that his fingertips still burned every time he thought about how close you two were a week ago, and how he had held you tight and close.  

“You weren’t working, so I guessed you uh… Where home?” He seemed to ask it more to himself than you, as you look over at him, you see how he’s scratching the back of his neck nervously. You knew him well enough, but refrained from telling him anything else, nodding at him with a soft smile. 

“Well I’m here so…” You pointed at the little chair you had laying about, so he could sit beside you. Making him shorter once he sat down, so he was the one looking up at you now. 

“So, what are we baking?” He chirped, which made you giggle. 

“You’re banned from baking Harrington.” You teased him, as you pointed at him with the empty measuring cup, the flour and sugar already in the bowl. 

“I only burned one cake!” He tried to argue, his eyebrows raised. 

“And that’s one too many!” You rebutted, laughing animatedly. He seemed to melt, as he hid his head behind his hands, stifling his own laugh. “You can be my sous chef.” 

“Deal.” 

You nod as you start biting the inside of your cheek. You hadn’t been this close with Steve since the failed fall, and you could feel how the hairs of your arms raised every time his body came a bit too close. 

And it was confusing. 

You had him chopping up some of the chocolate bar, and when his body pressed into yours to dunk the small pieces into the sweet mixture, you felt it again, that shortness of breath, that electricity, and that tingling, it was there, contaminating the air. 

Steve felt it too, but in his defense, he had never been able to see your eyes from that distance, and he had not appreciated enough how your hands were delicate and skilled at everything they did. 

The cookies were now formed and in the oven, and you felt a new sense of achievement. You smiled deeply at him. Steve looked down at you with his eyes deeply focused on the way your lips curved, he raised his hand and you high fived it instinctively, what he did later however you didn’t mind or were going to stop it. 

Even Steve didn’t know why his fingers decided to tangle with yours, or why his eyes were locked into them, feeling how soft your skin was, and enjoying your touch, the softness of it. They fitted, he taught, like a puzzle that had just been completed. He also liked that your thumb had begun a short pattern on the back of his hand, caressing him a bit. And if he wasn’t so focused on looking at your intertwined hands, he might have noticed how your cheeks were now warm and pinkish now. 

“Sweetheart?” You heard Eddie’s voice coming into the kitchen, and you both let go all of a sudden, both embarrassed at the moment you had just shared. 

“Hey, M” you replayed, your voice shaking ever so slightly, just enough for Steve to notice and for him to grin at the ground. “What’s up?” 

“Um-” He took a moment, a second really to let his eyes wander between the both of you, as you nervously scratched your forehead with your index finger. “We’re almost done with the campaign.” He lets you know. “And we’re playing tonight at the Hideout, wondering if you wanted to come?” 

“Oh sure Eddie, I’ll be ready.” You blurb out, trying to get him to leave, not really thinking of the boy next to you, nor registering the way he was now biting the inside of his cheek trying not to blurt out a very loud what?

“Great.” He smirks, as he taps away at the door frame, his rings clinging at the touch. “Oh, the cookies smell great by the way.” He says as he rushes back to the living room. 

“Thank you, M.” 

“Guess I’ll go now.” Steve mutters, and you squint at him, not understanding why he sounds hurt. 

“What-Why?” You're even more confused now, seeing that he also looks hurt. 

“I don’t feel like going to The Hideout, and seeing you looking at Eddie all night long.” He scoffs, you immediately roll your eyes, and shake your head ever so slightly. 

“What are you on about Steve?” You’re starting to get upset at him, not really following him. 

“Nothing, I just rather stay home tonight, okay?” He’s cold now, and you’re in shock. Not really understanding or following what’s going on. 

“Oh, uhm… okay?” You half ask as you see him head to the door. Staying hopeful. “I’ll see you tomorrow?” 

“Yeah. See you tomorrow.” 

-

It’s not that you were mad. Or confused. 

Honestly, you were just uncomfortable. 

You hadn’t taken time to process anything that had happened in such a short time, though you suppose it hadn’t been that short. 

You had known Steve ever since you started middle school. You had been close friends, best friends even for as long as you can remember, and maybe it’s the alcohol running through your veins, or the way he had left all of a sudden after holding your hand so softly, but something was clear in your head now, you were sure you liked him. 

To make matters worse, Eddie had pointed it out on the ride here. 

He told you that he didn’t know Steve for that long, but that he was pretty sure he hadn’t seen him so shy around anyone but you. You scoffed it off, and told him to fuck off. 

But now that you were four beers deep, you couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his stupid eyes, and his stupid smile. You had been sitting down at the bar for some time, and the friendly bartender was keeping you company, he had told you that Corroded Coffin was running late, and that they wouldn't probably play for another hour. 

You weren’t sure you could wait that long, but then again, Eddie had been your ride. 

“Hey…” Eddie’s voice was coming from behind you, and you turned around slowly, in a faze. 

“Eddie” You chirped, looking at him, you realised that the alcohol had finally taken over your body, so you were more giggly than usual. 

“I’m sorry” He muttered, his head slightly tilted so his bangs were out of the way. “I think we’ll play later than we thought.” 

“S’fine” You blabbered, as you moved your hand at him, bumping his chest in a playful manner. “Maybe I’ll go home, that’s fine?” He nodded, with a laugh. 

“You’ll be hungover tomorrow.” He joked, nudging you back. 

“Mmh, you bet.” You jumped from your stool until you reached the ground. “Bye Edds!” you said, heading for the exit. 

“Wait, you’ve got someone to drive you home?” You shook your head no. “It’s raining, like a lot, and you live so far away…” He tried to explain to you, slowly, knowing that your brain was working slower than usual. 

“I’ll take a call, just second.” You turn around, the friendly bartender already pointing you at the direction of the little telephone post on the beat up wall. “Aw, thanks.” 

Once you had the handset on your hand, and you were dialing the number, you began biting the inside of your cheek, you were half ashamed that his number had popped out so fast into your mind. You hoped he didn’t mind. 

“He-Hello?” He sounded half asleep, his voice croaky and soft. 

“ ‘m sorry.” You let out. 

“Shit, are you okay?” You could feel the panic in his voice, you didn’t want him to worry. 

“Yeah, I just, I don’t wanna be here anymore, and I… yours’s the only number I remember.” You were slurring your words together now.

“Are you still in The Hideout?” He asked, trying to remain calm. 

“Mmmh.” You muttered, his voice seemed to belong there, right by your ear. 

“I’ll be there in no time ‘kay?” 

“I’m sorry.” You say, your voice now beginning to break, feeling remorse and anxious for making him worry, for having called him. “I just..-” 

“I know, just stay there, I’m coming to get you okay, honey?” Honey

“M’kay.” 

You could only hear the cut out line now through the receiver, but it still rang on your ears. honey honey honey. 

-

As soon as he had heard your voice on the receiver his heart had stopped for a second, worry leaked into his body. Maybe it was irrational, because he knew you were safe regardless. But for some reason, knowing wasn’t enough, he needed to make sure, he needed to see you and see that you weren’t too far gone. 

Maybe that’s why he doesn’t realise that he has sprinted out of his house with his old checkered pajama pants, and his faded out Hawkins High shirt. That he has mismatched socks and his shoes aren’t all the way in, with his heel out. He only realises the state that he’s in once he tries to open the car, his keys jingling on his hands, and his socks now damp from the wet pavement that the pouring rain has left, he doesn’t care that his hair is wet, or that his shirt is colder now. Your voice is the only thing he’s got on his mind, how you sounded shy and uncomfortable, how you mumbled out words in your most sincere tone. 

How he had to cut you off before you told him something you didn’t mean. 

How he hated that he wanted to tell you something he might regret. 

It was hopeless.

 As soon as he arrived at The Hideout, and saw you out against the wall, covered from the rain he knew, deep down, that his feelings for you had changed. His jaw unclentched, his shoulders relaxed, and his breathing was back to normal. He was calm once he saw you, and your eyes seemed brighter once you realise he was there. 

With his brown hair wet, sticking to his face, but the kindest look in the way he looked at you, you rushed inside the car, relived that he camed, and thankful for the warmth that escaped the ventilation system from his BMW. 

-

Your cheeks have been hurting for a while. Warmth in them. 

Steve had drove you home, and then back to his when you told him you didn’t want to go back home tonight. 

You hadn’t said anything, and he already had some old spare gym shorts and a sweatshirt out for you.

“Here.” You’re unsure you’ve ever heard his voice that soft. 

Your hand travels up to meet his, that same electricity growing bigger between you, from the tip of his finger that touched the back of your hand, to your whole entire body as you looked at him through your eyelashes. His eyes seemed bigger, and his lips pinker. 

“Uh, I-”

“You can take a shower… I’ll uh…” He’s lost once again, his heart beating faster than ever before. 

You find yourself not really speaking. You nod at him with some confusion in your mind. The hot shower helps in a way. 

Your body is relaxed at last, but your mind still feels like it needs to be ironed out. You’re pretty sure you know why this is happening, but you’re scared to even think of it, because if it is true you’ll just complicate it all. If you really think that your skin tingles every time he brushes it, you’ll have to admit to yourself it is because you really want him to hold you tightly, and that you’re curious as to the way his chest looks under his shirt, and that you wonder how his lips would feel against your own skin. 

It all smelled like him. The expensive shampoo he had made your hair feel softer, and you find yourself daydreaming about how it would feel to run your fingers through his, as you brush yours out. His sweatshirt, his towels, it made you dizzy for the first time. 

But coming back to the kitchen and seeing him cooking up something for you, while he hummed some song you didn’t quite understand, almost took your breath away. You could feel how your lips curled upwards, and how your cheeks started to warm up again. 

You're back in a daze, and it might be him coming to pick you up, or maybe it’s him taking care of you, or actually it’s what you’ve come to realise. You’re falling for him.  

It doesn’t really matter, because you can always blame the alcohol, so you just approach him, and hug him tightly from behind. 

Your hands around his waist, your chest pressed against his back, your face buried into him, breathing him in. 

His heart skips a beat as soon as he feels your hands around him. He’s beaming, and his smile deepens when he feels your thumb rubbing his stomach in a soft motion. It gets worse when he feels the way you nuzzle your face into his back, a small chuckle escaped his lips. 

“Hey” He whispered, afraid that if he moved you’d pull away. 

“Hi” You answered, speaking just as softly as he did. “What’re you doing?” You mumbled against his skin, moving a bit so he could actually hear you. 

“Oh- Uhm… I just, I thought that you’d be kinnda hungry so…” You can’t help yourself from giggling, your head poking out, arms still around him. 

“Mac and Cheese?” You ask, your voice higher in pitch, once you see the empty Kraft dinner box laying on the counter. 

“Well, I’m not that good at cooking, but this is easy enough to make.” He tries to convince you as he keeps stirring the pot. 

He finally turns around, his head looking down at you. The dim light of the kitchen makes his eyes have the colour of dark honey, and you’re close enough to him to count his beauty marks if you wanted to. You realise you’re still holding him, you don’t want to pull away, and he doesn’t want you to either. Your breath shortens when you see his hand approaching your face, placing a strand of damp hair behind your ear, you can’t help yourself. 

“You’re pretty.” You tell him, voice barely above a whisper. Your eyes look up at him with pure adoration, and he seems to forget that he’s supposed to keep stirring the pot for a second. 

He knows you’re not lying. But it doesn’t stop him from not believing you. 

“You’re drunk.” He replies, hiding a nervous laugh. But it stays with him. pretty. 

“And you’re still pretty.” You let out in a short laugh. He shakes his head with a soft smile, turning back to the stove as he finishes what he was doing. 

You had realised it before, but he really is beautiful. Sure, handsome could also be used, but the word pretty seemed to fit him better. Steve’s soft  and kind, and warm. Boys that are handsome are always cold and rough and mean. 

“Eat up, Honey.” He whispers as he hands you a hot plate, his hand brushing yours as you grab it. 

There it was again, honey. 

Every time this word leaves his lips it sounds sweet, and calming, and full of care for you. 

“You should have some too, s’good.” You let out as soon as you try it. He just giggles and nods, serving a plate for himself. 

You eat quietly, stealing glances from time to time. Smiling when you catch the other staring, and giggling while asking a soft what. It didn’t matter, and it didn’t need to be said, but it was clear that both of you were starting to change, Steve had it clear in his mind. He has absolutely fallen for you. 

