#until customers come in but that never lasts more than two minutes

[waitimcomingtoo]

Sugar And Spice

Pairing: Peeta Mellark x reader

Synopsis: Peeta gets jealous when a guy keeps coming into the bakery to flirt with you

Masterlist

“Can you watch the bakery for a second while I frost a cake?”

“I can do it but I have to warn you. I’m super charming so we’re probably gonna get a bunch of customers and sell out immediately.” You said and held up your hands in defense. Peeta couldn’t help but smile as he watched you tie an apron around your waist. Something about you wearing something that had his last name on it made you even more endearing. He knew he shouldn’t be thinking about his best friend like that, but he couldn’t help it.

“I don’t doubt your charm but we haven’t had any customers all day.” He reminded you.

“That’s because you’ve been keeping me in the back. Go frost your cake. This place will be packed when you return. Just watch”. You said and shooed him okay.

“Okay.” He replied sarcastically.

You were only alone in the bakery for a few minutes before someone came in. It was a guy around your age wearing a hard helmet so you could only assume he was a coal miner.

“Hello.” He smiled at you as he walked up the counter.

“Hello.” You replied. “Welcome to Mellark Bakery.”

“Do you guys sell bread?” He asked you.

“Here? At the bakery?” You asked and stepped to the side to give him a full view of all the baskets of bread behind you.

“Okay, it was a dumb question.” He admitted.

“It’s okay. It’s probably the only question you can ask that I could actually answer. I just learned what yeast was a little while ago.”

“Oh, so you don’t usually work here?”

“I don’t. My best friends family owns the place. But his brother gave his mom a cold and then the whole family caught it. I’m just filling in until they’re better.” You explained.

“That’s a shame. I thought I’d have two reasons to come in here now.” The boy said with a coy smile.

“Two reasons?”

“For delicious bread and a chance to see the pretty girl working the counter.” He replied. You raised your eyebrows in surprise at his flirting before smiling. You’d never had a boy flirt with you so boldly so it made you feel good.

“Well, thanks. How can I help you?” You asked him.

“My mother sent me to get that brown bread but I keep forgetting the name of it.”

“Isn’t all bread brown?”

“Well, yes.” He realized. “But she said this one is browner than the others.”

“I actually think I know what you’re talking about. Is it pumpernickel?” You asked and pulled out a loaf of pumpernickel bread.

“Yes! That’s the one. Look at you being smart. I’ll take a loaf of that.” The boy said. You didn’t really like the way he acted like it was shocking you’d say something smart but you didn’t say anything.

“Surely. Anything else I get you?” You asked as you handed him the wrapped up loaf.

“How about your name?” He smiled as he handed you the money.

“It’s Y/n. You?” You said through a nervous laugh. You weren’t entirely sure you liked the attention anymore.

“Hi. I’m Lycan.” He said and extended his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Lycan.” You smiled politely and shook his hand.

“It is nice, isn’t it? Will you be filling in all week?”

“Most likely.” You told him.

“Then I’ll be back. Thanks for the help.” He winked at you just as Peeta came out from the back. He saw the much taller and stronger looking Lycan leaving the bakery and stopped in his tracks.

“No problem.” You called after him. Peeta caught the way Lycan’s eyes lingered on you after he left the shop and he didn’t like it. He got a weird feeling in his stomach when he noticed that you were flustered.

“Who was that?” Peeta asked.

“That was Lycan. And he bought the last loaf of pumpernickel so we knead to make more. And that was a baking pun, by the way. But it would’ve worked better on paper.”

“Oh. Do you always learn the customers names?” Peeta asked as the weird feeling in his stomach grew. He was feeling jealous already and now that he knew you learned that guys name, it was even worse.

“Not always.” You shrugged. “But he asked my name so I asked his.”

“He asked your name? That was nice of him.” Peeta said through a forced smile. He didn’t know why it bothered him so much that you had caught the attention of the attractive stranger. Maybe because you’d caught Peeta’s attention years ago but still hadn’t noticed.

“Yeah. I guess he was nice. He called me pretty.” You said and looked at Peeta as if you were expecting him to disagree with that statement. Peeta clenched his jaw but kept a straight face.

“You are pretty.” He insisted. “Why do you sound so surprised?”

“I don’t know. I guess because no one’s ever just called me pretty before. Except maybe my mother. But I’ve never heard it from a boy. It was kinda, I don’t know, nice.” You said as you stared out the window. Peeta was kicking himself for never vocalizing how beautiful he found you because now you had to cling to the compliment of a stranger.

“I think you’re pretty.” Peeta said quietly. Your head turned to Peeta and you had a surprised smile on your face. Peeta turned a deep red as he waited for your answer.

“You’re pretty pretty yourself, blondie.” You replied as you passed by him. You started to rearrange some of the baked goods but Peeta was still hung up on this stranger who called you pretty.

“Did you like that guy?” Peeta asked you and feared for the answer.

“I don’t know.” You shrugged. “It was nice to be noticed. But I don’t him enough to know if I like him.”

“Right.” He nodded and desperately tried to take his mind off it. You noticed the far off look in Peeta’s eye but didn’t understand what was bothering him.

“So how’s your cake?” You asked.

“Not good. I made the frosting a weird color. Can you go look at it and tell me if I should scrap it or not?”

“Sure. But if you go check on it later and there’s a piece missing, it wasn’t me.” You teased.

“Very funny.” He said sarcastically.

“I know, right?” You laughed and went to the back. Peeta laughed as well but his smile quickly dropped when the door to the bakery opened. Lycan walked back in and Peeta gulped. He’d only seen him through the window before so now he got to see just how tall and handsome this guy was. Peeta nervously fumbled with the tie on his apron and felt a little insecure to be wearing it when this guy was covering in soot and dirt from being down in the mines.

“Hi. How can I help you?” Peeta asked him. Lycan was visibly disappointed to see Peeta there and was ignoring him as he looked around the bakery for you.

“What happened to the girl that was working here just a few minutes ago?” Lycan asked.

“Who’s asking?” Peeta asked without dropping his cheery smile. Lycan looked Peeta up and down and scoffed a little.

“I am.” He replied. “I wanted to ask her where she lives.”

“Why would you want to know that?” Peeta frowned.

“So I could see her again. I was planning on stopping by sometime. I figured she’d like that.” Lycan answered with a smug expression.

“Well I know her well enough to know she wouldn’t want me telling a stranger where she lives so…” Peeta trailed off and let Lycan fill in the blank.

“Hm. You must be the friend she mentioned. I guess I’ll just have to ask her myself. But why don’t you do me a favor and tell her I stopped by?”

“Surely.” Peeta replied. Lycan recognized the same word you had used and narrowed his eyes at Peeta.

“Thanks, baker boy. Bye.” Lycan smirked and left the bakery. Peeta blinked in surprise at the unexpected rude tone. If he was feeling insecure before, he was feeling even worse now that Lycan made it obvious that he looked down on him.

“Who was that?” You asked when you came out from the back.

“No one.” Peeta lied. “How’s the cake?”

“I actually like the grey color. You should leave it as it is.” You told him.

“But it was supposed to be a wedding cake. Won’t the customer be mad?”

“If I was getting married and my cake was baked by you, I wouldn’t care what it looked like because I would already know it was delicious. But you don’t have to worry about that because the cake looked great. Your cakes always look great. You’re the best cake decorator I know. So stop worrying about it.” You said and playfully smacked his chest.

“I’m the only cake decorator you know.” He said with a shy smile.

“That may be true.” You agreed. “But even if I knew more, you’d still be the best. You’re an artist. All your cakes are lovely. I promise.”

“Thanks for saying that.” He blushed. “We can have a grey cake at our wedding then.”

“Oh? Our wedding?” You raised your eyebrows.

“Your wedding.” He quickly corrected. “I meant your wedding. I will make you a grey cake for your wedding.”

“What if my groom wants a white cake?”

“He’ll want whatever you want.” Peeta said confidently.

“What makes you so sure?” You asked skeptically.

“Just a guess.” He said quickly. He wasn’t about to tell you that if he was the groom, you’d get whatever and however many cakes you wanted.

“Well he better. My mother is already on me about finding someone and settling down. That’s all she thinks I’m gonna be apparently. A wife.” You said with a roll of your eyes.

“Oh, yeah? Is there anyone in particular you’re thinking of?” Peeta asked without looking at you.

“I mean, I wouldn’t be against running off and eloping with you to get her off my back.” You joked. Peeta blushed at the joke and hoped there was some truth to it.

“Or maybe I’ll just marry this Lycan guy to shut her up.” You added, making Peeta’s smile drop. He was definitely jealous now and it was only gonna get worse.

The next day, you went to the bakery again and helped Peeta run the shop. He had you handling the customers while he stayed in the back to bake. Even though you had said it as a joke, you actually were bringing in a lot of customers and selling through baked goods fast. Unfortunately, you brought in Peeta’s least favorite customer.

“Oh no.” Peeta said when he saw Lycan through the windows.

“What?” You asked just as the door opened.

“Hello again.” Lycan greeted you and didn’t acknowledge Peeta in any way.

“Oh, hi, Lycan. What can I get for you today?” You asked him.

“How about you get me your favorite thing in the shop?” He asked with that smug look Peeta hated. Peeta rolled his eyes at the lack of manners but held his tongue.

“Well, that’s hard to pick. Peeta bakes everything and it’s all delicious. He’s an amazing baker.” You said and patted Peeta’s back. Peeta and Lycan made eye contact and gave each other tight smiles.

“Oh, so this is your friend who runs the bakery? Did he tell you I stopped by yesterday to see you?” Lycan asked knowing full well Peeta didn’t mention it. You looked at Peeta in surprise and Peeta gave you a sheepish smile.

“Must’ve forgotten to mention that.” He said quietly.

“Right.” You laughed awkwardly. “Well, I love the cinnamon buns Peeta makes. And we just frosted some so I’ll go grab one from the back.”

You went to the back to grab a cinnamon bun, leaving Peeta and Lycan alone together. Peeta kept his eyes down as Lycan stared at him with a smug expression.

“So how come you had her running the shop all alone yesterday?” Lycan asked with judgement in his voice.

“She was fine. She was only alone for a few minutes but she would’ve been perfectly capable of running the shop all day. She’s great at this stuff. She’s better than me and I grew up in this bakery.” Peeta defended you.

“I could tell.” Lycan snorted. “But running a business is no place for a lady. She should’ve been doing the baking while you handled the customers. A girl like that should be able to sit still and look pretty while you man the place, you know what I mean?”

“Um, no, I don’t know what you mean.” Peeta smiled tightly. “She’s not the type to sit still but you wouldn’t know that because you don’t know her. And we “manned”the shop together all day. I just happened to be in the back decorating the cakes when you came in.”

“Oh, so you make all these? Where did you learn how to do that?” Lycan asked with a condescending smile as he looked at the cakes on display.

“My mother taught me.” Peeta said quietly.

“Oh, I see. My mother taught me that a man’s job involves getting your hands dirty but hey, what does she know?” Lycan shrugged.

“Clearly not how to teach her son manners.” Peeta mumbled. You came out from the back and Peeta relaxed.

“Here. One hot cinnamon bun.” You smiled kindly and handed the treat to Lycan.

“Thank you. It looks almost as good as you do.” He said with a much kinder tone than he had given Peeta.

“Oh. Thank you.” You laughed in surprise and looked over at Peeta. Peeta was too busy staring daggers at Lycan to notice.

“See you tomorrow?” Lycan asked you.

“See you then.” You waved as he left the shop. Once he was gone again, Peeta could finally breathe.

“I don’t like that guy.” Peeta shook his head.

“What? Why not? He’s so nice.” You said. As much as Peeta disliked that guy, he wasn’t about to burst your bubble and tell you Lycan had implied you could not and should not run the bakery by yourself.

“He’s too nice.” Peeta insisted. “And I don’t like the way he was looking at you.”

“How was he looking at me?” You frowned.

“The same way every guy looks at you. Only he looks dumb enough to try something.” Peeta mumbled. You let out a laugh and Peeta was confused.

“What?” He wondered.

“Nothing. I’ve just never heard you call someone dumb before. Here I was thinking you were all sunshine and flowers.” You shrugged with an amused smile.

“I can be tough. You don’t think I can be tough?”

“Well, I’m sure you can be. I’ve just never seen it. I’ve only ever seen your good side.”

“I can be tough. I can be a real tough guy.” Peeta insisted but it sounded unnatural coming out of his mouth.

“Okay, tough guy.” You chuckled. “Show me what you got.”

“What do you mean?”

“Say something mean about me.” You said and gestured towards yourself.

“What? I would never do that.” He laughed but meant it.

“I knew it. You’re too sweet. You don’t have a mean bone in your body. You’re all sugar.” You said and squeezed his arm. Peeta blushed at the contact and felt a little better about himself.

“Here’s something mean. That guy just tracked mud all over the floors. Why are coal miners so messy?” He scoffed and grabbed the mop.

“Maybe because they’re in dirty mines all day? Just a thought.” You teased as Peeta cleaned the floor.

“This is just gross.” Peeta huffed. “And did you see his hands? They were filthy.”

“I didn’t notice them.” You shrugged.

“Yeah, cause you were too busy flirting.” Peeta grumbled.

“Flirting?” You laughed. “I was not flirting with that guy.”

“Yes you were. I’ve never seen you bat your eyelashes like that before. And when’s the last time you warmed something up for a customer? You did that to flirt.” He half joked, half meant entirely.

“That wasn’t me flirting. I was just blinking because of all the dust he brought in.” You said simply. Peeta stopped mopping and looked up to see if you were serious.

“You really weren’t flirting with him?” Peeta asked hopefully.

“With a stranger? Who do you think I am?” You scoffed and grabbed the mop from him. You cleaned up the rest of the mud tracks before handing the mop back.

“Okay.” Peeta smiled. “Good.”

“Why’s that good? You didn’t want me to be flirting with him?” You asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Psh. No. I don’t care who you flirt with.” Peeta quickly explained but even he didn’t believe it.

“Don’t you?” You asked and took a step towards him.

“I don’t.” He gulped.

“All right then.” You smiled sadly and went back behind the counter. Peeta looked over at you and wondered if you had wanted him to say that he didn’t want you flirting with anyone else.

The next day, Peeta was hesitant to leave you alone in the bakery in case Lycan came back to ask you out. If he actually made a move on you, Peeta knew he didn’t stand a chance. There weren’t a whole lot of options for dating in your district so if he asked you out, you’d probably say yes. But Peeta couldn’t stay in the front forever and eventually had to go to the back to frost cakes. And as soon as he was gone, the wolves descended.

“Good morning.” Lycan greeted as he came into the bakery. Your heart started to beat faster when he came in but it wasn’t from excitement. His presence was starting to make you anxious and you didn’t know if you liked the attention anymore.

“Good morning. What will it be today?” You asked politely.

“Some more pumpernickel please. But only half a loaf. I had some of my worker friends over last night and we went through it. We just get so hungry being down in the mines all day. You know how real men’s work is. It’s brutal but hey, someone’s gotta do it.” Lycan shrugged and leaned on the counters that you had just cleaned.

“Right.” You said sarcastically. “Anything else?”

“A smile. From you.” Lycan added. You gave him a tight smile back and realized you really didn’t like the attention. At least, not from him.

“Have a great day.” He said as you handed him the loaf and he handed you the money.

“Thanks. You too.”

“I already did. Because I got to see you.” Lycan said and pointed to you. You forced a smile back and watched as he tracked mud on the floor as he left. Peeta came out from the back a little while later and saw the mud.

“I see Lycan returned.” He said stiffly.

“He sure did.” You replied. Peeta rolled his eyes and grabbed the mop before looking at you.

“Don’t give me that look.” You laughed. “It’s not my fault Mr. Muddy Boots keeps coming in here.”

“Yes it is. I heard him telling you to smile. He likes you.” Peeta mumbled and mopped the floor. His jealousy was back and in full force so he kept his head down.

“Maybe he was just being friendly.”

“But he wasn’t being friendly to me. Only you.” Peeta pointed out.

“Okay, true. But that still doesn’t mean anything. He might just want to be friends.”

“No way. No guy wants to be just friends with a girl as interesting and funny as you.”

“What about you? You just want to be friends, don’t you?” You asked and smiled at his words but he didn’t see it. He was too busy keeping his head down so you couldn’t see how much he was blushing over what you asked.

“There. Finally clean. But if he comes in here and gets the floors muddy one more time, I’m gonna ban him from the bakery.” Peeta said to change the subject.

“Maybe he’s had enough of your baked goods and won’t come in anymore.” You shrugged.

“He’ll be back. Although he might stop buying things and just start coming in to stare at you.” Peeta grumbled, making you laugh. When your laughter died down, you thought about what it would mean if this guy actually wanted to be more than friends.

“Do you actually think he likes me?” You asked quietly.

“Of course he does. And I can’t blame him. But I can be annoyed about how often he comes in here.” Peeta said and continued to avoid eye contact with you.

“But him coming in here means you get more customers.” You reminded him. “And what do you mean you can’t blame him?”

“Him coming in here means I have to look at his dumb face while he bumbles around and tries to flirt with you. All while making the bakery muddy. I wouldn’t mind losing him as a customer.” Peeta replied and conveniently ignored the second half of what you said.

“Well we should probably bake another loaf of pumpernickel in case he comes in tomorrow.” You shrugged and started to gather the ingredients. Peeta froze and watched you tie on an apron as jealousy burned a hole inside him.

“What?” You asked when you saw Peeta’s face.

“You want him to come back?” Peeta asked in a soft voice.

“I didn’t say that. But if he does, which I’m assuming he will, we should have bread for him.”

Peeta was quiet again for a minute as he looked at you. He didn’t think you liked this guy back until he watched you gathering ingredients to make something specifically for him.

“Do you, um, do you like him back or something?” Peeta asked you. He didn’t sound angry or anything, just sad.

“What I like is earning money. Which customers bring in. Customers like Lycan.” You said and headed to the back where the oven was.

“Fine. But just don’t bake that with love, okay?” Peeta called after you. He heard you laugh and felt a little better because it reminded him that no one made you laugh quite like he did.

“I’ll try.” You called back.

The next day, Peeta was ready for anything. He asked you to bake some muffins in the back while he dealt with the customers during the evening rush. He had made it through almost the entire day before he saw Lycan coming in to the bakery. He looked around for you as soon as he walked in before walking up the counter.

“How can I help you?” Peeta asked with a forced smile.

“Actually, I was hoping Y/n could help me. She here?” Lycan asked and peered behind the counter.

“She’s busy with the baking in the back.”

“Really? I thought frosting cakes was your job? Tell me, how do you make them look so pretty?” Lycan asked in a mocking tone.

“It takes a steady hand. And a clean one.” Peeta said as his eyes dropped to Lycans dirt covered hands.

“These are workers hands. But you wouldn’t know anything about that would you, baker boy?” Lycan said in a low voice as he leaned on the counter. Peeta gulped but was determined to stand his ground.

“I know about hard work. Just because my work is different from yours doesn’t mean it’s any less important.” He replied.

“Are you serious?” Lycan laughed. “I risk my life everyday to get the coal that you use to bake your pretty little cakes. You’re not important. I mean, your work isn’t important. I know that, and she knows that.” Lycan whispered so only Peeta could hear. His words were getting to Peeta and he wasn’t feeling as confident as before.

“She’d never go for you.” Peeta said quietly.

“What other choice does she have? You?” Lycan scoffed. “I asked around about the two of you, you know. Everyone had the same thing to say. That the bakers boy absolutely adores her but isn’t man enough to do anything about it.”

“I could do something about it.” Peeta insisted.

“Oh really? Then why haven’t you?” Lycan asked him. Peeta opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out. He had no answer to give.

“That’s what I thought.” Lycan snickered. “She’d never go for you either.”

Peeta looked down at the ground and believed what Lycan was saying. You came out from the back and immediately sensed the awkward tension. You first noticed Peeta’s sad expression and then Lycan’s smug smirk.

“Oh, hi Lycan. Back so soon?” You asked as you looked between the boys and tried to figure out what had just happened between them.

“I just needed to get some bread. And seeing your pretty face never hurts.” Lycan said and switched to a nice smile.

“Aw, thanks.” You said with a fake smile.

“You know, being a coal miner is really dangerous. Nothing like the easy job this guy has.” Lycan said and nodded towards Peeta. “When the boys and I go down into the mines, we never know if we’re gonna get to come back out. So I try to take a minute and appreciate the beautiful things in life as much as I can. And that includes you.”

“Aw, thanks.” You repeated in the same uncomfortable tone. Peeta looked up and saw that Lycan was staring at him with a puffed up smile. In other words, he thought he ate that.

“See you around, doll.” Lycan winked at you before leaving the shop.

“That was painful.” You said once he was gone.

“For us both.” Peeta mumbled.

“I think you were right. I think he may be more than just friendly.” You laughed nervously.

“What gave it away?” Peeta smiled sarcastically.

“I just don’t understand what he wants from me. I don’t even know what to say when he talks like that.” You said and grimaced at the memory of his little speech.

“He probably wants a wife. And he wants you to say it can be you.”

“A wife?” You laughed in shock. “He doesn’t even know me.”

“But he wants to. That’s why he keeps coming in here. He probably wanted to ask you out today but wouldn’t with me in here.”

“Well I wouldn’t say yes even if he did. So there’s nothing to worry about.” You shrugged.

“Don’t tell me there’s nothing to worry about.” Peeta snapped. You were both surprised by his tone and stood in awkward silence following his exclamation. Peeta was too embarrassed to look at you so he kept his head down and played with the ties in his apron. He heard your footsteps coming over to him and suddenly, you were lifting his chin to get him to look at you.

“What’s this about?” You asked quietly. Peeta sighed and looked to the side.

“He works in the mines and risks his life. I work in a bakery and decorate cakes. He’s covered in soot and dirt and I end the day covered in flour and sugar.”

“So?” You laughed.

“So, he’s a real man.” Peeta insisted. “And that’s what you deserve.”

“Do you think I don’t see you as a real man?” You asked and wrapped your arms around Peeta’s neck. He turned bright red and finally looked at you.

“Look at me. And look at him. We’re not the same.” Peeta said softly.

“Just because he works down there and you work up here doesn’t make you any less of a man.” You assured him.

“It feels like it does. Especially when…”

“When what?” You asked when Peeta trailed off.

“When I thought you liked him. I assumed he caught your attention because he’s all big and tough and I’m just…soft.” He shrugged and gave you an embarrassed smile.

“He caught my attention because he’s annoying and dirty. And I happen to like that you’re soft.” You told him.

“You do?” Peeta asked skeptically.

“Of course I do. I like that you never have a mean thing to say about anybody. I like that you decorate cakes and smell like cinnamon all the time. And I like that you stop to pick flowers that you like. But you know what I don’t like?”

“What?”

“That guy. I don’t like how he thinks I shouldn’t run the shop by myself. I don’t like how he can’t compliment me on anything but my looks. I don’t like how he thinks his job makes him superior to us. And I don’t like that he made you feel bad about yourself.” You said. Peeta looked into your eyes and saw how serious you were. A smile tugged at his lips as he believed that he didn’t have anything to worry about.

“He made fun of my cake decorating.” Peeta added with a coy smile.

“What? Now that’s too far. Let’s ban him.” You played along. Peeta laughed and pulled you into a hug.

“I never want you to think you’re not good enough ever again, okay?” You said as you rubbed his back.

“Okay.” Peeta reluctantly replied. You pulled out of the hug and rubbed his shoulders.

“If he comes in here again, I’ll tell him to back off. Of both of us.” You assured Peeta.

“Good. Because I’m not much of a fighter.” He said through a relieved laugh.

“I know. You’re a lover. Thats what I love about you.” You told him and went to go clean the counter. Peeta watched you for a minute with a content smile on his face.

“It is?” He asked in a soft voice.

“Amongst other things, but yes.” You replied.

“There are a lot of things I love about you too.” Peeta said without looking at you.

“Are there?” You asked with piqued interest.

“Of course. Dozens of things.”

“Dozens?” You pretended to gasp and looked over at him.

“Uh huh. A bakers dozen.” He replied with a coy smile.

“Hey.” You laughed. “Baking humor is my thing.”

“I know, I know. But I think that’s another reason Lycan bothered me so much. I thought he was gonna take you away before I got a chance to tell you any of them.” Peeta said simply. Your expression changed but he didn’t catch it as he went to change the sign on the door from “open” to “closed”.

“Well. It’s quitting time.” Peeta sighed and looked the front door.

“Right. We should go.”

The next day, Lycan came in bright and early in the morning. He was the first customer and walked in before you had even arrived yet. Peeta gulped when he saw him and hoped you’d get to the bakery as soon as possible. Then he remembered what you had said about what you loved about him and felt a little braver.

“Hey, Peeta. Just you today?” Lycan asked in a condescending voice.

“For now.” Peeta answered calmly.

“These are nice. You pick them yourself?” Lycan asked as he flicked one of the flowers Peeta had in a vase on the counter.

“As a matter of fact, yes. I did.”

“I thought so. Just when I thought you couldn’t get anymore pathetic. It’s no wonder Y/n doesn’t want you.” Lucan snorted. He hadn’t heard you entering the bakery from the back so when you appeared behind the counter where Peeta was, he gulped.

“Oh, hi, Y/n. Good morning.” He said nervously and hoped you hadn’t heard what he just said. You gave Lycan a big smile before turning to Peeta.

“Good morning.” You greeted Peeta before pulling him into a long kiss. Peeta was stiff with shock at first but then kissed you back as his hands found their place on your waist. Lycan watched this with a dropped jaw and angrily cleared his throat when he felt like it was going on too long. You pulled out of the kiss with a big smile and patted Peeta’s red cheek.

“Sorry about that.” You chuckled as you wrapped an arm around Peeta’s shoulders. Peeta and Lycan were both silent as they processed what had happened. You made your choice loud and clear to the both of them and they were both too stunned to speak. Peeta finally smiled and took one of the flowers out of the vase to place behind your ear as a little thank you. You smiled in appreciation before looking at Lycan.

“So.” You shrugged. “What can we get you?”

Tag List 🥖

@ilovetoomanymen @kittimbo @sipsthecoffee @ohmyhuenings @

@ilykitwalker @mayemperess @scenesofobx

[luxaofhesperides]

“You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the windows to your soul’ thing was until I saw yours.” + fluff + cafe AU ; requested by @kiv1!

He’s sure Danny didn’t expect to see him every other day after he casually mentioned that he had gotten a part time job at a local cafe. However, as his friend, it is Duke’s moral duty to only get coffee from that shop while Danny is on shift, specifically to annoy him. 

Also, so he can support his friend, but being annoying takes priority.

It’s a routine now, for both of them. Danny clocks in for his shift and an hour later Duke is strolling into the cafe with his eyes locked on Danny’s. The rest of the baristas always shove Danny up to the register when they see Duke, taking over whatever order he was making. Even some of the other regulars turn their attention up to the counter, hoping for another few minutes of entertainment.

Danny sighs as he gets ready to input Duke’s order. It’s never the same one, because Duke would hate to be predictable and make things easier for Danny, but it has the side effect of making him realize that some of the expensive, seasonal drinks are really good. 

It’s a bit hard on his wallet, but it’s a price he’s willing to pay for teasing Danny. 

“Hey,” he greets cheerfully as he leans against the counter, grinning at Danny.

Danny sighs again. “What can I get you today, random customer that keeps bothering me.”

“A latte, but make it sweet somehow. And iced.”

“What size would you like?”

“Let’s go with medium today.”

“Anything else?”

“Yeah.” Duke leans closer to Danny, watching as he fights down a smile. “I just gotta say that you got gorgeous eyes. You know, I never realized how true the ‘eyes are the window to your soul thing’ was until I saw yours.”

Danny considers this for a moment, then shakes his head. “It kind of sounds like your trying to steal my soul through my eyes.”

