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super-btstrash-posts · 2 years ago

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This had me giggling and kicking my feet like a school girl with a crush 😭😭😭 it’s so cute

so I love your work, I love how you write joe and yeah amazing honestly but I kid you not “Sunshine Blend Dark Roast” has got me kicking my feet and giggling like a little school girl🥺😂

me too! shit! and im the one writing it, gosh, what an experience! here's the last part, i hope it lives up to everyone's expectations! Wordcount: 3.2K ---

Sunshine Blend Dark Roast

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Joe was there at 3, just like he said he was going to be and even after your shift, you were all energy. All bouncy. All ready to go be around Joe for a little while, because this was exciting.

“Where do you want to go?” you asked, stepping out, knowing being outside with Joe was risky. You weren’t stupid. But then, as you fell into step together, Joe suggested Starbucks, albeit as a joke, and you huffed a laugh. Yea, not a chance, you big dumb idiot. “People will see us there,” you said, and you frowned in thought. It threw Joe for a loop a little because, yes, exactly. People would see you there. Was that not what you wanted? Be seen out with him?

“You know what,” you stopped walking. “I can do a fantastic pour over for us at my place,” you narrowed your eyes, seemed to think something over, then looked at Joe, smiled, and said, “This way,” and turned on your heel with a hop.

It took Joe a second to mentally adjust to what was happening.

You were walking Joe over to your place. Your flat, house, whatever. Your home. It was so forward, and so direct, Joe’s brain couldn’t really catch up quick enough with the reality of the situation he had suddenly found himself in. It made him follow you like a lost puppy since you were clearly in charge of the situation. You wanted something from Joe. He just hadn’t expected it to be this and for you to be so casual about it all.

Okay.

Yes.

He’d be willing to give.

You were gorgeous, and sure, terrifying, but it was the fun kind of scary, and although he always felt like he was one step behind, not fully in on the joke, he followed your lead blindly. You wanted something from Joe, and Joe decided on the doorstep of your home, that he was going to give it to you.

Stepping inside, you immediately apologized.

“Sorry, I forgot about the– okay, so you know how sometimes, you take a hot mug of tea to bed? I did that, yesterday, mug in one hand, phone in the other,” you yapped away as you shrugged off your coat and threw it over a chair.

“And usually,” you stepped into the kitchen where you started rummaging through cabinets. “I throw my phone onto my bed, and then carefully set the mug down on my bedside table, but this time,” you turned to see Joe stand in the middle of your flat, gaze trained at your sofa.

“I flung the full mug of tea at my bed and only realised what I’d done when I carefully placed my phone down on my bedside table.”

You smacked your hand to your own forehead before tipping beans into a coffee grinder.

You’d slept on the sofa that night and hadn’t bothered tidying up after yourself. Your duvet, pillows, and even your fumbled up pyjamas all made a big intimate mess of your living room.

Joe just stared at it until he let a small grin take over. A girl had never so readily shown him her bed before. Temporary or not. This was where you slept.

Joe knew what you wanted. And he was going to hand it right over.

Joe joined you in the kitchen, leant against the counter and watched you make coffee with a smug smile playing on his face. It took you much longer than it did at the coffee shop, but you seemed even more into it, and Joe stared at your expert movements through half-lidded eyes as you rambled through more stories.

Joe wouldn’t have gotten a word in edgeways. Not that he tried, anyway. There was something about having you absolutely steamroll him with information, all chaotically in your verbal communication whilst your hands seemed all steady, muscle memory working hard, crafting perfect cups of coffee for the two of you.

When you finished, you turned to Joe with two cups in hand, and Joe knew this was his chance.

You’d stopped talking, looked at him all expectantly, and Joe found the courage to just, go for it.

He stepped forward, let his hands find your hips and grinned at you as he got closer.

You didn’t smile back.

Joe leant in for a kiss, his movements fast.

But you leant back as well. Moved away just as quick. Nearly spilled the coffee, didn’t speak, but your face read pure fear as you stared at Joe, who still had his hands in an inappropriate place on your body.

Then it dawned on him, and it burned him up from the inside out.

It landed like a gut punch.

Pure knocked Joe’s breath straight out of his lungs.