You, on the other hand, didn’t feel drunk anymore, the beers had washed away a long time ago, and you felt in an absolute daze every time you look over at him, you know that this feeling in your chest of vertigo and excitement was just a sign, a warning one, a i could love you if you let me kind of feeling that you weren’t sure you could verbalize. 

It comes out when you have to go to sleep. 

You had slept in his bed a hundred times before, countless sleepovers with and without Robin where you shared that space, but for some reason, both of you knew this was different. 

You always ask him to hug you until you fall asleep, but you had never felt your chest about to burst before asking. And even if your voice shakes a little, you manage to ask him, softly. 

“Stevie?” 

“Yeah?” 

“Can you hug me?” He nods as soon as he hears your question. 

He pulls his body closer to yours, opening his arms so you’ll rest your head on his chest. He waits for your leg to land above his waist, pulling him in as you always have done, so he can pull you in. Only this time, every caress, every touch that your skin makes with his seem to ignite another part of his body, goosebumps appearing. His hands get buried in your hair, and your fingers get stuck doodling something on his chest. 

“Did you use my shampoo?” He lets out with a soft laugh as soon as the familiar scent hits his nose. 

“Yeah, fabregé… Didn’t know you were this fancy.” You tease him, feeling how his heart beats, a soft lullaby.

“Yeah well… You haven’t seen the Farrah Fawcet hair spray.” He mumbles, playing with your hair. He knew that would make you chuckle, and he smiles when he hears the noise escaping from your lips, wondering how you sound in other circumstances. 

“Farrah Fawcet?” You move your head up to look at him, a soft grin on his lips. 

“Yeah.” He nods as he says. The hand that was in your hair is now holding your face, his thumb stroking your jawline softly, playing with your bottom lip when it comes into contact. 

You feel how fast his heart is beating, which can only mean that he can tell how loud yours is. He's lost in your eyes, you're lost in his lips.

“Steve?” 

“Yes?” 

You need a second longer to take him in for a second, he looked angelic with the street lights that creeped from his window. And you’re sure your heart had just skipped a beat. 

“I really want to kiss you.” You tell him. 

“I really want to kiss you too.” He reassures you, his eyes twinkling with sincerity. “But you’re drunk.” 

“ ‘m not.” You try to plea, but deep down, you know he’s right. 

You feel his hand pulling you closer to him, and his lips leave a soft kiss on your forehead. He stays like that, enjoying you, taking it all in, trying to talk even with a knot in his throat. 

“If you wake up tomorrow and you still want me to kiss you, I will.” He whispers. 

You nod, pulling away enough so you could look at him. You’re unsure as to why he’s being so careful around you. 

“Steve?” A calm sleepy tone left your voice. 

“Honey?” He asked as you rested your head in his chest again, his hand still on the crook of your neck.

“Will you kiss me tomorrow?” 

“I’ll kiss you anytime you ask me to.” 

-

if you enjoyed it please leave a comment or reblog. i promise it makes a huge difference <3 part 2

[ghost-proofbaby]

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!)

[mewhenimanangel]

and they were roommates, mikasa ackerman

pairing: mikasa ackerman x fem!reader

synopsis: you and mikasa have been friends since middle school, practically inseparable. who knew you were both in love with each other

content!: friends to lovers, swearing, alcohol, mutual pining, girls kissing, fingering, oral sex, nipple play, object insertion, sapphic

nia’s ౨ৎ notes: there’s a severe lack of mikasa fics, also how do you guys write the craziest smut and not feel a little awkward like omg

next ‎𐦍

you hurried up the stairs to your apartment to get ready for a date with some guy you'd met the other day. grabbing your keys you opened your front door to see your roommate and best friend, mikasa, on the couch.

"hey mika" you greeted her throwing off your jacket and shoes. "hey, you're later than usual" she said, getting up from her spot. "ugh my boss had me working over time. he's so fucking annoying, swear he has it out for me." you rushed to the bathroom. "why are you running around?" she asked you who was now completely shirtless covering your nipples with your arm.

her face got hot and she looked away bending to grab something from the fridge. you'd been friends since middle school and were practically inseparable. you graduated high school and college together, moved to a big city together and got an apartment together. you trusted her with everything and she did with you. you'd grown extremely comfortable around each other and she never had a problem seeing your bare body, until lately.

mikasa found herself developing feelings for you, her best friend. she was obsessed with the way you talked, how you carried yourself, your humor and how you made her feel. she realized she had feelings for you about eight months ago when you guys got drunk when eren was over and brought a pack of cigarettes for you.

it was so out of the blue, she watched you do something you usually always did but something about this night - the way the fire from your lighter illuminated on your face, the way your slender fingers wrapped around the cig, the way you blew a kiss at her when you caught her staring, it made her heart flutter. then when you all were falling asleep later that night, you and her shared the couch while eren slept in the arm chair. you'd kicked off your jeans and got on the couch with her, tangling your bare legs with hers, falling asleep in the crook of her neck.

"i have a date remember, the guy i told you about from the coffee shop" you told her, running to get your towel from your room. her face dropped and she shut the door, she did remember - she remembered how you were gushing about some random guy while she sat there yearning for you. "you're actually going out with that weirdo?" she scoffed. "aw come on he's cute. plus i need a good fuck right now" you giggled.

'i could do that for you' she thought to herself.

you went into the bathroom and hopped in the shower while mikasa flopped down on the couch, resuming sex and the city.

she heard the shower stop and stole a glance at you coming out in your towel.

you were gone in your room for about ten minutes before you came back out in a tiny black dress that stopped just below your ass and matching black heels. you'd put your hair up and your make up looked gorgeous. mikasa couldn't stop looking at you, that asshole doesn't deserve to have you looking this good for him.

"can you help me zip up this?" you asked her, putting your earrings in. she got up and turned you around zipping up the dress and letting her hands linger on you for a second too long.

"bye i'll see you later" you gave her an air kiss so not to mess up your lipgloss. "be safe" was all she said before you were out the door.

mikasa took a shower and went to her room to relax while you were out.

𐦍

you groaned entering your apartment and kicking your heels off by the door. you went to the kitchen to grab a bottle of vodka before flopping down on the couch.

"y/n? how come you're back so early?" mikasa came into the living room. she was in a pair of boy shorts and a tank top, her short hair messy. "ohhh my god i need to tell you everything." you exclaimed as she went to sit down next to you.

you put down your drink and she took a sip souring her face at the taste. "this is strong as hell" she grimaced.

"that's how bad it was. okay we went downtown to zen sushi right. and everything was like fine but like he kept getting like slightly mad or like irritated with me. and he kept making like weird comments about how much i had dressed up. and oh my god he was so rude to the waiter i literally had to apologize to them. and then he made me split the bill???? like i don't mind splitting but if you're gonna be a weirdo asshole the whole night at least pay for my meal you fucking freak" you explained to her, taking another swig.

"and when we left i was just so over it that when he asked me if i wanted to come to his place, i immediately said no like not even a second thought because he literally can't be serious." you shook your head.

"knew i was right about him being a weirdo" she said. "ugh so right" you sighed, laying down on the throw, body sprawled across her lap. she rest her hand on your thigh and drew little circles over it with her thumb while taking another swig from the bottle.

"just mad cause i wasted this cute ass dress and i'm horny." you whined, grabbing your phone. mikasa felt her face get hot again at your statement. she stared down at you for a while before you realized and looked back at her, it was now you realized how high her hand was on your thigh. you instinctively spread your legs apart, thigh hitting the back of the couch.

her hand just barely inched further up your thigh, thumb rubbing over your leg softly. mikasa's eyebrows scrunched together as she gulped and finally for the first time you could see the want in her eyes.

you eased up on your butt and brought your face close to hers. you didn't miss the way her grey eyes flickered down to your mouth and staying there for a while before leaning in to kiss you.

your eyes widened before you kissed her back too. she rest her hands on the side of your face, pressing her body onto yours as you leaned back on the chair arm. "i've been wanting this for so long" you whispered, pulling away. "you have?" she asked. "yeah i just thought you weren't into me" you shrugged. "you're bad at reading people." she laughed. "been wanting you for so fucking long" she kissed you again.

in no time her tongue was in your mouth, sliding across yours. your breath hitched when you felt her hand press against your throat and her knee pressing against your core.

she let go your lips, sucking on your bottom lip on her way to your neck. she licked down your neck stopping at your collarbone to press kisses and sucking on it, leaving small bruises.

you moved your hand to swipe your thumb over her nipple that was poking through her tank, making you swallow the moan that ripped out of her. you moved your hand under her shirt and squeezed into the plush of her tit.

you leaned up from the chair arm and lift her shirt up over head, ogling her boobs as they fell out of the thin fabric.

you ran your warm tongue over her pink nipple, looking up at her to see the way her face reddened. she put her hand through your hair while you sucked on her nipple, pulling and twisting the other one. "god that feels so good" she moaned, arching her chest into your face.

you continued before getting up and pulling her off the couch as well. you grabbed her hands and pulled her to your room with a smirk on your face. you threw your arms around her neck while she grabbed your face and pushed you onto the bed, landing on top of you. her bare chest pressed against yours, still clad in your dress. she reached for the hem of it and pulled it over your head, your turn for your boobs to fall out of your clothes.

"no bra? cant believe you were gonna give that bastard all this" she said before kissing your already swollen lips. you reached your hand down into her bottoms and pressed your fingers against her clit. you felt her mouth drop open as her eyes clenched tight.

she let out breathy moans as you worked your fingers over her. using the pads of your middle and ring finger to rub circles on her clit. you gently pushed her off you laying her down on the bed before tugging her shorts down, a string of slick connecting her cunt with her underwear.

you pushed your fingers pass her slit, curling them inside her. "mmf- feels so good y/n" she moaned out. you moved your thumb to rub on her clit while you drove your fingers inside her. you felt her jump at the added stimulation before biting into her lips so hard, blood was drawn. "fuck just like that~ keep going" she whined. you were one to follow orders so you pumped your fingers deep inside her while quickening your pace on her clit.

her chest rose and fell faster and her legs were beginning to shake, she closed her eyes tight before moaning out "i'm gonna cum y/n" "i know baby, look at me while you do" you smirked. seconds later she came on your fingers like flood gates broke and you brought your fingers up to your mouth sucking on her fluids.

you brought them back down to her cunt before shoving them in her mouth "taste yourself baby" you whispered, feeling her tongue swirl around them. you replaced your fingers with your mouth tasting the metallic flavor on her lips.

she pulled away for air "i wanna taste you" she pulled her bottom lip between her teeth with a smile. you smiled before flipping your body under hers in excitement. she licked down from your neck, stopping to lick and suck on your tits earning moans from you before she dug her fingers into the lace of your panties and dragging them down your legs.

she lifted your leg over her shoulder lining kisses down it before she reached your pussy. licked up your slit making you jump before she brought your hips back down shoving your cunt in her face.

she circled her tongue over your clit making you cry out a moan. "god mika that feels so fucking good~" you whimpered. she sucked your folds before pressing her tongue past them. the licking mixed with her sucking lips was driving you insane. "fuck mikasa! i'm gonna cum~" you moaned. your stomach felt warm before you reached your orgasm, sending your sticky fluids all over mikasa's tongue and lips.

she lapped every last drop up and swallowed it down. you got up to kiss her and she kissed you back before pushing you down on the pillows. "we're not done yet baby." she reached into the bottom drawer of your nightstand, grabbing the pink dildo she knew you owned.

your face felt hot seeing her holding it in her hands. she moved in front of you and spread your legs, lining it up with your hole. she pushed it past your entrance easing it inside you inch by inch, watching as your hole clenched around it. she pumped it in and out of you while you moaned out with arousal.

"you ever think of me when you fuck yourself? wishing it was me instead" she asked. "yes~" you moaned out, covering your face in embarrassment. "no baby, wanna see my best friend's pretty face while i fuck her~" she smirked, moving over you to suck on your tongue and bottom lip.

she used her thumb to rub over your clit while continuing to slam the dildo inside you, almost hitting your cervix. tears pricked your eyes as you wailed out. "fuck! oh my god! m'gonna cum"

"go ahead pretty baby." she said, kissing you again. you could hardly contain yourself so it was mostly just you moaning into her mouth until you came again. you rest your hands on her shoulders as you properly kissed her, moving to rub your hands through her hair.

you stayed like that for a minute before she leaned up and pulled the dildo out of you, watching as your cum pooled out of your hole.

mikasa got up and left the room while you sat there and thought about if that really just happened. she came back into the room, holding your now cleaned dildo before putting it back in your nightstand.

she smiled at your disheveled fucked out state, hair once in a bun now falling at your shoulders struggling to stay in the rubber bands. "you wanna take a shower?" she asked you. you nod your head and eased on to your shaking legs. she held your waist on the way to the bathroom before turning on the water.

you put on your shower cap before getting in behind her.