“Why is that what your mind goes to?”

“Well. I watched Coraline last night.”

Duke stares at Danny, taking in the dark circles under his eyes. “...Didn’t you say that movie gave you nightmares as a kid?”

“Yeah! And it turns out, it gives me nightmares even now!”

“And ruined my pick up line,” Duke complains playfully.

“It was too cheesy anyways,” Danny replies, putting Duke’s order into the screen. It prints a moment later, no doubt with some bizarre name since Danny refuses to actually name Duke on his orders, and then recites the price. 

He pays and watches as Danny slaps the order onto a medium sized up, then tosses it over to the barista making the drinks. He’s not actually sure what her name is since she refuses to wear a name tag, but she always gives him a wave and also a rating of how good his pick up lines are.

“Seven out of ten!” she calls out to him today, then gets started on making his drink.

“I don’t see why you don’t flirt with anyone else,” Danny says, “I’m pretty sure my coworkers like your pick up lines even more than they like me.”

“Why would I want to flirt with them? Danny, I’m literally only here to bother you.”

Danny rolls his eyes. “Yeah, trust me, I know. My good looks just keep pulling in business.”

He says it like a joke, but it’s true. Duke has noticed it. Danny’s coworkers have noticed it. His manager noticed it and now has him out on the floor every shift. If they can get him to work on the chalkboard sign outside, or wipe down the two tables out front, then they do it, because Danny is Midwestern to his core and it’s very charming in a place like Gotham. He smiles at people as they walk by, happily answers their questions when they ask him what the cafe serves, recommends food and drinks for them, is generally a bright and nice person to everyone who comes near the cafe. 

His cute looks draw people in, then his personality makes them stay. 

It’s all customer service, of course, because Duke never gets the cute, sunny Danny. He’s left with the sarcastic, rude, and funny Danny that’s been his friend since they met in junior year of high school. 

“Your eyes are really pretty, though,” Duke says, “Very blue. Sometimes green. It’s no wonder people keep falling for you!”

Danny reaches across the counter to shove Duke away, but he’s blushing, so Duke is counting it as a win. “Shut up. Now you’re just lying. My eyes are never green.”

“Yes, they are. Danny, I’ve seen them multiple times. They’re green sometimes.”

“No? My eyes have literally only ever been blue. They’re the bluest blue to ever blue. They don’t just turn green.”

They squint at each other for a long moment, trying to figure out who’s wrong and in what way. Duke’s pretty sure Danny’s wrong, since he can’t exactly see his own eyes, and Duke has spent an embarrassing amount of time just admiring how nice they are in different kinds of light. But also, they are Danny’s eyes, so he should know what color they are.

Then Danny’s coworker is setting down Duke’s drink on the pick up counter, giving Danny an excuse to get back to work.

“One medium oatmeal cookie iced latte for Cornelius Aggravating Douglas.” He holds up the drink and makes very direct eye contact with Duke, holding out the drink towards him.

“Did you really have to make the initials ‘Cad’?”

“Yes.”

“Fair enough,” Duke says, making Danny crack a smile. 

“Are you heading out after this?”

Duke grabs a straw and sticks it into his latte, swirling it around some. “That was the plan, yeah. Got a few library books to pick up. Why?”

“I got approval for a half shift today, so I’m off in like ten minutes, if you wanna wait for me.”

“Hell yeah, dude! I’ll wait outside so I don’t distract you with my flirtatious winks again.”

“Get out of here,” Danny laughs. Duke lifts his drink in a quick toast, then gets out of there. He takes a seat at one of the tables out front, content to just people watch as he slowly sips his latte.  

It’s cloudy out, but not raining, which is always a plus. As much as he’d like to see the sun, these kinds of days aren’t so bad, either. The wind still carries a bit of a chill, but the spring is steadily warming things up. There are tons of people out, a constant rush of movement, but a few do catch sight of him, then look towards the cafe, their steps slowing down as they think. Most keep walking, but Duke does manage to get a few to go in just by taking a long sip of his latte to really enjoy it.

Really, he should be getting compensated for the work he’s doing to draw people in. Danny’s not the only one who can do it. 

Bruce keeps offering him money, so he doesn’t need to get paid, but maybe he can convince the other employees to talk Danny into accepting one of his pick up lines so they can go on a date one of these days. 

It’s become a bit of a joke, but the first time Duke used a cheesy pick up line on Danny, he was being absolutely serious about it. He definitely shouldn’t have used a pick up line he found from a website centered on relationship advice, but he panicked and needed some extra help. 

Instead of smoothly asking Danny out on a date, Duke froze up, blurted out the pick up line, then had to laugh it off with Danny and pretend it was a joke. 

He still wishes he was able to ask Danny out properly before, but he’s also glad that they got to spend more time as friends, getting to know each other. It’s easier to be with him now, no longer so tongue tied and flustered. 

Duke gets to fluster Danny now, which is much better. 

And maybe one day his pick up lines will work! Sooner or later Danny’s going to question why he keeps doing this, and then he’ll connect the dots and understand what Duke feels for him.

As it is, he has yet to connect shit. 

“My eyes are definitely blue,” Danny says as he walks out of the cafe, messenger bag slung over his shoulder. “I checked while I was putting my apron away.”

“You’re still on that?”

“They’re blue.”

Duke gestures for Danny to come closer. He complies and leans down, letting Duke cup his face in his hands. He checks, considers, then checks again, and says, “They are indeed blue.”

“Told you they weren’t green,” Danny says smugly, pulling back. 

“And I said they were green sometimes. Now clearly isn’t one of those times, but they do turn green!”

“I don’t think you should be allowed to say any eye-related pick up lines until you admit that you were wrong and didn’t know my eye color.”

Shaking his head, Duke stands up and pushes in his chair. “Just wait, I’ll catch it sometime and prove it to you.”

“Sure, whatever. Don’t you have library books to get?”

“Yeah, you coming with?”

“Obviously. Why else would I leave my wonderful job where I am left alone to make drinks in peace?” Danny knocks his shoulder against Duke playfully, then reaches over and steals his drink right out of his hand. He takes a sip, makes a pleased hum, and drains half of what was left in the cup. 

“Hey!” Duke moves to take it back, which is naturally the exact moment Danny takes off running, effortlessly dodging everyone else on the sidewalk. He takes off after Danny, using his powers to make sure he can move out of the way of anything or anyone who gets in his path. 

They’re past the block when Danny starts to slow down, taking another sip of Duke’s latte. 

He puts on a final burst of speed and all but tackles Danny into the mouth of an alley, reaching for his cup. “Gotcha!”

“No!” Danny wails dramatically. He takes a step back and Duke watches as his power kicks up again, showing him a vision of Danny stepping on an empty can and falling back. Except he doesn’t really fall back? His foot rolls back on the can for a second, then goes through the can and settles back onto the ground where he catches his balance. Through the entire three second fall, Danny’s eyes are a bright green, brighter than Duke’s ever seen them.

His vision fades away and he moves to catch Danny, taking the chance to watch carefully as Danny’s foot does indeed go through the can. He quickly brings his gaze up to Danny’s eyes, which are green, but not inhumanly bright like they were in his vision.

Is the green not perceptible to normal humans?

He can probably only see it due to his powers. Which means he somewhat inadvertently outed himself as a meta.

Whoops!

Might as well just bite the bullet.

“Hey, do you have powers?” 

Danny chokes, shoving Duke away as he coughs and tries to clear his throat. He looks panicked, wild-eyed, searching for an escape route. “What? No. Why would I have powers? Maybe you have powers, have you ever considered that?”

“I mean. I do have powers. That’s why I’m asking.”

“Hold up. Stop talking. You have powers?”

“And your eyes are green sometimes.”

“That’s. No, they’re not,” Danny lies. It’s a very bad lie, seeing how on edge he is, and as much as Duke hates making Danny feel like that, he did get some bad habits while training with Bruce and this is one of them: the need to keep pushing, chasing after clear answers regardless of what the cost is. 

Duke shrugs, taking a sip of his latte, down to its last few mouthfuls, acting casual. “If you say so. But my powers don’t lie, man. As much as I wish they would, sometimes.”

“...Can we not do this out here?” The defeated tone Danny speaks with makes Duke hate himself. But he needs answers now. He needs to know if Danny is like him, if he’s safe, if he needs help. He needs it more than he needs Danny to like him at all. 

“Sure. I know a few quiet places we can talk.”

“I can’t believe this is happening,” Danny mutters. “Did my eyes really give it away?”

“Yeah. I mean, to be fair, I also didn’t realize until literally right now, so I don’t think anyone else will figure it out just from staring into your eyes.”

“See, this is what happens when you keep flirting when you don’t mean it. Secrets get pulled out into the open and it’s bad for everyone!”

Duke lightly punches Danny’s arm, trying to lift the mood. “Hey, who said I didn’t mean it?”

“What?”

“Who said I didn’t mean it when I flirt with you?”

Danny blinks at him, confused, then says, “I mean, no one I guess. But it’s pretty obvious?”

“I only flirt with you, you know.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Duke says, trying to ignore how his voice shakes slightly. “There’s another one of my secrets. Can we call it even now?”

“Oh!” The shock of the revelation distracts Danny from his earlier nerves. Which is great, because now Duke is the one who’s nervous. It’s worth it, though, seeing the pretty blush come to bloom on Danny’s cheeks. “So all those pick up lines—”

“Yeah.”

“And the pick up line made you realize my powers!” 

“These pick up lines are doing the most,” Duke agrees. And then he realizes, “Hey, you what this means? I was right! Your eyes are windows to your soul!”

“I’m going to hit you,” Danny says, already winding back for a solid punch. He lets Danny hit him since it’s only fair for the stress he caused; as a meta, Duke knows how important secrecy is, how the difference between life and death can be just how well his powers are hidden. 

“Are we even now?”

Danny considers him for a moment, then sighs. “Yeah, I guess. Let’s be done with this for now, okay? Let’s go to the library.”

He refuses to entertain any conversation about powers or Duke’s feelings for him. It’s nice to spend time with Danny, but by the end, Duke is sure he can feel his heart start to crack in half. A sleepless night awaits him when he gets home, moving past his cousin’s attempts to talk to him in favor of flopping face down onto his bed.

But the next day, Danny grins at him when he walks into the cafe. He doesn’t have a new pick up line, choosing instead to act as calm and casual as possible to give Danny some space.

Also breaking routine, Danny insists on personally making Duke’s drink, writing something onto the cup before he fills it up with a floral tea. 

You’re so fine, you made me forget my pick up line, is scrawled on the side of his cup when he gets it. 

“Enjoy your drink, Cutiepie the Third,” Danny says with a shy smile.

“The Third?” Duke repeats, relief making him feel lighter than air, “Who are the first two?”

“Don’t worry about it, cutie. Get to class!”

Duke lets Danny chase him out, and holds in his laugh when he hears Danny’s coworker screech, “What was that?!”

Yeah, they’ll be fine. In the meantime, Duke needs to see if apology pick up lines are thing. Danny definitely deserves one.

[sk8terhoons]

Sunghoon fic recs

@asahicore Cherry Pits

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Dilf!hoon x younger!fem reader, neighbors to lovers

Word Count: 12.9k

Synopsis: Your alarmingly empty bank account forces you to find a last-minute summer job so that you can afford a trip with your friends. The extremely handsome customer that comes into the store just happens to be a young single dad who's renovating the old house next to yours. The tension that settles between the two of you as you start helping him fix up his house soon becomes unbearable, but it's all one-sided anyway, right?

More fics under cut!

@asahicore Stupid In Love

This fic contains smut

Pairing: hoon x fem reader, childhood best friends to lovers

Word Count: 22.1k

Synopsis: One night early on in your summer vacation, your best friend Sunghoon admits that his biggest anxiety about starting college is going there as a virgin - one thing leads to another, and you end up learning a few things from each other. The more time passes, the more obvious it becomes that your feelings for each other surpass friendship, but with the end of summer looming over your heads, it's hard to tell where these newfound emotions will lead you.

@jaylaxies To All The Boys I’ve Fucked Before, To The Boy: Who Took Me To Prom

This fic contains smut

pairing: Best friends brother!hoon x fem reader

Word Count: 19.6k

Synopsis: Prom—the last event of senior high school was right around the corner, but the only person who you wanted to go with had rejected you for his own reasons, leaving you upset and unwilling to attend the event. however, your best friend, mina, was hellbent on making you attend it and being a sweetheart, she ends up persuading her brother, sunghoon, to be your date for the night.

@zreamy SPF 23

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Sunghoon x fem!reader

Word Count: 31.8k

Synopsis: For as long as you can remember, your summers have been much the same, largely spent in your hometown, relaxing by the local pool. when you get back home this summer, things seem like they'll go the same way, until you get to the pool that is — when did the lifeguard get so hot?

@neo-percs Deep End

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Rich!Sunghoon x fem!reader

Word Count: 36.6k

Synopsis: After saving Sunghoon from drowning at the local pool; y/n offers to give him swimming lessons which leads into way more than expected.

@simpjaes Night Shift

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Boss/ Cam boy!hoon x afab reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Synopsis: Sunghoon, a keen and professional man between the hours of 8 AM to 5 PM. ServiceKing, a faceless and proud man between the hours of 9 PM to 12 AM. Sunghoon’s secret night-life has nothing to do with the faces he sees day after day...until it does.

Or the one where you pay for a one on one call with a faceless cam guy you’ve been watching for a little while, and the next day your boss is avoiding you like the plague. 

@simpjaes Day Shift

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Boss/ Cam boy!hoon x afab reader

Word Count: 14.5k

Synopsis: After finding out that your boss has seen, heard, and instructed you through some pleasurable nights while parading around as a faceless cam-boy, you decide that your best course of action is to: call out sick. use vacation days. avoid Park Sunghoon at all costs. Unfortunately, ten days doesn’t appear to be nearly enough time to erase what’s happened, and Sunghoon refuses to be avoided.

Or the one where sunghoon pretends that he isn’t an anxious mess over accidentally exposing himself and you just so happen to have a lot of fucking empathy. 

@jlheon Love Exists, I’m Full Of It

This fic contains smut

Pairing: Situationship!hoon x fem reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Synopsis: When park sunghoon breaks up with his long time girlfriend he needs something to get his mind off her, you happen to be the perfect distraction : a girl who’s naive and has never had a boyfriend

My 1st fic rec list! I hope you all love it, I worked super hard to pick my favs so i hope you all enjoy!

[charliedawn]

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a Five hargreeves fluff.. Season 4 destroyed me and I've been looking for so five comfort and your one of my favorite writers, if so o would really appreciate it :)

(Five is becoming popular, huh ? Good for him. 😁)

Five never left the Hargreeves estate without telling his siblings or making sure they would know where to find him—but there were some moments where he would disappear without saying a word to his family. He would wordlessly teleport to a bar in the middle of nowhere where customers were but a few and where the jazz music playing in the background soothed his soul. He would then order one specific drink every single time—the coconut on the beach with a vanilla essence. But it wasn’t the reclusive aspect of the bar, the nice music or even the good cocktails that would be making him come back time and time again.

He would wait for the waiter/waitress to come bring him his drink. And then, he would simply watch them in silence for a few minutes. He would observe them as they went along with their life and didn’t glance back at him until they were done with their tasks at hand…

Y/N L/N.

That name was engraved into his brain and refused to leave. That. And the last date written on a diary he had kept safe from the moment he had left the end of the world.

April 1, 2019.

The exact date where everything ended to the very second where your hand had stopped writing, or would stop writing. To the last loop of your handwriting when everything seemed to stop and your very existence vanished.

His breath hitched.

Your eyes had met from across the bar.

He could have sworn for a second that you could read his mind and see exactly what he was thinking about.

All those nights turning page after page of the same diary. The only descent reading material he had managed to find at the end of the world. The testimony of a human who had lived and died in that very same bar. The human he was currently looking at after having known them through paper first.

He could almost see your thoughts, see the turmoil in your eyes. Because he had read it. He had read about the little boy who had become your regular customer one day and who had never spoke a word to you. He had read about you, the major episodes in your existence and the strangest and most embarrassing moments in your life. He could recite every single word of that diary by heart. He had had more than 50 years to look over and memorise that cursed and precious journal.

But, he always came back to the same pages—over and over.

The pages about a little boy and his dark eyes who seemed older than his years—wordlessly staring at you. The customer who you had wondered time and time again if you would ever strike a conversation with ?

Spoiler alert.

You never did…

The boy kept coming back again and again until the very end—regular like clockwork. Five knew of each time you two would meet—and he dreaded that last moment. The moment where he would stop coming, because he knew that the day he would miss one of your meetings, it would be the day he would either die or have given up on saving you. And he dreaded that moment—that moment where nothing would matter anymore.

So, he kept coming back. He kept coming back—hoping that something would finally change. But nothing ever did. And he could feel his fears and his desperation growing. If something—anything could change…then maybe not everything was lost.

After so many days spent torturing his mind and begging for a sign…that sign finally came.

As he was sipping on his drink, he felt someone sitting down next to him. He didn’t look, but then the presence spoke up.

"Hey there. Nice tie."

He looked up and seemed stunned for a few seconds as he saw your smile.

You had…spoken to him.

Nowhere in all the pages he had read in your diary had you ever mentioned speaking to him. To the very end, all you had ever done was recall that weird kid with the sad eyes who would be staring at you, pay and leave. He took a minute to compose himself and your smile faltered slightly. Maybe had you been wrong to approach the kid ? He had just seemed so…lost. He looked like some rich kid from a private school, and yet he would always come back to your bar. Maybe was he looking to talk to someone ? Or maybe had you been wrong and he wanted to be left alone ?

You sighed and were about to stand up when you heard him reply.

"Nice shirt/dress."

You stopped dead in your tracks and turned around. You sat back next to him and smiled before extending your hand towards him.

"Thanks. The name is Y/N by the way."

He smiled back politely and shook your hand.

"Five. Five Hargreeves."

At that moment, there was a little spark that traveled between you two and the name written on the journal in Five’s pocket changed to:

Y/N Hargreeves.

[jqafterdark]

Seeing S/O in Lingerie Reaction

From a request in my main blog, this has no smut but VERY SUGGESTIVE so... yeah ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Sebastian Moran, William James Moriarty, Sherlock Holmes, and Louis James Moriarty

Tag/s: Historically inaccurate lingerie

Sebastian Moran

The man whistled as soon as you entered his field of vision.

He looked like a kid in a candy store.

Straight up GRINNING from ear to ear.

If you're showing him a variety, he'll inspect every single one of them.

It's almost alarming how focused he looks.

Little do you know, he's thinking about how to use whatever lace or strings your outfit has to his advantage in the bedroom.

The minute you're within his reach, Sebastian pulls you to his lap to get a closer look.

He takes his time to take in your figure while his hands roam through your body.

Even as you walk away, his eyes never leave your figure.

Like you were one of his targets on missions.

He would definitely tease you, wanting you to get riled up as much as he is.

What's more annoying is he wants you to say that you want to do it before he continues.

He's torn between taking it off or just doing the deed with it still on you.

Whatever position you're in, he definitely has a good view of you.

A mirror might be involved.

"I'm back-" Sebastian abruptly stopped as your eyes met in the mirror, wide in shock.

His eyes traveled down to your new short silk nightgown and stockings, going up and down before smiling.

"You could have just said so," he chuckled, removing his coat as he walked up to you.

You quickly grabbed whatever was closest to you, in this case, a hairbrush, and pointed it at him as you kept a distance.

"Oh no, you don't! Last time, I chased the target through the city with a limp!" you muttered, keeping your distance as your eyes never left him.

"Do you have a mission tomorrow?" Sebastian innocently asked, making you pause.

"...No...?"

"Then that settles it," he smiled, quickly hugging your waist.

"SEBASTIAN!"

"Don't worry, I'll be gentle. Wouldn't want your pretty outfit to rip, now do we?"

William James Moriarty

When you asked him to come with you to go underwear shopping, he was shocked, to say the least.

But he quickly recovered and agreed.

You definitely have his attention now.

While his eyes kept following you while he drank his tea, his smile was different than it usually was.

It was more... devious, so to speak.

While he keeps his composure, a lot has happened in his mind.

While you were picking some things, William acted like a perfect gentleman.

Holds the clothes you picked, heartfelt compliments to boost your confidence, over all the best boyfriend you could ask for.

Almost too good to be true. And it was.

He might have thought of a few scenarios on how the two of you could get away with it in the store.

It helped that it was a pretty private dressing room, considering the store was made just for the nobles, where it was just you and him.

Even the workers were far from earshot, attending to the other customers at the front.

But he didn't continue since he saw you enjoying your little date and didn't want to ruin your good mood.

It didn't help that you would ask him for help to put some of them on, though... Or take them off.

Besides, he has the whole night planned just for the two of you, and he's making sure no one would bother you two.

You hummed happily as you swung the bags in your arms, satisfied with your purchases.

"I'm surprised you agreed to go shopping with me, Will!" you mused as you turned to William, "Didn't you have a meeting later with everyone? Wouldn't you be late?"

William gave you a smile as he grabbed your hand, "The meeting was moved since some of the professors were out sick,"

"Is that so..." you trailed off, shrugging off his response.

William quietly chuckled, remembering the surprised expressions his comrades had when he said the meeting was canceled and assigned a new mission to everyone.

The manor was now empty until morning.

"Well, whatever! I can't wait to try these at home," you beamed, looking down at your new haul.

"Indeed," William agreed, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

Sherlock Holmes

He never saw the appeal of the lingerie until he saw it on you.

Now, lace is his favorite thing on your body.

The first time he saw you in lingerie, it was like he shut down.

He didn't say a word, but his eyes were glued to you as he reached his hand out to you.

When you walked up to him, he eyed every inch of your body, engraving the image of you in his mind.

To him, you looked ethereal.

Like beauty personified.

When he did speak, it was soft and breathless, as if you rendered him speechless.

And when you did it, the sight of you in lingerie and covered in hickeys he left is now his favorite thing.

He gets more possessive whenever he sees you in lingerie.

And surprisingly more gentle and slow, wanting to enjoy every second of it.

Now, every time you buy a new set, he likes having a private fashion show.

When you bring him to a lingerie store, he is not embarrassed at all.

Hell, he'd even pick out a few things for you.

You can tell his compliments are genuine with how serious his expression is.

"Sherlock?" you called out, slowly walking up to him.

His eyes were completely wide as he looked at you.

"Sherl?" you called out again, but no response as he continued to stare at you.

You bit your lip as you covered yourself, feeling self-conscious wearing nothing but a bustier with matching underwear.

"Don't,"

"Huh?" Sherlock quickly grabbed your hands, pulling them down to your side.

"Don't hide it. You look beautiful," Sherlock breathed out, mesmerized by your outfit as his eyes slowly looked up at you.

You felt your face flush as you looked away, unable to meet his gaze.

"You're staring too much,"

"I disagree,"

Louis James Moriarty

You almost gave the man a heart attack.

He was not expecting to see you in lace and sheer one night after a long day of house chores.

Was it an unwelcomed surprise? No. Definitely not.

That night, he was just hoping to have some downtime with you after working the whole day.

So when he saw you by your dresser half-dressed putting on stockings, it was like the man turned into stone.

Minutes later, Louis came back and saw you in your robe, relieved to see he was okay.

His face became completely red when he remembered what happened and apologized for walking in on you.

Even though you forgave Louis, he's still scolding himself for liking what he saw.

What's more, his eyes would gaze over your robe when it would slip.

Explaining why he slammed his head on the table was interesting, to say the least.

So when you told Louis it was okay for him to look, he was still shy. But you would catch him stealing glances your way.

He tries to compliment you, say anything coherent for that matter. But he just mutters something while looking at the ground.

However, the moment he got more confident, his hands would not let you go.

Suddenly, he's fluent in dirty talk and knows just what to say to get you in the mood.

And he makes sure you know just how beautiful and alluring you looked that night.

"I truly apologize..." Louis muttered, a cold towel over his head as you chuckled, tying the robe tightly around your waist.

"Don't be. I'm just surprised," you reassured as you removed the towel, making Louis meet your eyes.

You weren't sure, but you swear you saw his eyes tracing your robe down to your chest.

His face turned completely red instantly, making him turn away.

You breathed out a smile as you hugged him tightly, kissing the top of his head.

"I'm really not mad, Louis!" you giggled, swaying side-by-side.

"Besides, that was for your eyes only, you know?" you grinned, making the man freeze as steam came out of his face as you snickered.

"Please don't tease me..."

[officialaemondtargaryen]

Fall In Love With A Girl

❝she'll make you feel like the world is on your shoulder.❞

Summary: What can go wrong, will go wrong. That is until you meet the most beautiful woman you've ever seen and her brother's puppy.

Pairing: Modern Helaena Targaryen x Reader

Word Count: ~3.3k

Author’s Note: This is a re-write of an old fic of mine. I'm in my re-writing era and this is Megan's Version. I felt like this would be the perfect time to remind everyone that I love women.

Warnings: language, fluff, women loving women (if you are against this unfollow me?)

There were certain rules to being a veterinary technician.

Number one, waterproof mascara and eyeliner always; you’ll never get used to those abuse cases or having to hold someone’s hand as they say goodbye to their beloved pet. Number two, carry a lint roller on you at all times; it’s best to get the pocket-sized one, because both dogs and cats shed a lot! Especially Bella the Saint Bernard who was due for her yearly check up today. Number three, iron your scrubs! And it’s probably best to keep an extra pair in your car, because it’s more likely than not that you’ll end up getting peed on by someone’s over-excited pup.

Even though you knew these rules by heart and you followed them every single day of your work life, today was an exception. It was just one of those days that absolutely nothing- no matter how hard you tried- was going right. You were covered in fluffy cat hairs, Mrs. Comier’s Jack Russell, Hankie, peed on your leg twice, and you had run out of waterproof mascara. So, when Mr. Langley brought in his thirteen year old Labrador to put her down, he cried and so you cried, and in the end you looked like the raccoon that liked to sneak into the office dumpsters at closing hoping to find some cat food.

Today just wasn’t your day.

It was fifteen minutes until closing time, and you could feel the excitement and exhaustion in your bones. You were desperate for rest, to go home and take a shower, crawl in bed and watch terribly written romantic comedies on Netflix until you passed out. If only you could snap your fingers and make those last few minutes fly by, but that was impossible and unfortunately manipulating time wasn’t a superpower you had acquired yet, so instead you swept and mopped the floors for the sixth time that day.

And that was when you heard it. 

The tiny bell over the door chimed, signaling that a customer had just walked in and you could hear the pitter-patter of doggie feet on the linoleum floors. As far as you knew, there weren’t any more customers scheduled for the day; the last appointment was over thirty minutes ago and they were a no-show. From your spot in the back hallway, you could hear your coworker, talking to the patient and before you knew it, she was charging through the back door. You took one look at her, knowing what her question would be before she even opened her mouth. That shit-eating-grin was always plastered on her face when she wanted something. 

“No,” you said as you swept the dirt into the dustpan.

“Come on, bestie,” she whined. “I really need to get out of here on time tonight! It’s just a simple check-up and she seems really nice! Please will you take them?” 

Not wanting to argue or cause an issue, you sighed, exhaling every ounce of oxygen in your lungs before finally giving in. She was practically beaming with excitement as your shoulders slumped, eyes rolling back as you sat the broom down. 

“Oh, my God! Thank you so much! I owe you, big time,” she went to hug you but you stepped to the side, avoiding her embrace at all costs. 

You simply nod at your coworker as you try to dust some of the cat hairs from your scrubs. It was no use, and you knew that, but still, you at least tried to look more professional. After the day you’ve had, you should have known that clocking out on time was just too good to be true, but you still put a smile on your face as you walked up to the front desk. One day you’d cash in on all of the times she owed you for, but today wasn’t that day. Everything that could have gone wrong today had already gone wrong, and at this point you were only giving in to her for the plot. What else could possibly happen? 