A grand misstep.

Way worse than all the prior ones. Combined.

Humiliated and horrified.

Oh no.

What the fuck did Joe think he was doing? The complete doom that overtook him shattered everything he’d believed to be true up until this point. The voice in his head was screaming, top of its lungs, deafening horrid sounds that made Joe want to actually vanish.

Joe’d missed the last step of the long winding staircase again, but this step was reflective, bright orange, had been so difficult to be missed. But he missed it. Totally missed it. And he could run all he’d like, big steps, in a bid to save himself, but there was no way his knees weren’t going to meet the floor and scrape themselves bloody.

This was a misstep that could scar. Leave real marks, Joe knew. It was the worst thing Joe had ever done and he plummeted right into thick, sticky anxiety.

You watched Joe take stiff, robotic steps over to your sofa and sit down on top of your duvet, head in his hands, absolutely shitting bricks. He was muttering to himself, rocking slightly, talking himself through what appeared to be an active panic attack.

You looked at the coffee cups in your hands. You were fine. That was just a weird move. You were just meant to be having a coffee together. Your mind flooded with things to say, jokes to make, ill-timed and harshly worded, but Joe didn't need putting in place. Joe needed help, and you looked at the coffees in your hands and thought of what you could do to help.

“Do you... do you want some whisky in yours? I think I have some,” you placed the coffees back down and opened a cabinet. “Oh, I don’t. I’ve got baileys. Would you like some baileys in your coffee?”

You turned to look at Joe. Still rocking. Still muttering.

“Joe?”

Joe snapped to look at you, but didn’t say anything.

Joe was about to break.

“Yea, all right. He looks like he needs it,” you said to no one. “I’m just going to go ahead and...” you poured in some baileys. Then, also in your own cup, to not make it weird. You looked over your shoulder at him. “Little more,” and gave Joe’s cup another healthy splash of liquor. Oof, that was definitely too much.

How to navigate Joe Quinn, sat on your sofa, which was also now your bed for the time being, going through a panic attack because you didn’t kiss him back? Safe to say this was a situation you never thought you’d find yourself in. But here you were. And alcohol seemed like a reasonable solution, no?

You sat down next to Joe, curled a leg under your bum to sit on and placed Joe’s coffee on the table in front of him.

He then turned to you, not making eye contact, and he was shaking. Because he hadn't just tried to kiss you, had he? He was going to go in for more, wasn't he?

Joe was reeling. Dizzy with all of it. He didn't know why his eyes were wet, but he knew he had questions.

“You don’t want to… I mean, wait… but, you don’t?”

You did. You did. But this wasn’t how people went about things, was it? Not how you had ever gone about things, at least, and just because this was Joseph mother fucking Quinn pressing his body up against yours in your kitchen, didn’t mean you were going to go about things in this way right now. You’d never even properly talked with him, had you?

You weren’t going to be that easy.

Weren't going to let it all pop, only to let it all fizzle out way too fast.

You weren't disposable.

But, yes, you did want to.

You wanted him to make you see full galaxies, the ones that lived behind your eyes. You wanted him to crowd all your senses. You wanted his arms around your waist, and his eyes so close to yours that your eyelashes would tangle when you blinked. You wanted that mouth on yours, softly, because look at how plush his lips were. But then also roughly, because this man gave you cute aggression and you needed to squeeze him until his skin broke and all his bloody guts spilled out. Kiss him until you were both bleeding from your mouths.

But you also wanted to hold and protect, because Joe looked broken a little, pained inside in dark places you didn’t know how to reach and it was an unknown mixture that didn’t seem to want to emulsify and gel properly within you.

Fuck and caress.

Hurt and comfort.

Smack him across the face, because what the fuck, Joe, but then also hug him so very tightly, whisper that it was okay and that you had him.

You did want Joe to kiss and to touch and to hold. You did. But not right here right now, you didn’t. You just wanted to have a coffee with him, so you shook your head and couldn’t help the little smile as you scrunched up your brows at him. Joe looked so lost, it was a little endearing.

“What do you want?” Joe didn’t get it. Never understood. Couldn’t even begin to understand.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, all casual, like Joe hadn’t just died and traveled to hell and back right in front of your eyes.