"you wanna sleep in my bed tonight?" you asked her as you dried off. "yeah" she kissed you. you got dressed in a pair of old boxers and a t shirt before moisturizing your skin. you heard your door open and smiled seeing mikasa come into the room in a new pair of boy shorts and a t shirt.

you threw your arms around her neck and pressed your lips on hers in a quick peck. "i could seriously get used to that" she smiled. you turned off your lamp and crawled into your bed with her. you tangled your legs between hers as you kept your arms wrapped around each other.

"i really like you y/n. like so much" she smiled. "i like you too mikasa, a lot. for a while now actually" you smiled. she smiled before kissing you again.

your eyes felt droopy and you fell asleep in the crook of mikasa's neck listening to her soft breathing and the city noise outside.

[daryltwdixon]

The Ruins of Us: Chapter 18

summary: When the group heads out on their search for Sophia and Daryl doesn't return at first, you know something is wrong. In a flashback, you run into Merle after months of no contact, stirring up memories of your past with the Dixon brothers.

warnings: daryl gets hurt, little bit of gore, emoshie, if you have mommy issues like me some mentions of y/n’s mom are a bummer

notes: two chapters in one night!!! I couldn't help it I'm so emotional!!

x flashback x

Your first school year had dragged by, maybe because of your intense yearning to be home. As messy as your childhood had been—from your drunk mother who barely noticed you, to the cramped, damp trailer you shared with her—there was still one thing that had made it all bearable. Well, one person, and the need you felt to get back to him had been debilitating.

After your confrontation with Daryl in the fall semester, you hadn’t tried calling him. He had dropped out of your orbit completely, leaving you feeling emptier and more alone than you’d expected. Shane had come and gone, but your relationship with him had been rocky—he’d known you couldn’t shake the sadness of losing your best friend. Every once in a while, you’d managed to have a good night with Shane, but the second you were back in your dorm, the loneliness had hit again, especially when your roommate, Dana, had been out.

You’d kept busy, though. A part-time job at a local, family-owned coffee shop in downtown Atlanta had filled most of your days, and the bus ride back and forth had been a welcome distraction. Some days you’d volunteered at the women’s shelter, other times at the dog kennels. You hadn’t been afraid to get your hands dirty. Physical labor had kept your mind off the ache inside. But sometimes, seeing the bond between mothers and children, even in the most dire straits, had made your heart pang with longing for what could’ve been—what should’ve been—your life. A life where your mother had cared enough to even notice you.

The dogs, though, had brought a different kind of joy. You’d often taken them for runs, letting them burn off their pent-up energy—and your own. But no amount of running could have stopped your thoughts from circling back to Daryl. He would’ve loved it. You could almost see him grinning at the sight of those dogs, playful and free. His dad never would’ve allowed a pet, though. Daryl wouldn’t have wanted to leave any animal alone in that house with his monster of a father anyway.

Sometimes, your hand would twitch toward your phone, ready to call him, ask him to walk with you like before. But then you’d remember—you couldn’t just pick up and call him anymore. He wasn’t yours to reach out to.

One afternoon, as you’d been walking to the bus stop after a long shift at the shelter, a familiar figure had caught your eye. Your steps had faltered.

It had been Merle, leaning against the bus stop post, a cigarette hanging lazily between his fingers. You hadn’t seen either of the Dixon brothers in months. Panic had fluttered in your chest, and you’d briefly considered turning around, finding another stop, maybe even wasting money on a cab.

But it had been too late. Merle’s sharp blue eyes locked onto yours.

“Well, hey now!” Merle called to you, pulling his cigarette from his mouth, his voice carrying that rough, sarcastic edge you’d remembered so well. You had frozen, your heart thudding in your chest. It had been so long since you’d seen either of the Dixon brothers, and you hadn’t been sure you were ready for this.

Merle approached, his pale face even thinner than you’d remembered, but his eyes were still sharp. “Look who’s all fancy now,” he drawled, flicking the ash from his cigarette. “Miss Big City College Girl. Thought you’d done gone and forgot ‘bout us nobodies.” His smile was crooked, teasing, but there was something behind it—something worn down.

You swallowed, trying to think of what to say, but the words didn’t come. Instead, you just stared at him, taking in how different he looked.

Merle raised an eyebrow, taking another drag from his cigarette. “What, cat got your tongue? You ain’t too good to talk to ol’ Merle now, are ya?” He chuckled, but his eyes never left yours, gauging your reaction.

You shook your head, forcing a smile. “No, it’s not like that.”

“Uh-huh.” Merle smirked, stepping closer. “So what’s the matter? You runnin’ from somethin’ or just runnin’ late for your fancy bus ride back to the dorm?” He gestured loosely with his cigarette, clearly amused by the discomfort he was causing.

You glanced down the street, half-hoping the bus would miraculously show up, but it hadn’t. “I was just—on my way home.”

“Home,” Merle repeated, tilting his head, his grin widening. “Ain’t that somethin’. You got yourself a nice cozy place now, huh? Doin’ all good for yourself?” His tone was still mocking, but there had been something beneath it, something almost bitter.

“I’m just... trying to get through school,” you said quietly, shifting uncomfortably under his gaze.

Merle chuckled, shaking his head. “Tryin’ to get through, huh? Yeah, that’s what we’re all doin’, sweetheart. Only some of us don’t got no fancy degrees waitin’ for us at the end.”

He took another drag of his cigarette, exhaling the smoke with a sigh. “You talk to Daryl?” His voice had suddenly been more serious, the mockery slipping for just a moment.

You hesitated, the pang of loss hitting you again. “No... not in a while.”

Merle’s eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite read—disappointment, maybe, or concern hidden behind his usual bravado. He scoffed lightly, “Figures. Kid’s been mopin’ around like a damn lost dog since you left. Don’t take it personal, though. He’s just stubborn as hell.”

You nodded, unsure of what to say. There was a heavy silence between you, the weight of everything unsaid pressing down.

Merle flicked his cigarette to the ground, crushing it under his boot. “Well, you know where to find us, darlin’. Don’t be a stranger.” He’d flashed you one last teasing grin, but there had been a softness in his eyes before he turned and walked away, leaving you standing there with a mix of emotions you couldn’t quite sort through.

X flash forward x

You’re out by the vehicles with Carol, hanging laundry on the line, keeping busy in the cool morning light. You’d had such a deep sleep overnight after Daryl returned safely, but at first light, you were up, eager to occupy yourself. Surprisingly, Carol had been outside too, fussing with the linens, and you decided to join her.

After an hour or so, Lori makes her way out of the tent she set up for her family. You pause at the sight of her, instinctively averting your eyes as you pin another shirt to the line.

“Can’t believe I slept in that long,” Lori mutters to Carol, wiping her brow.

“You must’ve needed it,” Carol replies, holding your pins as you straighten the shirt. Lori pats Carol’s shoulder, but then her eyes land on you. There’s a long pause, and you catch her gaze for a moment too long before quickly looking away. She doesn’t say anything, and you turn your focus back to the laundry, accepting a pair of jeans from Carol.

As Carol and Lori start chatting about cooking a meal for the Greene family that evening, you stay quiet. “You in, Y/N?” Carol asks.

You barely hear her, distracted by the sound of the guys coming up behind you, calling out good mornings as they approach the blue truck. Shane lays down a large map across the hood, and once you finish clipping the jeans, you walk over to join them. Daryl is nearby, slipping into a red plaid shirt as he approaches the group.

As you move up beside him, you feel his eyes on you for a split second before he looks away. You don’t say anything, listening as Rick starts assigning new grids to search. One of Hershel’s boys is there too, volunteering to join in. You glance at Daryl, trying to gauge his reaction.

Shane, ever impatient, grumbles from the passenger side of the truck. Daryl ignores him, pointing to the map. “I’m gonna borrow a horse, head up this ridge here,” he says, his finger tracing a creek near the northern mountain with steep elevation.

You lean in, lowering your voice. “You sure that’s a good idea? Do you even know how to ride?”

Daryl’s jaw tightens, but he doesn’t look at you. “If she’s up there, I’ll spot her,” he says simply.

T-Dog chuckles. “Maybe you’ll see your chupacabra up there too,” he teases, grinning.

Despite Daryl’s brush-off, you manage a small smile, remembering that story.

“Chupacabra?” Rick asks, raising an eyebrow.

Dale laughs as he approaches from the other side of the truck. “First night at camp, Daryl was tellin’ us about the time he went squirrel huntin’ and swore he saw one.”

Rick smirks, and even the new kid lets out a chuckle. You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh. You’ve heard the story before—the blood-sucking dog Daryl claimed to have seen during one of his long trips in the woods.

Daryl glares at the new kid. “Whatchu brayin’ at, jackass?”

You bite your lip, barely holding back another laugh.

Rick, still amused, shakes his head. “You really believe in a blood-sucking dog?”

Daryl doesn’t miss a beat. “You believe dead people are walkin’ around?”

Rick nods, conceding the point, as the conversation returns to the trails and search plans.

“I’ll go with this guy,” you say, nodding toward Hershel’s boy. “We can cover more ground if Daryl and I split up. Both bein’ trackers and all,”

Rick gives you a concerned look. “You sure you’re fit to be out there?”

You square your shoulders, giving him a firm nod. “I’ll be fine.”

The boy heads off to grab a gun, and you call after him, “You ever shot one before?”

He grabs it with a cocky grin. “Well, if I’m goin’ out there, I want one.”

You stifle a laugh at his confidence. He’s pale, tall, and lanky—clearly not someone used to being out in the sun. You wonder how he’s managed to stay so sheltered, living on a farm and all.

Daryl, rolling his eyes at the boy’s bravado, mutters, “Yeah, and people in hell want Slurpees.”

This time, you can’t hold back the laugh, the sound escaping you before you can stop it.

As you start walking past Shane, who’s been watching the whole exchange, he throws one last jab your way. “He’s yours to babysit then. Like a toddler watchin’ a baby.”

Without missing a beat, you raise your middle finger over your shoulder, and keep walking.

—

It’s just about evening when you and Jimmy return, the sinking sun casting long shadows across the farm. You’d found out that Jimmy wasn’t even Hershel’s kid, but Beth’s boyfriend. Strangely, you hadn’t even seen the girl yet—her name floated around every once in a while, but she seemed to be staying holed up in the house. You couldn’t blame her, really. In this new world, hiding away seemed like the safest thing to do.

As you and Jimmy approach the tree line, the rhythmic drum of hoofbeats draws your attention. You turn toward the sound, scanning the horizon. A chestnut horse gallops toward the farm, its reins flapping wildly, stirrups bouncing against its sides.

Your stomach plummets. Daryl had taken a horse earlier.

But the horse running toward the farm is riderless.

Jimmy runs out to try to slow her down, and your heart is pumping in your ears now. He’s lost, he’s hurt, he’s stuck somewhere, or –no, you’re not letting your mind think the worst things yet. But where the fuck is he? 

The sky turns pink as the sun lowers, and a yell whips through the air. Andrea’s voice.

You run toward the RV, your heart pounding in your ears, ignoring the ache in your side. As you approach, you hear the clatter of a rifle being loaded.

“Andrea—” you say quietly, climbing up the RV to see her aiming the rifle. Her eyes are locked on something moving in the distance.

“Maybe we should—” You’re cut off by Rick and Shane arguing nearby, saying they’ll handle it without shooting. They start sprinting toward the figure, and you breathe a sigh of relief–just a lone walker. They’ll take care of it with a knife.

But then Andrea drops to her stomach, her finger twitching on the trigger.

“Andrea, I think they’ve got it covered.”

“Back off, Y/N,” she snaps, her tone sharp and dismissive. You pull back, stunned by her attitude, but remain quiet. Your eyes drift toward the walker shambling out of the woods, still too far to identify. It moves sluggishly, holding something behind it. Mud and blood coat its body.

The others slow as they approach, Rick raising his gun. Shane, Glenn, and T-Dog are lowering their weapons. You can barely hear their voices, and the walker lifts its head. 

Daryl. 

“Andrea, no!” you shout, but she’s pulled the trigger, rifle cracking through the air. 