When you got to the front desk, you looked over the counter to see the customer on one knee as she played with the tiny puppy; rubbing its belly and tickling its sides. 

“How can I help you?” You asked with that fake customer service voice.

The young woman turned around and looked up at you, flashing one of the most brilliant smiles you had ever seen, and you could have sworn that a chorus of angels were singing in the background– or maybe it was just the classical music on the radio that your boss liked to play, who knows? She was absolutely stunning though, with her pale blonde hair and striking lavender eyes. 

“Hey, uh- I had an appointment for this little guy,” she replied with a soft smile as she moved to stand.

“Okay,” you nodded, trying to remember to breathe. You could smell her perfume as she took a step up to the counter. “What’s this little guy’s name?” 

“His name is Sunfyre.”

“Oh,” you realized that this was that no-show appointment that should have been here thirty minutes ago. It was then that you looked right past her good looks and lilac scented perfume and let the irritation settle back in. “You’re Mr. Targaryen? You had an appointment with us at 5:00.”

The woman rubbed a hand on the back of her neck and gave you a sheepish smile.

“Not Mr. Targaryen, that’s my brother. I’m Helaena,” then she lets out a sigh. “He’s out of town and forgot to mention that I needed to be here until ten minutes before I was supposed to be here and then there was traffic, and I’m really sorry that I’m late. I hope I can still get him in, I mean, if that’s okay. If it’s too late then I’ll just make another appointment, I guess”

Your eyes widened as she rambled on and then you smiled at her. If it were anyone else, you probably would have told them to make another appointment and kick rocks. But this girl was just so gorgeous and her smile was just so beautiful, and your hopes of getting home on time were already sacked, so you led her back to the exam room and told her that it was no problem.

“Hopefully this doesn’t take too long,” she mentioned as she picked Sunfyre up and sat him on the table. 

Wait, was she actually rushing you?

“I’ve got this stupid thing I’m supposed to go to tonight,” she continued as you checked the puppy’s weight.

She really was rushing you.

“It’s a blind date that Aegon, uh-”

Before she could say ‘Mr. Targaryen’, you nodded your head to let her know that you understood who she was talking about. 

“Yeah,” Helaena kept on, not really caring that you weren’t really listening. “He set it up and I’m just nervous. I’ve never really been on a date- well, I’ve been on dates, but never a blind one. With the way this day has been going, he’ll probably end up being an alien with six eyes.”

“I know how you feel,” you mumbled under your breath.

“What’s that?” She asked.

“Oh, I just agreed with you,” you replied, not really wanting to go into details about your day with a girl who was about to go on a blind date and probably fall in love with someone that wasn’t the vet tech with a piss stain on her leg. Besides, her blind date was with a man which meant your chances were pretty much shot. “About the way this day has been going.”

“You’ve had a bad day, too?”

“I’m going to let Dr. Strong know you’re ready and we’ll try to get you out of here as soon as possible,” you say, ignoring her question. 

“Oh, okay. Thanks,” she replied as you shuffled out of the exam room.

Your boss looked up at you from his desk and raised his eyebrows underneath his glasses. You said nothing and only dropped the puppy’s chart on his desk with a thud, before turning back around and heading into the back hallway. You could hear that Helaena girl sweet talking the pup from behind the door and your expression softened for a moment. But that was only until you glanced at the clock and saw that it was well past closing time, and you should’ve been walking through your front door right now; maneuvering out of your bra and kicking off your non-slip, worn out tennis shoes. Your frown came right back as you looked over the front desk, making sure everything was in order before your boss eventually called you in for an extra hand. 

You sighed as you saw that your coworker had bailed on stamping the outgoing bill statements, a job which was tedious and tiring, and usually ended in cramped hands and sticky fingertips. With a soft groan, you sat down, flexing your toes in your shoes and tried to quickly stamp as many envelopes as you could.

“Hey, kiddo,” Dr. Strong called from somewhere within the office. “Can you lend me a hand for a moment?”

You stood up and tossed the envelopes in the mailing bin before heading towards the back hallway. 

“What’s up, doc?” You asked with a forced grin as you tried to lighten the mood. Your boss, Harwin, had been under constant stress ever since his partner veterinarian, Dr. Tully, quit the practice to focus on his family. 

“Can you draw me up 1cc of Nobivac?” He asked as he scribbled something down in the chart in front of him. “And I’m going to need you in the room when I administer it, there’s a note in the little guy’s chart that says he’s not very good with shots.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied as you pulled the keys to the medical cabinet out of the front pocket of your scrubs.

Helaena smiled at you when you entered the exam room once again. The puppy in her hands jumped in your direction, tail wagging from side to side as he whined for attention. “I think he likes you,” the girl commented as she tried to hold the puppy back. 

“That’s nice,” you replied with a soft smile, not really wanting to make small talk with Ms. I-Have-A-Blind-Date-Can-You-Hurry-Up. “But he’s probably not going to like me very much after getting poked.”

“Probably not,” Helaena laughed. You couldn’t help but feel a little light-headed at the sight of her smile, despite your tough facade. The sound of her laugh was just as attractive, if not more so. “But who knows, maybe he’ll forgive you.”

Dr. Strong stepped into the room, cutting your conversation short to begin his own spiel; informing Sunfyre’s short term owner of the possible side effects of the rabies vaccine, and also why it is important to have one. Information that, hopefully, Helaena would pass on to the absent Mr. Targaryen.

While your boss prepped the puppy for his first rabies shot, your job was to try and distract the little guy as much as possible and to keep him comfortable, of course. Helaena stood off to the side, letting the two of you work your magic, and within seconds- without even so much as a yelp- the procedure was finished and Sunfyre’s tail was still wagging. 

“All done,” you cooed, placing a kiss on the puppy’s wet nose. 

“Looks like he still likes you,” Helaena said as she hooked Sunfyre’s leash back to his collar. “I had a feeling he would.”

You went to say something, but Dr. Strong got there first, sticking his hand out to Helaena for a handshake and saying, “It was nice to meet you. Please tell Mr. Targaryan that we look forward to seeing him at the next visit, which you can coordinate at the front desk.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I’ll be sure to let him know.”

“You can follow me, this way,” you told her, ushering her and Sunfyre out of the exam room and into the lobby. “That’ll be $115,” you told her after tallying up the total sum of the visit. 

She let out a low whistle and pulled her wallet from her back pocket, “is there any way to leave a tip for your excellent customer service?”

You let out a dry laugh, and bit the inside of your cheek to keep from saying something that would get you in trouble. “While I appreciate the offer, you should probably save it for your date tonight.” 

“Date?” She asked as she signed the credit card receipt. “Shit, right, my date!” She exclaimed, thrusting the tiny piece of paper your way. “I gotta go!”

You made a face and hurriedly handed her a copy of the bill and a rabies tag for Sunfyre. 

“Good luck,” you told her as she rushed out the front door. “And you're welcome,” you said with a frown after she didn’t even say ‘thank you’. 

Happy that your day was finally over, you couldn’t help but feel like you had just been kicked in the gut. As you finished stamping the monthly statements, your mind was stuck on what Helaena and her blind date– who may or may not be an alien with six eyes– were doing right now. Was he smart? Was he making her laugh? Did he appreciate how absolutely breathtaking her smile was? Did she see him and immediately know that he was the one she had been searching for? Did time stop?

“Hey,” you heard Dr. Strong’s voice from behind you and realized that you had been standing in the same spot for minutes now, holding a stack of envelopes that you had meant to drop into the bin. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you replied as you came back to reality.

“Don’t forget you’re fostering Nugget tonight to make sure that he doesn’t pull out his stitches,” he told you before disappearing back into the hallway. 

“Ah, yes, Nugget,” you replied, mostly to yourself, as you were sure your boss was out of earshot. “The overweight Chihuahua who looks like he ate one, too many nuggets. I couldn’t be more excited.”

After you locked up and had Nugget on a leash, you said your goodbyes to your boss; happy as ever that- even though it was well after dark- you were finally going home. You picked the chunky Chihuahua up, making sure not to touch his freshly removed manhood and placed him in the backseat, where he quickly made a home. Before you even pulled your seatbelt on, you pulled your hair out of its ponytail and ran your fingers over your tender scalp. It was the first step to comfort after what you were sure was the worst days you might have ever had. You’d take your shoes off if you could,, but you were sure there was some crazy law about driving barefoot, so you left them on.

Nugget stayed quiet for most of the way, until he unexpectedly started to whine. Thinking that he might need to go potty, you pulled over into the parking lot of an ice cream parlor. He hopped out of your backseat gingerly, and led you over to the grassy area where he proceeded to squat and relieve himself. 

“Fancy meeting you here,” you heard from across the parking lot and turned to see none other than Mrs. Blind Date herself, Helaena. Just when you thought this day was starting to get better, she began walking toward you with Sunfyre in tow.

“Oh, hi,” you replied, cautiously looking around for the hot shot that would inevitably be introduced as her date. You didn’t want to ask, but curiosity got the best of you and, “how was your date?”

“Well, I was supposed to meet him here and he never showed,” she replied, looking a bit dejected. “I’m honestly not surprised at all. I mean, if you knew my brother, you probably wouldn’t be surprised either. Besides, what else should one expect from a man?” You laughed at that. “I was just about to leave, but then I saw you, and figured I’d say hello.”

You bit your lip to keep from smiling again at her rambling, unable to help yourself when you heard that there was no date, and that this extremely attractive stranger was somehow still single. “Well, hello.”

Helaena smiled brightly before taking notice of Nugget, who was shaking at the thought of being petted by someone new, and dropped down to a knee so that she could reach him. “Who’s this little chunker?”

“This is Nugget,” you replied. “I’m fostering him for the night.”

“Fitting name,” she laughed, standing back to her regular height. “So, can I buy you an ice cream? I don’t think I said thanks before I ran out of your office earlier and I’d like to make it up to you.”

“Sure,” you replied quickly before you gave yourself a chance to say no. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Helaena smiled as you fell in step with each other, making your way to the front of the booth. Sunfyre and Nugget were playing with each other; romping around and playing together; putting you and Helaena into a few awkward positions as you had to unwrap their leashes from around each other’s legs. You learned that she was an artist, mostly oil paintings and photography, who lived on the quiet side of the city with Aegon, her brother. And you told her all about your bad day, and what it was like working in a veterinary office, and some of your funny stories from college. 

Before you could even eat three bites of your ice cream, Nugget had coerced you into giving him most of it; which probably wasn’t what his actual owners intended for him to eat after his surgery. Helaena didn’t mind that the ice cream she had bought for you went to satisfying a fat Chihuahua’s sweet tooth, especially not when most of her own ice cream was being lapped up by little Sunfyre.

“Well, I should get home,” you told her after seeing the neon ‘open’ sign of the parlor shut off. “It’s getting late.” 

She nodded, standing up from the bench that you had been sitting on, “It was really nice running into you.”

“I agree,” you replied with a smile. 

“If you’d like to, maybe I can take you to dinner next?” She asked as she nervously ran a hand through her hair. You blinked a few times, wondering if you had heard her correctly or if it was your mind playing tricks on you. “You don’t have to.”

“I’d like to go to dinner with you,” you told her quickly and honestly. 

“Really?” She asked excitedly. “I mean, that’s cool.”

“Should we?” You asked, taking out your phone to swap numbers and she laughed.

“That’s probably a good idea.”

You repeated the numbers twice to make sure she typed in the right ones, and after an awkward hug that seemed like it was almost a kiss on the cheek, you and Nugget happily walked back to your car. As soon as the driver’s side door was shut, you let out a joyous squeal and did a small dance in your seat. Your phone vibrated from the cup holder as you shifted into gear. You picked it up quickly and swiped at the screen until an unsaved number popped up on your screen. Your heart soared at the message that could only have been from one person.

212-555-6789

That was the best blind date ever! ;)

[maryangelex]

Never Let Me Go

Captain John Price x f!Reader

Part 2 here

Summary: You worked at a coffeehouse, your life is filled with mundanity and you wouldn't change it for anything else. That is, until one crisp autumn morning, you meet the handsome Captain John Price and there’s an immediate, undoubted connection between the two of you.

WC: 3,352

Warnings: fluff, smut in other chapters, cheesy coffee shop au, inaccuracies, soft!price, barista!reader, some reader descriptions, slow romance, pet names, meet-cute.

A/N: Remember that Price series I mentioned? Here ya go!!! Each chapter will be the title of a song I feel is related to it or that I was listening to while writing it hehe so make sure to check that out ;) I'm planning for 6 chapters but there might be more. Smut will happen eventually, of course!

The song for Chapter 1 is I'm On Fire by Bruce Springsteen, but also the covers of it by Awolnation and Gus Dapperton.

Happy reading!!

Dawn was breaking through the clouds. The waking sun broke through grey clouds that poured a steady, incessant shower of rain; the contrast of the glimmering rays against the somber clouds painted a watercolor sky. 

You walked down the cobblestone street, the heel of your shoes clinking with every stride as you walked into the coffeehouse at a speedy pace. It was the middle of autumn, the weather was tepid and chilly. You worked at Roasts & Poets, a hybrid of a cafe and a bookstore that your sweet aunt had left your favorite cousin, and she had been gracious enough to let you run it alongside her. 

Every morning was the same, and you wouldn't change a thing about it. You arrived at the crack of dawn to open the cafe, you were alone until your cousin arrived much later; you had always been more diligent and work-oriented than her when it came to running the cafe. You went through the whole process of the opening shift: setting the chairs and tables, stocking the sugars and napkins, picking up your cousin's slack from yesterday's closing shift, and setting out the freshly baked pastries. 

That's how you start your day every day. Your life was simple yet rewarding. Alone behind the counter, you took in the sight of the deserted shop, the smell of the books on their shelves collecting dust hitting your nostrils while sleep was still weighing down your eyes. The stillness and silence of the shop every morning made you content and warm. 

About half an hour later, your cousin arrived. The energy in her contrasted your mellowness. The minute she walked through the door, the sound of her cheery greeting and of the edge of the door's swing knocking the bell atop it sparked you awake. You gave her a wide smile as she stormed in, the rays of sun being her spotlight. 

"Morning, cuz," she beamed, you returned the greeting mid-yawn, followed by you letting out a loud sigh. She set her coat on the hooks next to the door beside yours -- you two had set those there as a cozy detail for your customers. 

"I had the best night last night," she started, walking towards you behind the counter and tying an apron around her waist the same as you. "Remember that guy I told you about?" 

"The Birmingham one?" you scoffed, remembering the drunken night when your cousin could not stop rambling about the bloke from Birmingham who stood her up.

"No," she rolled her eyes, "the hot one my friend set me up with!" 

You vaguely recalled, giving her an affirmative nod as your eyes drifted up, trying to remember the details of her extensive, messy love life. The two of you had been close and very similar since you were kids, but what stood out between you was how much of a hopeless romantic she was. You were more reserved about it; even though you knew it sounded cliche, you had decided long ago that the right man for you would come to you one day. Your knight in shining armor, your prince charming, perhaps. So you'd rather wait passively for that moment rather than how your cousin approached men head-on. 

You listened to her fawning over her most recent rendezvous with her new suitor, amused and enjoying her experience vicariously. 

As the day progressed, you welcomed and attended more patrons. You and your cousin took turns between taking orders and ringing up anyone who purchased books. There were a few regulars who came in every morning for a quiet space to work in, and others who just liked to lounge and read a book they had purchased along with a coffee in the comfy sofas you and your cousin had picked out when setting up the shop -- you had lost count of how many years ago that had been. 

When the shop was slowing down, you liked to prop your elbow on the counter, resting your chin on your hand as you people-watched. You loved the tranquility of it, thinking about each one's stories, reading them like books. 

One of the regulars was a man who always came in a burgundy knitted sweater and sat down with his laptop and headphones. He was quiet and reserved but always left you gratuitous tips; you knew his order and routine like the back of your hand. Another one was an older lady who always wore something pink, no matter what the rest of her outfit consisted of or what the occasion was. She was kind as well, but when she was feeling chatty she would sit at the counter and talk your ear off; today was a quiet day for her as she sipped her chamomille and read her novellas.   

As much as you enjoyed the peace of the shop, today was not a great day for silence for you. You hadn't gotten the best sleep last night, you had opted for binging the show you had been obsessing over and downed an entire bottle of wine by yourself. So, between your early start to the day and the light thumping of the headache you had medicated was making your eyes heavy with sleep. You couldn't wait for your shift to be over, maybe you would ask your cousin to let you lie down in the back. 

The sound of the bell as the door swung open jolted you awake for the second time today. You stood upright, fixing your posture and glancing at the door to greet the incoming customer. Your eyes captured a man you hadn't seen before around the area. He was tall with a bearded face and had a burly physique, sporting a navy blue sweater and grey coat that matched the beanie he slid off his head. You gave him a welcoming smile, not paying him much mind because of the sleep that still crept into your eyes. He returned the gesture as he made his way across the store, disappearing from your vision. 

You let out a sigh as you rubbed your knuckles into your lids. You desperately need a coffee if you want to get through the day, you thought, turning on your heels to pull yourself two shots of espresso. You poured the shots into a cup of milk you had frothed, making yourself a latte to spark some energy into you. 

As you turned back around to face the counter you were caught off guard by-- 

" 'Scuse me, miss?" a smokey voice startled you, making your body jump in place with a gasp escaping your lips. The latte in your hands splashed in your grasp at the sudden response of your body, its contents lightly spilling over your apron. 

"Shit!" you hissed, setting the cup down on the work counter behind you and grabbing the nearest rag to wipe your hands clean from any coffee that got on them. You looked up to the man across the counter, laughing at yourself in a mix of embarrassment at your clumsiness and lighthearted amusement. 

At that moment, your eyes caught onto the face of the mystery man who had recently walked in. His expression was genuinely concerned and apologetic, truly not knowing what to do with himself as he stood across the counter. 

"I'm so sorry, love, didn't mean to startle you," he stumbled over his words, "you alright?" 

His voice was raspy and deep, sultry even. You noted the details of his face: blue eyes stared back at you, surrounded by long lashes and bushy eyebrows, his pink, velvety lips slightly parted as if having more apologies to let out, his nose pointed and narrow, and his beard neat and full. He was handsome, truly, and you couldn't look away. 

"No worries!" you finally let out, a large smile on your face. "That's what these things are for!" you let out an awkward laugh, too loud to not give away the fact that you were flustered by his looks. Your hands worked the knot of the apron that tied at your waist as you spoke. 

The man let out a nervous chuckle as he watched you, still dumbfounded and itching to help in some way like he was uncomfortable with himself for just standing by.

"What can I help you with, sir?" You asked, tossing the apron in a bin under the counter, where you and your cousin kept any kitchen cloths and rags that needed to be washed after your shift. You didn't break eye contact with the man as you did, you found it impossible to when his blue eyes sucked you like the depth of an ocean. 

The man cleared his throat and fixed his posture, a nervous smile pulling at his bearded cheeks, "I was just wonderin' if y'could help me pick out a book" he pointed his thumb over his shoulders to the shelves behind him, "Any recommendations? 'M not sure where to look."  

You responded with an eager 'of course' as you circled the counter, leading him to the array of shelves. "Are you looking for anything in particular?" 

"Erm, up to your suggestion, really," he stood behind you, letting you take the lead, his eyes weighted on you. You responded with a pensive hum as your eyes scanned the shelves, hand holding your chin. You mumbled something under your breath and moved on to a different shelf. You reached for one of the books and turned back to him, handing the selection over to him. He took it from your hands.

Large hands, you observed. You hadn't realized until now how much taller the man was compared to you. You weren't a petite girl, but, this man stood tall; the way he carried himself proudly made him look even larger. 

He eyed the book, taking a moment to read the cover. He chuckled lightly to himself and glanced over to you. 

"As You Like It," he read. 

"You read it?" you asked a bit flustered, afraid you had made the wrong choice, "I recommend it to everyone." 

"I haven't, actually," he looked over to it again, "Not very well versed in Shakespeare." 

You chuckled a bit, "Well, this is a good one to get you into it." 

"I trust you," he said, a smirk on his face that made your cheeks burn. 

"It can be a bit hard to read but..." you shrugged, "It's one of my favorites." 

"I'll come to you if I need help, then." 

Your stomach fluttered at his words. Was he flirting? Maybe he's just a charming guy, nothing special. 

"Would you like anything else?" you stuttered. His gaze made you shift and adjust yourself, making you feel vulnerable to have it on you. 

"I'd like a tea to keep you company while you finish your coffee if that's alright," he flirted, his husky voice made the hairs on your arms stand up. 

You simply nodded with a smile and he followed you back to the counter. He sat on one of the stools as you stood behind the bar, he had asked you for a black tea and you steeped it for him, setting down a creamer and cup of sugar for him to add to taste. You went back to the latte you had made yourself, pouring it into ice after having let it get cold, and observed the man as subtly as you could manage. You noted he liked his tea on the sweeter side, maybe you would use that information for the next time he came around. You hoped he would. 

You watched as he took a sip from the cup, humming to himself and licking his lips as he set the cup back down. 'Good tea', he said softly as if to himself. You couldn't help but let a smile tug at the corners of your lips; something about him enjoying it was pleasant to you. 

"I'm John, by the way," he spoke up, his arms crossed on the counter. His eyes were on you again, and they were amiable and warm as they held contact with yours. You responded by telling him your name. 

"Are you new around here, John?" you reclined on the counter behind you, your coffee in one hand. 

"I am, I just moved in nearby," he took another sip from his cup. 

"What made you pick this place, if I may ask?" 

"Well, military accommodations, mainly," he cleared his throat. 

Military, you thought. No wonder he was such a large and buff man. You noticed the flexed muscles that bulged under his sweater. That sweater did them no justice, you were sure. 

"So you're a soldier?" 

"Somethin' like that, yeah," he scoffed with a smirk. You gave him a small smile as well but chose not to press any further. 

"What about the shop, what made you come in here?" 

"Seemed like a cozy place to spend the day," he gave you a once over, not very conspicuously, "the pretty barista's a bonus." 

You rolled your eyes at his comment but couldn't help the reddening of your cheeks or the growth of your smile that you tried but failed to suppress. 

At that moment, your cousin walked through the door. John's eyes didn't budge to look at the door, though, they were glued on you. She passed behind him, giving you the most excited expression you had seen on her face thus far, and mouthed something along the lines of 'He is so fit!" as she made her way to the back of the store with bags of ingredients in her hands. You scoffed at her and returned to look at John. 

"You flirt with all the baristas you find pretty, John?" 

"Only the ones that look like you," the man quipped, chuckling lightly to himself as if acknowledging how cheesy he was being. His comment made you laugh wholeheartedly, shaking your head at it.  

John finished his tea and fished into his pocket for his wallet, "I hate to leave, but... how much do I owe you, love?" 

"It's on the house," you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him a cheeky look, "for being a first-time customer." 

John gave you a smile with lightly flushed cheeks himself along with a grateful nod. He left his wallet in his pocket as he stood up from his seat and dressed his head with the beanie he had come in with. 

"I'll come back 'round to tell you how the book's goin'," he signaled the book in his hand on the way out the door, "You make great company, love." 

"Likewise, John," you bit your bottom lip to keep yourself from gushing at his words. You were using every atom in your body to not let yourself completely overflow with glee. 

John gave you a final look and raised his hand goodbye before exiting the shop. You returned the gesture and watched him walk away down the street until he disappeared from your line of sight. 

Once he was gone, you let out a deep breath you didn't know you were holding. You felt your heart skip a beat, maybe two, or even three beats as all the blood from your body surged to your face. Your cousin came skipping giddily from the back of the store, squealing like a schoolgirl as she embraced you. You couldn't help but join her in excitement. The two of you spoke in loud whispers behind the counter.

"That man is in love with you!" 

"Oh, don't be ridiculous, he was just flirting!" 

"Don't you be ridiculous! His eyes were devouring you, idiot! He might as well have fucked--" 

You shushed her loudly and cupped your hand over her mouth, the two of you giggling. You two realized you were still on the clock, with some of the patrons shooting glances at you. It made you both adjust and compose yourselves as best you could, but shot each other knowing looks as you returned to work, cleaning dirty dishes and whatnot. 

"So what's his name?" she asked. 

"John, he just moved around here-- says he's in the military." 

"Agh, hot!" she sang the last word. You rolled your eyes. 

"What book did you give him?" 

"As You Like It" 

"Should've given him Lady Chatterley's Lover, maybe he would've taken the hint," she laughed as you pushed her with a hand playfully. 

The rest of your shift went by uneventfully. You continued to serve more customers, tended to the regulars, and maintained the space. When it was closing time, the rays of the sun entered through the large windows, this time casting the golden glow of dusk. You mopped the floors of the shop and let yourself go deep into your thoughts. 

You thought about John, of course, studying all the details you had taken note of. The way his lashes fanned over his deep, crystal blue eyes; how much care was put into maintaining his facial hair and how soft it looked; how chiseled his nose was; how the sweetness of his smile complimented the sweetness he liked in his tea. He looked much older than you, but you didn't mind the slightest, it was a minor detail to you, if anything. You recalled how he called you pretty, and it made you blush and gave you butterflies. You really hoped he'd come back, but didn't want to disappoint yourself if he didn't.  

Once you two had finished closing, you stood outside the door with your cousin as she turned the key and locked the shop. She continued to tease you about John, making both of you laugh and making you blush with the innuendos and childish taunting she kept telling you. You bid each other farewells until tomorrow, walking your separate directions. 

You lived just a couple of blocks away from the cafe in one of the many apartments nearby. A flat you had all to yourself and you enjoyed the solitude, you had learned to be with yourself from having been your only company, besides your cousin, throughout your life. 

It made you think about the fact that it had been a while since you had liked someone. Did you like John?  The question stood out in your mind. It was definitely too early to tell, you had just met the man quite literally today, hours ago even. But you would be lying if you didn't say you felt some sort of attraction, chemistry between the two of you. Those hopes for seeing him again only grew the more you suppressed them.

But you kept telling yourself 'Don't get too excited,' because you might not see him again, after all. For now, let's simply call it a crush, it's all it was, really. Just a man you found attractive, a kind stranger you made you feel pretty and flattered momentarily, after so long of not hearing any men do so or having their attention.

John certainly gave you a lot of his attention, you thought. Those blue eyes of his. He entrapped you with them. An act as simple as being looked at by him made you feel undressed and vulnerable. 

You shook your head when you were in your flat, just standing there in a trance deep in thought. You sighed and cursed at yourself under your breath. 

You practiced your nightly routine of eating dinner by yourself, showering, dressing in your coziest pajamas, and sitting on your couch alone with either a book or a movie, and maybe a glass of something, maybe wine or a soothing tea.

And for once in your life, you hated being alone.

For once you wished there was someone to keep you company. A company as nice as John had kept you today even if it was brief. You sulked a bit on your sofa as you let that forlorn feeling take over just a little bit. 

And though as much as you loved mundanity, the feeling of having someone new and exciting disrupt your routine sparked a warmth in you. 

God, you hoped you'd see John again. 

[projectionistwrites]

REMINISCENCE

boston!Joel Miller x afab!reader

You and Joel discuss the things you miss most about life before the outbreak.

RATING: EXPLICIT (18+ mdni) WARNINGS: age gap, canon-typical violence, alcohol consumption, SMUT (pornography, unprotected p in v sex, dirty talk, mentions of masturbation) NOTES: this was meant to be a short little drabble, and then it sort of morphed into...whatever this is.

Joel didn’t gain much from his relationship from you—in terms of equity theory, the costs slightly outweighed the rewards when it came to your unorthodox companionship.

But nonetheless, he walked you home from work every single night without fail.

You were a bartender at the local undercover pub—operating (presumably) right beneath FEDRA’s noses, although it was a well-known fact that some of the officers chose to unwind in the forbidden sanctuary that the underground enclave offered.