“I like playing. See you go all shy. Give you compliments to see your ears go red,” you confessed. It didn’t help. Joe just stared at you; blank faced. You tried to see cogwheels turn, but Joe gave you nothing. So then you suggested, “Maybe we can hold hands later.” and it made Joe turn his head away from you slowly to stare into nothingness for a moment.

It gave you a moment to taste your coffee. Ooh, yes, that was definitely too much baileys in there. You looked at Joe’s cup – that was going to be undrinkable, surely.

“Hold hands?” he then sputtered. So confused. Almost grossed out by the looks of him, as if it was a preposterous thing to suggest.

“Yea, holding hands could be nice, couldn’t it?” you shrugged again, smiled thinking of it. Holding hands with Joe would be nice. You were kind of right. The voice of reason resided within you, you concluded.

“Why?” he spoke on an exhale.

What a question. Joe was really going through it.

“Pffft... I don’t know, why do people ever hold hands?”

You thought you’d gotten him a little out of his brain there for a moment, but he slumped right back in. This time you could see how his eyes darted around the room. Cogwheels inside definitely turning. Gaining up speed too, by the looks of it. His breathing steadied slightly, and you thought, okay good, Joe was coming back around.

And he was.

Because then he turned back to you, and offered you his hand.

Holding hands would be kind of nice, Joe agreed. The simple kind of nice he hadn't known had been missing from his life for a while now.

You looked at his hand for a moment, then scrunched your nose as you made eye contact with him. He still looked a little ashen, and you knew he was still spaced out, all floaty, locked up in his head somewhere. But, you could coax him out. You knew exactly how.

“Are you sure?” you teased, a little unsure if Joe was going to be able to handle your play.

“Yes,” Joe said, his lips threateningly close to smiling.

You got him.

“Just checking,” you said, as you took it, fingers interlacing. “I love a man who’s sure.”

Did you end the date all awkward? Yes.

It was a quick goodbye at your door, a strange hug that didn't really even count as a hug, you thought. It also lasted too long. Made it even weirder.

Did Joe promise he'd see you again the next day? Also yes.

He said he'd come in to get a coffee, promised it, two hands wrapped around one of yours as he said it, like he thought you'd absolutely die if he wouldn't.

Did you tell him, "Relax, you big weirdo"? No, but you sure as hell thought it.

Little Joey seemed far too fragile to take any more of your dumb shit yesterday, so telling him he was a weirdo didn't feel right. But today, as he walked in, he seemed... comfortable. At peace, a little. No tensed shoulders. No tight lipped smile. Maybe Joe had read your mind when you mentally told him to relax, because clearly, he'd listened.

"Good morning, what can I get you?" customer service voice, a chipper tone you'd never used on Joe before.

Joe stared up at the menu behind you, like a real customer would do.

"You know what, I think I'll have a large cappuccino,"

It took you a moment, but your smile was already there, tugging up the sides of your mouth because you didn't think Joe would ever surprise you. Not like this.

"Are you sure?" you barely got it out of your mouth, it sounded all strained and made Joe smile before he answered, "No."

And you laughed. Spilled all of your butterflies right out of your stomach within your laughter, right onto the counter, where everyone got to see.

"So adventurous!" you quipped as you reached for a cup. "I love an adventurous man,"

Now it was Joe's turn to laugh, and he shook his head. You had an answer for fucking everything, hadn't you?

Then, it was all giddy excitement.

You smiled at the man you were absolutely gone for, cup in hand, sharpie in the other, and had the audacity to ask for his name.

"Joe."

You couldn't fucking believe it. Your eyes turned into love hearts at Joe's stupid smirk and no one else existed for a moment. It was just you and Joe in the coffee shop and it was all pink, and all fuzzy. Joe just gave you his real name and let you win the game.

You loved playing games, and you always played to win.

Making a cappuccino never took this much time. You spent way too long on it, wanted to make sure you did it real good for him, not make him regret straying from his safe space, where he was comfortable, where he has the boring usual. It was just a regular cappuccino, but, it wasn't. It was much more than that.