A scream rips from your mouth as you watch in horror as he’s thrown backward by impact. You don’t remember your feet hitting the ground, but your heart is in your ears as you run as fast as you ever have in your life. You’re flying through the tall brush, Rick screaming back at Andrea, but you can’t hear him. You just see the anguish on his face. 

Oh god, oh god, oh god. 

They say your life flashes before your eyes when you die–but what about those who are the most important to you? Memories flash in your mind now, Daryl laughing about something stupid as a kid, punching kids in the face when they messed with you, sitting by the lake, looking into his eyes…

Shane and Rick are already hoisting Daryl up as you reach them, your heart pounding so hard you feel dizzy.

“Daryl?! DARYL ?” Your voice is ragged as Shane and Rick approach with Daryl’s limp body between them. Panic twists inside you as your hands grab his muddy, blood-soaked face. His eyes are closed.

“Unconscious,” Rick says sternly, irritation dripping from his words, “she just grazed him,”

“Look at him,” Glenn’s voice cracks, “look–he’s wearing ears ,” he’s pointing wide eyed at the cord around Daryl’s neck, where you see three shriveled, blue tinged walker ears hanging.

“Jesus, Daryl,” you say, disbelief and horror in your voice. You begin walking beside Shane, watching Daryl closely. As they drag him back through the pasture, Rick plucks the cord from Daryl’s neck, shaking his head and hiding them in his shirt, “Let’s keep this to ourselves.”

T-Dog’s voice calls out from behind. “Guys—isn’t this Sophia’s?” He holds up a raggedy doll, the one you remember seeing Sophia clutch for dear life. Your heart skips a beat, staring at the fabric doll with red braided hair and green eyes.

You sit beside Daryl’s bed as Hershel finishes cleaning the wound on his side. The farmhouse feels too quiet as Daryl describes where he found the doll to Rick.

“Washed up on the shore. She must’ve dropped it crossin’ there,” Daryl says, his voice scratchy and hoarse as he presses a cloth to his head.

Talk of the search grid fades into the background as you watch Daryl. They bring up the horse you saw run wild across the field, and Hershel’s soft voice echoes in the room. “That one’s Nelly—nervous Nelly. Would’ve told you she’d throw you if you’d bothered to ask.”

You shake your head, dropping your face into your hands. Elbows resting on your knees, the weight of everything crashes over you. Hershel, Rick, and Shane slip out of the room quietly, though Shane makes sure to meet your eye before closing the door behind him.

The silence thickens.

You finally look over at Daryl. His back is to you, still covered in mud and grime, but his wound is a glaring contrast—so clean, a strange beacon against the mud and grime of him. You study the familiar tattoos and the old scars, remembering every one. It feels strange, loving someone so deeply, yet feeling like they’re a million miles away. 

There’s a soft murmur of voices outside, but you ignore it while gathering the courage to sit beside him. You settle at the crux of his knee, where it’s bent on the bed. Your weight causes the mattress to sag. The irony of the traded positions isn’t lost on you.

“Tryna’ get even with me?” you ask softly, trying to ease the tension with a little humor.

Daryl remains quiet, chewing his lip, his eyes fixed on the wall. Something’s bothering him—something deeper than the physical pain. Gently, you rest your hand on his hip, offering comfort.

He finally turns, his eyes locking with yours. His lips twitch slightly, but there’s too much swirling in his gaze to form words.

Before you can ask him what’s on his mind, the door creaks open. Carol pokes her head in, a sad smile on her face. “You comin’ to dinner?”

You glance between her and Daryl. “‘M not hungry,” you say quietly, and you add a “thank you,” as she nods and closes the door, leaving the two of you alone again.

The silence stretches on for a beat too long, both of you staring at each other. You bring your bottom lip between your teeth, chewing it, waiting for him to speak.

“Shane threatened me,” he finally mutters, his voice low and gravelly.

Your stomach flips on itself, “What?” the word is barely a sound, the breath feeling like it's been knocked out of you.

Daryl begins to sit up gingerly, pushing himself up against the headboard and wall of the bed to fully face you, “Back, before all this shit…” he begins, looking around the room. Eventually his eyes meet yours, “when you were with him. He came to me before ya went to school,”

Your brain is trying hard to keep up, but inside you feel like your insides are on fire at this admission.

“He came to me and told me if I didn’t stay away from ya, he’d make sure Merle or I’d get in trouble. That he’d lock up Merle ,” his voice is so quiet now, you’re leaning in inch by inch to fully understand, “Said he’d be able to make it look legit, ya know? Plant somethin–drugs, weapons. Didn’t matter–said all he needed was an excuse, that it would be easy, and Merle was good as done. You remember how Merle was back then, Y/N,”

The fire inside is rushing up into anger, disbelief washing over you, but Daryl isn’t giving you time to respond. His words tumble out now, faster, like a dam breaking. Like he’s been working up to this moment the whole time, “I didn’t know what to do. Hell, I didn’t even tell Merle. Just figured it was better to keep my distance, y’know?” After a long pause he adds, “Figured you were better off without me around, anyway,” his eyes glance away at that, his hands coming up to rest his face in. He slouches over, and your hand hovers his shoulder–unsure if you should touch. You’re so close to him now.

After a deep sigh, he looks up at you again, hands falling, “I was such an asshole, Y/N. I’m sorry. I hated it everyday. Couldn’t stand to look at ya, think of ya… it was too much,”

Your throat tightens, your mind racing as you try to process his words. “Daryl, you… you should’ve told me.”

“I couldn’t,” he says, his voice sharp, pained. “What was I supposed to say? That I was too damn scared to stand up to him? That I let him push me away from the only person that ever mattered?” His fists clench in his lap, frustration and guilt boiling over. Your heart is doing somersaults in your chest, “I was just tryna protect my brother… and you.”

You’re silent for a long moment, the weight of his confession settling in. You hadn’t known. All this time, you’d thought Daryl had pushed you away because he didn’t care—because he didn’t want you around. But now, hearing the truth, it’s like a punch to the gut. Shane had been manipulating everything.

“Daryl,” you breathe, letting your hand finally rest on his arm. He flinches at first, like he doesn’t deserve your touch, but then he brings his hand up to yours, and his fingers close around yours.

“I’m sorry,” he mutters, his voice cracking just enough for you to hear the depth of his regret.

You shake your head, trying to keep the anger at bay—anger at Shane, at everything he did to control you both. But more than anything, you feel the sharp ache of how much Daryl had kept inside, all this time.

“You didn’t have to do that,” you whisper, your voice cracking now, “I never would’ve chosen him over you.”

His head dips, a shadow of a sad smile flickering on his lips, “Didn’t feel like either of us had much of a choice.”

You sit quietly beside him, letting the truth of it all sink in. There’s a long silence between you, but this time, it’s different. It feels like a space that’s been opened up—something that needed to be said finally coming to light.

[coconut-dreamz]

touch it

touch it || tom blyth x famous! reader

a/n: saw a tiktok using a sped up version of this song and knew i needed to write something with it for my husband. i think it’s gender neutral. i didn’t use any gendered descriptions. hope you enjoy !!

warnings: one curse word, a little suggestive, but nothing too spicy. reader is implied to be a celebrity of some sort, but it’s very vague.

how do I make the phone ring?

why do I even care?

you were sitting on your bed, staring at your phone, not so patiently waiting for a call, a text, even a simple instagram like from the man that had been plaguing your thoughts lately. 

ugh, you were pathetic. why did you even care if he liked your latest instagram post. it's not like there was anything going on between the two of you. you had just recently met through your mutual friend rachel. and things had certainly hit it off, but you weren't together. at least, not officially. 

and now here you were, waiting for a simple notification from tom that showed that he was thinking about you too. god, when did this happen?

how are you all around me when you're not really there?

when you're not really there?

you saw him everywhere now. you saw him in the coffee shop you visited everyday, in the park you walked by everyday and the city lights that shone through your window at night. all the while, he was on a completely different side of the planet, probably with some other girl. who knew?

no matter where you went, you'd see him. in the bakeries on the street, the coffee shops you visited and the city lights in any city you went to. but there was no confirmation that he felt the same way.

how do I feel you on me when you're not on my skin?

why do you say you want me, then tell me "I'm not coming in"?

baby, just come on in

the two of you had just gotten back from drinks with some friends. being the gentleman he is, he walked you home. your apartment wasn't too far from the bar anyways. despite the space between you two, you could feel his warmth on your skin.

"thanks for walking me home, tom," you stare up at his blue eyes. "it's no problem," he smiles, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. you both slowly lean in, the space between you decreasing with every second.

when your lips finally meet, it's like electricity flowing through your body. your hands cup his face as his snake their way down to your waist. it must've been the hundredth time you two had kissed, but the feeling never went away. as he deepens the kiss, your hands move up from his face to tangle up in his hair. his, move their way down south, finding a home on your ass. 

after a few moments, you two break apart, gasping for breath. you unlock the door behind you, it had been long forgotten as you two kissed. "you coming in?" you ask as you push the door open, looking up at him. "no, i shouldn't stay." he answers, but his eyes tell another story.

you simply nod and bid him goodbye. as you close the door behind you, the once warm feeling that filled you turns cold as you yearn for him to come back. you open the door and shout out, “just come in!”

hearing this he whips his head around with a large grin. he just shakes his head at you and enters your apartment.

'cause every time I'm with you, i go into a zone

and i remember all the places you wanna go

you had mentioned in passing that it had been years since you had gone to an arcade. hearing this, tom took it upon himself to take you. as you two played around on the different games, the world around you fades away. it felt as if you two were the only people in the world. that's how things seemed to work whenever you had tom by your side.

you had noticed the way that you remembered everything tom had said. the places he wanted to go, the food he wanted to eat, and more importantly, the things he wanted to do. you wanted nothing more than to experience it all with him. 

'cause every time i see you, i don't wanna behave

i’m tired of waiting so let’s pick up the pace

whenever you and tom were out in public, you wanted to throw all the pr training you had out the window. it took you everything in you to not start making out with him on the corner of the street as you two waited for some tacos. 

there was just something about tom that made him irresistible to you. "i got the tacos, are you ready to go?" he asks, bag of tacos in hand. "forget the tacos, i want you right now." thankfully, his apartment was nearby. the second he unlocks the door, you push him against the door and kiss him passionately, causing the bag to drop on the floor. 

he returns the passion and aggression, picking you up and pushing you against the door instead. his teeth nip at your bottom lip, causing a moan to slip out of your lip. "bedroom?" you ask as you part momentarily. he doesn't reply, merely nodding before leading you to his bedroom.

remind me why we're taking a break

it's obviously insane

'cause we both know what we want

so why don't we fall in love?

baby, let's fall in love

it had been a few weeks since you had last spoke, let alone seen tom. a stupid argument about god knows what had led to you two taking a break. at this point, you couldn't even remember what it was about. 

you just missed him, even if he was in the wrong. or were you in the wrong? who knew at this point? all you knew was that you wanted to be with him. "tom? i'm sorry, i was being overdramatic. i miss you." you blurt out as soon as he answers the call. "i'm sorry too, i was being overdramatic too.  i miss you. i think i'm falling in love with you." he admits to you, you don't wait a second before responding. "i think i'm falling in love with you too. come over?" "i'll be there in 10." he answers immediately before hanging up, probably in a rush to come see you. you smiled to yourself at his urgency, counting down the seconds until you two reunited. 

you're broken out of your thoughts at the sound of a knock. you quickly get up and open the door to reveal the man who’d been plaguing your thoughts from the moment your eyes met across the crowded room. he wastes no time and embraces you, sealing your lips with his own in a searing kiss.

“i’m sorry or i forgive you. i don’t even remember anymore. but i know that i am sorry for letting something so stupid get in between us. you’re the most important person in my life. i love you, so much.” he confess, your foreheads resting against each other. “i love you too, so, so much.” you move forward to kiss him. “does that mean we’re dating now?” you ask him, looking into his eyes. he laughs hearing that, “i thought we already were dating.” you laugh at his response. “well, we’re definitely dating now.” you declare with a smile.

[boltonbritreads]

I am at the point of truly begging anons to stop sending hate to writers and ruining the ability for people to share their writing and others to get to read and engage with it. It literally just ruins everything for everyone and taints a space that’s supposed to be anything from comfort, escapism, a creative outlet, to hanging out with friends.

truly- what is the goal? what do you get out of pushing writers off the platform and making a fandom have even less engagement? I wish there was a “stop, are you really sure you want to send that message” screen before you could send anons sometimes so bc of that…..