Free booze. That was Joel’s price. It seemed silly, really—he’d brood silently at the far end of the bar all evening after he’d finished his menial jobs around the city or smuggling-related tasks, watching you smile and interact with the other patrons. He was sacrificing valuable twilight hours by sitting there, waiting for the minutes to roll by until it finally hit 2AM.

Every night as he sat there, listening to your friendly conversations with the other customers, Joel could do nothing but reprimand himself—he was being a fucking idiot, stewing off to the side all night on his lonesome, wasting precious minutes that would better be spent on more labor or catching up on his sleep. This is the last time, he’d tell himself. Get a fucking grip.

But then your gaze would flutter over to him from halfway across the bar, your lips curling up in a delicate smile as your eyes glittered, and his mind went to static. You didn’t look at any of the other patrons that way—all these men pining for your attention, and your eyes only seemed to catch on Joel.

You had to exchange pleasantries with the other customers—had to flirt and smile and giggle in order to earn your keep. But that didn’t stop your attention from constantly straying to the man in the corner, whose dark eyes never left your form as you mixed and served drinks.

Excitement always bubbled in your chest when you heard the telltale clink of his glass hitting the counter, signaling that he’d finished his drink and needed another. It was a momentary escape, a brief but welcomed reprieve from the exaggerated, inauthentic friendly demeanor that you used to placate the crowd—you took your time topping off Joel’s glass, never serving him more than about two-fingers-width worth of liquor in hopes that he’d finish it quickly so you had an excuse to visit his end of the bar again. You never spoke to each other when you were on the clock—you had to give off the impression that you were available, you couldn’t play favorites. But still, you couldn’t help but drift towards him as you wiped down the countertop, looking for absolutely any opportunity to be near him.

But it was the nightly walk home that really kept him coming back.

You were sweet. Painfully so. Bright-eyed and naive and full of life. You made him smile—sometimes, you even made him laugh. He didn’t talk much, but you didn’t mind—you filled the silence between you with mindless chatter, complaining about your job and the difficult customers or sharing stories from your life before the outbreak. Joel could listen to you talk for hours—the dulcet cadence of your voice, the light breathy laughter that escaped your lips, the twinkle in your eye as you walked by his side.

It had started when a FEDRA soldier gave you a hard time about being out past curfew—roughed you up just enough to strike fear in your heart, your temperament at work the following night distraught as you dreaded the trek back to your dingy apartment.

Joel had already been a regular at that point. He was quiet, kept to himself, never shared more than a few brief words before his gaze drifted back down to glare into his liquor, his shoulders seeming burdened with more weight than any one man should be able to carry.

He didn’t give you the same attention that the other men did—maybe that’s why you were so drawn to him. While the other patrons shamelessly flirted with you, making obscene comments and proposals in an attempt to gain your affections, Joel just treated you like a person. Maybe it was that Southern hospitality that you inferred from his Texan drawl, or maybe it was something else. But nonetheless, the mysterious bargoer was the first person to notice your change in demeanor.

“Y’alright?”

He’d asked as your trembling hands tilted the bottle of amber liquid to refill his empty crystal glass. Your eyes darted to his face at the question—it was the first time he’d ever gone out of his way to speak with you, never offering a word unless he was prompted.

You gulped, setting the bottle back down behind the counter with a slight clang. Your gaze nervously scanned over the crowded room, fearing that someone might catch you with your guard down. Luckily, the patrons all seemed to be wrapped up in their own conversations, so you allowed yourself to indulge Joel with an honest response. When you looked back at him, his dark brown eyes were already fixed on your face.

“FEDRA’s getting antsy. An officer stopped me on my way home, last night—confiscated my cards for being out past curfew, said the consequences'd be worse if it happened again.”

You’d admitted quietly, and Joel could see the fear that was crawling beneath your skin, threatening to claw through your flesh. His heavy brows furrowed.

“How far’s home?”

He asked, and you bristled, not particularly keen on the idea of sharing such personal information with someone who was practically a stranger.

He must’ve sensed his misstep and quickly backpedaled.

“Sorry. Didn’t mean to—”

“It’s a few blocks west of here, by the outpost.”

You weren’t sure what had compelled you to share such intimate details with him, but clearly it had been the right call. He nodded carefully, lifting his new drink to his lips and taking a swig before he acknowledged you again.

“My place’s on the way. I can walk you home, if ya want.”

That was nearly six weeks ago—now, it had become routine. In exchange for his chivalry, you'd offered him a night of bottomless drinks—when he realized this could be an ongoing perk, you were quick to accept his continued companionship on your midnight commutes. FEDRA soldiers knew better than to confront him about violations of curfew, so you were safe from further disturbances when accompanied by his presence.

Tonight was no different. The crowd of drunk customers was beginning to thin out as you made the announcement for last call. When the last patron finally stumbled up the stairs and out of the bar, Joel watched your shoulders sag with resignation, relieved to be free from another grueling shift.

He downed the remnants of his third pour of whiskey and stood up, stretching his legs out for the first time in hours. He wordlessly slipped behind the counter beside you to rinse and clean his own glass in the sink, watching you slump against the counter out of his periphery.

“What a long fucking day.”

You grumbled, your voice losing the artificial peppiness that you struggled to maintain in front of your customers. Joel let out a breathy chuckle as he returned his cleaned glass to the correct shelf, turning towards you.

“Then let’s get you home, darlin’.”

He’d had a rough couple of days. The night before, you’d panicked when he failed to show up by midnight—he was rarely later than ten-thirty, and his absence was enough to send you into a worried spiral.

When he’d finally stumbled through the doors, there was dried blood beneath his fingernails and a bruise forming across his jaw. As soon as he saw the unfettered alarm in your gaze, he felt guilt consume him. You were worried about him.

He struggled to sit at his usual stool, grunting as pain flared in his ribs at the movement. You were in front of him in an instant, sliding a glass of whiskey and an ice pack wrapped in a towel across the bar to him.

“Where the fuck have you been?”

You’d challenged harshly, but your voice betrayed you—although you’d attempted to convey your anger, the anxiety in your wavery tone was indisputable. Joel’s gaze dropped as he reached for his glass.

“Trade went bad.”

He offered simply, cringing slightly at the burn of the liquor at the back of his throat. When his eyes found yours again, there were tears forming across your lower lashes, and he let out a long sigh. His fingers brushed over yours as he reached for the ice pack, gaze soft as he leaned a bit closer to you.

“M’alright, darlin’. Everythin’s okay.”

Still, you could tell he was on edge, even if he refused to admit it. So, the next evening, you stopped him right before you could part ways at the entrance to your building.

“I have a surprise for you.”

You wiggled your brows theatrically as you plopped your backpack down at your feet, leaning down to unzip it and reach into the main pouch. Joel forced his eyes away from where your cleavage exposed itself to him as you bent over.

When you straightened again, you were holding a glass bottle of amber liquid, a triumphant smile on your face as you held it out for him expectantly. His brows furrowed, but when he reached for the bottle and inspected the label, his brows shot up to his forehead.

“Macallan?”

He questioned in awe, his eyes wide as they flitted back to you. Your smile was dazzling as you beamed up at him, anxiously awaiting his approval as you bounced on the balls of your feet.

“How the fuck did you swing this one?”

“Flashed my boss.”

You shrugged nonchalantly, and Joel immediately sputtered, eyes blowing wide. You just laughed at his obvious discomfort, reaching to rest a hand on his forearm in an attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, relax. I grabbed some nice glasses from the bar, too—why don’t you come up and have a drink with me? A nightcap on the roof.”

Joel hesitated. The two of you had gotten markedly closer in the weeks you’d known each other—you’d met Tess, and his brother Tommy, and he even trusted you enough to key you in on his illegal smuggling activities. But still, neither of you had ever interacted outside of the bar or your nightly walks home—this was uncharted territory.

Just as he was about to object, to deny your request and head back home, his eyes met your wide, hopeful gaze as you looked up at him so innocently. He let out a long breath through his nose before he finally nodded.

“Yeah, okay. Just one drink.”

That’s how Joel found himself here, sitting atop the concrete roof of your apartment complex, leaning back against the half-wall that corralled the stairs that led up from the top floor to the roof. You were splayed out to his left, taking careful sips of your liquor as the midnight breeze tickled your skin and left goosebumps in its wake.

The night was calm—or, at least, as calm as it could be in the Boston QZ. Distant gunshots interrupted the quiet, but neither you or Joel even flinched at the sound. Your arm was brushing against his from how close you sat together, and Joel was surprised to feel an uneasy sense of comfort wash over him as he relaxed in your company.

You drew in a slow breath before you tilted your head to gaze at him, a small smile gracing your features.

“What do you miss most about life before the outbreak?”

Joel’s entire body stiffened at your question—it was an unspoken rule between the two of you. Joel didn’t talk about his past, and you didn’t pry.

You quickly backpedaled, laughing sheepishly.

“I don’t mean who do you miss or shit like that, just—the mundane things. Things we took for granted. I miss the drive-in movie theater. Tonight would be the perfect weather to go see a show.”

Joel felt his lip twitch up at the corner on its own volition, your eyes fixed up at the night sky as your tone turned nostalgic. He took another sip of his whiskey, the taste deep and rich and smooth.

“I miss good liquor.”

He offered lazily, and you elbowed him lightly in the side.

“Hey, that doesn’t count. I got you good liquor. Sure, it cost me my dignity, but it was worth it.”

Joel laughed, then—a deep, genuine chuckle, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he looked at you.

“You really did that? Lifted up your shirt for your boss just to get your hands on the good stuff?”

You nodded cheekily, a mischievous gleam in your eyes as you grinned wickedly up at him. He chuckled again.

“Thought you were a good girl.”

He muttered, more to himself than anything, and you felt your face flood with heat at his grumbled statement. You ignored the way his words made something stir between your legs and nudged him again.

“Come on, I’m serious. What else do you miss?”

He pondered for a moment, tilting his head back to rest against the concrete behind him. There were a lot of simple things he missed about the past.

“Miss barbecues.”

He offered, and you seemed pleased with that response, letting out a giddy squeal as you agreed enthusiastically.

The conversation continued on easily for a long while—reminiscing about your previous lives, offering suggestions back-and-forth. Hot showers. Chapstick. Birthday cards. Summer block parties. Board games. Holidays. The smell of clean laundry. Road trips. Celebrity gossip.

Half the bottle of liquor was gone when you became too emboldened.

“I miss porn.”

You heard Joel choke on his drink as he coughed, lifting a hand to cover his mouth as he attempted to swallow down his shock. Your cheeks flooded with heat at your own confession, surprised at your own brazenness as the man beside you shifted uncomfortably.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean—that was kind of out of the blue. I’m sorry.”

Joel shook his head, although he averted his eyes from you.

“No, s’alright, just—wasn’t expectin’ that.”

Joel tried to hide his surprise. He wasn’t uncomfortable—just the opposite, actually. He was dumbfounded—you? Watching porn? Surely not. Not sweet, naive, innocent you.

He could feel the embarrassment radiating off of you as you looked down sheepishly, obviously regretting your admittance. It was shocking—the woman who flirted with all her patrons, who made a show of seducing each man she served, blushing relentlessly at the mere mention of something lewd.

You stared down at where your hands were folded in your lap, fingers fiddling together anxiously as you tried to think of something to say that would salvage the conversation. To your surprise, Joel beat you to the punch.

“I guess I didn’t realize... I mean, how old even were you when everythin’ happened?”

Neither of you were oblivious to the clear age gap between the two of you, but still, his question somewhat offended you. You scoffed slightly.

“I was twenty. I wasn’t a kid.”

Joel lifted his hands up in surrender.

“No, no, ’m not sayin’ that you were, I just—guess I didn’t expect you to—”

“—to have watched porn?”

You finished for him, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat as he swallowed thickly. He nodded, and you let out a breathy laugh, turning your gaze back to the hazy night sky.

“I had an older brother. Snuck into his room one time when I was, like, sixteen, and found some raunchy tapes under his bed that he rented from Family Video. Some stupid adult films.”

You explained, your embarrassment somewhat dampened by the alcohol surging through your bloodstream.

“It was funny. There was this one video that I really liked, so I kept it, and then my parents got this huge bill from the store because my brother didn't return it on time. What a fuckin’ idiot, renting porn using my mom’s credit card.”

You giggled at the memory, looking back fondly on your time with your family. You had moved to Boston for college when the outbreak happened, and you never did find out what happened to them when everything fell apart.

Joel’s voice broke you from your stupor.

“D’they ever find out it was you?”

You laughed again.

“Nope. It’s probably still under the mattress in my childhood bedroom. Watched that thing too many times to count.”

An easy silence fell over you, and you took in a few deep breaths of crisp night air, eyes fluttering shut as you leaned backward against the wall.

“It’s your turn.”

You prompted Joel, reminding him that he was up next to share something he missed from his past.

“What was it?”

He asked instead, and you blinked your eyes open, turning your neck to face him only to find his gaze already on you. Your brows furrowed.

“What was what?”

You asked for clarification, and you saw his jaw tick slightly.

“The video that you kept. What was it?”

You felt your lips part in surprise as your breathing stalled, face flushing crimson at his question.

“You—I mean—”

“M’just curious.”

He shrugged indifferently, facing forward again, but your heart was still hammering against your ribcage.

“If you liked it enough to keep it, must’a been good."

You swallowed, eyes falling to your hands once again before you finally responded.

“Honestly, I don’t even remember the plot. The guy in it, he was just—he was loud. He talked a lot, and the sound of his voice really did something to me.”

You offered sheepishly, voice faint and breathy as you recounted the film. Joel hummed in response, seemingly unbothered by the explicit content of the conversation, but you would be lying if you said that discussing sex with Joel didn't make your pulse jump.

“I didn’t even need to really watch it. Sometimes I’d sit with my back to the TV and just listen, and—well, you know.”

Joel felt his already hardening cock twitch in the confines of his jeans as he imagined you with your legs spread wide, hand shoved hastily into your pants as you played with yourself, eyes closed as you listened to the porno guiding your movements.

“What was it about his voice? Somethin’ special?”

“I don’t remember.”

You answered a bit too quickly, your response jumbled and rushed. Joel immediately noticed, his eyes landing on your face to see your bottom lip pulled between your teeth as you refused to look at him, clearly embarrassed. He didn’t push it, even if he knew you were lying.

Again, another long bout of silence, the air between you thickening with tension, although something had shifted. The awkwardness in the space was wavering, replaced with something heavier, something deeper.

“I miss sex.”

You thought your neck was going to break from how quickly your head jerked to gawk at Joel, who had muttered the sentence so coolly that you were almost certain you had misheard. He didn’t look at you—kept his eyes straight forward, focused on some point off in the distance. Your fingers curled into the flesh of your thighs, trying to fight off the budding desire that was tingling lowly between your legs.

“You—but you have Tess, right?”

Your voice sounded small, meek, and Joel huffed out an indignant laugh, shaking his head somewhat ruefully.

“No. S’not like that. We’re just—partners. Keep the bed warm for each other. Nothin’ else.”

Oh.

That caught you off guard. You’d assumed the pair had been a couple, or at the very least fuckbuddies, but Joel’s confession caused butterflies to erupt in the pit of your stomach.

“What about you?”

He pressed, and you felt your lungs collapse as you struggled to breath, his dark gaze pinning you down.

“Me?”

He chuckled somewhat condescendingly, his lip pulled up at the corner.

“Yeah. You miss sex?”

Your eyes darted away from his face, swallowing harshly.

“I don’t know. Only happened a few times, with my high school boyfriend back home. Wasn’t anything great.”

You explained, and Joel hummed, relishing in the way your voice wavered and your eyes darted around nervously, lashes fluttering.

“He ever give you an orgasm?”

Joel’s casualness startled you, his language so lewd and crass that you did a double take. Your cheeks burned even brighter as you pressed your hands to your face, shielding yourself from his judgmental stare.

“No. Always had to finish myself off.”

You finally admitted, trying to ignore the way you could feel Joel's body heat radiating from beside you. "And lately, too, it’s been—it sucks. Getting off, I mean. My brain is always somewhere else. That’s part of the reason I miss porn, I guess. It’s hard to take your mind out of all of this. I can never focus long enough to actually...”

“Cum?”

Joel's voice was low as he finished your sentence, and you nodded breathlessly, somewhat bashful at your admittance.

“Yeah. And skin mags don’t help, either. It always helped when I could hear it, y’know? More than just watch. It helped me stay in the moment, I guess. More immersive.”

You shrugged, and you could feel his dark eyes boring into you as you looked down.

“You’ve got a line of men a mile long who’d jump at the chance to be with you, darlin’. You got the choice of any guy in that entire bar.”

“Not any guy.”

You corrected before you could realize your mistake. You felt Joel’s body stiffen beside you, and you outwardly grimaced, quickly catching on to the fact that you’d basically just outright confessed your feelings for the man beside you—the one man in the entire QZ who seemed completely uninterested in you.

“You were lyin’ earlier.”

You blinked away your confusion as your eyes flitted to his face—he was watching you carefully, his hands resting on his jean-clad thighs as he regarded you, his eyes dark and somewhat daunting. You swallowed.

“’bout not rememberin’ why you liked that guy’s voice so much. You can’t say you watched that porno more times than you n’count and then not remember why.”

Your eyes darted away, but then you felt warm, calloused fingers slip beneath your chin and coax your head back towards him, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He was leaning in closer to you now, close enough that you could smell the sting of booze on his breath and see the spatter of freckles that spilled across his nose.

“So tell me, darlin’. Why'd you like the way he talked so much?”

Joel knew the answer. He’d noticed the way your eyes always settled on his lips when he spoke, how you always turned bashful when his Texas charm bled through into his words.

“I—it was—it was called The Bone Ranger. Y’know, like—like the kitschy old Western show. The guy, he was—he was a cowboy.”

“So then what accent did he have, huh, sweet thing?”

You resisted the urge to squeeze your eyes shut in shame, clenching your jaw harshly as you opened your mouth. You could tell he already knew the answer—must’ve had a sneaking suspicion from the start, especially when he factored in the way you always seemed to swoon when he called you darlin’.

“I—he had a Southern accent.”

The satisfied smirk that curled on Joel’s lips made your blood boil, humiliation making your cheeks warm even hotter as your face contorted into a look of discomfort, feeling shameful and dirty.

But Joel smiled at you. Really smiled. It was somewhat wicked—a devilish sort of grin, one that awoke something deep within your core. His eyes were wild, darkened with something almost feral.

“Yeah, I bet he did. Do I remind you of him, darlin’? You like the way I talk?”

His voice dropped to a low timbre, barely more than a throaty growl, his Texan drawl exacerbated by the lust that coated his tongue. You couldn’t help but whimper at his teasing, your gaze instinctually falling from his eyes to glance at his lips.

“Bet I can make sure you stay in the moment. Help you focus. Make you cum.”

The squeak that passed through your lips was almost inhuman, and for a moment, you didn’t even realize that it was you who had made the sound. But then Joel was smirking at you again, and in an instant you were on him, fingers skating across his shoulders as your lunged to kiss him.

He met you with equal fervor, shifting slightly to pull you atop his lap, your legs sliding to cage in his waist as your fingers threaded into his graying hair. His hands pressed into you, burning your skin with each move as he grabbed at your waist, hips, thighs, ass, anything within his reach as he licked into your mouth, pressing you as close to him as physically possible.

“Oh, God—please, Joel.”

You weren’t entirely sure what you were even begging for, but when Joel pulled away long enough to glance at you through hooded eyes, gaze swimming with intoxication from both desire and alcohol, it was like he could read your mind.

“ ’ve got you, darlin’. Let me take care a’you.”

Joel lifted up his knees, allowing you to lean back slightly against his muscular thighs as you grinded your core against the sizable bulge in his worn jeans. With your weight leaned backwards, Joel matched your pace with slow, deep grinds of his hips, his cock pressing against your clit as he rutted upwards.

“Mmm.”

Joel hummed, experienced hands spread against the expanse of your back as he guided you forward for another searing kiss, swallowing the whine that passed through your lips. You squirmed when his fingers began to explore, skimming across your sides before his thumbs swept just beneath the swell of each of your breasts. Your chest immediately pushed into his hold, making him chuckle.

“Take it off for me, then. Lemme see you.”

In a matter of seconds, you were ripping the heather gray shirt from your body, tossing it carelessly to the side and letting your head fall back with a soft sigh. You squeezed your eyes shut tight so you didn’t have to see Joel’s face when he finally looked at you, but he caught on to this action quickly.

His left head reached to cup the back of your head and force it to face forward, your eyes fluttering open to meet his—his pupils were blown wide, gleaming devilishly as he slowly let his gaze draw a line down your sternum and across your newly exposed breasts. A growl rumbled in his chest.

“Filthy little thing, aren’t ya? No bra, wanted everyone in the bar to see those pretty little nipples through that thin shirt?”

There was a sort of anger laced in his words, his brows lowered as his thumbs brushed across both of your nipples with a featherlight touch, both of the nubs peaking instantaneously.

Part of you wanted to shake your head, to prove to him what a good girl you are, but instead, you let out a breathy giggle.

“I told you I flashed my tits for the boss—had to get the right liquor to convince you to come up here.”

Joel's eyes narrowed, and you hummed when he shifted one of his hands came to wrap around your delicate throat.

“You wanted me to come up here to fuck you, huh? S’that it? Sweet thing, all you had to do was say please.”

Your fingers curled into his t-shirt as you pulled him towards you, pressing your lips to him again. His teeth sank into the flesh of your lower lip, sucking it gently. He pulled away just long enough to discard his own shirt, his weathered skin hot against your abdomen.

“He didn’t deserve to see you—didn’t appreciate these pretty tits, did he?”

His lips traced a sloppy line down your throat before wrapping around your right nipple, rolling it between his teeth. You cried out, your arousal beginning to soak a wet patch straight through your jeans, skin prickling with electricity.

His other large hand kneaded the flesh of you left breast as he ravished the right one with his tongue, your back arching into his hold.

“God, fuck—need you so bad, Joel, please.”

A dark chuckle vibrated over your skin, causing you to shiver. He stared up at you through his lashes, pulling his mouth away a leaving your skin shining with his saliva.

“Yeah? You wan’ me t’fuck you, darlin’? Wan’ me to stretch ya out over my cock?”

His voice was gravelly and low, words slightly slurred through his thickening accent.

“I’m ready for you, please, please—always been ready for you—”

He shushed you quietly, straightening his legs and flipping you over gently to lay you on your back. You nearly blacked out as you felt him peel the denim from your legs, your panties with them. You stared straight up at the night sky, stars twinkling as you listening to the clink of his belt and slide of his zipper before he was on top of you, his cock nestling against your lower stomach as he leaned in for a kiss.

“Yeah, gonna give it to you good, darlin’—you just lay there and take it.”

He lifted himself off of you just enough to guide his cock through your slick folds, the smooth head tapping against your clit before sliding down to your entrance.

“Sweet, innocent little girl, thinkin’ about me fuckin’ ’er every night in the bar.”

You squirmed at his taunting, cheeks ablaze.

He let out a breathy groan.

“Fuck yeah.”

He muttered lowly, slipping just the tip through your quivering hole. Almost immediately, you were clenching around him, your body tense and resisting the intrusion. He tutted at you, and you felt tears of both shame and desire flood your eyes.

“S’okay, sweet thing.”

He cooed, his demeanor suddenly softer, comforting.

“Gotta relax. ’ve got you. Jus’ focus on the sound of my voice.”

Your bleary eyes zeroed in on his face, the slight curl of his lip upwards as he sank a few more inches of his thick cock into you, burning with the stretch. You hadn’t had someone inside you in so long, and never anyone as big as him.

“Shh, shh—doin’ so good for me, darlin’. Fuck, tha’s a tight little cunt. You can take it.”

A pained groan blew through your lips as he proceeded forward, your walls squeezing around him until he was finally fully seated inside of you. A long, drawn-out groan escaped his throat as he pressed himself against you, his heavy balls nestled against your ass.

“Yeah, that’s it—you feel that? Feel how deep I am?”

You gasped when Joel reached between you and pressed a hand against your lower abdomen, feeling the bulge of his girth stretching you open.

“Fuck, yes—”

As soon as your cunt fluttered around him, finally accommodating his length, he offered a few shallow thrusts, his tip kissing your cervix with each movement. You mewled against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders.

“Yeah, there we go—”

Finally, Joel began to fuck you. He pulled out almost entirely before forcing his entire length back into your awaiting channel, your wetness leaking around his cock and dripping down your crack onto the concrete beneath you. The cement scratched at your bare back, but you couldn’t even feel it—Joel’s fat cock overwhelmed all of your sense and left you a drooling, crying mess.

“Yeah, fuck yeah, darlin’—so fuckin’ tight aroun’ me. Always wanted to ruin you, y’know that? Knew you’d make the prettiest little sounds, knew you’d—fuck, knew you’d squeeze me so tight.”

Each of his quickening thrusts was punctuated by a high pitched moan from your lips, your tits bouncing with each motion. His fingers began to messily circle your clit as your eyes rolled back, surrendering yourself to Joel’s control and the impending orgasm that was building within you. He pressed his lips to your ear, groaning against you.

“Yeah, gonna make you cum, darlin’—fillin’ you so good, fuckin’ you nice and deep—jus’ like you wanted, jus’ like you deserve, yeah? Fuck, oh, baby—mmm—not gonna let anyone touch you again, not gonna—not gonna let anyone look at you again—pussy’s too fuckin’ good, s’all mine, s’all—fuckin’—mine—”

You let out a shriek as your climax peaked, Joel’s dirty tongue sending you over the edge as your walls clenched around him. Your vision turned white as your toes curled, your nails sinking into the meat of his shoulders as he continued to pound into you through your orgasm, sweat beading at his hairline.

“Oh, fuckkk—yeah, yeah, jus’ like that—keep squeezin’ me like that and I’m gonna—”

His pace turned frantic, his thrusts so harsh they were almost painful as he reached the deepest part of you, prolonging your orgasm and making heat coil in your core.

“Give it to me, Joel.”

It was barely a whisper, your throat hoarse and utterly wrecked, but Joel's body tensed above you.

“Yeah, gonna—gonna give you this fat fuckin’ load, baby—mm, mm, gonna—gonna cum inside you, fill you up so full—ah, fuck, m’gonna cum, m’gonna—”

His words were interrupted by an involuntary growl as he thrusted once, twice more, before seating himself fully inside of you.

“Oh, m’cummin’ baby, fuckin’—shit—”

He exploded within your walls, his white hot seed filling you in sporadic spurts, each one punctuated by a roll of his hips into you, a mixture of both your arousals creating a stickiness around his cock.

He rolled off of you almost immediately after, bare back against the cool concrete. Another series of gunshots rang out in the distance—all you could hear was Joel’s breathing.

Silence permeated the twilight air, and you felt your chest tighten with each passing second. He was staring straight up at the sky, unwavering, brows furrowed in thought.

“I didn’t get the whiskey just so you would—you know...”

The moment you started talking, you regretted it, trailing off slowly and averting your gaze from him when his neck turned to look at you. You sheepishly sat up, reaching for your t-shirt and holding it to your chest protectively.

“It was more of a—more of a thank you, really, for—for making sure I get home safe.”

Joel nodded slowly, his lips pursed slightly—already, you could see the ghost of regret dancing behind his eyes.

Again, the night was quiet as you both got dressed, the only sound from the rustling of clothes and the clink of Joel's belt. Part of you was still reeling from the unexpected turn of events—the other part of you was ashamed and embarrassed and horrified.

“Thanks.”

You whispered in acknowledgement, and he nodded curtly.

“Glad we could help each other out.”

It was like he’d just finished with a business deal—a transaction.

When you were both fully clothed, you wordlessly began descending the stairs, Joel trailing behind as he walked you to the front door of your apartment. It was the second door to the left on the fourth floor.