When you finished and slapped the lid on, Joe was there at the end of the counter, waiting, like he always was, and where you always found the time to play. You held out the drink to Joe, and Joe moved to take it, but then, like last night, you moved back. Out of his reach. For a fraction of a second, Joe's face fell, but your grin saved it.

"You want this?"

And they were words of magic, because Joe then, for the first time in months, dared to think of what he wanted.

"I do,"

"Then come get it," and you bent your full body over the counter, leant onto your elbow, but held your other hand back, outstretched all the way, the cappuccino far behind you. It meant Joe had to get closer to reach. Way closer, until he was close enough to kiss.

"You want this?" You whispered, but still smiling, and you could feel in your bones just exactly how much Joe wanted it. Joe's feet found the last step of the large winding staircase safely this time. Knees unscathed. All guilt washed away as your lips found each other, and you kissed.

Joe wasn't the one who closed the distance between you, that was you, but Joe was the one who decided he could wrap hands around your neck, strong fingers around your jaw with thumbs across your cheeks. Joe wasn't the one who let your kiss grow deeper, that was you, but Joe was the one who licked his tongue across your lips, even though your mouth was already open to begin with.

You kissed until you wanted to climb over the counter, and Joe's head was spinning. Absolutely gone for each other. This is what Joe wanted, and the sheer realisation of it filled Joe all the way up the brim with strength. Self-confidence. Force. Energy. The want to play. It filled Joe up with all this good, so much, you felt it drip into your own mouth, and it made you smile. It made you smile hard, until it made you laugh and Joe couldn't hold back his own throaty giggles anymore as you finally broke away from him.

Joe was blushing like you'd never seen a man blush before. Neck, cheeks, ears; all rosy red and blotchy and cute, oh so fucking god damn adorable, lips all shiny, you could hardly stand it.

Joe reached for the cappuccino you'd forgotten about, were about to drop if you hadn't been reminded of it, and said, "bye," real close to your face, making you hold in a squeal. And Joe could tell. Just made his grin grow even wider as he was about to step out.

"See you tomorrow, idiot!" you shouted after him before he did.

And outside, Joe saw.

For the first time in months, you'd not written Joe on his cup. Joe gave you his real name. For the first time, his real name! Gave it to you, for you to write it down on his cup, and then, you hadn't.

Joe sighed. Smiled. Shook his head and moved his cup so his hand covered the word "idiot" you'd written in all caps, because other people wouldn't understand, and took another sip.

Actually, this cappuccino wasn't all that bad.

Maybe he'd try something different again tomorrow.

He wasn't sure, and wasn't that beautiful?

He'd see where this adventure would take him. Walls down, voice silenced, darkness aside and sweet golden sunbeams cascading down. Maybe he'd focus solely on what he wanted.

What did Joe want?

Joe knew.

Joe wanted to wear sunglasses and stare straight into the sun for hours. Joe wanted to risk going blind, because it was all play, and it seemed so fun. Joe wanted to leave the dishes for a moment, because he was going to nail this essay, he just knew it. Top marks, he was so sure.

Joe knew what he wanted. Knew what he liked. Knew exactly what he craved more of.

It was scary. But it was so fun. And it was all you.

---

The Taglisted:

@ghostinthebackofyourhead @dirtyeddietini @kiwisa @jasminearondottir @josephquinned @cancankiki @sidthedollface2 @dylanmunson @munsonsgirl71 @alana4610 @emmamooney @xomunson @sadbitchfangirl @thatonefan-girl @paola-carter @eddiemunsonfuxks @figmentofquinn @haylaansmi @thewondernanazombie @munsonmunster @kellysimagines @mybffjoe @harrys-tittie @chaoticgood-munson @jenisnotlost @sherrylyn628 @bdpst-massacre @xeddiesbattattsx @05secondsofsexgods @lovelyblueness @adoreyouusugar @nadixq @prozacandnicotine @munsonswhore86 @alwayslindie @thefemininemystiquee @hauntingbastille @eddie-joe-munson @ali-in-w0nderland @pepperstories @phyllosilicate-s @thebellenouvelle @luvrsbian @joesquinns @choke-me-joey @alizztor @thelostmoonofpooosh @did-it-work @capricornrisingsstuff - (tag list currently full)

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