🖤🖤 Eddie Munson Fic Rec List! 🖤🖤

as a reader who gets so much comfort and vital escapism from fanfic I want to just shout out some incredible stories I’ve been following/read lately:

*totally non exhaustive and just what I could remember at work!!* I’m hoping to add more & eventually made a proper list

@munson-blurbs’s “Trapped Under Ice” - truly lovely single dad eddie story that has so much heart and fluff and getting to see Eddie and Ms Sweetheart build their relationship and grow together has been so satisfying and lovely to read

@corroded-hellfire “As You Wish” I can’t even put into words 😩 I’m so down bad for this eddie and this fic and every single time reader gets to gets to spend time with Luke and Ryan and eddie gets even more smitten I melt

@upsidedownwithsteve’s “Simmer”!! I am truly losing my mind over simmer and as a fellow crybaby who just needs that extra comfort sometime, I yearn for Simmer!Eddie. Truly this fic means so much to me and I relate so so much to reader it makes me cry

@pinkrelish “The Yes Policy” - I mean, do I even have to say anything? It’s everything you could ever want and more in an eddie fic and the descriptions and imagery in every chapter my god ♥️🐭

@abibliophobiaa “Daylight” - holy shit I can’t express the itch this fic scratches it’s just the best and an absolute fluffy comfort fest. Lovesick Eddie, Unplanned Pregnancy reader, strangers to friends to lovers, cuddling in bed?? what more can you ask for?? I really love how *spoilers* eddie has accepted his feelings for reader and is just waiting for if/when she decides to go further with him, ball in her court

@sunflowergirl522 - “M’Lady, M’Lord” oh my this was so good and fun to read!! I’m such a sucker for goofy eddie and seeing reader meet him where he is and be playful back is just *chefs kiss*

@ghost-proofbaby - ok so basically anything Ghost has ever written is incredible but my highlights are “24 hours” because of course it is like ?? such a cool concept and the execution was perfection. I haven’t felt like I’m on the edge of my seat week-to-week for a fic in a while and seeing everyone react to each chapter and collectively lose our minds was so fun and something I love about fanfic!! After you’ve read “24 hours,” head on over to “So Scarlet (It was Maroon)” for some angst and pain and then chase it with “Coffee Shop Blues” for cute slice of life at a coffee shop with barista!eddie 🥰

@neonghostlights - “To the Moon & Back” alien eddie!!! I’m loving this series so far and how much fun and tension can be built into the dynamic of alien eddie and reader who have some language/cultural barriers but also like…..eddie gets it 👀👅

@harrywavycurly - there’s truly so much to choose from!! their master list has so much and there’s all kinds of text fics to dip into and a whole universe of Eddie’s! I personally love and am following “Trouble Next Door,” “It Was Just One Night,” and “Eddie’s Wish.” I desperately want TND eddie and reader to just get to smooch and cuddle but uh….I think getting over being cheated on and getting a divorce takes longer than I’d like 🫤

@carolmunson “Orange Coloured Sky” the older!eddie of dreeeeeeams my god 😍 from start to current this story has been so fun to follow and I’m loving the characterisation of this older eddie who is confident and hot but also….such a dork like immediately texting Steve “she said I’m the best she’s ever had 😎” I can’t

@luveline - ok anything and everything Jade has ever written, literally an entire treasure trove of a master list and the obviously heavy hitters are “June Baby!” and the “Eddie and Roan” series for all of the baby fever of reading about eddie and a cute baby but I also wanted to shout out the fic “A Quest for Bed” because it was so gosh darn sweet and fluffy and I love seeing eddie take care of reader once in a while

@trashmouth-richie - again another obvious incredible gorgeous fic “Honey I’m Home,” it’s so so beautiful and heart wrenching and funny and I’m in awe of the compassion and tenderness show towards the characters in this story. I adore HIH with everything but also “Do You Like How the Water Tastes” has been such a fun new story to dig into! I feel like I truly can’t predict what each chapter will be like and I keep being surprised by how Eddie interacts with reader and it makes each new chapter so exciting to read bc I think it’ll go one way and then I’m totally surprised!!

[cofay]

You know me like no other…

♡ CUPIDS ARROW ⤑

Part1….Part 2…Part 3…

You were Cupid you make people fall in love with one other y’know? Just spreading love all around. Well you didn’t exactly like your job. In fact you dreaded having to do this forever, for the rest of your life. Instead you longed for something else.

Something better.

You yearned for your own happiness with a lucky guy.

But sadly you had responsibilities, and the god’s weren’t going to let you tear it down just to feel something stupid mortals feel.

It was a normal day you were following people and with just a look you could make them fall in love with each other. You were in the elevator with a women standing closely behind her you were dressed from head to toe in black, as you waited a man walked in the elevator and with just one looked you walked out as they kissed behind you.

Grueling…Boring…Uneventful…and yearning that’s all you felt you were jealous. Jealous of the mortals, jealous of their lives every single one of them. As you walked outside you sat at a small table right outside of a coffee shop.

The thing is nobody can see you

Absolutely nobody

That’s the problem after every person you just end up wishing you could be them falling in love, having family’s, getting married…you sigh as a person walks past you, quickly you get up and grab an umbrella and walking behind her

It didn’t take long until the rain started to pour down and as if on queue a random guy showed up and you did what you always did made them fall in love as they turned away walking hand in hand under the umbrella together you turn the opposite way following someone else

They walked into a museum it was crowded as you look up you see the huge magnificent painting.

The creation of Adam.

It was the best painting you’ve ever laid your eyes on. Well until you saw him. Izuku Midoriya, you’ve only seen him a couple times I mean nobody gets to make someone with a name as big as him fall in love and it seemed like he wouldn’t anytime soon with being the number one hero.

You watched as people left one by one. But he stayed and just admired the painting while you on the other hand admired him. He was beautiful, from his fluffy green hair…his freckles….his bright green eyes. He was perfect.

Just the guy you imagined you would

Fall in love with….gosh how you wanted him to hold you.

As he started to walk away and to the elevator you followed him closely behind, you stood behind the curly head watching him intently, a women walked in and usually you would have…well done what you were supposed to do but you couldn’t…even if you tried.

You kept looking at him following him even as he walked out following him into the bus you sat in the seat right next to him leaning in closer as you analyzed his features. But atlas good things come to an end.

You watched him walk out the bus knowing you most likely wouldn’t be able to follow him anymore..you walk out the train watching him walk away almost wanting no wishing for him to see you, to touch you, you listen to you, to be with you.

You looked up catching the eye of the five Erotes or your helpers, you’ve never seen them work before but you know if they caught wind of what you were thinking of doing they would snitch right to the gods.

And most likely you didn’t want that to happen you can’t let that happen so you followed a random person and did what you always do.

Give them what you wanted.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

It was a late night and you couldn’t stop yourself anymore you snuck into Izuku’s penthouse coming in through the window stepping softly on the floor…you tip toed through the halls softly finding his room rather quickly.

You cracked opened the door and then you saw his sleeping body you went next to him brushing a small curl out his face taking in all you can, you climb onto the bed over top of him hovering over his face.

You didn’t stop yourself you knew it was wrong but you still just wanted to see..just this once, you lifted your hand softly grazing his cheek it felt so soft you soon lifting your hands up into his hair running your fingers through his kinky curls and watching them bounce back to normal.

Everything felt so real like..in a certain way well until you turned your head to the mirror..as you looked into the mirror your reflection was nowhere to be seen.

Making your face turn sour you turned your head to the window seeing the erotes once more you frowned getting off of him and leaving his house all together.

You walked the empty streets looking around watching the trees blow slowly in the cold wind looking up into the starlight sky and the flickering street lights shining towards the wet damp ground.

Oh how you just wanted to change everything.

You wanted things to be different

So bad.

‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿‿

[miaisocool]

Echoes of silence

Business man!Daemon Targaryen x College student reader!

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: A very short chapter but as the story progresses it will get longer and more exciting i promise and props to @kymopoleiak for making me this collage please go follow her she is also working with me as i write the chapters. This is a chapter two to Succession in the city so if you haven't read that please go do so!! check it out i will provide a link below!

Chapter one: Succession in the city

Chapter summary: You discover yourself entangled in the intricate dance of hesitation. Your Heartbeat resonating with echoes of silence and opportunity as you prepare to take the initiative. You cant help but ponder what will this engagement of communication lead to opportunities or a chapter in your life writing itself away.

At brunch:

As you walked and talked with Mia, there was a sense of comfort held within her presence as she was your childhood friend well, not technically since you only met her your freshman year of high school. she also moved to los angeles to pursue her dream of going to college in california but she wasn't sure what to study. You talked about everything from work to relationships, the conversations you guys usually held between each other flowed easily there was never any awkward silence being held or grudges against each other.

Only the feeling of each others presence comforting the two of you there was a sense of vulnerability in you whenever it came to mia she was the friend who you would come to whenever there was something that you couldn't reveal to others she was the only one that had ever seen tears flowing from your eyes which was all so new to you since sadness was the one emotion you never truly expressed to anybody, not even yourself it was a rare occurrence whenever you would break down either due to stress, sadness or just bottled up emotions of holding everything in for so long.

The streets were filled with horns honking, shoes clacking against the pavement the cool breeze swept your hair into your face, you tucked it behind your ear with a thoughtless, practiced motion, as if you'd done it a thousand times before. Your high heels clacked against the concrete as you and mia walked to your favorite brunch spot that remind you of a similar brunch spot in new york,

During your junior year of high school where your ex boyfriend took you out for a first date you were young, vulnerable and thoughtless. He was whom and what your whole world revolved around you pushed all of your friends away to make room for him causing your social skills to go down although you were very social and a great conversationalist and just a good people person in general. You felt like you were bound to him, the late night phone conversations, talking about wedding plannings and how many kids you guys would have, where you guys would settle down and his answer was usually italy which was a answer you didn't agree with since california was your mission ever since you were a young girl you felt as if he was the only guy you could ever put your trust in.

Even years after the breakup there was slight tinges of heartbreak pulling on your heart strings as you still remembered the contact of his touch the way his calloused fingers from playing guitar for you until you fell asleep would graze up and down against your soft thighs the skin to skin hard and soft contact felt comforting to you, you guys were complete opposites but there was something that spiritually connected you guys together you couldn't remember his face though it was hard to get it out when your heart yearned for him.. But you were alone now not hopeless, alone, broken but you were free, alone, still young and truly yourself.

The restaurant was your comfort spot the warmth of the sun glazed on your face bringing out your dilated pupils as you thought of the man that came up to you in the coffee shop last week. The outside fan blowing a slight coldness to your face fighting against the sunny heat of california, dishes were clanking against each other as waiters were scurrying around the restaurant as if they were rats from ratatouille helping to serve the rush of customers that came in. The modern black leathered chairs bringing out the restaurants not very vibrant atmosphere gave you a weird tinge of discomfort people walking near you and mia as you guys sat down outside listening to the birds chirp and cars pass by. You felt a knot slowly untangle in your throat as you let words flow out your mouth "I mean.. i dont know.. should i call him?" you asked under your breath as you fiddled with the glass you were holding the question hung in the air until, mia took a sip of her water. Ice clinking against the glass and then she brought back the glass down to the table "i mean whats the worse that could happen?" she said nonchalantly. Mia was somewhat right whats the worse that could happen but what could go right and if it did end up going up right what would happen?

"I dont know.. im just scared"

"Of?"

"I dont know.."

"See? you dont even know whats holding you back," mia shook her head at you as she scrolled through her phone before putting it facing down on the table again

"Sometimes, it's easier to do nothing rather than put yourself out there," you whispered the words catching the back of your throat.

"Sometimes it's ok to be the first to reach out" mia gritted her teeth in frustration as her eyes drooped low in dissatisfaction

you nodded your head cause you knew she was right

You take out the business card from your wallet, and carefully dial the number into your phone, trying to steady your somewhat shaking hand. The ringing sounds of the phone echoes in your ear as you look and make eye contact with mia as she takes a spliff of her cigarette between her cherry tinted lipstick staining thumbing the print left by her lipstick as she dusts the idle ash as her eyes connected with yours with a mere look. You feel your heart beating fast as you await to hear someone's voice on the other end.