As the door swung open, you paused in the threshold. You contemplated your words for a moment before sighing.

“You know what else I miss?”

Joel’s big brown eyes turned soft once again as they locked with your glassy gaze.

“I miss flirting. And dating, and—and holding hands, and romance—”

You blew out a breath, infuriated with yourself—because of the tears trailing down your cheeks, because you gave yourself up so quickly, so easily, and all it took was a man with nice hands and brown eyes and a Texas drawl that sort of resembled a porno—

You almost flinched when you felt his left hand reach up the cradle your cheek, his touch impossibly gentle and completely out-of-character. You felt the pad of his thumb swipe the tears from beneath your eyes as he leaned in—

And then something hardened in his gaze—like he was remembering himself, pulled from a stupor. A shadow crested his features as his expression turned stony.

His arm dropped back to his side, and he took a step back, his hands slipping into his pockets as he regarded you one last time.

“See ya tomorrow.”

His heavy boots grew quieter as he walked the length of the hall, and you finally let the door click shut between you.

The truth hurt—all the things you missed, you took for granted, gone and left behind in a time forgotten.

Really, though, what you missed most of all, was love.

[hyunfilms]

blue side of the sky (lmh) | twenty one. (final)

♡ spotify playlist | series masterlist

—summary: waking up after 3 months with no recollection of your past, your friends do what they can to help you remember. except, they omit an important piece to the puzzle - afraid you would remember the heartbreak and hurt all over again.

—pairing: lee know x f. reader

—genre: (18+) exes to lovers, bestfriends to lovers au | fluff, angst, smut

—word count: 4.4k

—chapter content/warnings: not much, really just wrapping everything up mainly for these three, some crying, overwhelming feelings of nostalgia and missing someone, two cute flashback scenes

☁︎ on rotation: magic hour - jhene aiko

—a/n: thank you again for coming along on this journey <33 i appreciate you, and the support always means so, so much to me 🩵 i'll be back with chan's fic soon. 🥰

As the days go by, you find yourself feeling better in your own skin than you were a year ago. Despite the troubles you had endured, you feel like you're finally where you need to be. Things feel settled, time seems to be moving slower, your relationships traversing on calm waters. Because the flower shop had been booming with more customers and clients, Mrs. Pak made you lead florist while she hired another part-timer, Bora, who helped in between her classes. You're mainly at the shop, preparing pre-ordered bouquets and setting some aside for grabs at the store; while the other half of your time is now spent traveling to venues to set up for special events. You've greatly appreciated the bump in responsibilities, enjoying that most of your time is spent doing what you love. During nights or weekends that you are free, you occasionally head to the pottery studio to continue creating pieces to add to your collection or sell.

As for Minho, the time felt like it did you well. But in a sense where you were able to say your peace to the past, where you were able to process the highs and the lows in that chapter with Minho. Though things changed the trajectory of everything, Minho has never left your side. He continued to create enough distance until you were ready to bring him closer, always ready to support you in any way that he could. But, there was never any pressure to be more, to be less. Minho let you be and that's because he loved you;

And he loved you enough to let you go.

Loved you enough to let you properly conquer this world without him holding you back.

In the end, you will always love Minho, but you're realizing that loving him as who you are now, as where you are now, as his bestfriend, will always be more than enough. So you let it sit the way it is now, afraid to force something that wasn't meant for the next chapter of your life.

In the end, you will have Minho the way the universe allows you to, and vice versa. 

In the end, you'd rather have a part of him than lose him at all. 

"Hey." You pick up the call, gathering some last minute items and tossing them into your bag.

"Hey, I'm out front." Minho says on the other line while he shuffles around in his car.

"Okay, I'll be right there."

"Take your time." You purse your lips together before ending the call. You run your chapstick across your lips once more before grabbing your bag and heading out of the door. You walk through the side door seeing Minho relaxing in the driver's seat— scrolling through his phone. Since it's been a good amount of time, your stomach no longer drops when you see him, heart no longer feels like it's beating out of your chest, palms no longer wet and sweaty from anxiety. 

And it feels nice. 

Refreshing.

Peaceful.

"Hey." He says, turning to you as soon as you swing the door open and settle into the passenger's seat. You give him a tiny smile before buckling in your seatbelt. "All good?"

"Yeah, I'm good."

"Is it too warm?" Minho adjusts the heat slightly.

"No, it's good. It's perfect." He nods, driving off to your childhood neighborhood. "Cafe is okay? Surprised you were able to run off." 

"Mhm. Yeah well, JJ's got it, plus we hired another person to help out. It's been pretty smooth lately."

"That's good. Then, you're able to do more for your dance group and the studio, right? Just like you wanted?" He nods.

"Yeah, I am. We're finishing up for our competition next weekend."

"I'm glad you have more time for that now. I'm sure it'll go great."

"How's the shop and Mrs. Pak? Still busy, I'm assuming?" You sigh and let out a chuckle.

"Yeah, it's booming lately. But, Bora's been a lot of help when I can't be around so I'm grateful for her. I was just afraid of Mrs. Pak having to handle a lot on her own again."

"I'm sure she appreciates everything you do for her and the shop." You nod.

"I have to travel next weekend. The client that hired us for the event is about 2 hours away."

"You'll be okay?"

"I'll be okay. I know I can call you guys if anything comes up."

"Okay." He looks at you, content with your answer. And when Minho looks at you, he still sees love, feels love. 

He always will. 

But, he's also gotten to understand what it truly means to put you first, to put your needs above his own, to be your bestfriend. For a moment, he felt lost when you distanced yourself; no longer by his side like you used to be. He wondered how he could salvage everything and fix the problems overnight to bring you close again. He wondered what he could do differently this time, wondered how he should act, how he should talk, how he could paint himself in a different picture. He felt exhausted from trying to control every single aspect of life, micromanaging every little detail he could. 

Then, he realized the answer was in front of him this entire time. He realized how much he was holding you back when you started to smile more, when you started to laugh and move with grace more comfortably; dancing along with the wind, while your eyes held more life than they used to. He realized you needed to shape your own life outside of him, outside of Jisung and your friends, outside of Uncle Adrian.

Create your own version of the greenest grass, the bluest skies, the starriest nights.

This is the unconditional love you needed, even if it was from a distance.

As he continues to drive, he peeks over from time to time, watching as you keep your eyes glued to the surroundings as it passes by. He can't really tell if things are starting to feel familiar, or if you are trying to dig deep within yourself to find that familiar feeling. Overall, you seem to be content, and you don't seem to be regretting your decision of asking Minho to take you here.

When Minho finally drives down a familiar street, he slows his speed a bit; pointing towards certain places while telling you as much as he remembers from his own memory. Although Minho wasn't a part of your life during this point of your childhood, you and Jisung used to take him to this neighborhood pretty often— bringing you to the convenience store you always hung out at, the grocery store your families frequented, the park that had the monkey bars you and Jisung used to fight over. Even though he wasn't there, he felt included. Always.

"You guys took me here quite a few times." Minho points at the convenience store. "We'd go in there and spend our spare change because they had $1 surprise gifts." Minho chuckles a bit. "We'd get a range of things, like random sticker books. Bracelets. Keychains. You even got lucky once and got your favorite pink pencil case out of that." You giggle.

"I still have that sitting on my desk." He nods.

"Yup. We'd spend so much visiting there. They always had our favorite snacks. Sometimes, there would be a hotteok cart nearby. It stopped coming after awhile though." He turns down a road that leads into a residential area. Most of the houses were designed similarly, probably having the same layouts and just enough rooms for families to live comfortably. It's a quiet street, barely any kids playing out front or around on the block. Minho parks his car along the curb, pointing at the park that's a bit of a walk down a path into the middle of the area. "Wanna talk a walk to the park with me?" He looks at you as he unbuckles his seatbelt.

"Sure." He gives you a small smile before heading out of the car, finding his place next to you as you stand and breathe in the crisp fresh air. He digs his hands into his jacket pockets, careful to not walk too quickly. You finally catch wind of a few kids playing around at the park while their parents hang around. Minho chuckles a bit when he hears a child screaming and laughing while their father spins them around on the roundabout; pleading for their dad to go faster.

"Jisungie hated that thing. Even when we'd come here in high school."

"Let me guess, he almost fell off of it." 

"Yup." He lets out a breath. "Anyway, you and Jisung grew up at this park. When we came here all together, we'd play around on the monkey bars and wait for the ice cream truck to come. That ice cream truck sold the specific brand of strawberry shortcake ice cream you loved so much. You refused to buy anything else."

"You know, now that you mention it, I haven't had that in awhile." You giggle and kick at the leaves beneath your feet, eyes now darting to the kids chasing each other around the park.

"You loved that ice cream." He walks over to the tree on the opposite side. "We used to play the dumbest games here, like tag. Hopping from bridge to bridge, trying not to step on the ground or else we'd be out." You laugh.

"Everything sounded so fun."

"And chaotic." You watch as he looks at the tree bark, running his fingers across the surface before calling you to his side. "Come look at this."

"Hm?" You hum, walking around to stand next to him. You let out a small gasp seeing your names carved messily onto the bark, the 'o' shape on your mouth slowly forming into a tiny smile. "This was in high school?"

"Yup. We spent a lot of good times here." You look at him. "Ready to walk to your house? It's just down this way." He points towards the ongoing path behind him.

"Mhm." You nod. 

The walk is quiet, but it's a comfortable silence that falls between you and Minho. It's quick anyways, especially being that you thoroughly enjoy taking in the fresh air while observing your surroundings. You can hear the birds chirping amongst the trees that line the pathway, the dirt beneath your feet with every step. You follow Minho as he turns down the corner and stops, pointing at a dark brown, ranch-style family home. It's not small, but not the biggest; obvious that the maintenance wasn't a high priority over the years, the paint chipping off in certain areas.

"That's it." You stand and stare, taking in the small, quaint house sitting by itself— a good distance separating it from the next house over. 

"Hm." You hum. "It does feel like home." You say, unable to explain the huge wave of nostalgia that suddenly overcame your senses. "I can't put my finger on it, but it certainly feels like home." Minho nods. "I can't believe we were here. This is where I grew up."

"Yeah."

"Wish I could remember it." At this point, an elderly lady comes out— walking onto the small porch with her cane. She notices you two and gently smiles, heading towards the flowers planted along the walkway into the house.

"I don't usually see pretty faces like yours come around. Are you from here?" She asks with a sweet smile, tending to her growing rose bush.

"I, um, grew up in this home when I was really young. I just wanted to come by and see it. I hope you don't mind that we're standing here looking at the house." She chuckles.

"Nonsense. My son bought this house but eventually moved out of the country, then had us move in here."

"That's nice."

"Does it look the same as you remember it?" Minho looks at you, but before he could intervene, you respond simply with a :

"I think so. Feels like it."

"I'm glad." She looks at her door then back at you two. "Do you, maybe, wanna come in?" You shake your head, afraid of it being too overwhelming, too much. Especially for someone like you, who is still learning life and the world.

"Oh, no. Thank you, though. We're going to leave soon. Seeing it from here is enough."

"You sure?" Minho asks quietly. You look at him and nod.

"Okay, sweetheart. If you ever change your mind, please knock. My husband and I are just around in the house."

"Thank you." You give her a small, curt bow before turning to Minho. "Let's go."

"Okay." Is all he says before following you down the path, creating enough distance between you and the house before chiming in again. "You sure you don’t wanna go in, Y/N?"

"Mhm. I'm just afraid it'll be too overwhelming for me, and I won't even know why. I'll have nothing to compare the feeling to.” You pause. “I promise. I'm okay seeing it that way. I think—" You sigh. "I think that feeling of seeing it and having it feel like home is enough. I don't want anything else to take over that."

"Okay." He pops his arm out for you to take and hold onto it. "That sounds good to me. We can make our way to the cemetery at a good time."

"Thanks, Minho."

"Course." The two of you continue to the car, laughing and smiling at the kids that are still playing in the park. You plop into the passenger's seat and buckle your seatbelt, rubbing your hands together to get rid of the morning cold. Minho checks on the flowers in the backseat, making sure they're still sitting prettily before hopping into the driver's seat.

"Good?" You nod. "Ready to go see your mom?"

"I am."

"Mmkay." Is all Minho responds with before pulling away from the curb. The cemetery is close to an hour drive in the opposite direction, and Minho makes sure you're comfortable for the ride over. He keeps it rather lowkey, playing soft music in the background while keeping the heat on. He doesn't really try to make small conversation not only because he's not much of a person for it, but because he can also tell your mind is already occupied. He does ask you from time to time if you're hungry and if you'd like to eat first, but you respond with a soft 'no;' reassuring him that all is well through a smile before leaning your head against the window.

Uncle Adrian was caught up at work, but he lets you know he'll meet you at the cemetery as soon as he's able to slip away and pack it up for the day, telling you to take your time and sit with her for as long as you'd like. You aren't really sure what you're gonna do when you get there though, to be honest. You're not even sure how long you plan to stick around. But, thankfully, Minho doesn't mind. He knows you need this right now, and he'll do whatever he can to help ease this.

To ease the transition in closing this chapter, in moving forward.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | EARLY COLLEGE

Minho is woken up in the middle of the night when he hears you giving off small whimpers. You're still snuggled against him, enveloped in his arms; though, he feels you twitch every now and then. He looks down at you, brushing the hair away from your face when he realizes you're still asleep and probably having a bad dream.

"Y/N." He says softly with a gentle shake at the shoulder. "Baby." He says a bit louder when you don't budge. He's a little bit rougher with his shake, finally getting you to slowly pry an eye open before the other follows suit.

"Hm?" You sleepily ask, rubbing at your face.

"You were having a bad dream."

"No."

"No?"

"My mom visited me in my dream. I was crying for her."

"I'm sorry, love."

"Nothing to be sorry about."

"Do you remember if she said anything to you?" You nod and wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly as you recall the best parts of your dream. Although it was a happy, beautiful dream, you found yourself tearing up at the thought of how angelic and peaceful your mom looked. At least, you could confirm that she was okay and that she was happy— wherever she was at.

"Mhm. She said she missed me, and that she was really happy to see me. She said she thinks about me all the time and that she's always by my side no matter what." You sniffle. Minho lifts your chin with his finger, wiping away at the tears that manage to slip down your bottom lid and down your cheeks. 

"I'm glad she visited you."

"I am, too." You begin to cry a bit harder as reality hits you, the thought of not actually being able to physically hug your mom feeling incredibly painful tonight. "I miss her so much, Min. I wish I could hug her."

"I know you do, baby. I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to wake you. I just got scared. I wish I could do more to help."

"No, it's okay. Just really miss her. But I'm glad she seems to be happy."

"And I'm sure she's very happy because she can see you doing well and being so strong."

"I hope so."

"I know so." Minho gives off a tiny chuckle before pulling you close and hugging you tightly. "Let's get back to sleep, yeah? We've got a couple of more hours before we need to be up."

"Okay."

"I love you."

"I love you, too." You whisper against his chest, shutting your eyes in hopes of finding sleep again.

☁︎ END

It's a bit past lunch time when you arrive at the cemetery, and you still don't feel hungry. You do feel nervous for whatever reason, somewhat anxious, even. Minho parks in a free space, shutting off the car while letting out a breath.

"You okay?" He looks at you while you stare out of the window. All you can do is look at him and nod once more before unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the car. You grab the bouquet of flowers from the back seat, hoping to rearrange them at her grave. Minho takes lead down the grassy field, stopping a few feet away from the car. He stands above a grave, looking down at the flat headstone before laying down a blanket and turning to you. You slowly approach him, letting him throw an arm around you and give it a soft squeeze.

"It's her." Is all he hears you say before you kneel to the ground and place the flowers down. It takes a moment before you register what's happening, before you realize that you're finally meeting her after all this time. 

Again.

You take another moment just to observe, to sit and be still. Then, you look at her picture, and you just cry. You cry, and cry. Because you miss her, because all you feel is overwhelming love for her.

You shakily run your finger down the picture, her smile so beautiful, so calming.

So peaceful.

You wish you could hug her tightly.

"I wish I could hug her." You say softly, and Minho can't help but gently rub your back to help ease your crying. Though, it's nice to know that you aren't alone, and you know you never will be. You do believe that your mom has been here with you, never leaving your side— especially throughout everything that's happened.

"We can stay here for as long as you need to." Minho adds. You quietly begin to arrange her flowers, Minho sitting back after he's added the bowl of oranges to the headstone. He watches as you delicately fix each stem, each flower, helping them stand tall and long. 

"Do they look okay?"

"They're beautiful." You give him a small smile.

"Mrs. Pak just got these in a couple of days ago. The baby blue Baby's Breath? They're so pretty."

"They are." 

"I hope she likes them."

"I'm sure she does." You sit back contently, hands falling to your lap. 

"Minho, I really wish I could remember the moments I've had with her. I think that's been the most upsetting part about everything. Not remembering the times I've had with my mom. Cause I can't get those back, and I can't necessarily make new ones with her."

"I'm sorry, I know. But, I know Uncle Adrian would be more than happy to walk down memory lane with you whenever you're ready. And I know she'd be happy to see you making new ones with him. She's with you everywhere you go, and she's in everything you do. You know that, right?"

"Mm, yeah. I just.. I don't know. I wish I could have a pass to go back in time to talk to her, or see her in my dreams." You sigh. "At least I can talk to her here, though. I hope she hears me."

"She does." Minho responds softly, watching as you stare at your mom's photo. He doesn't interrupt, gives you a moment to let your thoughts be.

To let you hold space. For you, for your mom.

And it's like this for awhile. Minho doesn't mind, especially since the weather has cleared up a bit and gotten warmer.

"Yo!" Jisung suddenly comes up the path, hands dug deep into his jacket. "Sorry I'm a bit late, I got caught up with some work stuff even though I told them I was taking off early today." He lets out a sigh as he sits next to you on the blanket. "You guys okay?"

"Mm yeah. I think so." You murmur.

"You sure, cielo?"

"Mhm. I just miss her, is all." Jisung pulls you into a hug and rubs at your arm while looking down at her headstone.

"Whenever we went on trips, your mom would always buy me bags of my favorite gummies. She'd always take us to get ice cream, or to the local convenience store to buy whatever snacks we wanted. Sometimes, she'd sit outside with us just to get some air and people watch." Jisung chuckles. "Your mom was really like my second mom. She was the nicest person. Always smiling. Kinda like you, I guess?" You laugh.

"Wow, you guess?" He shrugs. 

"Twins, for real." Jisung continues to tell you stories about the trips your families have taken together— how she would never let you two be unhappy, always willing to take you two to the places you wanted to visit even if everyone else was tired. She'd patiently wait for you two to finish playing, swimming, whatever it was— as long as you two were happy.

Then, the three of you find yourselves sitting quietly in front of her grave, looking out at the hills beyond it. The sky is bright and blue with no clouds in sight, weather warm with a very gentle breeze. The trees around you are full, showing off their healthy green leaves.

You sit, you breathe, you feel.

You turn to Jisung who is quietly dusting off your mom's grave, picking at the old, tiny, brown leaves that have accumulated in the corner. A small smile grows at your lips when you notice how focused he is on the small, tiny details; finger tracing the edges of the flat headstone. Then, you turn to Minho, who quietly sits by your side, looking out at the distant city view ahead. He suddenly meets your gaze, a smile growing at the corners of his lips. He pulls you into his arm, letting you rest your head on his shoulder.

No words being exchanged, no words needed to be said. 

Nothing.

You've come to know what the blue side of the sky truly means, what it truly feels like. Because there is so much pain, anguish, hurt in this world, so many grey skies and loud, aggressive storms. 

But not in this moment.

In this moment, there is only happiness, comfort, peace. Blue skies and warmth. 

In this moment, there is only love.

☁︎ FLASHBACK | EARLY CHILDHOOD

"Y/N." Your mom says as she holds your hand as you attempt to walk in a straight line on the curb. You giggle when you almost lose balance, your grip around her fingers tightening as you regain it. "Y/N love, are you listening to mommy?"

"I am, I am." You giggle and look up at her, flashing her that million-watt smile she adores.

"Okay, good. I just want you to listen to me for a second."

"Okay, mommy."

"You know, the world isn't a scary place, but it isn't perfect either, love." You continue to walk silently along the curb, listening to your mom. "You know mommy is always doing her best to raise you well, right?"

"Mhm, mhm!"

"I don't want you to grow up fearing new places, new adventures, new people. But, I also want you to protect yourself and save yourself for those that really deserve you. Every bit of you. Okay? I'm trying my hardest to raise you to be brave and strong, and I know you will be. But sometimes, you can't be. And that's okay. That's why it's so important to have good people around you. Good friends. People that care about you and love you no matter what. Always surround yourself with love."

"I have friends." You smile at her and she smiles back. "Like Jisungie."

"I know. And Jisungie is a perfect example of a good friend who will never leave your side. But sometimes, Jisungie might not always be there. What are you going to do?"

"Be strong! Because I am strong!" She laughs when you raise your arms to show off your muscles.

"Right, be strong. You're my brave girl. You will always be my brave and strong girl. Life may not always be that kind to you, but I know you'll be able to overcome anything. You deserve the very best, always. Never let yourself believe otherwise."

"Is it because I'm like you, mommy?"

"Yes." She giggles. "Yes it is. You're just like me." She scoops you into her arms before planting a kiss on your cheek and pointing upwards. "You know, if you ever have bad days, or if you ever need a reminder. Just look up at the blue sky." She pauses and taps the tip of your nose. "Because no matter what, that blue sky will always come back after the rain. It'll never let those grey skies completely take over no matter how hard the rain comes down. It will always come back and be there for you."

☁︎ END

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[thrashyraccoon]

Jealous Guy (Jealous!Eddie Munson x Reader)

___________________________________________

Summary: Another guy starts hanging around you at work and Eddie is concerned about it.

___________________________________________

You and Eddie have been together for a year and have known each other for two years since you moved to Hawkins. You met in high school, but you've already graduated and work at one of the few grocery stores in town, which Eddie is struggling to finish his senior year. Your relationship is still going very well, as it was at the beginning, but now the boy had reasons to be jealous. A nondescript Harry started hanging around your workplace, or more precisely you. A guy five years older with short blonde hair who wears leather almost 24/7. Of course, Eddie had never seen him. He heard that description from you because you told him about Harry, that he was nice and loved metal as much as Eddie. Then the boy thought to himself "it's cool, I won't forbid my partner from talking to customers in the store. Until he met one of your shift colleagues while picking you up from shift." Be careful, young, a certain guy comes up too often during your girlfriend's shifts. " He heard from a middle-aged woman in a work T-shirt, blond, medium curly hair, currently smoking a cigarette during her five-minute break, which usually lasted forever. And that's when fear and jealousy appeared in the boy. If he says she's a woman who ignores everything that's going on around her (including angry customers), so there must be something to it. A week has passed since the previous information and Eddie couldn't be bothered about it. He really hated being jealous of you and didn't want to be with you to argue about this guy. Eddie knew you loved him, but what if you realized he wasn't a good match for you after all and started dating Harry. After all, you were young, you had just finished school, many dreams were still ahead of you. And he? He couldn't even pass school, twice. So, not wanting to start a misunderstanding, he decided to drive over to your workplace after school, when you still had a few hours before your shift started, to meet the employee he talked to last week.

…

Boy got deya vu. Just like that time, a bored blonde was standing in front of the store door, smoking her cigarette. "Hey, can we talk? I have a case." said Eddie, who was glared at by the woman in response. After a second, however, she returned to her previous activity. “It's about the guy who hangs around y/n.”

This time, without even looking at the metalworker, the employee extended her hand towards him, gesturing for him to give her the cash.

"I have 5 dollars on me," he took out a bill, which she took literally in less than a second and put it in her cleavage.

"He often comes for a Marlboro and they reheat the pizza, it's usually when your partner is there. They always talks eachother" She said, taking another puff of the cigarette

"I know that he's coming. Do you know what they're talking about?" The blonde once again made the payment gesture. The boy took out cash and gave the woman "I have $3 more."

"He hangs around and that I've heard him compliment twice, but y/n seems unfazed by it. You don't have to worry about it."

On the one hand, the metalhead breathed a sigh of relief after this statement because he knew that his partner was not going to leave him for someone else, but on the other hand, he lost $8 irretrievably because of this information. However, he didn't feel confident about the fact that his lover was surrounded by a other guy. For peace of mind, he decided to talk to you about it without any secondary conclusions."

"Thanks so much for the information."

"No problem. Now get out of here or you're disrupting my shift, shaggy."

…

A day has passed since the conversation with your supervisor. Eddie was sitting on the bed in his room planning the next d&d campaign for next Friday since we had nothing to do until you got back from your noon shift. Just then, the boy heard the front door open and Uncle Wayne's voice announcing that "Eddie's in his room." The bedroom door opened, but the metal man didn't bother to look who came in because he knew full well it was you.

“Hi Eds,” you said, giving the boy a kiss on his full head of hair. After a while, you placed a few patches on the bed your boyfriend occupied, and the boy immediately looked at them out of curiosity.

"Thank you babe." He said, reaching for the first one on the bank, caressing it between his fingers. "Oh cool, Black Sabbath. Where are you from?"

"I got it from Harry, he said he didn't need it."

After that sentence, a confused Eddie fell silent and threw away the patch. The feeling of jealousy came to the fore again. He had to be sure now.

"Hey, what's going on?" You said, looking worriedly at your boyfriend as you sat on the edge of his bed.

"Honey, will you be honest with me?"

"Always with you, Eds."

"Do…do you like Harry?" In response, he heard quite loud laughter, but not loud enough to wake up the neighbors around him. "Babe, I'm serious!"

You decided to keep a straight face and answer him with complete honesty "Eds, honey, for me he's just a friend with whom I talk when he comes over. In fact, he tries to flirt with me, but to no avail. Anyway, first of all, I told him that I have a boyfriend, and secondly, Harry isn't even my type, he looks like the lead singer of Judas Priest-"

"Good, now I have no chance at all with him!!!" The metal man shouted, cutting you off by dramatically slamming his weight onto the bed.

Watching with amusement, you decided to continue your statement, moving closer to Eddie, "Eds, I prefer guys with Van Halen looks…"

"There's still some Eddie Van Ha-" hanging around! He continued to dramatize until he felt a tap on his shoulder, "Ouh, baby, for what?"

"You're the guy with the Van Halen look, idiot!"

After Eddie analyzed the statement for a moment, the only thing he managed to choke out was a sound of understanding.

"Besides, even if Van Halen came in here, I wouldn't leave you for him, stupid," you said, giggling slightly, then brought your hands closer to Eddie's face and gave him a quick kiss on the lips and hugged him. "I think you and Harry should get to know each other."

"You know, honey, this is actually a good idea." He replied, hugging you closer to him. “It's time to explain that you don't flirt with other people-ouh,” he stopped after you smacked him lightly on the forehead a second time, this time.

"No fighting in the store, Eds!"

"I know, I know," Eddie said, laughing, "Just kidding, sweetheart."

[emotionoitme]

human, for a minute

part three of about a girl

read part two here

carmy berzatto x reader

warnings: angst, mentions of a stalker, mutual pining feels, crying, carmen in denial, a hint of steaminess

wc: 4.7k

a/n: angst chapter!!!!! i hope i make u all cry >:) please leave me a comment to let me know what you think! <3 i’ll be posting a spotify playlist link on my page for the series soon. if you’re enjoying the story stay tuned for one more part!

shame - human, for a minute

the phone rings again, for what seems to be the fiftieth time, blaring through the restaurant in a piercing shrill. clamor of utensils and dishware, the occasional shout of instruction breaking the static noise. the man feels a headache creeping on, trying to force himself to not check the clock again. it hadn’t been long since he last checked it, and he knew he would regret it the moment he did. his eyes dart upwards. it’s 1:35. 

she wasn't supposed to come in until 3, scheduled to close that night, he reminds himself. in that moment he craved the sense of peace she brought to the environment, the noticeable ease in dinner services within the past five months of her employment reasserting her essentiality. orders were smoother, customers were happier, shifts seemed shorter. he also found it thoroughly grounding to be able to look up from his work, through the expo window and watch her for just a moment, not that he would admit to it. he had dropped her off at home on his way to the restaurant that morning, watching her walk up her complex stairs clad in a white shirt and a pair of hanes, both borrowed, and noticeably oversized. 

he cuts back to his task at hand, setting a plate down, drizzling a sauce over the surface, not checking the clock. 

he thinks back to when he had gently woken her hours earlier. slipping out of bed at the sound of his alarm, hand groggily coming to rub his face, making his way to the bathroom. he practically forgot she was there in his tired haze, the memories of the night flooding back to him when he returned to the bedroom, staring at her sleeping form. his heart inexplicably ached at the sight as he gently opened his dresser drawers, beginning to get ready for work. he dresses, mentally rattling off things that need to be done at the restaurant, running his hands through his unruly bed head. he brushes his teeth, locates his keys and wallet, and puts on his socks all before making his way back over to the sleeping girl. 

he wanted to leave her there, come back home and find her waiting there just for him. the man checked the time on his phone, nearing 7 o’clock. he leans over the bed, placing a hand on her side and lightly rubbing. she shifts, blinking awake, meeting his eyes. 

“hey,” he greets softly, brushing her hair behind her ear, resting his hand on her for a moment. she sleepily smiles, eyes bleary. 

“morning,” she responds quietly, looking him over, “you gotta go?” 

he nods, internalizing his disappointment, removing his hand from her hair. 

“okay,” she responds, rubbing her eyes, “i’ll get up.” she slowly sits up, holding the blanket to her bare chest, trying to blink away the sleepiness. carmy notices the slight sway in her seated form, eyes heavy, watching a small shiver pass over her. 

“you can stay,” he tells her, “go back to sleep if you want.”

she looks up to his standing form, tempted to accept his offer, wanting nothing more than to stay cozied up in a bed that smells like him. she rationalizes the situation, though, tying her hair up out of her face. she wasn’t going to overstay her welcome, telling herself, he’s just trying to be nice. 

“you’re not scared of me snooping through your stuff?” she asks, eyebrow raising a bit. he lets out a laugh, slightly taken aback by her question. 

“would you?” he asks. 

she thinks for a moment, head tilting.

“probably not…but you would never know if i did,” she answers, grinning. he smiles in amusement, quickly raking his eyes over her face, trailing down to her collarbones, shoulders, exposed back. 

“do you think you could take me home?” she asks, “on your way to work?”

“yeah,” he answers, “yeah, of course.” to which she smiles in response. 

she goes to get out of bed when she remembers her nudity concealed by the sheet, pausing, embarrassment evident on her face. he smiles at her hesitation, the girl acting as if he hadn’t seen her stark naked the night before. she turns to him, “can i also borrow something to wear home?” she asks, “please? i wanna get back in bed.” 

in that moment he couldn’t fathom saying no to her, immediately grabbing her a few things she could choose from, her selecting a plain white shirt and a pair of his checkered boxers. she gets out of bed, skin raised in goosebumps from the chill morning, slipping his shirt over her head, then walking past carmen to the living room, searching for her discarded panties. the man watched her, entranced, surprised at how viscerally affected he was at the sight. he loved the way she looked in his clothes, debating telling her to keep them forever. 

he tries to ignore the implications of their time together, as he stands over the finished plate, phone on the wall still ringing. 

“hands!” he calls, moving away from the dish, wiping his hands on the rag draped over his shoulder.

fuck, he thinks, what am i doing?

everything had been moving so fast— having told himself prior he wouldn’t pursue her at all, let alone invite her to stay the night wrapped in his arms, mind completely clouded with the thought of her. he thinks to his initial intention, a quick hookup, something to help him let off some steam, alleviate the pressure that built within him the second he laid eyes on her. it didn’t alleviate anything, though, finding himself stuck on the thought of her more now than ever. 

“fuck, can i get some hands, please?” carmen yells out, already busied by the next task, eyebrows furrowed and jaw tight. 

it was like he was trying to quit a drug by injecting it directly into his veins, incessantly tortured by his inner dilemma surrounding her. it was apparent to many that the restaurant required her help, especially amidst a rush much like the one happening now. he knew this. knew that she couldn’t continue to work here if the two of them were to grow closer than they already had, their current relationship being a major conflict of interest, to say the least. 

gotta put an end to it, he tells himself, chest tightening at the thought. he shakes this away, takes a deep breath and refocuses himself on his work. he glances up at the clock again. an hour left. he rips his eyes away, mentally chastising himself. 

i have to tell her today, the thought creating a sinking in his stomach. 

—

she flings open the heavy metal door, quickly finding safety inside, heart rapidly beating from her rushed pace. she lets out a shaky breath, trying to calm herself. she walks further inside, opening a locker and setting her bag down, zoning out for a second, deeply perturbed by what she had experienced on her commute. 

“hey, welcome in,” she hears a chipper voice, turning to see sydney. 

“hey. thanks chef,” she responds softly, taking a moment to process the simple greeting, tying her hair back out of her face. the girl, heavy in thought, slowly makes her way to the front of store, passing by carmen’s office, his door ajar. 

“hey, chef,” she hears him call out to her. she pauses, turning to the seated man. 

“hi,” she gently greets, attempting to silence the waver in her tone. she pauses, looking at him, debating to tell him what happened. 

“you okay?” he asks, concern on his face. she decides to shake it off, wanting to get through this shift without any tears, go home, crawl under her covers and never come out again. 

“yeah,” she nods, “i’m okay.”

carmen keeps the same expression, tilting his head slightly, not fully believing her. she looks away from him, feeling as if by locking eyes she would bare her soul. he narrows his gaze, studying the girl, and she feels herself cracking. 

“i’ll tell you later,” she compromises, crossing her arms.  

“okay,” he accepts, nodding, eyeing her form before she turns to walk to the front of house.

the man feels a slight churn in his stomach, wondering if she would beat him to the conversation he wanted to initiate. except she had looked pale, almost like she had seen a ghost. he rubs his hand over his face, leaning back in his chair, letting out a heavy sigh. 

the dinner shift that night was hectic beyond belief. broken dishes, incorrect tickets, increased waiting times— the kitchen was tense, carmen rounding off orders, sydney bustling back and forth between stations to assist. the usual rhythm the dinner crew seemed to fall into proved to be virtually nonexistent. the young woman at the front blamed herself for his, her head completely out of it tonight. she had punched in orders wrong, mixed up drink requests, misplaced seating sections. she brought her hand up to rub her forehead, trying to fix an error she had entered into their system, brain pulsing with a headache. she refused to check the clock, knowing she must be only four or five hours in at this point. her brain felt foggy, clouded by the jarring things that had been said to her on her walk to work.

i’ll get some cold water and go take a breath in the back, she thinks, trying to mentally encourage herself through the shift. she quickly walks to the back, trying to be as fast as she can, squeezing through the kitchen and darting for the back room. her body feels hot, panicked, as she nears the last turn.

“corner!” she hears all too late, slamming face first into a firm chest, the impact knocking the air out of her lungs for a moment. 

“shit!” he curses, tightly grabbing her hips on instinct to steady her. she lets out a labored breath, bringing her head up to her forehead, pounding even harder. she looks up to meet carmy’s gaze, embarrassment on her face.

“corner, chef?” he asks, brow creased, letting his hands linger for a moment before letting go of her. 

“i’m sorry, chef,” she breathes out, tears brimming at her eyes, a waver in her tone. the frustration on his face is replaced by a look of concern, bringing his hand to touch her arm. 

“hey,” he says softly, “you alright?” 

she takes a deep breath, knot heavy at the back of her throat. 

“i’m alright,” she answers gently, “i just need a second.”  

he softly says her name, deeply searching her eyes as if they would present to him all her troubles. 

“i just don’t wanna think about it right now,” she whispers, lip beginning to tremble. 

“okay, sweetheart, that’s fine,” he reassures her, the name slipping off his tongue unintentionally. she wants to cry, dive into his arms hearing his soft tone, quickly wiping a tear before it can slip down her face. 

“why don’t you go sit in the office, huh? take a breather,” he suggests. 

she nods, looking down to her shoes. he gives her arm a soft pat before removing it altogether, walking past her to the kitchen. the sight of her anguish was admittedly difficult for carmen to see, his mind rattling with possibilities of what could be upsetting her so badly. he waited in anticipation for closing time, trying to keep a close eye on the girl throughout the night, who seemed to be falling back into rhythm after her short break. the last three hours of business wrapped up quickly, staff numbers dwindling more and more as the night progressed. carmy spent the last thirty minutes of the night in his confined office, sorting through licenses and finalizing next week’s schedule into the system. he turns the computer off, closing his eyes for a moment to alleviate the strain he felt, reveling in the quiet. rising from the chair and stretching, he walks through the small office door, turning the corner to come into the kitchen. his eyes land on her, wiping the pristine flat top with a dry rag. she looks up at the movement, hard gaze softening at the sight of him. 

“hey,” she greets softly, “i’m all done. just finishing the counters.”

“looks great, thank you,” he returns, nodding. she gives a small smile at the praise but he can still notice a heaviness upon her demeanor, eyes more dull than they usually are. 

“i’m, uh, just gonna smoke,” he continues, “then i’ll take you home, alright?”

she nods. “thank you,” meeting his gaze, drifting her eyes over his incredibly handsome face. she doesn’t make any small talk, drying the last wet spot and walking to the back to toss the dirty towel in a hamper. carmen walks back into his office, removing his apron and pulling his wallet, keys, cigarettes from the drawer. he then switches off the small desk lamp, coating the room in thick darkness. he emerges towards the glow of the kitchen fluorescents, the girl washing her hands, drying them, and walking to retrieve her belongings out of a locker. they silently make their way outside, carmy turning off the lights behind them and shutting the back door. they both revel in the fresh air of the cool night, a sense of serenity in the silence that engulfed the alleyway. he hears her take a deep breath, fishing a cigarette from his carton and placing it in between his lips. he shoves his hand into his pocket, finding only his wallet and keys. he checks his other one, then the back pockets. 

“fuck,” he swears, head falling back against the metal door, nerves pricking with inclination. he turns to the non-smoker in a glimpse of yielding hope, “you got a light?” he asks. she stares forward, fixated on the same point, leaning against the same door. it takes her a second for her to meet his eyes in a glance, her response delayed 

“lighter? uh, yeah i think,” she answers, beginning to dig through her bag. she pulls out a bright blue bic, and he chuckles in relief. she hands it to the man, his fingers sliding over hers as he takes it from her. carmy ignites the flame, bringing it to the tip of the cigarette and deeply inhaling, a noticeable tension subsiding within him. he goes to hand the lighter back to her.

“keep it,” she tells him, bumping her shoulder against his lightly. he smiles, pocketing the blue object. 

“thank you,” he responds, genuinely, taking another long drag. the two share a beat of silence, the girl unmoving from her position, shoulder flush against his. a breeze sweeps through the street, calm after the storm. 

he clears his throat. 

“so you, uh, gonna tell me what happened?” his tone soft, keeping his eyes trained forward. he feels her deeply inhale, mentally preparing himself for the worst. she thinks for a moment, piecing together her explanation. a cloud of smoke seeps through the alleyway from carmen. 

“you know how i used to work at ricky’s?” she starts. he glances at her, nodding. “well, um,” she continues, “there was this regular that we had, some older guy. he was always there during my shifts,” she hesitates, “and, uh, he turned out to be kind of a creep.”  

carmen turns to her, watching her closely now. 

“like, he would wait for outside for me until i was off and try to talk to me,” she explains, voice beginning to strain, “and, uh, he got my phone number somehow? and started sending me these terrible messages.” the man holds her in an unwavering gaze, his jaw tightening. he takes a drag of his cigarette, watching her. 

“so, i got a new number,” she clarifies, “and uh, a new job,” glancing at him, “and everything stopped.” her eyes start to brim with tears. 

“okay,” he encourages, eyebrows deeply furrowed, but tone soft and sweet. he stubs his cigarette out, tossing it. she takes a shaky breath. 

“and then this morning i was walking here,” quickly bringing her hand up to wipe a stray tear, “and this truck pulled up next to me,” her throat grows tight and hot, “and it was him, carmy,” she lets out in a sob. he instinctively pulls her into his arms, wrapping around her tightly, resting his head on hers. his gaze was fixated behind the girl on the ground, a hot wave of anger burning beneath his skin. 

“what happened?” he asks, an urgency in his words. 

she buries her face into his chest, slightly shaking, tears soaking his white shirt. 

“he said all these…horrible things to me,” she sobs out, grabbing onto him as if he were her lifeline. he puts his hand on her hip, pulling back slightly to look at her, worry spread over his features, tears pouring down her cheeks, face flushed. 

“hey,” he says in a concerned tone, her puffy eyes coming to meet his. carmen tightens the arm around her back, whispering her name, “what did he say to you, baby?” he really never means to call her that, it just slips out. 

she bites back a sob, wishing she could melt into the man— escape from everything, remain engulfed in the soothing warmth of his safety forever. 

“i can’t, carmy,” she cries, shaking her head. he feels a pit in his stomach, anxiety prickling through his body. 

“okay,” he concedes, nodding, “that’s okay, you don’t have to right now.” he scans her face, bringing a hand to her cheek and gently wiping the tears from her eyes. 

“you don’t have anything to worry about now,” he tells her, voice low, “i’m gonna take care of you, okay? that fucko isn’t gonna come anywhere near you,” he asserts, gripping her tightly. 

“okay,” she whispers, the weightless feeling of the tremendous fear alleviating in her chest. 

“let’s get you home, yeah?” he asks her, watching the girl shut her eyes, nodding, a few stray tears rolling down her cheek and sliding off her jaw, bringing her sleeves up to dry them. carmy keeps his hand wrapped around her hip, turning to slowly walk her to the car. he felt an overwhelming possessiveness clouding his rationality— an unyielding urge to do whatever he can to protect her, the thought of another man even looking at her wrong electrifying him with anger. they arrive at the passenger’s side, carmy opening the door for her and helping her into the car as she mutters a soft thanks. he closes her door, letting out a deep sigh, plagued by indecision, catching a glimpse of his reflection in the dark car window. the answer would be incredibly simple had he chosen to go with his heart, but carmen was reluctant in trusting something that had previously brought him only distraction and turmoil. he’s gonna be logical about this, he decides, reassuring himself no good boss should be fucking around with his young employees. he wanted to be a good man to her, too, feeling undeserving of her attention, her loving gaze. he makes his way to the driver’s door, getting into the car. he starts the ignition, pulling out of the alleyway into the street, turning in the direction of her apartment. the short ride was quiet, the exception of a few spare sniffles sounding from the girl. a soft melody played on the radio, drowning out the hum of the road. he glances to her, the girl’s gaze fixed on the passing surroundings outside her window. he turns down the music, slightly. 

“you did good today,” he praises, impressed by her resilience. she lets out a scoff. 

“i cried in your office for like ten minutes straight,” she responds, watching the light of the moving street lamps bleed together. 

“i know,” his voice gentle, low, “i’m still proud of ‘ya,” he tells the sulking girl. she finds herself start to smile very softly at this, the man’s words warming the chill she had felt since being approached by the strange man. he slowly pulls up to her complex, shifting the gear into park, the girl undoing her seatbelt. 

“carm,” she calls, directing the man’s attention to her, eyes expectantly meeting hers. she feels at a bit lost for words, unsure of how to express the tremendous gratitude she felt for him, how to express to him how much she feels she needs him. so instead she just leans forward, throwing her arms around the man, burying her head into his neck. he lets out a breath at the unexpected touch, wrapping his arms around her, bringing a hand up to grasp the back of her neck. 

“thank you,” she whispers into him, “for everything.” 

his heart clenches, a deep ache growing in his chest. 

“you shouldn’t thank me,” he softly responds, holding her close to him, feeling entirely unworthy of the gratitude, knowing soon enough he would have to hurt her— end things completely. 

she pulls back, bringing her forehead to his, closing her eyes. 

“come inside?” she asks him, breath gracing his lips, “please,” she pleads. 

carmen’s eyes flutter shut, sliding his hand from the back of her neck to the side, grabbing, savoring her sweet scent. he feels something ignite within him touching her like this, nose brushing against hers. he wants so badly to lean forward, engulf her lips in his, taste her. he lets out a groan, forcing himself to pull away from her, dropping his hand from her neck. he sighs, hesitating for a moment, fighting against every urge within him. 

“i, uh… i can’t,” he tells her, drawing his gaze away from her, towards the illumination of his headlamps on the asphalt. she presses her hands onto the center console, turning and leaning over it to the man. she brings a hand to his face, pulling him in slightly, dipping her head into his neck to gently pepper kisses along his skin. her hand slides to his firm chest, pressing into him. his head falls back, clenching his jaw, rationality crumbling rapidly beneath her lips. 

“please, carmy,” she prays into his skin, “come make me feel better,” biting to leave a small mark. he feels hot from the inside out, blood rushes through him, a growing pulse beneath his pants. he takes a deep breath, trying to recenter himself, focus on anything but the feeling of her against him. he says her name, sternly, the girl pulling away at his tone, meeting his gaze. he shuts his eyes tightly, running a hand over his face. 

i guess it’s now or never. 

“we, uh… we can’t,” he sighs, pausing, piecing his words together. “we can’t do this anymore.” 

her expression remains flat, brows slightly furrowed. 

“do what?” she asks carefully, sitting back in her seat, away from him. he just looks at her, implication in his silence. her brows set further, biting her lip to stop it from trembling. the look in her eyes is almost disbelief, a gnawing forms deep within carmen’s stomach. she shakes her head, slightly.

“where is this coming from?” she asks, voice quiet. he can’t bring himself to meet her eyes in the moment. 

“i don’t want this to go… too far,” he hesitates, throwing her a quick glance, “I don't-,” pushing his hair back, taking a breath. she brings her hand to rest on his, moving closer. 

“i don’t want to hurt you,” he admits, locking eyes with her, finding serenity in the depths of her irises, his shoulders noticeably untensing, leaning further in towards her when he doesn’t mean to. she scoots closer, her hands cold on his, falling deeply into his cerulean gaze. he selfishly pulls her into him, once more, strong arm coming to wrap around her, holding her against him, her arms coming to clutch his shirt. he smells her sweet perfume, deeply inhaling, feeling almost human for a moment. she pulls back just slightly, her cheek brushing against his, coming to rest her forehead against his once more, almost as if it would ease the pain. she shuts her eyes, inching impossibly closer, eager to feel him pressed against her. 

“i don’t want you to either,” she whispers, tears burning behind her tightly shut eyes. his hand comes up to the base of her neck, carding his fingers up through her hair, softly grabbing. she sighs against his lips, yearning. 

so close. 

hearts pounding, skin hot, faces flush. 

fuck it. 

she leans forward, finally pressing her lips against his— warm, plump, so incredibly soft— the two moaning in tandem at the sensation. it’s almost overwhelming for carmen, his breath hitching at the contact, selfishly letting himself melt into her, the best thing he’s ever had on his lips. he knows this will blur lines between them even more, complicate, hurt, but he didn’t care, their kisses soft and slow, electrifying nerves. he grabs her hair, tighter, pulling her closer to him, gently sliding his tongue along her bottom lip. she accepts it, kissing him deeply, letting out a whimper, grabbing whatever she can of him, desperate to fully feel him against her. her hands fall onto the muscle of his bicep, squeezing, the pressure of his lips hot against hers, marveling at the intensity of the kiss. teeth clash, tongues embrace, pulling, grabbing, each exchanging a small piece of their soul through the heat of their lips. his free hand grabs her waist, slow, hot kisses increasing in ferocity, his mind feeling completely numb to any previous objection. she sucks his lip, lightly, the man groaning deeply, the sensation of her mouth greater than anything he’d ever experienced. he deepens the kiss. her core aches, wanting to hoist herself up, slide in between him and the steering wheel, have him take her right in his car. but she pulled away with a final few kisses, the two breathing heavily, car windows fogging with condensation. he frowns at the loss of contact, opening his eyes, meeting her face, lips swollen, eyes low. 

“you’re right,” she admits, quietly. he looks at her in confusion, needing to feel her again. she bites her lip, a few tears growing in her eyes. “we need to stop,” a whisper. 

his lungs tighten, pit in his stomach. he shouldn’t have kissed her back, he thinks, head spinning. 

she wipes an escaped tear, leaning forward to hug him once more, savoring the feeling of him, safe and solid. he doesn’t know what to say, so he just holds her tightly, for what he knows to be the last time. she sniffles, coming back to kiss his cheek, then pulling away completely, grabbing her bag off the floor of his car. 

“thanks for the ride,” she tells him quietly, opening the door, locking eyes with him, the two with a mutual look of pain behind their gaze. he just nods, not trusting his voice. she steps out into the summer night, taking a deep breath, turning back to him. 

“goodnight, carm,” shutting the car door and walking to the stairs of her complex. once her back is to him, she lets the salty tears stream down her face, knot in her throat, face hot with embarrassment, heart clenching inexplicably. she knew this would happen, so why did it hurt so bad? 

it was never supposed to go this far, but it did. 

small fragments of heart scattering behind her like crumbled porcelain, leading back to the idling car where he sat, numb. 

fuck, he curses himself as soon as the door shuts. he tries taking deep breaths to calm himself, to no avail, the space of the car now feeling confined as if it were closing in on him. 

“fuck!” he yells, slamming his hand against the steering wheel. it was supposed to be the right decision— things were never supposed to go so far. so why did it feel like his heart was shattering beneath the weight of his ribs? 

he watches her trudge up the stairs, her shoulders visibly shaking. 

—

i really hope you liked it! final part coming soon, and will be a long one! <3

thank you for your continued support on this series!! :)

part 4 - under the moon

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

Am I the asshole for how I dealt with this child ar my part time job?

After I left my college after one semester due to how much I hated the environment of it, I’ve come back home, applied to other colleges, and found a part time job at a trampoline park. It has all kinds of things, like a zip line, laser maze, the whole shebang. I work as a court monitor and make sure kids are safe and whatnot. We do rotations for every stations so one person isn’t super stressed, especially cause some sections are more high maintenance than others.

Anywho, I was managing the laser maze section and I notice this boy. He’s coming up and talking to me, I try and be patient cause kids are dumb. They come up and comment on stupid shit all the time. But then he tries to cut the line, go in during other people’s games, the whole thing. I tell him off, and I think that’s that.

Nope. During my next rotation I’m in the middle area of the platform, where we have dive trampolines and silks. And I know kids are notoriously greedy with silks, so I keep an eye out, make sure to tell kids to share and whatnot. Lo and behold, I see this kid. I can kinda tell already this kid is special needs, so I try and be nice. I ask him how long he’s been on there, then go ask a parent who’s been watching. Kid tells me he’s only been on there for two minutes, but the mom watching says he’s been on there for a while. I tell the kid he needs to get off (nicely btw) and that he needs to share but he throws a fuss. I tell the dad (trying to be nice) and dad gets him off.

Later on I have to warn the kid about going into the laser maze when others are in there. Dad seems pissed off, but honestly I’m just trying to keep this kid out of trouble because his dad is not doing shit about his behavior towards others and their surroundings, nor does he ever get off his phone.

The last straw was when I was looking over the super tramps. I made sure to tell everyone to stay off the black mats surrounding the trampolines and that only 1 person can be on a single tramp at a time. A mom asked me if her tiny kids can go on even if it’s twice at a time. I allowed it, since they’re small and the mom was watching. I talked to the mom a bit, making small talk and making sure she was ok with how I was dealing with things because I know I can be strict and parents are protective. And she mentions the kid coming onto the tramp and how dangerous it was. Like she didn’t even have to mention what he looked like, and when I asked she said yes.

Next thing I know, this kid legit runs onto the damn tramps where they’re at and starts to jump. Out of surprise and shock (because I was watching the tramps and didn’t know he was behind me) I yelled out. And his dad did not like it. Like, I tried to be patient with this kid, but he’s been causing a bunch of problems with other customers and it’s not been great. And his dad is just enabling his behavior.

I try to explain the rules and regulations and what I saw what his son was about to do, but he didn’t even let me explain. He’s complaining that his son knows the rules, and that he was just watching. I try and tell him that he was about to run into these kids on their turn on the super tramp, and the mom also tried to defend me. It got messy to the point he kept saying that it’s my bias against his son for being autistic, but no, it isn’t. And I have two moms to back me up, although one wasn’t there. I tried to reason with this guy, be he wasn’t having it.

I eventually got a manager to talk to him and idk how it ended up, but after I walked away? Man…I just felt so overwhelmed. I never knew what I was holding back until tears just began streaming down. Like man, kids are enough to deal with and I can handle that. But adults legit accusing me of shit like that? God I felt fucking defenseless.

Luckily the managers let me go home early to decompress, but also took my side and understood. Hell, I met the mom watching the silks in the bathroom and she understood.

I’m just trying to do my job man… I really wish I didn’t have to deal with that today.

But… am I the asshole for how I tried to deal with this kid? I am aware of how autism is so diverse and the basics, and I know I need to work on how I deal with kids. And even if I’m really bothered by how this dad deals with his kid and how…idk enabling it feels towards his behavior? I just don’t know. And if I need to I’ll take it if I’m the asshole for how I dealt with it.

What are these acronyms?

[deceptive-daydreams]

Ch. 1 | Ch. 2 | Ch. 3 | Ch. 4 | Ch. 5 | Ch. 6 | Ch. 7 | Ch. 8 | Ch. 9 | Ch. 10 | Ch. 11 | Ch. 12 | Ch. 13 | Ch. 14 |

Smoke Signals

Chapter Three - Two Old Fashioneds

W/C: 5.2K

Eddie x Fem reader - Grumpy!Bartender!Eddie x Shy!Reader

Your first shift at The Bourbon goes less than smoothly and more chaotic. Does the town's hard-ass really have his shit together like he leads everyone to believe?

A/N: guys I'm so excited for this to pick up even more (i want to make them kiss like barbies but all in good time)

Masterlist

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The ins and outs of a bar were something you could have never anticipated and while similar in certain ways to a diner, there was a distinct line that separated the two.  A diner had grumpy old men complaining about not getting their coffee soon enough.  The bar had grumpy old men slurring their words, groaning about their lives and insisting that a ‘cute lil thing like you’ would fix everything.  You had to stop yourself from gagging, plaster a smile on your face, and carry on.  Because one complaint and you could be out of a job, only proving that you couldn’t handle the ‘rowdy’ customers as disclosed by the boss, who now that you thought about, hadn’t seen in the last forty minutes.  

Not one other server was on staff to at least show you the ropes, it seemed like you were the first one.  One of the bartenders, Jett, who had been the one you’d seen working the day before, was unfortunately selected to both train you and run the bar for the most part tonight, no time for a proper introduction before you were thrown into the deep end, only a quick exchange of names.  It was a Thursday night but apparently to people in Knife’s Edge that meant the weekend started early.  Poor Jett was nineteen years old and the whole bar depended on you two ever since 8:00 PM when you clocked in for your very first shift.  It was nauseating having to ask him stupid questions in between attempting to serve tables while he made drink after drink, desperately trying to keep up with each order and delivering them to the right customer, even going as far to step out from behind the bar to tend to some of your tables.  You assume he was probably used to it, what with how he did it without hesitation and seemed to have his own little system in place.