After what felt like an eternity, the seconds seem to stretch on for an eternity before someone finally answers, and you can hear the relief wash over you as you hear, "Thank you for calling Targaryen Law and associates you’ve reached Alexa how can i assist you today?” Her voice resonated with assurance, triggering a vivid flashback to your own days in customer service. Memories flooded back from when you were just 18, working at a local grocery store. You remembered the feeling of dread each time the phone rang, the pressure to handle customer inquiries. Alexa's composed demeanor stirred those long-buried recollections, reminding you of the challenges you once faced in a similar role you didn’t enjoy it but your coworkers that got along with you made you enjoy it. you had to make a living if you wanted to end up successful or not homeless at least.

With a deep breath, you manage to clear your throat and free it from the tense knot that had formed there. The echoes of the impatient silence you heard on the phone still ring in your ears, causing a dull ache deep within your chest. You feel as if the silence itself had taken physical form.

“Yeah hi this is kiara i was hoping to speak with Mr Targaryen? is he available by any chance?”

"I understand your urgency. Let me see if I can arrange a brief moment for you. Please hold for a moment while I try to get Mr. Targaryen on the line."

You place the phone away from you as you fiddled with it in with your right hand waiting for what you assumed to be his assistant or one of his employees to say a response back quickly as if you knew the next words that were going to come out her mouth but that was a lie you didn't know her at all you wanted to, you longed for the mystery everyone had.. the mystery the people in Los Angeles held in his aura peaked your curiosity.. You take a few deep breaths to release the tension from your shoulders. As you look up, the light from the sun reflecting off the glass buildings surrounding you blinds you for a moment. A cool gust of wind blows past, bringing in the smell of flowers and city life. The sounds of honking cars, people chatting, and the hum of the city surround you, but you feel disconnected from it all being seconds or minutes away daemons presence as you were being transferred right there and on the phone with you knowing you had to take initiative.

“Daemon Targaryen speaking.”

As you heard Daemon Targaryen’s, dominant voice, a palpable sense of authority washed over you sending adrenaline throughtout your heart slowly beating at a faster tempo his words, deep and commanding, resonated through the phone, leaving no room for uncertainty. You couldn’t help but feel a mixture of respect and awe, tinged with a hint of intimidation. It was as though his voice had a magnetic pull, drawing you into his sphere of influence. His confident tone left an indelible impression.

You found yourself in shock by the way his voice flowed through your ears, each word dripping with authority and confidence. It wasn’t just the words he spoke, but the cadence, the resonance that seemed to echo in the very core of your being his words resonating with every chord coming from the music that was blasting in the restaurant. In that moment, you realized you were not just hearing a voice…

you were experiencing a commanding presence that stirred something deep within you.

“Yeah hi this is kiara… you gave me you’re Business card last week in the coffee shop i’m not sure if you remember” In a moment of panic, you found your voice, though it trembled slightly, breaking the silence that followed his powerful presence although he was over the phone and had no physical contact with you showed you how vulnerable you could be in his presence.

“Ah yes kiara i remember you, i gave you my card since i knew once how it was to be working on those weird marketing projects”

His voice had a magnetic pull, echoing into your ears It was a voice of empathy and softness, yet there was still an underlying intensity to it, as if it was trying to hold back the strength of his power. It was a voice that commanded attention and respect, yet it was also a voice that invited tenderness and compassion.

“yeah… studying marketing is weird.. it’s just that i’m struggling with it you know?”

You felt like there was barbed wires wrapped around your throat as words left your tongue when you made contact with the man who had higher power, held such a confident demeanor over you which is what possibly could’ve attracted you to call him he wasn’t ordinary like everyone else but he carried this mystery about his self and it felt like you had the opportunity to break his skin open and crawl inside his body confronting every secret he was hiding the mysteries or grudges he held against the strangers he would come across the interactions he had with a object or just a human in general made your mind wander with curiousity.

“Im available tomorrow since all my meetings were canceled due to.. god knows what.”

 his voice was like thunder sharp and commanding a touch of amusement in it, a glimmer of light that made you feel like you were the most important person in the world. His words held power, but there was a playful note in his voice, as if he were letting you in on a secret that nobody else ever had their ears opened to.

“My companys address is on the back of the card how does three pm work for you?” His deepened voice that sounded like silk against your touch intensified with curiosity that had peaked

“uh… yeah! i can meet that time at three pm tomorrow” You said overlapping the noise of the resturants music so mia could hear you. You couldn't help but feel a surge of excitement as mias eyes widened in surprise and her lips curves into a smile as she patted you on the forearm, her actions bringing back all of your senses as the man’s voice of authority and confidence had blocked out everything from the world and made you feel like there was nothing else in the world except his presence or yours. The thought made your heart race with anticipation. It was a feeling that was both exhilarating and terrifying at the same time

“I’m glad to hear that, tomorrow give me a call when you’re here” It was a voice that demanded attention, and you were powerless to resist.

His voice combined with that sentence sent adrenaline to coarse throughout your veins. slowly coming back to your senses as you take a look at the brunch spot you guys had been at for the past hour and a half the aromas of cooked foods such as eggs, toast, sausages and variety’s of different lunch and breakfast sandwiches.

The not so vibrant interior comforting your skin as you made contact with it slowly turning into a cozy sense of home the home you had back in new york the warmth of the sunlight beaming off of the windows onto your face showing all of your features to your dilated pupils and exposed pores, porcelain skin.

Unfortunately the brunch spot wasn’t in a quiet neighborhood away from the city unlike the other spots you were used to in new york you could hear horns honking the sounds of people chattering and laughing somewhat muffling the conversation you held with mia and the conversation you held not too long ago with the man.. Daemon..

Daemon targaryen

You remembered from his card that he previously handed to you

The brunch spot was perfect for chatting and enjoying the presence of loved ones.

Perhaps even daemon.

if you dared to allow yourself the possibility. But deep down, you knew that was your delusions getting to you. It was best not to set yourself up for disappointment, to keep a clear head and enjoy the moment for what it was nothing more, nothing less. As you sat there, you let out a deep breath, watching the steam rise from your lips and melt into the air around you. For now, you were content to simply relax and let the world pass you by, taking comfort in the knowledge that, in this moment, everything was exactly where it should be.

[hoshologies]

. . . ENHA HYUNG LINE AND ROMANCE TROPES

warnings none / genre fluff, office & college & friends to lovers & second chance au / word count 1.3k (~300 per member)

LEE HEESEUNG is your work colleague at suh enterprises, a fellow data analyst. his cubicle is just across the walkway from your own and you’ve been enamored from day one; outside of your supervisor, heeseung was the first person to greet you on your very first day, telling you that if you had any questions or needed anything, he was more than willing to help. with soft doe eyes and a gentle smile, you were gone at first glance.

since then, it’s been a slow march forward in your relationship with him. for a long few months, it was one-sided yearning glances and little keurig meetings in the break room, chatting about your weekends and the office birthday parties coming up, mundane things that really don’t mean much in the grand scheme of things.

but then he’d started peeking his head into your cubicle, asking if you wanted the rest of his lunch because he was full, passing you his half-empty bento box and a clean pair of chopsticks. on days you were sick, you’d come back to work with vitamin c packets on your desk; other days, a mug of coffee would be waiting on a coaster in your cubicle, made just the way you like it. sometimes, heeseung even waits for you on late nights, slowing down his own pace so you can leave together.

what neither of you know is that the office has a betting pool on when you’re going to realize you’re in love with each other and make it official; beomgyu, resident office gambler, has a hundred won placed on another year of suffering through your “disgusting” beating around the bush (turns out, he’s a few days short and wins close to four hundred won).

PARK JONGSEONG changes your ideology on love at first sight. he’s a regular at your favorite study place: the cafe just down the block from your apartment building. you’re five semesters deep into your bachelors in psychology, so you’re in the coffee shop often (give or take every single day of the week). there’s a table you love that’s close to the front, but not so close that you’ll be blinded by the sun when it cuts into the gaps between buildings as it sets.

he waltzes in on a random stormy saturday morning, dripping wet and protected only by the leather jacket he wears. your eyes trail him from the entrance to the register, meeting his gaze once as he passes by you. he even grants you a tiny shimmer of a smile, one side of his mouth quirking up as he ghosts by your table. it’s enough to have you bristling under your sweater and you have to drag your attention from his black leather-clad figure to your laptop, word document cursor blinking at you from an unfinished sentence in a paper for your criminal psychology class. 

no matter how much you try to refocus and make progress on this paper, you just can’t (thank god it’s not due for another three weeks). your mind is just far too preoccupied with the pretty boy you made eye contact with, mind whirling with questions about him: what’s his name? is he a student like you? what are his hobbies? lost in your thoughts, you almost jump out of your fucking skin when the chair across from you screeches against the tile floor and the very boy sits down at your table, an iced americano cradled in his hands. when you finally meet his eyes again, your granted a deeper smile and a name: jongseong, or jay, if you’re lucky (which you seem to be because you sit and talk for so long that your laptop dies… and you don’t care).

SIM JAEYUN is the brother of your best friend, so he’s always been distinctly off limits. she’d sworn you to that one night in the darkness of her bedroom after getting buzzed off of some wine she’d skimmed from her mom’s collection; or rather, she’d sworn you to be off limits from him. “i met you first, which means you’re my person, not his. you’re off limits, ‘kay? don’t let him get to you.” and you’d giggled and told her that you wouldn’t even look in his direction if it was that important to her.

but that was a couple years ago and you’re not high schoolers anymore. in fact, while she moved cities for university, you stayed home and ended up going to the same school as her brother, living in the same dorm and sharing a couple of gen ed classes with him during that first semester. with so much distance between you and your best friend, jake was the next best thing and you were spending an increasing amount of time with him. so how important was that promise you’d made when you were half-gone on dry wine?

you go on study dates at the library, he shows up at your dorm room with your favorite coffee order in hand when you’re having a rough day, he saves you a spot next to him in every class you share together. there are other little things he does that having you falling for him in a way that your friend forbid all those years ago, but you can’t stop yourself, not when you’re watching him run across the quad, an umbrella in hand, because it started pouring down rain during class and you’d forgotten to bring yours. if this is how he loves, then surely it’ll be worth it to break that promise.

PARK SUNGHOON was the one who got away. you were the star figure skating duo at your hometown rink, perfectly in sync and a beautiful couple on the ice. out of everyone you’d ever trained with, sunghoon was always the one you felt most comfortable with; your chemistry was undeniable, but it was the way he supported you on and off the ice that made him your favorite partner by far.

so of course you’d gone and fallen in love with him, just a naive teenager who was itching to have your first taste of romance. how fitting would it be to have sunghoon as your first love, seeing as so many of your performances were romantic in nature anyways? but then he’d told you one night after practice, sitting on the bleachers and taking your skates off, that he was quitting and moving away to chase a new dream and you’d sat there, staring at him, waiting for him to say that he was just kidding. when he leveled that icily serious stare of his at you, the gravity of it settled in deep and fast, and you’d stood up abruptly without a word and walked away stiffly, willing away tears, even as he called after you.

it was the last time you’d seen him.

you’re older now, more mature than you were a handful of years ago. you’re not a figure skater anymore, at least not professionally, but you coach young skaters five nights a week at a rink in the city, your new home, while you shoot for your bachelors in sports medicine.

it’s tuesday evening and you just waved goodbye to the last of your students a few minutes ago. as you’re cleaning up a few things from practice, you hear the door open and slam closed, echoing loudly. you start to make a joke about one of your students who always forgets something of theirs on the bleachers, but when you turn to face them, a much taller, much older park sunghoon stands before you, a pair of skates in hand. his shoulders are broad, waist just as slim as you remember, but he’s so much more handsome.

it’s been a while since you saw him last, but the soft lopsided smile he offers you awakens some old feelings. and you hope that maybe this time, they’ll stick.

[pedroscurls]

Always Been You (Part 3).

Character(s): no-outbreak!Joel Miller x fem!Reader, young!Sarah Miller (6 y/o) Summary: As your friendship with Joel grows, he decides that it's time for you to meet Sarah. Word count: 5,090 Author's Note: This chapter was so much to write. In the next few chapters, we will slowly begin to do a time jump (definitely want more of young!joel before moving on). Anyways, as always, please enjoy!🫶 Warning: None. SERIES MASTERLIST

“You know, for someone who’s just her friend, you spend quite a lot of time with her,” Tommy said, his focus on the road as he and Joel began making their way to your coffee shop for their usual pick-me-up in the middle of the day.