It wasn’t your fault, he assured you.  It’s just that you happened to pick up your first shift the very night that the kitchen ran out of beef which also happened to be the main ingredient of one of The Bourbon’s only menu items, the famous Shreddar Burger topped with an ungodly amount of cheese and jalapenos.  Turns out the customers went wild for it.  It didn’t seem appetizing but you weren’t going to argue with the crowd favorite.  And now it was being requested left and right, the explanation that the kitchen was currently out but should be back to whipping up another round soon, not enough for their hungry bellies.  The best you could offer was a basket of fries until the beef magically showed up, Jett insisting that someone was taking care of it and that the cook would be back to whipping them up as planned sooner than later.  You were beginning to lose faith in his promises but proceeded one step at a time regardless.

Just one more task and then the beef will be here and I won’t have to hear another damn grievance over a heartburn-inducing burger. 

Yet it seemed to never come to an end, table after table requesting the very same order each time; only for you or Jett to break the news that their precious burger would have to wait and that again, the best you could offer were some fries or chicken wings, neither measuring up to the pedestal they held this burger on.

By around 9:15 PM, out came Eddie from the kitchen, door swinging behind him as sweat dripped from his brow.  He was out of breath, chest heaving while he gestured for you and Jett to come over to which you obeyed, zigzagging around tables in a hurry with a tray tucked under your arm, brows pinched together stressfully.  A new party of eight had just arrived which prompted you to push three tables together to accompany them, their drink order hadn’t even been taken yet and Eddie seemed to pick the worst time to call an impromptu meeting, in the middle of a never ending rush.  Burgerless.  

“Beef’s here.  Jett, I need you to help with the rest of the boxes so we can get burgers going.”  He instructs, the boy immediately following orders and frantically heading through the swinging door at full speed, very aware that he still had the front of house to attend to.  “And you, Bambi, change of plans.  I need you in the kitchen.”

So much to unpack in just one sentence.  The kitchen?  Bambi?

“Well–I-I thought I was just a server–”

“I said change of plans, I need you in the kitchen.”  Before you could ask further questions, he disappears into the kitchen and for a split second you turn to glance at the full bar awaiting service only to wince and follow him.  No one was managing the front and that made your nerves twitch but you suppose the boss knows what he’s doing.  At least you hope.  Your first hour or so had been a shit show.

Pans clanked against the metal worktop as he shoved them out of the way, clearing the space and igniting the flat top all while not batting an eye at you or caring to further explain.  You could just make out the formation of numbers on his lips, no sound coming out, but he was distinctly lip syncing the numbers one through three over and over.  It was strange though you didn’t have much time to process it, instead opting to internally lose it over the sheer idea of filling in for another position.  You didn’t sign up to be a cook and this was way out of your scope of skills.  He deemed you as incapable of being a server and now he was putting the foundation of this place on your shoulders.

“Randy, our cook left.”  He begins, oiling up the surface, his focus never faltering.  “Don’t know why, don’t know where.  All I know is I went to pick up beef and when I came back he was gone.”  

Jett scrambles near the back door, hauling boxes of beef into the walkin freezer as your eyes dart between him and Eddie, a certain queasiness forming in your stomach.  Eddie continues pulling supplies out and though it's within your rights to demand to return to your original position in the front, you can’t, the words won’t come out.  

“So you’re gonna flip burgers, Jett and I will be in and out to help while also holding it down out there.”

“I don’t even know how to ‘flip burgers’!”  

It comes out less hostile and more alarmed, your eyes feigning apprehension at the current inconsistency of the place.  In any other circumstance you should leave, quit with your dignity intact however that is not an option and you are in no position to be calling any shots; you begged for this job, afterall.

“You don’t know how to flip burgers.”  He deadpans.

“I-”

“You ever flipped a pancake?”

It’s not a genuine question, more of a mockery of your simpleminded excuse.  His head drops to catch your line of sight that had been previously shooting around the colorless kitchen, saturated in grays and whites that would drive anyone mad.  

“That’s not what I meant–”  You proclaim, setting your tray on an unoccupied work top.

“Just–cook the meat.  Make sure it’s not raw.”

As if that wasn’t the whole point of ‘cooking’ it.  This guy must have thought you had mush for brains yet he was the one with a crumbling structure of a business just based on what you’ve experienced in one night.  One hour, even.  You were starting to miss the senior citizens from the previous evening that appeared to have had a great deal of patience in comparison to the younger crowd that seemed to have more audacity and a shorter attention span.

“But what about–”

“Stop asking questions!  Just follow my lead.”  He demands, rushing out to the back, the door propped open so he could assist Jett in retrieving the remaining boxes from his truck.

What lead?  There was no lead.  Only chaos.

You idled next to the grill, shuffling your feet against the grimy tiles beneath you and taking notice of the astonishingly disgusting drain on the floor, coated in some kind of copper-colored grease.  At least if Eddie came back in to yell at you for not doing anything, you had the excuse of manning the grill, ensuring his precious bar didn’t burn to the ground though metaphorically, it already was.  What else were you supposed to do?  

–

You were sure the smell of beef, onions and cheese were going to be crusted into your hair for eternity when all was said and done.  Eddie and Jett had been taking turns walking you through the steps of creating this so-called famous burger and after a few mutilated testers, you eventually got the hang of it and it became a game of rinse and repeat.  Sometimes an order for a rare cooked burger would come in and you could only hope that you cooked it just enough that it wouldn’t bring on a nasty case of food poisoning to whoever had requested it.

Eddie stood behind you at the fryer, back to you while putting together another batch of fries to store under the heat lamps while you pieced together yet another burger, setting it along the space designated for finished meals along with its corresponding ticket underneath.  Eddie dumped some fries onto the plate before swiping it up and delivering it to its table.  When he quickly came back in to repeat the same motions, a question lingered in the back of your mind and it only made sense to ask it.

“Why am I on burger duty?”  You question, mentally facepalming at the phrasing you chose.

“Come again?”  He gives you another chance.

“I-I mean, if I’m brand new, why put me in charge of one of the most important things on the menu?  Why don’t you cook and I keep serving?”  

It seemed like a valid concern, only your first day and suddenly you’ve moved up to head of the kitchen?  Okay, maybe not head of the kitchen but that’s how it felt when thing one and thing two were constantly rotating out and mainly only managing fries and other small bar foods that were simple enough to make in big batches.  The grease from it all felt prominent on your skin, and you feared your sweat was going to become one with the vegetable oil.

“Every person out there knows me.  And I know them.  I know how to butter them up.”  He explains, a rogue curl escaping his messy bun in the mayhem of it all as he dumps another large portion of potatoes into the fryer.  “You…well, you know.”

It’s uncertain whether that was meant to be an insult or simply him losing his train of thought.  Either way, you didn’t read much into it, only nodding hesitantly.

“Don’t worry, we’ll throw you back to the wolves in no time.”  Eddie half jokes, exiting the kitchen once again, this time with plates balanced on his forearms and palms, Jett zooming past him to start up another round of wings.

“So, how are you enjoying hell?”  He laughs, giving his hands a good scrub down.

“Oh, it’s amazing.”  You exaggerate, piling some cheddar cheese high on top of the charred meat, topping it off with jalapenos and a bun, then plating it up with some fries.

“Well, I promise it’s not like this every shift.  And contrary to what you may have seen tonight, Eddie’s a good boss.  Just kinda cranky but you learn to ignore it.”

“I’ll pretend I didn’t hear that.”  The man in question rushes by, heading for the walk-in freezer, yet again counting in threes, this time using his fingers as well.

–

As promised, you were sent back up to the front once things had slowed down, the bar emptying out aside from a few regulars that had straggled behind.  It was a manageable workload between three people, plus Jett was able to offer a little more in depth training behind the bar as well as giving you the official tour of The Bourbon.  

There was the main room where all the action was, dimly lit to create a nice ambience littered in knick knacks that decorated the walls, torn band posters covering the ceiling along with some Christmas lights.  Of course there was a pool table though you hadn’t witnessed any intense games in your short time here.  Jett took the liberty of educating you on the kitchen a little further should anything of tonight’s nature happen again.  You learned where everything was kept for their small but cherished menu, where the storage closet containing all the cleaning supplies was as well as the back office which was only reserved for Eddie according to Jett.  Lastly, he showed you the dumpsters, in case you happened to be on trash duty and he even gave you strict instructions on how to close them back up so animals wouldn’t rummage.

Now you were back behind the bar, being taught to make the signature drink, an old fashioned containing cinnamon, nutmeg, and ginger.  You could appreciate it, a bit spicy and a touch smooth, accompanying that burnt wood taste that would get you there fast.  It wasn’t a difficult drink to make however, perfecting the presentation was what set you back.  You couldn’t simply toss a cherry and an orange twist into the liquor, it had to be done tastefully.  Or that’s how Jett explained it, claiming that those were Eddie’s words.  The drink was in a way, an art and you couldn’t be sloppy with it, not by The Bourbon’s standards.

A  hectic night of becoming a makeshift cook, training as a server, and an intake of so much new information would do a number on anyone and the bags under your eyes clearly showed the physical exhaustion you were experiencing.  You didn’t think you ever worked so hard even at the diner back at home during rush hour.

“Little lamb made it through the night.”

Tilting your head up from the cocktail before you momentarily, you’re met with that pair of intimidating but gorgeous eyes, nearly black in the low lighting of the bar.  It was interesting, you’d seen many brown eyes in your lifetime but none of them resembled something quite like the universe he held in his, his outlook on things noticeably different from the average person.  He had taken a seat at one of the stools on the opposite side of the bar from you, some paperwork laid out in front of him as he began scribbling something down.  All you could offer him was the raise of your brow in acknowledgement of his presence, too engaged in perfecting the cherries on the toothpick just right, balancing them on the rim of the glass like a circus act.  

“They’re too close together.”  Eddie remarks, his gaze glued to the paper he had been marking up, an inventory list you notice at a second glance. 

“Hmm?”  You might as well have been in your own world, some kind of trance caused by fatigue pulling at your muscles and overworked mind.  

“Cherries.  They’re unbalanced.”

For a man of such few words, he still seemed to say a lot.  The attitude ingrained in his tone never appeared to let up and it felt as if something was either always bugging him or losing his interest.  Never content, always sour and sharp-tongued.  

“Oh.”  You sigh in defeat, as if it were impossible to simply pick up the toothpick resting against the glass and your finger and move the cherries, solving the case of the wobbling toothpick.

Jett emerged next to you after participating in some small talk with a regular at the end of the bar, a grin on his youthful face despite what a shit show the night had been.  So far you observed that he was something of an optimist, smiling his way through tough situations.  It was refreshing.

“There you go!”  He praises, gesturing greatly to the drink you’d just created.  Your third try at it. 

“Jett, you’re bein’ a shitty example.  Leaving your sheep unattended.”  Eddie grumbles, sticking a toothpick in his mouth.  You’d be lying if you said you wished he’d stop sticking toothpicks in his damn mouth.  Well, half-lying.  You’d admit he looked good chewing on a tiny piece of wood but he did it far too often.

Wait…sheep?  Were you the sheep?  Was this a jab at you?  You’d just spent the night keeping this place afloat and he was insulting you once again?

“Munson, I’d say I’m doing just fine considering you left us without a fuckin’ cook the whole night.”  Jett defends.  You want to grimace, knowing this wasn’t the standard when talking to your boss but Eddie seemed unphased while the boy kept grinning at him as he leaned against the bar.  “Plus, it seems like this sheep kicked ass on only her first day.”  He nudges your shoulder with his, sliding the drink you’d just concocted in front of Eddie.  You smiled in appreciation of his kind words.

“I didn’t leave you without a cook.  Cook fuckin’ left without telling anyone.”  He reasons, immediately throwing half the drink back in one swig.  

Please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty, please don’t taste shitty.

“And I guess you proved not to be as dainty as I thought.”  Eddie admits to you, throwing the rest of the drink back.  No complaints yet.  Only what you could make out to be a compliment.

“So can she stay?”  Jett pleads, bottom lip jutted out for emphasis.  He seemed to have taken a liking to you but then again, the place was short staffed so maybe he was just desperate to have anyone help out.

Eddie looks up from his list, pen tapping against the bar top with annoyance.  There was still no indication whether the old fashioned had been any good or not, seemingly forgotten about amongst the conversation and it was quietly eating at you.  The need for validation.

“That’s up to her, kid.” 

Both pairs of eyes landed on you, anticipating your answer.

“Well, uh, I dunno.”  You shrug.  “Was I even any good at making a drink?”  Like you had a choice in accepting the job, this is all you had.

“I dunno.”  Eddie replies, sliding the glass back over to you.  “Try again, let's see.”

“That’s a yes.”  Jett chimes in.  “Big boy wants a refill.”

“Jett, I will personally give you a swirly.”  There’s a glimpse of humor in Eddie’s tone, the smallest you’ve seen within him so far though you refrained from giggling.

“Oh, a swirly?  Real mature.”  Jett mocks, Eddie quietly snorting a laugh in response.  

His smile was cute.  

And it may be the first time you’d seen a genuine one from him.  He had dimples, deep, deep dimples.  It was a wonder why he didn’t put them on display more.

In the midst of the banter, you began whipping up another old fashioned, The Bourbon way.  You figured it wouldn’t be your place to insert yourself among the jokes, being the new girl.  It was best to keep quiet until you blended in a bit more.  Several customers throughout the night had already initiated conversation stating they’d never seen you before and you didn’t need to draw any more attention to yourself than you’d already received.

“Make it a double?”  Eddie interrupts your process.

Again you look up to meet those large eyes, practically black holes absorbing any and all light aside from a tiny sparkle you found that survived within them.  He was asking and not demanding.  He owned the whole damn place and yet he was asking you to make it a double when he could very well just tell you.

“Yeah.”  You whisper, unsure of yourself.  A double just meant…well, double, right?

So you turn to Jett who was now scrubbing at an especially sticky spot on the bar.  He didn’t take any notice in your silent plea much to your regret.  You looked like an idiot, pondering over what exactly the measurements should be since today's training didn’t exactly cover what to do should someone ask for a double.  At least you knew how to use the entirety of the kitchen though…

“Just another shot.”  Eddie instructs, emotionless.

With a nod, you kick right into action, using what you learned and putting it to use while remembering to add an additional shot and not completely overlook it in your uneasiness.  You didn’t care to peer up at him once more, uncertain if he was still watching your every move and unsure whether he would reprimand you for making one mistake in crafting his drink.  He said nothing so it was safe to assume he had resumed filling out his boring paperwork.

“See, she’s a natural!”  Jett applauds upon turning back toward you as you carefully pierce the cherries with a toothpick, balancing them just how Eddie had taught you.  

It really wasn’t rocket science and you could feel the humiliation seep into your bones at the thought of him judging you for simply not being able to figure out why they kept falling in before.  You were by no means a natural.

“You’re gonna be the new favorite, I can already tell.  Everyone’s gonna love ya.”  Though Jett’s words are appreciated and far too kind, you can’t help but doubt his confidence in you.

You were used to being a fly on the wall, observing and keeping to yourself among loud personalities.  And you were okay with that.  Being so removed grants you the ability to perceive everyone else without barely even being perceived yourself.  It was flattering, the way Jett talked you up having only known you for a few hours but you knew you were nothing special.  He was just being nice and most likely picked up on your anxious undertones.

Eddie remained mute, continuing to scribble away at the paper in front of him as if you and Jett weren’t there.  Just as silent, you slid the drink over into his peripheral before occupying your hands with a rag to wipe up any remnants caused by your shaky hands.  He only scanned the drink over once before tapping his pen against the counter, three times.  Always in threes.  

Awaiting his consensus on your bartending, you pretend to pay no mind, as though his opinion is the last thing on earth you would want.  Really, it’s all you want.  To know if you exceeded at crafting the bar’s signature drink or if you failed so miserably that he wouldn't let you behind the bar again.  After all, your official job title would be ‘server’ and server’s didn’t generally make drinks, they served.  But this wasn’t a normal bar and it seemed everyone was performing more than one job at a time so if you had to make drinks you might as well be somewhat good at it.  And if not, it could render you useless in his perception, seeing as he’d already underestimated you before.

When he finally takes a sip, large hand wrapped around the glass, you refrain from sucking in a breath because although he had already had one, he gulped it down like water.  This time it seemed he was performing a quality check.

“Good.”  His monotone voice doesn’t convey much other than you’ve at least satisfied him to some extent.  But that's it.

Next to you, Jett celebrates again before tending to another customer and then yelling out for the last call.  Eddie’s focus doesn’t budge from his work while he sips away at his drink, this time nurturing it rather than greedily throwing it all back.

–

Some time around 12:30 AM Jett had dashed out after the bar received a phone call from his mom complaining that the racoons had stormed their barn and came too close to threatening their chicken coop again.  With all patrons now gone and only cleaning and closing left to be done, Eddie dismissed him from work and told him to get a better handle on the raccoon situation seeing as it happened three times in the past month.  Jett muttered something about how raccoons are relentless and how they will find a way if they really want to on his way out.  

With one last wipe down of the tables and a thorough cleaning of the bar top, all that was left on your mental checklist given to you courtesy of Eddie was making sure behind the bar was organized and pristine for the following day, bottles accounted for, and glasses washed and dried.  He was absent for a good thirty minutes but you concluded he was doing his share in the kitchen as you heard the clanging of metal on metal and a few curses every now and then when there was an extra loud crash. 

The sudden crackle of a speaker and booming music startles you, a glass nearly slipping out of your grasp at the sound.  A harsh metal song blares through the bar, guitar wailing and bass vibrating, causing a few bottles to gently clink against each other on the shelf.  Seconds later, Eddie came sauntering out from the back office with a broom in hand and a cigarette hanging from his bottom lip, unlit.  

You try to ignore whatever he may be up to but find it impossible not to look up from the glass you were polishing off.  His hair was unruly, now out of the confines of a bun and seeming to have only gotten bigger throughout the night and–he wasn’t using the broom for sweeping.  Instead, he crawled on top of a freshly cleaned table with his dirty, clunky boots and poked at something in the rafters, tugging it forward.  You wanted to be mad that he was stepping on your freshly scrubbed table but you couldn’t help but be curious, pausing your motions to stare and try to predict his next move.  

The end of the broom was looped under the handle of a small wooden box and his arm stretched out to open it before pulling some cash out of his pocket and sticking it in the box.  Then he closed it back up and shoved it back into place, out of sight.  Once he jumped down off the table, he began walking toward the back again, stopping in his tracks when he realized you were standing there watching him the whole time.  

A puff of air escapes his lips, his bangs briefly blowing upward before resting back against his forehead.  You tear your gaze away, now more interested in cleaning water droplets off of another glass.  Your heart pounding, his footsteps only inch closer and closer and yet again, he is on the opposite side of the bar from you, staring you down.  It was obvious he had forgotten you were there.  The unlit cigarette is plucked from his lips in between his fingers and tucked behind his ear.

“You didn’t see that.  If it goes missing, I’ll know it was you.”  He speaks so gruffly and low, as if someone might hear despite the place being empty.

Nodding in submission, you can’t bring yourself to catch his fierce gaze.

“Yeah?”  Eddie pushes for a verbal response, more intensity to his tone.

“Yes.”  You chirp.  Like a pathetic little bird.  

Satisfied with your answer, he hums, resting the broom against a stool before making his way around the bar, pulling a rag out of his back pocket and assisting you with wiping down the remaining glasses.  There had to have been at least a dozen left and by the looks of it, he had finished his tasks and wanted to get out of here.  So you worked in silence, side by side.

It felt like an eternity but it must have only been two minutes later when you began to feel antsy.  Like you were supposed to initiate a friendly conversion.  Some kind of bullshit small talk.  And then your better judgment kicks in, telling you ‘better not’ since the man beside you didn’t seem like the small talk type.  In all fairness you weren’t either but it felt like you had to constantly conform to certain standards.  Then your mouth started running without a second thought because one thought provoked you and now you just had to know.

“So…the bingo night…is that a regular thing?”

A side eye from him may as well have shot daggers directly into you, his movements pausing as he scowled.  So you backtracked.

“N-nevermind–”

“Yes.”  He answers abruptly, much to your surprise.

“Oh.”  

Your voice comes out soft, as if trying not to spook an animal.  And for as annoyed as he looks, he’s the one who answered after you attempted to give him an out.  He was a very conflicting man, hard to read and mysterious.  

“Every Wednesday.  The senior home wants its residents to get out every now and then.”

“And…they chose a bar?”  A smile tugs at your lips, one that you can’t help.

“What’s wrong with that?”  

His face shows offense but his tone holds some kind of amusement, the slightest bit of personality seeping through the cracks and exposing itself to you.

“I just–nothing, it’s just, out of every place they could choose…a bar?”  You couldn’t wrap your head around the idea, shaking your head.

“I mean, we’re the only place that offered.”  

There’s a genuine kind of hurt behind his words.  You’re unable to determine if it was directed toward your question or something else wading through his mind.  Or if it was even meant to slip out in any way based on how closed off he was.  Your guess was that his sudden projection of an emotion was a slip up and that it was up to you to ignore it otherwise he’d give you an even harder time.

“Oh.”  Again, your soft spoken voice carries itself gently to his ears.  “That’s…nice.  Really nice.”  You say honestly, glancing at him.

For having such tough armor and such offputting behavior, Eddie was pretty.  His curls were messy and appeared to be pieced apart by his fingers running through them constantly, leaving them fuzzy and unkempt.  But still appealing.  And his side profile illuminated by the warm lights was soft but still manly, handsome.  He was good looking, there was no denying that.  His personality was rather repelling though and good looks could only get you so far, not that he was flaunting how attractive he was and using it to his benefit.  

Coming out of your trance, you find that you’re both down to the last few glasses, silence taking over once again.  Out of the corner of your eye, you take notice of the way Eddie’s mouth forms numbers again, without sound.

One, two, three.  One, two, three.  One, two, three.

All mouthed as he seems to breathe unevenly.  You don’t draw any attention to your observation much like earlier when you’d caught him doing the same thing.  There were depths to him that you were beginning to feel were unexplored by anyone other than himself.  A loneliness detected beneath the surface of his solid and impenetrable armor.

~end~

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[kiarastromboli]

𝐁𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐨𝐧:

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐡𝐬 𝐨𝐟 𝐎𝐛𝐬𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧.

𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐭 𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐨𝐥𝐨 𝐱 𝐲/𝐧

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝕄𝕒𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕝𝕚𝕤𝕥

𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘: jealous!reader, stalker!Matt, just a bit suggestive 🤏🏼

𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: Y/N will meet Sarah, who doesn't seem to particularly please her, and after spending the morning waiting for him, our two main characters will finally be able to enjoy their dates together.

ℕ𝕠𝕥𝕖: I know the really spicy part takes time to arrive, but don't worry, it's coming soon.

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟏, 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝟐.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐢𝐭𝐫𝐞 𝟑:

Here we are, Saturday.

This morning when I woke up, I was in high spirits. I was going to spend my day with her, well, at least half of my day, given that I still had to work this morning.

Last night, I had a lot of trouble falling asleep; I couldn't stop thinking about today and how it would go. I was apprehensive, expecting both the best and the worst, but I really didn't know what to expect. Even though she had made advances, Caleb, her so-called friend, had clearly hinted that he also wanted the place I coveted.

So naturally, I spent my night on social media trying to find Caleb's accounts to learn more about him. And to be honest, it wasn't very difficult to find.

"Caleb_the.1, seriously?" I thought when I found his Instagram account. This guy was so self-centered it almost made me want to vomit.

His bio consisted of bro-ish phrases to show that he was an alpha athlete above the others, it was ridiculous to the point of being laughable. How can you hang out with this kind of guy, y/n? Seriously, aren't you ashamed?

Scrolling through his profile, I found about fifteen shirtless photos of him, of course, it goes without saying. And honestly, it's not very prudent of him to expose his life so much on social media. In less than five minutes, I knew which gyms he frequented, his favorite restaurants, and all the places he liked to go daily, giving me the opportunity to learn a little more about him.

But for now, he'll have to wait. My priority is y/n, and I'll deal with his case after our appointment.

"You're late!" Sarah said to me when I arrived at the bookstore.

"Sorry, traffic was jammed this morning," I lied. I didn't have an excuse; I was late only because I spent an extra 20 minutes scrolling through Caleb's profile this morning to learn more.

"Matt, since when does traffic matter to you when you're on your bike??" she said, confused.

"It's none of your business, Sarah, stop asking me questions," I said, shaking my head.

"Yeah, you're lucky I'm your friend; otherwise, I would've fired you!" she said before turning around and going back to her tasks.

It's true; I'm lucky to have a friend like Sarah. I probably don't think enough about thanking her.

I went back to my post and continued my morning, chatting a bit with her; there weren't many customers today.

"Matt, you're lying; you're not going to tell me you've never thought about that before!" Sarah said, shocked that I've never had any weird fantasies about a celebrity.

"No, never, and I find it weird that you were obsessed with Zac Efron until the end of high school!" I said, laughing.

"First of all, I wasn't obsessed! I just had a little crush on him, and secondly, everyone had a crush on that guy back then!" she said, justifying herself.

Meanwhile, I hadn't noticed, but someone had entered the shop at that moment.

"Yeah, in middle school, Sarah, not in high school!" I replied, laughing.

"Screw you, Matty!" she said, chuckling and giving me a light push.

We were interrupted by the voice of a newcomer behind us.

"Hey," she said, her voice a bit sharp.

I immediately turned around, recognizing y/n's voice.

But something was different; her voice wasn't as gentle as usual, and I couldn't see her usual smile.

"Oh, hi, y/n," I replied, smiling.

"Um, this is Sarah, my colleague. I didn't know you'd come so soon," I said, scratching my neck.

"Hi," Sarah said, smiling and extending her hand.

"I've got my hands full, sorry," y/n said to Sarah, giving her some sort of fake smile.

"Yeah, I thought I'd come a little earlier to bring you some coffee," y/n said, turning to me.

"Oh, um, thanks, you didn't have to," I said timidly.

"No, of course, I insist. It's the least I can do after you gave me a ride home last time!" she said, casting a fleeting glance at Sarah.

I'm not sure what game she's playing, but I don't get the feeling she likes Sarah too much.

"Yeah, well, I'll leave you guys. I still have a lot of work. Matt, don't linger too long; we still have to do inventory," Sarah said before leaving us.

A brief silence ensued before I decided to speak.

"It's really nice of you to get the coffee, y/n," I said, smiling.

"It's nothing, I got you a decaf," she said, handing me my coffee.

"Wow, wait, this is my favorite. How did you know—" I started to say before she cut me off.

"Just lucky, I guess," she said, smiling.

Maybe this girl knows me a little better than I thought. I thought I was harder to read than that.

"Well, thank you very much. I finish in 2 hours. If you want, you can browse the bookstore while you wait for me," I said.

"That works out perfectly; I was in the mood to read today," she said, smiling before heading off to explore the bookstore.

It was nice working with her around. We exchanged little glances, and most of the time, she would smile at me.

Honestly, I could get used to working under these conditions.

"Matt, focus. I don't mind you having your friends over here, but I can't handle the customers and inventory all by myself!" Sarah said, getting annoyed, interrupting yet another exchange of glances with y/n.

"Sorry, if you want, I'll take care of the inventory and close the shop today," I said, trying to make amends.

"Okay, but hurry up. We have 45 minutes left before closing, and there's still a stack of books in the back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Yes, ma'am," I said, smiling, and she couldn't help but smile back before I went to do what I needed to do in the back room.

POV of Sarah:

I watched Matt walk into the back room, smiling and shaking my head. How could I stay mad at him after all?

Anyway, I headed back to the counter to tidy up the things lying around when I noticed Matt's friend heading towards the back room.

"Hey, sorry, but you can't go in there," I said, stopping her in her tracks and pointing to the sign on the door that specified "Employees Only."

She stopped and turned to face me.

"Sasha, right?" she said, crossing her arms.

"It's Sarah," I replied.

"Yeah, whatever, Sarah. Have you had feelings for Matt for a long time?" she asked, catching me off guard.

"W-what?" I said, furrowing my brows.

"Let's not play this little game, please. It's not going to work with me. You and I both know you have a huge crush on him, and frankly, it's pathetic. You can see he's not interested in you, so I suggest you keep your distance and let those who actually have a chance take theirs," she said, staring me in the eyes.

I didn't even know how to respond. I couldn't deny it; everything she had just said was true. But there were much better ways to say it.

There was something off about this girl. She had this threatening air about her towards me when I hadn't done anything to her.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go join Matt," she said, before striding off and pushing through the door without giving me a chance to say anything.

Back to Matt's POV:

I heard the door open, thinking it was Sarah coming to say goodbye.

"What, already? It's closing time, and I haven't finished the inventory yet!" I said before seeing y/n appear.

"Oh, it's you," I said, a bit surprised because she had no reason to be here.

"Yeah, I asked Sarah if I could come give you a hand," she said, smiling.

"And she said yes?" I asked, surprised because Sarah is usually strict about the rules, so it would have been strange for her to let y/n in without any objections.

She paused for a moment as if she was taking time to think before answering me.

"No," she said, chuckling, "I waited for her to turn her back before sneaking in here," she confessed, and I laughed.

"I feel like you're going to get me into trouble," I said, smiling.

"Come on, it's not like I'm going to steal any books. Plus, I think it's stupid to restrict access; it's just a back room," she said, rolling her eyes.

"And honestly, I find your colleague rather annoying," she said before covering her mouth.

"Sorry, I spoke before thinking," she said, embarrassed, and I chuckled at her action.

I couldn't help but find it cute.

"Firstly, access is restricted because there are some pretty old books here, the kind that should absolutely not be touched unless you're a professional," I began to explain.

"And secondly, yes, Sarah can be annoying, I'll give you that, but she can also be really nice. I'm sure you'd get along great with her," I said, continuing to do the inventory.

"We'll see about that later. For now, let me help you with all this so we can finally go for a ride on the bike," she said, chuckling before coming to help me.

With y/n's help, I managed to finish the inventory just in time for closing.

As we were about to leave the back room, Sarah shot me a look and nodded towards a section of the bookstore, indicating she wanted to talk to me privately.

"I'm going to do one last round in the aisles just to make sure everything's in order before closing. Wait for me here," I said to y/n, realizing Sarah wanted to talk to me alone.

I walked over, and she pulled me a bit further into the bookstore to ensure y/n couldn't overhear us.

"Hey, what's going on?" I said, chuckling.

"Listen, Matt, I'm your friend, and as such, I can't keep this to myself, you understand?" she began, confusing me.

"Your friend y/n, or whatever she is to you, I don't trust her. You shouldn't hang out with her; that girl is really weird," she said.

Here we go.

Seriously, Sarah, instead of being happy for me, you're having a jealousy fit?

"Okay, I don't know where you're going with this, Sarah, but y/n is a great person, and I won't let you badmouth her just because you're jealous," I said, rolling my eyes.

"Jealous? Matt, she threatened me earlier, specifically telling me to stay away from you! I'm not jealous!" she said, getting annoyed.

My y/n do something like that?

It's not possible; she's way too kind and gentle to threaten someone. I knew Sarah had a crush on me, but I didn't think it was to the point where she'd throw a jealousy fit as soon as I was with another woman.

It disappoints me to see her acting this way; I thought we were past that.

"Whatever you say. I'm done with this," I said, rolling my eyes before turning to leave, but she grabbed my arm.

"If you don't want to believe me, that's your problem, but I'm telling you, Matthew, there's something strange about that girl. You should stay on your guard," she said before letting go of my arm and going to collect her things to leave the bookstore.

I stood there for a moment, feeling confused, before joining y/n.

"Is everything okay?" she asked, smiling.

"Yeah, ready to go?" I asked her, returning her smile, and she nodded.

Once the bookstore was closed, y/n and I hit the road before stopping at Central Park.

"Central Park, you couldn't have found a more cliché place," she said, chuckling once she removed her helmet.

"I thought it was the company that mattered, not the place," I said, pretending to be offended.

"Okay, don't start, Matt!" she said, pointing her finger at me, and I smiled.

"You know what, there's a pretty nice museum nearby. Let's go there," she suggested.

"So, no stroll in the park," I said, putting on a falsely sad face.

"We'll do that after your park stroll, idiot. Come on, follow me," she said, rolling her eyes.

We walked for a few minutes before finding ourselves in front of the museum she mentioned.

We entered and strolled around, observing the artworks. It was at this moment that I learned something new about y/n—she's been passionate about photography since she was a child.

We spent a good two hours in the museum, chatting about everything and anything. We almost forgot that lunchtime had long passed.

"Oh my God, it's 1:30 in the afternoon, and we still haven't eaten," she said, chuckling when she checked the time on her phone after leaving the museum.

"Really?" I asked, surprised, and she nodded.

"That's your fault; you talk way too much," I said, chuckling.

"Yeah, like you don't love that," she said, rolling her eyes.

"Are you hungry?" I asked her, smiling.

"A little, and you?" she said, looking me in the eyes.

"A bit," I replied, shrugging.

"Hmm..." she hummed thoughtfully, scanning the surroundings.

"Look, a hot dog stand!" she said excitedly, pointing at the stand before grabbing me by the arm and running towards it.

"And you thought strolling in Central Park was cliché, huh?" I teased once we arrived at the stand.

"Shut up," she said, smiling, before turning to the vendor.

"Two hot dogs, please!" she said cheerfully to the vendor.

"So, I don't even get to choose my meal?" I frowned.

"No, just be quiet and take what I give you!" she said with a smirk, and I chuckled.

"No ketchup!" she added to the vendor as he reached for the sauce compartment.

I hate ketchup, but I don't think I've ever told her that.

She grabbed the hot dogs and paid before I could say anything.

"Ugh, sorry, I hate ketchup, I didn't think to ask if you wanted any," she said, handing me my hot dog.

So it was just a coincidence? You and I probably have much more in common than I could have imagined...

The more time I spend with you, the harder it is for me to believe that you're not the literal definition of perfection, y/n.

"It's okay; I don't like ketchup either anyway," I said, smiling.

"Really??" she said, surprised.

"Yeah, I can't stand it," I said, chuckling.

"Or maybe you're just trying to copy me, huh? I see what you're trying to do, Matty!" she said, narrowing her eyes before taking a bite of her hot dog.

Matty, so we're already at the nickname stage?

"Yeah, that must be it. Keep dreaming," I said, shaking my head and taking a bite of my hot dog.

We continued our little walk to the park.

"Can I be honest with you?" she said, turning to me.

"Go ahead, I'm listening," I replied.

"These hot dogs are really terrible," she said, grimacing, and I laughed.

"I agree," I replied, and she laughed too.

"But I really want to finish them; I hate wasting food!" she said, pouting like a little girl.

Y/n, if only you knew how much you softened my heart.

"It's alright, sweetheart; I'll finish it for you if you can't," I said, smiling.

"Matt, you're so cute, bro," she said, blushing before turning her head.

"Bro?" I chuckled. "That hurts."

"What were you hoping for?" she said, rolling her eyes. "That I'd call you baby?" she said, smiling.

"Okay, go ahead, mock me some more," I said.

"With pleasure, baby," she said with a smirk.

"You're not funny, y/n," I said, finishing my hot dog.

"Maybe, but you adore me anyway," she shrugged, offering me her hot dog for me to eat as agreed.

"I can't deny that," I replied, taking her hot dog.

We continued our walk, chatting about everything and nothing.

I wasn't usually talkative, but with her, everything was so effortless. I loved listening to her; she always had something interesting to say.

She was full of surprises, always having a different opinion or perspective on the world, which made me feel less alone.

"Oh, Matt, look, an ice cream stand!" she said, hopping.

"You're such a child, y/n, you know that?" I chuckled.

"Yeah, I love life, sue me for it," she said, raising her hands sarcastically.

I shook my head before following her to the ice cream stand.

"Oh my god, they have rose-flavored ice cream, it's my favorite scent; you absolutely have to try it!" she said excitedly.

"I don't really feel like ice cream," I started to say before she cut me off to talk to the vendor.

"Two rose-flavored ice creams, please," she said, turning to me with a big smile.

I looked at her bewildered before bursting into laughter; she's completely insane, but I love it.

"Here you go," she said, handing me my ice cream before happily continuing to walk in the park.

How can she have so much energy and smile so much?

It's true; this girl was like a sun; she lit up every place she went.

And me, on the contrary, I felt like I was the moon next to her.

"So, how is it?" she said, smiling, referring to my ice cream.

"Delicious," I replied.

"See, I knew you'd like it," she said proudly.

"Oh, wait, you have some ice cream right there," she said, chuckling before approaching me.

Standing on tiptoes, she placed her hand on my cheek and used the finger of her other hand to wipe the ice cream from the corner of my mouth.

"Here," she said, looking into my eyes and offering me her finger with the ice cream to lick.

Her gaze and expression changed at that moment.

What are you playing at, y/n? Is this your way of making suggestive gestures towards me? If so, you have absolutely no idea the effect you're having on me right now.

I took her finger into my mouth without breaking eye contact, and she bit her lip.

I can't be imagining things; she's not as innocent as she pretends to be.

She then returned to standing normally on both feet before taking a bite of her ice cream, still looking me straight in the eyes.

Fuck, does it really take so little to get me hard?

"Mmmh, my favorite," she said, closing her eyes before turning around and starting to walk again as if nothing had happened.

Is that all? Are you going to leave me hanging like this?

If you only knew how much I dreamed of being in your ice cream's place right now, y/n...

From that moment on, it was difficult for me to focus on what she was saying. My mind was filled with ideas... of all kinds.

But regardless, we resumed our conversation, stopping on a bench to finish our ice creams.

"Fuck," she said, taking her phone to check the notification she had just received in the middle of our conversation.

"What's wrong?" I asked her.

"It's my dad, he needs me for his charity gala next weekend," she said with a sigh.

"His charity gala?" I asked.

"Yeah, it's something my dad organizes every year. It's a big event where he invites his most influential friends to raise funds for cancer research," she replied.

"Oh, um, do you want me to drop you off?" I offered.

"I'm really sorry to cut our outing short like this," she said with a sad look.

"Hey, it's okay, don't worry about it. We can hang out again this week," I said, putting my hand on her back and smiling.

"You're the best," she said, hugging me, and we headed back towards my bike this time.

"Where do you want me to drop you?" I asked as I put on my helmet.

"Take me home, I need to pick up some stuff anyway," she said, putting on her helmet as well.

We got on my bike, and I started driving towards her place.

This time, she seemed to hold on to me a little tighter, as if she didn't want this moment to end.

Oh, so you'd do anything to not have to leave either?

Once we arrived at her apartment complex, I parked, and she got off, taking off her helmet.

"I really hate that I have to go. I wish I could stay with you," she said, looking down at the ground.

I took off my helmet before responding.

"Y/n, you have important things to do, and I'm not going anywhere. You'll come back to me when you have time," I said, placing my hands on her cheeks without thinking.

She looked up at me, and damn, how badly I wanted to kiss her.

Is that what I should do? She's not saying anything anymore, maybe that's what she's waiting for from me?

"Thank you, Matt," she said softly, smiling after several seconds of staring into each other's eyes without saying anything before stepping back and turning to go inside her place.

And I missed my chance again, what an idiot.

Next time, I promise you, y/n, I won't let my chance slip away.

⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱✮♱⋆♱

Taglist: @mayhem-72 @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @bernardenjoyer @whicked-hazlatwhore @nicksmainbitch @vickyzloserz @stingerayyy2

[bts-hyperfixation]

Outside of the Fox

Chapter 38 of????

2634 words

Y/N longs for a new life when the one she’d been living comes to an abrupt stop. Without much thought to those she is leaving behind, the little fox packs a backpack and disappears. She stumbles across the shelter and makes an interim home for herself while she works out exactly what she wants from her second chance.

Last

You wake up to the same squeezing feeling settled around your chest, although that could also be the weight of Jungkook's arms as the bunny holds you tightly even in his sleep. 

All things considered, you had slept quite soundly, you just wish someone had told your body that as it tries to tell you how exhausted you are. 

You do your best to worm your way out of the youngest's embrace, disturbing him only slightly before he turns around and gathers Jimin into his arms instead. You take one more look at their sleeping forms before tip-toeing out of the room. No one is sitting in the living room making your escape easier as you slip silently through to the front door. 

You aren't really sure where you are going, you just know one more minute in the house is going to make you combust. So you walk for a while, you pass your old office, pass the restaurant you went to the day you met  Jimin, pass Hobi's karaoke shop. You continue going until nothing around you is familiar and then your stomach starts to growl. 

You walk into the first cafe you see and sit yourself in a booth at the back, taking a deep breath as you finally take stock of the position you are now in. The cafe is mostly empty with one other customer in the far corner and two waitresses who look more than a little annoyed that you have invaded their space. The elder of the two hands you a menu and waits to take your order. You barely take any notice, pointing to the first thing under the breakfast title. 

With nothing left to distract you from the fear, it starts creeping back in; A remnant phobia from the hybrid genes mixed with your sheltered childhood. An instinct that tells you to disappear before you're trapped again. 

Your mind runs through the previous day countless times. How ready you had been to fight for Taehyung and his freedom, only for his solution to be to trap you with him. The logical section of your brain tries to remind you that he is not trying to collect or ensnare you, that this may be his best shot to stay with you and the other members of your relationship. 

The emotional side of you however can't quite get over how much your new life has come to resemble your previous one. Living in someone else's home, no career to call your own, and now a convenient trophy on the arm of another rich man... 

A stack of pancakes is placed in front of your face bringing you out of your miserable monologue but instead of finding the aging waitress, you find Noelle beaming down at you.

"Y/N! Long time no see," She smiles.

The mouse hybrid invites herself to sit with you, sliding into the booth opposite.

"Although it feels like I'm all caught up with the amount Jimin talks about you at the shelter," 

She reaches out and takes a berry from the side of your plate. You do your best to smile in return at her, before today you may have actually been thrilled to see Noelle since she was right, it had been a long time. But right now didn't feel like a socialising time.

"Perhaps I'm not all caught up judging by that sour look in your eye... Maybe a new set of ears can help?" She offers.

"I don't know. It's a lot, I'm not sure I fully understand my issues, I wouldn't want to burden you,"

"You're my friend Y/N, you could never be a burden to me. And if you're not at home talking this out with the seven wonderful men that dote on your every whim, then I think you need the outside ear... Am I wrong?" 

Noelle takes your hand from the table and holds it in her own, doing her best to reassure you. 

You ponder it for a moment, but she is right an outside opinion might help your brain to rationalise, although perhaps you should think about booking your own session with Dr. Triever instead...

Still, you relay the entire situation starting from your 16th birthday all the way up to today. And she listens to you patiently, not interrupting once even when you stray from the main subject on to distracting details, although she does steal a few bites of your breakfast. 

"And so I've landed at the point where I know I have to marry Tae, and I love him so that's okay! I'm just having a lot of trouble getting my instincts to retreat. My hackles raise every time I think about it, and honestly it's making my back start to ache."

"Have you considered not saying yes to marrying Tae?" Noelle suggests.

"Of course not. If I don't marry him then he and that poor girl are going to be forced together. I know what that's like and I won't let it happen to someone I love." 

"No, you'll just let it happen to you a second time," She rolls her eyes. "Okay, let's start with an easier part of the equation. Jimin said you had put a lot of the funds behind the new renovations, doesn't that make it your house, not just theirs anymore?"

"I mean, I guess? But it's not what I had in mind. My name isn't on any of the paperwork for the land, and I really did think I was going to live all on my own in the world."

"Living on your own is not all it's cracked up to be, trust me. I'd give anything for a cuddle some nights, especially during storms," She shudders dramatically. "And you gave up your job yourself, but I'm 100% sure we could get you another one if that is an issue, but I think your brain is just searching for reasons to run. Really think about it, how much do you mind not working?"

You do think about it. And maybe spending your time in the house was far more satisfying than going to your nine to five. But it's still the principle of the matter. You had promised yourself that you were going to do it on your own. Now you've failed.

And that's really the crux of it. Not that you're living with the boys, not that you've dipped into your money, not that you find yourself suddenly betrothed. It's the fact that you have perceived yourself as failing. Unable to prove that you could take care of yourself in the big bad world that your parents worked so hard to protect you from. 

You let Noelle in on your thoughts as she finishes off your breakfast for you.

"The way I see it, you haven't failed yourself. You've just found something more suitable instead. But if your stomach is still in knots about it, it's better to run now than on the day of the wedding," She shrugs. 

"You make an excellent point," You concede.

________________

With the food gone, and your heart somewhat unsqueezed, you and Noelle head back into the world. You walk her back as far as the shelter. You intend to leave her at the door, but Jimin sees you through the window before you can make your escape.

You contemplate running, pretending you didn't see him. But a confrontation is on the cards either way and it's probably better to get it over with than let Jimin drive his colleagues insane through the course of the day. Plus the man is far faster than he looks and he is stood in your path before you would've been able to escape anyway.

"Where the hell did you go?" The redhead tries to sound stern, but his voice cracks in the middle, your heart along with it, "You didn't wake anyone, you didn't answer your phone, you didn't even leave a note. Why?"

"I couldn't breathe, I didn't really think about it, I just knew I had to move," You answer honestly.

He sighs and glances around you, noticing the audience that seems to be gathering in the windows

He wraps an arm around your waist pulling you into him, and his other hand lands in your hair smoothing it down. He shuffles the two of you into the shadows of the building instead of standing out in the open where anyone can look out and see you there.

"Obviously you're not okay so I'm not going to ask you that... Are you... Is there anything I can do?"

"No, it's not your problem it's mine."

"Was it the proposal? I think that caught us all off guard and Taehyung doesn't expect you to go through with it."

A dry laugh escapes your mouth before you can stop it. Jimin takes a step back and meets your eyes.

"You don't believe me?" 

"I believe you that he doesn't expect me to go through with it, but I think we all know that I have to... and I want to! honestly, I do. I'll do anything so you guys don't, so we don't, lose Taehyung. I just need to get my head around it."

"I think you should go home Y/N. Talk with Jin or Namjoon, although maybe avoid Kookie and Taehyung until you can lie more convincingly than you did to me just now," He pecks your forehead and lets you go fully, "I'm so glad you're safe."

He sends you away with a promise to text him when you return home. You drag your feet the entire way knowing that Jimin is right and you need to talk through everything with a voice of reason. Jin might be the obvious choice, while a clown the majority of the time, his clinical doctor side allows him to separate emotion from sensitive topics. Something tells you that he isn't what you need right now. 

So when you reach the main house you walk inside the unfinished building and straight into Namjoon's new office finding him sitting at his new oak desk, just stroking the wood. He startles as your hand lands on his shoulder. 

"Shit Y/N, where did you come from?" He clutches at his chest dramatically. 

You flop down onto the new armchair as you wait for him to recover from his mini heart attack. He sits silently observing you for a moment too long until you start to wiggle uncomfortably.

"Are you ready to talk about it?" He reaches out a hand and places it on your knee. 

You thought you were, but the concern in his voice makes you hesitate. You just shake your head in response instead. 

"Okay, then let's not talk. Stand up." He stands too. 

He switches places with you sitting down in the armchair and pulling you back into his lap. He manhandles you until you're curled up on his knees with your face nuzzled into his neck. His fingers trace patterns along your thighs and the two of you sit in silence. 

The tightness in your chest is still there, curling up in Namjoon's arms is doing nothing to assuage that feeling but it still feels nice everywhere else. You think about what Noelle said about finding a new goal for yourself and you let yourself sniff Namjoon's comforting firewood scent. 

"I missed you this morning," He whispers in your ear. 

 "I'm sorry,"

"Don't be sorry, you needed space and that's okay. I just wanted you to know I missed you," 

He pecks your cheek and you continue sitting in silence. The rope around your heart seems to release, just a little as you allow yourself this comfort. 

"I love you," You whisper.

"I love you too," He confirms.

"I love all of you,"

"But you aren't ready to marry Taehyung, or any of us for that matter." He guesses

"I don't think so no... But I can't let Taehyung leave. I know better than anyone how it feels to be in a marriage you didn't choose. And it's so much worse for Taehyung, no one ever threatened me, I didn't have anyone I loved that I had to leave."

"We can think of other solutions for Tae Y/N. We aren't going to let you put yourself in a situation you don't truly want ."

"You don't know families like Tae's, families like mine. There isn't another option. I'm just going to suck it up and marry Taehyung."

"Ah yes, what every man wants to hear his fiance 'suck it up and marry him'" Namjoon chuckles.

You roll your eyes at his unserious response and start to wonder whether you should have gone to see Jin instead. 

"Look, this whole situation sucks for all of us, but there are other options we need to consider as a family, this burden doesn't lie on you. Now tell me what else is going on, because the proposal may have been a catalyst but it isn't the whole problem, I can see it in your eyes." 

"It's nothing," You sigh 

"If it's something, then it's everything. You listen to all our problems so often but won't let us listen to yours." He chastises.

"That's because you guys have real problems, I have stupid insecurities that have no basis in reality. There is no point in me bothering you with superficial issues."

"if it bothers you then it's not superficial and you should be talking to one of us. It doesn't have to be me, but I would love nothing more than for you to be able to confide in me."

"Really Joonie it's silly." You assure him.

"Tell me anyway," he insists. 

You contemplate confessing more of your issues. Realistically you know that he does actually want to help you but you also know the burden he already holds, having everyone else's concerns on his shoulder, you want nothing more than to lighten the load for him, not pile more on. However, you also know he won't drop it. 

"If I tell you, you have to promise you won't make a big deal out of it. It's my issue and it's something I will get over by myself,"

"Scouts honour," He crosses his heart.

"I'm fairly certain you weren't a scout," You raise an eyebrow.

"The sentiment still stands," He shrugs, "Now tell me."

So you tell him what you told Noelle. He listens intently to each minor problem, each insecure thought, and he doesn't say a word. But you can see the cogs turning in his brain as he tries to come up with solutions. As you finish speaking, you hold a finger up to his lips.

"But I..." He tries to speak around your finger but you just press harder against his lips.

"You promised," you chastise. 

He smirks and your finger slips past his lips and onto his tongue. 

He pulls on your wrist to remove the digit from his mouth but not before licking along the length.

"If you really don't want my opinion I won't give it... but I would love for you to sign your name on the lease." he suggests

"That sounds like a solution I didn't ask for," You complain.

"But it's an easy solution that makes so much sense, don't you think?"  He sounds far too excited, probably because he is right.

"Maybe... but I still need to come to terms with all these issues on my own Joonie," you enforce the boundary.

"And I will let you... if you let me distract you from those issues for a little while." He says suggestively.

"And how do you propose you do that?" You ask innocently.

He responds by replacing your finger in his mouth and using his now free hand to trace back up the inside of your thigh.

Next

Masterlist

[ilovehugslikealotalot]

The New Arrival (Series)

Alcina Dimitrescu x fem!reader

(Not my gif)

It seems as though y/n has an…admirer?

┌───── •✧✧• ─────┐ Admirer from Afar └───── •✧✧• ─────┘

WARNING: 18+ MINORS DO NOT ENGAGE fluff, angst, smut

Part 2

✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿•.¸¸.•*•.•ஜீ☼۞☼ஜீ•.•*•.¸¸.•✿ஜீ۞ஜீ✿

She still wasn’t talking and Melina truly didn’t know how to communicate with y/n. She’d only ever heard the girl say two words, ‘thank you’. It was astonishing to Melina that y/n could get even the hardest of tasks done in mere minutes with complete perfection. The girl was always on alert and never once has she objected, she was…very obedient.

Fiona, the assistant Grand ChamberMaiden, had helped y/n communicate, somehow. She had gotten y/n to say a few more words. Though, it was quite difficult for the girl. Fiona didn’t understand why y/n was the way she was until she heard from locals about her childhood and past. Tragic, it truly was.

So, Fiona and Melina, knowing the nature of y/n’s past, acknowledging the fact that she will need assistance if the Lady of the castle were to decide to take y/n as her new… plaything.

After a week or so, y/n was getting better but still stayed silent most of the time.

Alcina, one night, came into her bedroom to see it spotless and flawlessly clean. She was taken aback, no maiden had made her room this clean before, even the month old blood stain on her white carpet was gone. She hummed in approval to herself wondering who the maiden might’ve been, it couldn’t have been an old maiden, it must’ve been the new one.

what was her name? Ah, yes, y/n..

This new maiden seemed exceptional. Though, Alcina would never admit it, she was impressed. The Lady had made the mistake of toying around with every new maiden but it was a mistake she was quite fond of. Alcina’s personal favorites were the ones who could handle scrutiny and judgment. Of course, none of them could, most just cried and stayed silent. Which was…tolerable. But soon enough, she grew tired of their company and set the women on their merry way. But, if they dared to object to Alcina’s wishes they’d be gladly turned into a barrel of wine.

The Matriarch summoned for her head maidens, phoning their rooms, she ordered them to come to her chambers immediately. “Yes, My Lady? What is it that you need?” Melina asked, bowing her head, Fiona shortly following behind her, doing the same.

“Who was assigned to clean my quarters? Last night, to be exact, while I was at that family meeting.” Alcina quite bluntly asked, applying her crimson custom lipstick as she spoke. Melina and Fiona looked at each other in slight fear, could it be that y/n had done something wrong? Or had Alcina found a new toy?

“Well…? I’m not the type of woman who repeats herself.” Alcina coaxed, placing the cap on her lipstick. She fixed her straightened hair, adjusting her well tailored suit. “It was the new maiden, y/n, Mistress” Fiona responded, eyes boring into the ground. Not daring to look at Alcina. The Countess hummed, “bring her to my quarters later” Alcina instructed, Melina’s eyes widened. Alcina couldn’t hurt her. Not like she did every other maiden in the castle. Y/n was too naive and obedient, Alcina would ruin y/n. It’d be even worse if y/n fell in love and got attached to Alcina. The poor girl wouldn’t understand.

“My Lady, I must protest. Y/n isn’t ready. She has vocal problems. You might only find her as a nuisance rather than a new plaything. She’s an incredible maiden, but maybe not for as your plaything..” Melina insisted, trying to keep Alcina from ruining y/n like she did most of the maidens in the castle. Alcina stopped her movements and placed her hands down on the edge of her vanity. “Are you…talking back to me, Miss Thornton?” Alcina seethed, the Countess scoffed and stood up lighting her cigarette. “Be happy, I feel generous today, Melina. And as for your little new maiden. You’ve taken her under your wing I see?”

—————————

Alcina had taken Melina and Fiona’s words into consideration, maybe this new maiden would be a nuisance. But, as Alcina watched from afar she couldn’t help but gawk at the beauty that was her maiden.

Y/n went on, skillfully dusting the table lifting the objects in her way. Alcina watched from above, entranced by her movement. The Countess made a point to watch the girl, but the more she spent admiring fom afar the more Alcina wanted the woman all to herself. “Y/n, darling. Be a doll and fetch me a cigarette” The Matriarch cooed, elegantly sauntering down the stairs and sitting on her favorite lounge chair. The maiden nodded, walking away hurriedly to grab Alcina’s cigarettes and her cigarette holder.

Alcina couldn’t help but study the young girl as she moved, a slight sway in her hips. The way she gently bent down to grab something set a spark in Alcina.

Incredible indeed…

Alcina had thought, a soft hand under her chin as she smirked, the countess shamelessly looked her from head to toe. She certainly was a delicious sight to look at. The young girl looked at Alcina with wonder and curiosity. Was the Matriarch always this flirtacious?

“Oh, don’t mind me, sweet girl. I’ll just be your Admirer from Afar if that’s alright with you?” She smirked, winking at y/n with a mischevious glint in her eye.

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Special Thanks to: @marilynthornhilllover y’all when I tell you this woman is a LIFE SAVER. Also go check her out! Her fics are BLOODY AMAZING! 💋

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