It had been a few months since Joel met you and while you had established a very firm boundary with your friendship with him, Joel found it difficult to keep his feelings for you at bay. He spent a lot of his time thinking about you, talking about you, and he was always counting down the next time he was going to see you. 

But Tommy was right. Joel did spend a lot of time with you and whenever he did have any time for himself, he spent it with you. As his friendship with you grew, Joel knew that he wanted you to meet Sarah. Not only because he wanted to finally combine both important relationships in his life, but also because he believed you would be a great female role model to his six-year-old daughter. 

In fact, Sarah already knew all about you. The following morning when Joel came home, Tommy had let it slip that he had spent the night with a mysterious woman, which piqued his little girl’s interest. Ever since then, Sarah asked about you all the time and Joel was always more than willing to share the small moments he got to spend with you. 

“She’s just a friend, Tommy,” Joel replied. 

“So, if I were to ask her–”

“Don’t even think about it,” Joel interrupted. “She ain’t ready to date and even if she was–”

“You’d be the first one in line,” Tommy winked. “I’m just teasin’ you, big brother. She’s good for you, you know? Could be good for Sarah too.”

“You think so?” Joel asked. 

“I mean, Sarah knows all about her and I’m sure you talk about Sarah with her too.”

“I do,” he nodded. “I just– I don’t usually bring around new people for Sarah to meet, you know? She’s my babygirl,” Joel said with a sigh. 

“What are you afraid of?” Tommy asked. “I haven’t seen you this happy in a while and if she’s just your friend… I can only imagine how you’d be if you two were together.” 

“I guess I just don’t want Sarah to get attached. All she’s ever known is you and me.” 

“Well, you know your girl more than I do, Joel. If she meets Sarah, how do you think it’d go?” 

Joel bit his lower lip. It was something he had imagined and dreamt about all the time, especially lately. He yearned to have you over for dinner, to show Sarah where you worked and how good you were at your job, but he also wanted to spend time with you and Sarah together. His fear of you eventually leaving after developing a bond with Sarah scared him though, and while he was sure that you wouldn’t ever leave his side (or Sarah’s), it was still a terrifying thought. For so long, it had only just been him, Sarah, and Tommy. He rarely brought women around her and Tommy was respectful enough to do the same. 

But Joel knew that Sarah was getting older. She was asking more and more questions about the lack of women presence in her life and he didn’t know what to do. It was wrong of him to think that you would be the person to be that for Sarah, but a part of him believed that you would slip into that role willingly. 

“I think it’d be great,” Joel admitted. “I just don’t want her to think I’m bringing her around Sarah so that she can become her mom or somethin’, y’know what I mean?” 

Tommy stopped at a stoplight and glanced over at Joel, arching a brow. “Ain’t nobody thinkin’ that but you.”

“But what if–”

“Joel,” Tommy chuckled. “You have a good judgment on character. If you’re still stickin’ around this woman, it must mean that she’s one helluva person.” 

“I just like bein’ around her,” Joel shrugged. 

“That’s it? Nothin’ else?” Tommy began driving once the light turned green, getting closer to your coffee shop. 

Joel bit his lower lip, looking out the window and seeing your coffee shop get nearer and nearer. He felt an excitement settle in the pit of his stomach and he sat up straighter, his hands fidgeting on his lap. 

“She just makes me feel good, Tommy. I don’t know how to explain it.”

Tommy pulled up to the curb and put the truck in park, glancing over at Joel. “Bet you’re regretting those two times she tried to kiss you, huh?”

Joel rolled his eyes. “She was drunk and I ain’t the type of guy to take advantage like that.”

“Good point,” Tommy nodded. “But I bet you’ve been thinkin’ about it ever since, haven’t you?” 

Joel gently shoved him before he climbed out. “Oh, shut up. Let’s get our coffee.” 

Tommy smiled to himself and watched Joel step inside the cozy coffee shop and when he saw you sitting in the corner with several papers in front of you, he noticed Joel straighten up and run a hand through his hair before stepping up to you. 

“The usual, Joel?” Tommy called out. 

“Yeah, the usual.” 

Tommy walked to the register while Joel walked over to you. When you heard his voice, you looked up and smiled to yourself, standing up to pull him into a hug. 

“You’re always on time,” you smiled. 

Joel always loved when you pulled him into a hug first. He loved the way you curled against him, your cheek resting against his chest and your arms coming to wrap around his midsection. He smiled to himself and wrapped his arms around your waist to return the embrace, letting the seconds pass all too quickly. 

“I don’t like bein’ late,” Joel replied, pulling away from you. 

“I’ve noticed,” you laughed, taking your seat and motioning for him to sit next to you. You watched him take a seat, noticing how he was looking over the papers that were on the table. 

The pain and heartbreak you felt months ago were not as strong as they were now, but you still had your moments, but they weren’t as intense as they were when you first met Joel. You liked to believe that Joel helped you slowly get over your ex-boyfriend, but the feeling he gave you every time you talked to him or spent time with him was something that you tried so hard to ignore. You had told him that you weren’t ready to date or even get into a relationship–and it was true– but having Joel as just a friend when you thought that it could eventually be more, lingered in your mind and occupied your thoughts. 

“You’re always workin’,” he commented.

“Well, I do have a business to run,” you replied, gently nudging him with your shoulder. “You should know this. I know you and Tommy are trying to open up your construction business. Even after working hours, you’re still working.”

“Oh great, somethin’ to look forward to,” he teased, rolling his eyes. 

“How is that going, by the way?” 

Joel shrugged. “It’s hard, but I think we’re makin’ some progress.” He looked up to see Tommy talking with the cashier and she was obviously blushing from whatever Tommy had said. Joel had to chuckle to himself; he and Tommy were complete polar opposites. Tommy liked the attention, enjoyed the thrill of talking to women whereas Joel liked to keep to himself, very careful in who he wanted to talk with or let in to get a glimpse of his life. Even before Sarah, Joel had always been the more serious type. 

“You know, if you ever need any help, I’d be happy to–”

Joel interrupted. “I know, but I think we’ll be okay.”

“Stubborn,” you replied. “You’re stubborn.”

“And you ain’t?” Joel grinned.

You narrowed your eyes up at him, biting your lower lip as the side of your legs were flush against his. You noticed that you were just mere inches from him, but this was normal. To any outsider, you were sure that they would assume you and Joel were together, but you had established that you weren’t ready and that you wanted to focus solely on yourself. 

“I’m not,” you said.

“Liar,” he winked. 

“You’re calling me stubborn and a liar?” you said with a gasp, looking deeply into Joel’s deep brown eyes. “You do know that I am the owner of this coffee shop…”

“You gonna kick me out?” Joel teased, leaning closer to you. 

“Don’t tempt me,” you giggled. 

Joel chuckled and bit his lower lip, using his free hand to rub at the back of his neck. “I have somethin’ to ask you and don’t feel obligated to say yes or anythin’, but…”

You tilted your head, furrowing a brow. “What is it?” 

“Would you like to meet Sarah? It’s just–”

Your eyes widened and Joel felt the nerves settle when he saw you grin with excitement. “What? Of course. I would love to meet your little girl, Joel!” 

“Wait, really?” 

“Yes,” you smiled. “Why are you so surprised?” 

Joel shrugged, letting a quiet sigh of relief as he smiled over in your direction. “I don’t know. Guess I just got used to the women I meet not usually being comfortable with the idea of me being a young father and–”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh please. I thought we established that you were attracting the wrong kind of people.”

“Fair point,” he chuckled. “So, you would be okay with it?”

“I’d be honored, Joel. It’s obvious she’s important to you and you seem like a great dad and if you want me to meet her, well, that must mean I’m pretty special,” you winked, only teasing just a bit, but you knew that meeting Sarah was a big deal. Not only to him, but to you as well. 

“Well, you are,” Joel smiled. “Special, I mean. You’re special.” 

“You flirting with me?” you blushed. 

“That depends,” he chuckled. “You gonna flirt back?” 

Just as you were going to respond, Tommy approached the table and set down both cups of coffee, deciding to sit across from you. 

“Hey,” Tommy smiled. 

“Hi, Tommy. How’s the coffee?” you replied with a smile, turning your attention away from Joel and towards the younger Miller brother. 

“The best as always,” he winked. 

Joel let out a sigh to himself. It was just his luck that the timing was never on his side because whenever you both were so close to crossing that line, something (or someone) would break you both out of that trance. 

“Thanks, Tommy,” Joel said, taking his cup of coffee and lifting it to his lips. “Yeah, the absolute best.”

“At this rate, I should probably make two new drinks and name it after the both of you.”

Tommy smiled. “That would be awesome! Would you really do that?” 

You nodded. “How about one of these weekends, you both come on by and we can perfect the recipe?” Then, you looked over at Joel and smiled. “I’m sure Sarah would love to come too. We can make some cookies.”

Joel smiled in your direction. You hadn’t even met Sarah yet and here you were, already including her in plans. It made his heart swell and the warm feeling settled in the pit of his stomach (like always whenever he was around you). 

“I think she’d love that, darlin’.” 

Tommy sipped at his coffee, staring between the both of you with a knowing grin. “You know, tonight’s taco night. You should come by for dinner.” 

Your eyebrows shot up and then you looked over at Joel. “Oh, I do love tacos…”

Joel bit the inside of his cheek. “Tommy…” 

“What? Ain’t no harm in inviting her to dinner.”

Joel shook his head. “You don’t have to–”

“I’d love to come to dinner, Joel.” You interrupted, reaching out to rest a hand on his forearm.

Joel looked down at your hand, the feeling of your fingertips on his skin left an electrifying feeling that radiated throughout his entire body. “If you’re fine with the last minute dinner plan and if you ain’t doin’ anythin’ tonight, we’d love to have you over.” 

“Then I’ll be there.” 

Tommy grinned. “Great, let’s say seven?” 

“Seven’s perfect. Should I bring anything?”

“Just yourself,” Joel answered. 

You smiled and nodded. “Then, I’ll see you both and Sarah,” you said with a wink in Joel’s direction. “Tonight.” 

Tommy and Joel stood from the table and you followed, leaning over to give Tommy a one-armed hug before you turned your attention to Joel to wrap both of your arms around him. Joel immediately held you with both of his arms, feeling extremely excited and extremely nervous about tonight.

“I’ll see you tonight, darlin’.” 

You pulled away and nodded up at him. “I’ll see you both then. Bye, Tommy. Make sure this one doesn’t work too hard.”

Tommy smiled, playfully saluting in your direction. “Yes, ma’am.” 

Both Joel and Tommy turned on their heels, leaving the coffee shop to walk back towards their truck. Once outside, Joel gently punched Tommy’s arm, shaking his head.

“What?” he said, running a hand over his arm. “I was just tryin’ to help.”

“I had it under control,” Joel grumbled.

“You know, a thank you would be nice…”

Joel narrowed his eyes. “Thanks, Tommy.” 

“Anything for you, big brother.” 

—

“So, she’s really coming, daddy?” Sarah said, standing on her toes to watch Joel cook the meat on the stovetop. 

Joel looked down at her and smiled, picking her up and letting her rest on his hip while his free hand stirred the meat on the pan so that it would continue to brown. “She is, babygirl.” 

Sarah grinned, resting her cheek on Joel’s shoulder as she snuggled closer to him. “Do you think she’ll like me?” 

“I think she’ll love ya, honey.” 

“Should I go draw her a picture?” Sarah smiled, her eyes lighting up with excitement. 

“You know,” Joel smiled, turning his head to place a soft kiss on the crown of Sarah’s head. “I think that’s a great idea, babygirl, but can you go wash up before you do that?”

She pouted. “But why?” 

“Because,” he chuckled. “Daddy said so and because you’re a bit stinky.”

Sarah widened her eyes and gasped, looking down at herself before she wrapped her arms around Joel’s neck, giving him kisses. “Then that means you’re stinky too!” 

Joel chuckled, turning the stove off and gently tickling Sarah’s side, hearing her laughter and giggles filter the kitchen. “You’re sneaky.” 

Sarah giggled, trying to push away from her father’s tickles. Joel smiled to himself, giving her a gentle kiss before he set her down on her feet. “Go and get ready, babygirl. I still gotta finish dinner.” 

“Okay,” Sarah sighed. “If I must.” 

“Are you sure you’re six?” Joel teased.

“Almost seven!” Sarah smiled, walking out of the kitchen and towards her bedroom. 

Joel smiled to himself; while he wasn’t planning to be a father at such a young age, he wouldn’t trade it for the world. He loved being a dad, especially to Sarah. She had the better parts of him and he loved watching her accomplish all the big milestones: taking her first step, saying her first words, bringing her to school for the first time… She was growing faster than he liked, but she had always been a daddy’s little girl. They were always attached to the hip and there was a part of him that was afraid of how the dynamic would eventually change when Joel decided that he wanted to settle down. 

But then his mind drifted to you. He knew that it would come easy, slowly bringing you further into his life and having you meet Sarah would be the first step. 

Once Joel finished cooking and setting the table, he received a phone call from Tommy, letting him know that he wasn’t going to make it. He knew what his younger brother was doing, but he was too excited and nervous (at the same time) to question it. 

“All finished, Sarah?” Joel called out, walking towards Sarah’s bedroom. He stepped inside to see her curly hair completely wet and droplets of water dripping on the carpet floor. 

“All finished, daddy.” She was sitting at her small desk with a crayon in hand as she looked completely focused on the drawing. 

“Your hair, babygirl,” Joel said. He grabbed the towel that she threw on her bed and walked over to stand behind her, gently drying her hair. “You’re making your floor all wet.”

“Sorry, daddy,” Sarah said, flashing him a small grin. “I’m just too excited. Wanna see what I’m making for her?” 

“Yeah, let’s take a look.” Joel said, looking over Sarah’s shoulder. 

She looked up at him and held up the piece of a paper with a proud look on her face. Sarah had drawn a picture of you holding a cup of coffee. “I’m not finished yet, but do you like it?”

Joel smiled. “That looks amazing, baby.” He leaned down and kissed her forehead. “She’s gonna love it.” 

Sarah smiled, looking up at him with a sense of accomplishment. “Okay, you need to go and get ready,��� she giggled. “Because you’re stinky.”

Joel chuckled, poking her side which resulted in a fit of giggles. “I’m stinky because of you.” He stood back up and looked down at her, watching Sarah go back to drawing and coloring. “I’ll be quick, babygirl.” 

“Okay, daddy. I’ll be here.” 

—

You were on your way to Joel’s house for the first time. You were nervous to meet Sarah, hoping that she would like you. Joel always talked about her and you knew how important she was to him; you wanted to make a good impression. It was obvious that Joel didn’t usually bring new people around Sarah and the fact that he wanted you to meet her meant a lot. 

Joel meant a lot to you. 

You weren’t sure how you had gotten through these last few months without him. He empowered you, always reminding you that you didn’t need Robert, that you deserved better, that a better person would come along when you were ready. The attraction and the possibility of what could be always lingered whenever you both spent time with each other. 

Joel had the ability to make you smile or laugh whenever you were having a bad day; he knew exactly what to do when you needed a pick-me-up, someone to hold you when you cried, and someone to listen to you when you voiced your insecurities. Joel was always there, like he said he would be after the night you met. 

Thinking about Robert still pained you, still brought a wave of emotions that left you a crying mess, but Joel was always there to pick up the pieces. 

Joel was always there to wipe your tears away and pull you into his arms. 

It had been the safest you felt in a very long time. 

About twenty minutes later, you climbed out of the cab and looked up at Joel’s house. It was on a culdesac, the driveway being occupied by his truck. The grass on his lawn was green and looked as if it had just been mowed, but as you stepped closer to the door, you felt the nerves settle within you. You had brought about two dozen homemade cookies and a tub of vanilla ice cream; it was your favorite dessert and you wanted to share it with Sarah. 

Plus, you also didn’t want to go to dinner empty handed. 

Finally bringing yourself up to ring the doorbell, you heard several muffled voices from behind the front door. A few seconds later, Joel opened the door, hair slightly damp, dark navy blue shirt wrinkled but tight around his arms paired with jeans, and he was barefoot. He grinned in your direction before you heard a small girl’s voice and the sound of her footsteps from behind him.

“Daddy! Is that her?” 

You couldn’t help but smile, looking past Joel’s shoulder to see Sarah in all her beauty. She was wearing a light purple t-shirt with a butterfly on it and some shorts, but what made your heart swell was the glimmer in her eyes when she looked at her dad, her thick and bouncy curls, and a smile with dimples. 

“Hey, come on in,” Joel said, helping you inside before calling out over his shoulder. “Yes, babygirl, it’s her. Come here and say hi.” 

Sarah came running towards the both of you, holding a piece of paper in both of her tiny hands. Once Joel shut the door, she looked up at you with a wide grin. 

“It’s you,” she giggled. 

“It’s me. Hi there,” you smiled, kneeling down to get to her eye level. “You must be Sarah.” 

She nodded excitedly and said your name, using her free hand to wrap around Joel’s leg. “Daddy talks a lot about you.”

“Oh, he does, does he?” you smiled, glancing up at Joel who was staring at you with a smile. “He talks a lot about you too.” 

“He does?!” Sarah smiled, looking up at her dad. “That’s nice.” 

You let out a quiet laugh and saw her eyes drift to your plate of cookies and the tub of ice cream. Joel caught on as well and scooped Sarah into his arms, making you stand up. 

“Dinner first, Sarah.”

“But she has cookies… And ice cream,” Sarah said with a pout. 

“It’s my favorite dessert,” you said. “I like to make my own ice cream sandwich.” 

Sarah’s eyes widened and looked between you and Joel. “Can we have dessert first?” 

Joel chuckled, shaking his head. “No, baby. Tacos first then dessert.” 

Sarah sighed and then looked over at you, slowly sticking her hand out. You noticed that she was holding a piece of paper and you gently took it from her, looking down at it with a big smile. 

“I drew you a picture,” she said. “Daddy says you like coffee, like him.”

“This is amazing, Sarah. I think I’m gonna put it up in my coffee shop. Front and center for everyone to see.” 

“Really?” she smiled, hope in her eyes. 

“Oh, of course,” you winked. 

Joel couldn’t help but watch you interact with Sarah; it was so natural, so easy, and didn’t feel forced at all. The same feeling that he had been experiencing whenever he was with you settled in the pit of his stomach once more, causing butterflies to flutter as he bit his lower lip to hold back the big grin that was spreading along his lips. He knew you weren’t ready to get into a relationship, to date, and your focus had been solely on loving yourself again and while Joel supported you in your journey, he couldn’t help but wonder and dream about what this could be when you were ready. 

“You’ve got such a cozy place, Joel,” you said, pulling him out of his thoughts. 

Joel smiled, one arm hooked underneath Sarah as he used his free hand to rest on your lower back, leading you towards the dining room. “Thanks, darlin’. I’ll give you a tour later.” 

“Wow, dinner and a tour? I feel special.”

Joel chuckled. “I thought we established that you already are special.”

You blushed, looking up at him. However, before you could say anything, Sarah interrupted and smiled over at you. “Daddy makes the best tacos.” 

“I love tacos,” you smiled. “So I’m excited.” 

“Can you sit next to me when we eat?” Sarah asked. 

“Of course. I’d be happy to.” 

Sarah grinned and Joel set her down on her feet. She walked over to the dining table and pulled herself up onto a chair, pointing to the one next to her. You glanced over at Joel for a silent permission and he nodded. You handed him the cookies and ice cream, watching him disappear for a moment to put the ice cream in the freezer and the cookies on the counter. 

You sat next to Sarah and looked down at her with a smile, the aroma of food invading your senses and your stomach beginning to growl. Sarah giggled, looking up at you. 

“Your tummy is hungry.” 

“I know,” you pouted playfully. “I got a little monster in there.” 

“Sometimes, I get little monsters too,” she laughed. 

“I’m glad I’m not the only one then,” you winked. “So, your daddy tells me you’re six?” 

“Almost seven,” she corrected.

“Oh, my apologies. Almost seven,” you laughed. “What do you have planned for your birthday?” 

Sarah looked up in thought, her legs dangling from the seat. “I think daddy’s gonna take me to the fair.” 

“That sounds like it’ll be fun,” you smiled. “Play some games, eat some junk food,” you teased. 

“You should come!” 

“Oh–” 

Joel walked back into the dining room, catching the tail end of the conversation as he sat across from you and Sarah. “Sarah,” he began. “She might be busy, baby. It’s okay–”

“I can make time,” you interrupted. 

Sarah grinned excitedly. “Really?”

Joel bit his lower lip. “Darlin’, you don’t–”

“I’d love to go, Joel. Besides, it’s Sarah’s birthday, right? She can decide who she wants to invite,” you winked over at her. 

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. “I can decide, daddy.” 

Joel chuckled, raising his hands in the air. “Okay, okay. I’ll let you know the details then, darlin’.”

You smiled, nodding in his direction as you saw Joel begin to serve Sarah’s plate. You watched him carefully, feeling your heart skip a beat at the sight of him. He was such a good dad and now being able to see it firsthand just made the lingering thoughts and feelings you had for him more intense. 

But you still had to keep reminding yourself that you weren’t ready yet, no matter how much you found yourself wanting nothing more than to be with Joel.

“Thank you, daddy,” Sarah grinned, sitting closer to the table to begin eating. 

Joel grabbed your plate, almost like second nature to him, as he began putting the food onto it for you. He had stopped midway to look up at you, finding that you were staring at him.

“Shoot, I’m sorry, darlin’. I’m just so used to–”

You stopped him with a gentle hand on his forearm, looking at him with a small smile. “It’s okay, Joel. I’m usually the one preparing people’s plates for them so this is a nice change of pace.”

Joel bit his lower lip. There were some things you said that he couldn’t believe; how could the people you called friends (and even partners) not treat you like the queen you were? While you both weren’t together, Joel always made sure you were taken care of, making sure to open the doors for you, always considerate of your feelings, and he just had to wonder what type of friends (and men) you were attracting. 

“Well, not here,” Joel said. “You cater to too many people, darlin’. At least let me do that for you,” he smiled. 

“You’re too good to me,” you blushed. “But thank you, Joel. I appreciate it. I appreciate you.” 

He set your plate down in front of you and began preparing his plate. After a few minutes, the three of you began to eat, hearing Sarah’s mumbling of approval that her daddy’s tacos are the best and you couldn’t help but wonder and imagine that this was something you could get used to. 

Halfway into dinner, Tommy walked into the house, making his way towards the dining table. 

“Sorry, I’m late,” Tommy said, sitting next to Joel. 

“Date cut short?” Joel teased. 

Tommy shrugged, rolling his eyes. “I’d rather not talk about it.” Then, he looked up at you, watching as you and Sarah were speaking amongst one another and he glanced at Joel with a knowing grin. He leaned over to him and whispered, “So… Looks like you’ve been havin’ a good time.”

Joel shook his head, gently shoving his brother. “Stop it. Not now.” 

“Want me to take care of Sarah for the rest of the night while you and–”

“Tommy,” he warned, a pink hue coming up across Joel’s cheeks. 

“Okay, okay. Just a friend,” he winked. “Right.”

You looked up at Tommy and smiled in his direction, giving you a nod as he began to eat. 

“Daddy, can we have dessert and sit outside in the backyard?” Sarah asked, her plate completely clean as she was leaning against you, her arm hooked around yours. 

Joel chuckled, looking over at you and back at his daughter. “How about we let Uncle Tommy finish eating and we can all head out there?” 

“Oh,” Sarah said. “I meant… If me and her can go outside while you boys stay in here.” 

You let out a quiet laugh, looking up at Joel for a moment and noticing the surprised look in his eyes. Joel knew how friendly and welcoming his daughter was, but this… Sarah was already fond of you and you had only been here for a little over an hour. 

“You know what,” Joel began. “I think that’ll be okay. Uncle Tommy can help me clean up,” he said, resting a hand on his younger brother’s shoulder to give a firm squeeze. “Ain’t that right, Tommy?” 

Tommy swallowed the contents in his mouth and nodded, looking up at Joel and turning his attention back at Sarah and back at you. “That’s right. You girls go and have fun.” 

“I can always help clean up and–” you began. 

Joel interrupted you immediately. “Nope, we got it, darlin’.”

Sarah hopped off her chair and extended her tiny hand out for you. You bit your lower lip and stood up, taking her hand. “Lead the way, Sarah.” 

Sarah grinned and led you into the kitchen. You grabbed the plate of cookies and the vanilla ice cream as she grabbed a big spoon. Then, she led you towards the backyard, skipping excitedly a few steps in front of you.

Once you and Sarah were outside, Tommy looked over at Joel and let out a laugh. “You’re in trouble, ain’t ya?” 

Joel sighed, running a hand over his face. “I think so.”

—

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